#i would love to be able to have pants that last more than 2 years again 🫠

[bunnyboy-juice]

ughghgh

[latenightdaydreams]

I have an idea that Konig was kicked out of his old apartment because his last deployment was last for years and he decided to find another place to rent a share apartment. When he opened his new apartment's door to move in, reader accidently greeted him with the biggest squirt in his life that he's ever seen =)))) (like reader didn't know he'd move in that day)

I love it, a great way to start off a new lease😈

Roommates (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part 2 Part 3

>cw: fem/afab, masturbation

1.5k word count

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Coming back after four years of being deployed, he was greeted with a huge pile of mail. Plopping his body in his desk chair, he began to look for a new place to live. That when he finds you listing. Pets are okay, no smoking, and only one other roommate. The apartment was in a nice area too. Without going to look at the place, König messaged the tenant to apply for the available room.

When you posted the ad, you didn’t add that you’re a woman. You didn’t want people applying just to be creeps or to get harassed. When König’s application comes in, you think it sounds too good to be true. Older man, no pets, doesn’t smoke, is military so he would be deployed for months at a time, maybe years, and willing to divide the rent 40/60, him covering the larger half, since he said he is paid well. It was an incentive König was hoping would help inspire you and make you pick him since the spot was perfect for what he needs.

Flipping back and forth between König’s application and this woman your age, you feel torn. The woman would make a fun roommate, but she is a struggling artist and you don’t want to be put in a situation where you’re paying full rent WITH a roommate.

König on the other hand, while he is a man, will be gone most of the time and is willing to pay more meaning you’d be able to set aside money and finally save some.  It’s a selfish reason, but times are hard right now.

You send back a response message to König to tell him that he’s got the room. You send him the move-in date and where to pick up the key. Instantly you get a message back saying he will be about a week late to move in but will send you the money now. You phone chimes and you see your Venmo with his portion of the rent. Feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, you go back to cleaning up the apartment.

Two weeks pass and König gets back from his mission a week earlier than expected. He walks past the boxes of his belongings stacked along the wall of his office. His shoulders slumped over, exhausted from all of his recent travels. He sits at his desk, pulling off his sniper hood and opens up the email with all of the information about his new living situation. Leaning back, he lets out a deep sigh and looks at the time. Figuring it was too late he decided to wait until tomorrow to move in.

The next morning you wake up a little after 9am and make yourself breakfast. You check your emails to see if there has been any word from König. Nothing. After you eat breakfast you sit on the living room couch, wasting time. Since today is your day off you planned on getting some chores done, but you have other things on your mind.

Quickly, you stand from the couch and go to your room. Opening up your underwear drawer you grab a black bag of goodies. You open it up and pull out your favorite silicon toy before going to the kitchen sink to wash. The hot guy from your commute to work everyday comes to mind as you begin to daydream about him naked, kissing you, touching you, fucking you...

Drying off your dildo and walking back to the living room couch, you pull the throw blanket from the back of your couch and lay it down as a makeshift towel. You pull down your pants and underwear before laying back on the couch. Your fingers go to gently rub your clit while you close your eyes and begin to day dream.

Him kissing your neck lightly as his fingers circle your clit, leg twitching as you moan to him. His fingers slowly inching lower and pushing into your tight little cunt. His fingers pumping in and out quickly as he moves his lips to yours; his mouth devouring your moans. His other hand moves to your breast and begins to lightly tug at your nipple.

You open your eyes for a second and remove your fingers from your cunt and rub your arousal on the blanket underneath you. Moving your hand from your breast, you reach over and grab your dildo from the coffee table. You move yourself so you can get more comfortable, rubbing your dildo over your wet folds. Letting out a sigh, you lean back and close your eyes again.

His naked body looms over you as he rubs his erection over your wet little pussy. His hand reaches back out and begins to rub your nipple.

“You ready y/n?”

You let out a soft yes before he shoves his cock inside of you slowly, inch by inch. He begins to thrust into you quickly, the sound of your loud moans filling the room. His hand moving off of your breast so he can fuck you quicker. You reach out gripping the bedsheets and pulling them as your legs begin to tremble from his cock hitting your g-spot over and over…

König decided to only grab his duffle bag full of clothes and a few boxes for his first trip. He will be off the next few days so he has time to go back and grab his stuff, take his time moving in. He walks out to his SUV and loads up the trunk with five boxes. Sitting down, he puts the address into his GPS and begins to take off.

The building was nice, there was a park nearby and it was 40 minutes from base. That gave him a sense of privacy. He parks his SUV at the front, pulls his sniper hood off, and walks inside to go to the building manager. He welcomes König and hands him the key to the apartment that you left for him two weeks ago.

“Danke.” König takes the key and begins to walk back to his SUV to grab two boxes.

Apartment 304. König walks up the stairs and gets to his floor. He looks around the hall, doors with cute welcoming mats and small seasonal decorations giving the complex a nice homely vibe.

Your eyes still closed and hand behind your head holding on to the couch cushion as your legs are spread wide open. Your 7-inch dildo moving quickly in and out of you as you moan out, but quietly enough that the neighbors can’t hear. One of your feet moves to the coffee table to spread your legs open even more, back arching as you get close to release.

König gets to the front door, holding his boxes in one arm as he opens the front door. He hears your moans and the sound of the dildo in your pussy before you begin to squirt. His eyes glued to your pussy as he watches the impressive stream leaving you. His jaw drops and he accidently drops one of the boxes. He looks down at the box and then back up at you to see you open your eyes and look at him.

You freeze as you realize your door is open and a giant man is just standing there. You assume it’s König, but he wasn’t supposed to be here for another week. You feel as if your heart is going to explode. Your face is hot with embarrassment. Before anyone can say anything, you pull your dildo out, get up and run to the bedroom.

König stands there looking at the wet spot on the blanket and the wet mess on the floor. Your pants and underwear tossed onto the other end of the couch. He takes a deep breath and picks up the box on the ground before walking further into the apartment. He closes the door behind him and just stands there awkwardly with a boner.

You’re in your room dying of embarrassment. You don’t know what to do, you can’t face him now. Not after that. You put on underwear and pants to open your door and yell out.

“Your bedroom is the last room down the hall to the left!” Thankfully on the other side of the apartment from yours.

“Okay, thank you!” He yells back.

He walks towards his room, his eyes lingering on the mess you left behind for a moment. Finally, he makes it to his bedroom door. He opens it to see a queen size bed and two dressers. The window is letting in the bright sun. He drops his boxes on the floor and sits on the bed, looking around the room for a while.

He can’t stop replaying the scene of you squirting over and over in his mind. His hand wandered to his boner instinctively. You’re his new roommate, he doesn’t want to start the relationship off by jerking off to you. Yet, he can’t seem to stop himself as he unzips his pants and pulls them down enough to release his cock. He closes his eyes and replays your sounds and the moment over and over as he strokes his cock.

Part 2 Part 3

[too-many-fandomssss]

The counter

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Content: SEX (p in v)

Ok y'all! 1/3 of the requests done! I'm still working on the other 2 bc I literally wrote this in like one night 💀

Also made this one a full fic bc I haven't done much for my man Stanley yet. Hope this is what anon wanted, I feel like I kept to the plot a little better this time

__________________________________________

Its been almost a year since you decided to work at the Mystery Shack to make some extra spending money. You'd retired early and moved to Gravity Falls for a quiet life, which wasn't constant because of the magic creatures.

Your hair had some gray streaks around your face and by your ears. You always dressed nice for your job, maybe a little outdated but you knew Stan loved to see you in more 70s atire. Makeup was usually on the lighter side, and LOTS of jewelry adorned your neck, wrists, and fingers.

One evening the gnomes broke into the shack trying to steal Mabel away again, and unsurprisingly they caused all sorts of damage. You offered to stay late and help clean up, which Stan gladly agreed to also hoping he'd be able to have some alone time with you.

It was late, cleaning up took much longer than anticipated so Stan sent the kids to bed, and you told Soos you'd finish up since he looked tired. Secretly you were hoping something would happen tonight as well, especially since his flirting had gotten more persistent the last few weeks. You suspected it had something to do with Mabel pushing him to get closer to you, but you're not complaining.

♧

Since you started working at the Mystery Shack, you always caught Stan staring at you or just loitering around you when you restocked. When you were behind the counter he'd stand behind you, almost guarding you and not so secretly staring at your ass. Rather quickly his silent looks turned into loud comments and flirty remarks, like whenever he ended a tour he'd lead customers into the gift shop.

"And welcome to the gift shop! Buy something and you'll get to talk to the most beautiful woman in the world!"

Stan gestures to you while leaning on the side if the counter wiggling his eyebrows at you. Rolling your eyes while helping the first customer helping them check out, your cheeks slowly burning a light pink.

♧

You were just about done with cleaning the gift shop part of the house when Stan walks into the room leaning on the door frame smirking. At first you don't notice him as your humming to the song playing on the radio and shaking your ass slightly while putting away the last few things under the counter.

"Lookin' toots"

Stans voice makes you jump bumping your head on the bottom of the counter. When you stand up a hand rubbing your head you look over at Stan (un)intentionally looking lower noticing a growing bulge in his suit pants.

"Someone's happy to see me"

Eyebrows raised and a smirk on your face you lean against the counter more obviously checking him out as he walks towards you.

"I'm always happy to see you toots"

He returns your teasing, which causes pink to creep from your ears to your cheeks. You're nat able to speak because you know you'll stutter so you just stare into his eyes.

"Whats wrong cat got y'a tongue?"

Stan is mentally freaking out as he slids his large hand around your waist pulling you closer lips almost touching.

"Can I kiss y'a? Been craving it for so long

..."

You can feel his whispers against your face, without answering you wrap your hands around his neck and connecting your lips. Stan makes a sound that's a mix between surprise and a whine when your lips connect, his other hand leaves the counter and grabs the back of your head deepening the kiss.

Stan licks your bottom lip asking for entrance, you part your lips in agreement and he slids his tongue against yours the kiss getting more heated by the second. You guys are all over each other in a matter of seconds, your back being pressed against the counter and your hands desperately grasping at his hair and clothes.

There was a pause when your both needed air, you both looked like you were gonna jump on each other again when Stan spoke.

"I need to be inside you"

You were almost sitting on the counter, hands behind you now as you're looking down at the much larger bulge in his pants.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

The second the words left your mouth it's like he snapped, you were sudden on your stomach on the counter ass up. Stans rock hard bulge pressing against your ass, his hands snake across your hips to the hem of your pants slowly undoing them. Once they're fully unzipped he pulls them off your legs and leaving small kisses on your lower back and tugging at your lace underwear.

"Wearin' the fancy stuff for me now?"

Stans voice is low and teasing as he pulls the underwear over the plump of your ass and let's them fall around your ankles. He slides his right hand down to your dripping folds gently rubbing your clit, his left hand is on your ass massaging and kneeding the flesh.

"So wet and I've barely touched you y'a dirty girl"

Stans voice is low and gravelly against your back while he leaves kisses up your spine till the edge of your shirt that's been pushed up. His fingers work your clit harder now, rubbing tight circles that have you gasping and clawing the counter.

"Please Stan! Don't stop"

You're whining only serves to turn him on more as he slowly dips one finger into you, and is practically sucked in by your greedy cunt. Stan groans at the feeling before adding another finger and pumping slightly to see your reaction.

"Aah fuck, harder!"

You arch backwards moaning rather loudly at the sensation, which caused Stan to use his free hand to clamp over your mouth.

"Shhh, don't want the kids hearin' us"

He whispers in your ear and you nod half moaning against his hand, your breath is heavy and vision glossy when he releases you. He continues to pump his fingers in your tight cunt scissoring them slightly to stretch you out while he leaves hickeys on your neck.

You're trying so hard to keep quiet but Stan's fingerings you so good you can't help the yelps and whines that slip from your throat.

"I said keep quiet"

Stan whispers against your neck before a loud slap is heard and you feel a sharp stinging pain on your left ass cheek. A loud yelp emits from your throat and your head drops between your arms, ass wiggling slightly to try and ease the pain.

"Think you're ready to take me toots?"

You frantically nod looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes are glossed over and needy the look making his cock twitch in anticipation. He removes his fingers that are soaked with your juices and licks them clean moaning at the taste.

He started undoing his pants and let them drop to his ankles, the same with his boxers. His cock is blushed red and rock hard, dripping with precum as he pumps it a few times groaning before rubbing the tip through your folds lubing up a bit.

"Shit toots can't wait to fuck you stupid"

His words make a shiver run through your body, your pussy clenching around nothing. Stan slowly pushes in breathing heavy and holding back moaning too loud, on the other hand you were whimpering and gasping. After giving you a second to adjust he snapped, and bottomed out starting a brutal pace.

You clap a hand over your mouth when he bottoms out to muffle your scream as your body is rocked by his thrusts. Hands gripping the counter as you loudly moan his name, which makes Stan grab a fistful of hair and yank you back into an arch.

"Told y'a to be fuckin' quiet"

His voice is stern and low as he's still pounding you so deep there's a bulge forming in your belly. He wraps a hand around your throat squeezing slightly to restrict your noise, your eyes roll back at the feeling pussy tightening around his cock.

You can feel it, you can feel everything he's doing to you, the way his fingers dig into your throat to every vein on his cock. You're so close to cumming but can't say anything, you're so fucked out all you can do is moan.

"So close babe, just hol' on"

Stan groans against the crook of your neck sucking a large hickey onto it, his thrusts getting sloppy. He slides his free hand down to your clit rubbing tight circles again, which causes you to whine loudly even through his throat hold. You cum all over his cock, pussy clamping down on him which causes him to spray his hot seed inside and collapse over your back.

You both are panting hard laying on the counter, Stan pulls out of you after a second admiring his work. Mixed cum dripping out and down your thighs, he slides his hands down your back grabbing both ass cheeks and squeezing.

"You're so hot like this toots"

A smirk etching onto his face as he grabs a few tissues and wipes you up, you mumble while your face is laying on the counter. He then lazily pulls your pants back up and carried you up to his room changing you into one of his old t-shirts and shorts. He lays you in his bed and climbs in with you pulling you close and drifting to sleep.

"Love y'a toots

[xokohaneazusawa]

✮ - Thinking about having matching tattoos with Kaiser

Michael Kaiser's famous blue rose tattoo. The one that most people knew him because, I mean it was his trademark after all. Though after you started dating him of course you learned how much the tattoo actually meant to him, well in more specifics, how much the blue rose had actually meant to him. So since you knew your 3rd anniversary was coming up you decided to do something you had possibly thought about in the past but never actually acted on, getting a matching tattoo. Obviously not the same one he had, but something that also had the blue rose, and possibly the vines. You had already been getting a bunch of things online recently about tattoos, and finding a style that you liked wasn't all that difficult, Thanks Pinterest! Once finally finding a design you found a time that you could go get it before the date of your anniversary and one of the days that he had practice, so he wouldn't actually find out. Of course you had gotten him something else, but you thought it would be a nice sentiment to have a matching tattoo, especially from how many times in the past 2 years he's been asking you to get a matching one with him, and what better way than to get one that matched his most prized one? You ended up getting it while he was at practice 3 days before your anniversary, you had gotten it in a harder to see spot, around your ankle. So you could at least hide it with pants, or socks, and you were almost successful in hiding it for those 3 days. As the morning after, when he was still sleeping you were able to take of the wrap and clean it, and were successful for the first 2 days, but on the day before your anniversary it was really hot and you definitely didn't wanna wear pants to bed, I mean it was already hot and then a blanket on top, plus pants?! No way. Though in the process of trying to find something else, Kaiser came in. To which from the door of the closet you could see your whole body, and he frozen when he looked down and saw the blue roses wrapping around your ankle. "Wait a minute.. you definitely didn't have that the last time I saw your ankle, mein liebling.." To which you were surprised at his figure standing in the door, hadn't he already been in bed?! "Oh yeah.. Surprise?" He slowly walked over, sitting you down on the floor before sitting next to you grabbing your leg to look closer at it "You.. got it for me?" "Well yeah.. It was supposed to be a anniversary surprise but it was really hot so I didn't have the chance to hide it yet" You explained as he twisted your ankle around, trying not to hurt you, viewing all the sides of it. After a couple more seconds of looking at it, he put your leg down, moving over to pull you into a hug. "I love it. and I love that you remembered.. not only the fact I wanted matching tattoos, but what it meant. Now my two favorite things have a blue rose connection.." It was a few more minutes of sitting on the floor of your closet, hugging it out before the clock finally struck midnight, and the first minute of your 3rd anniversary with Kaiser. "Happy 3rd anniversary, Micha.."

[fadingdaggerr]

omfggg I just finished reading truth be told and it was so amazing and good and wonderful and wow wow wow you're so talented!!! can you please please consider writing a part 2 where r and Mel slowly start dating and Mel starts bringing them back around her family and introducing them to the Abbott crew and everyone is like 👀👀 and then Mel asks them to marry her and everyone is Mel's family is like FINALLY.

truth be lived

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: part two of truth be told, based on request above | 9.6k

includes: useless lesbian disease, fluff, more fluff bc the last part didn't have enough

warnings: they/them pronouns used for r, slight insecurity, kissing/making out

translation: peluche (italian - teddy bear)

italics are flashbacks

note: god this took me so long i’m sorry. my brain is an evil being. but N E ways how shocked are we that this is way fucking longer than part one? we aren’t? that’s what i thought. swear my dumbass can't make it easy on myself, but i just really wanted to grow the relationship and not just throw it out there yk?? excuses excuses, i know

It’s almost worse than when Barbara made her go a month without caffeine. Scratch that. It’s fifty times worse. It’s been a week that Melissa has gone without getting to see you. The week that will finally come to a close once the clock strikes seven and you show up at her door.

Saturdays, as of late, the two of you spent nearly three hours in a coffee shop, talking endlessly until your macchiatos went cold. Catching up on over a decade apart was slowly patching the dam that gave out all those years ago. A month of this gravitated to getting lunch together during the week, sitting together on a bench in the halfway point between your jobs. A couple more weeks, and you started going to the bar on Fridays to get your whiskey sours to celebrate the end of a hard week.

It was over stealing a cherry from your drink that Melissa got brave enough to ask you what had been on her mind since she saw you again. She knew it had to be her move, after all that had happened before.

“Next Friday night, you busy?” Melissa asks as she picks the stem off.

Your tongue ghosts over your lips, “not at all. And for you, I’m always free.”

“Would you wanna go out? With me?” An exhale rattles her chest, “Like a- like a date?”

Scanning her face, all you can see is sincerity in her question, and not a touch of restraint. The corners of your lips fly up, creases around your eyes deepening as you take in the sight of a nervous, but hopeful, Melissa. What you wouldn’t give to cradle those flushed, pink cheeks and kiss her right now.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” you answer, “name the time and place, and I’m there.”

A grin that’s equally dorky as yours appears on Melissa's face, her smile prevalent in her voice, “you worry about nothing. I’ll pick you up.”

Green eyes flick from the Tucci mug in front of her to the clock over the door. Only eleven hours and forty minutes, not that she’s counting. A sigh passes her lips at her own desperation. She went nearly a decade without you, half a week shouldn’t be this hard. By God, though, it is.

By lunch, it feels like another week passed her by. A sense of freedom fills Melissa, finally able to dig her phone out of the bottom drawer of her desk where she previously jailed it, too tempted to check for texts from you or send her own. For added proof of her restraint, she doesn’t allow herself to look at the screen until she sits at the table next to Barb.

The moment leather pants meet the hard plastic chair, her phone is ripped from her pocket, glasses perched on her nose. Glossy lips stretch into a smile immediately.

Peluche: any idea how to make 6.5 hours into 0?

Peluche: asking for a friend

Tell your ‘friend’ if I knew, I would have done it.

The little smirk on her face does not go unnoticed by the others in the room, though none are brave enough to ask about it. Jacob eyes his roommate from across the room. He’s seen the weight on her shoulders fly off within the last few weeks, the oven door hasn’t slammed once, she didn’t even make fun of his new kombucha. Early excuses to retire to her bedroom were becoming more frequent, and after a very brave snooping session, Jacob heard tiny bits of a phone call. Breathy giggles coming from his roommate made him step away, an act to save not only his room, but also his life.

The little grin that would appear on her face, before she scurried upstairs, was the same one that she wears at this very moment. It takes the willpower of a thousand Ava’s in a hookah bar to not jump up and down at the thought that Melissa may be seeing someone again, someone clearly better for her. With all of his self-control, held together with sheer desperation, he glances at Barbara. God’s number one soldier is smiling to herself, giving a little nod as she feels his gaze on her. Confirmation.

There’s a certain pep in her step the rest of the day. Not one eye roll as Janine breathlessly recounted her walk back from the deli, no pinching the bridge of her nose when a student asked a question she’d answered seven times already today, not even one occurrence of biting her tongue to save herself an elbow from Barbara. Blissfully happy Melissa is almost more terrifying than angry Melissa, her stiff walk replaced with a certain bounce that didn’t diminish.

“Alright, little eagles, it is go-time! Move it, move it! If you’re not out the door in ten seconds, you’re spending the night with the Abbott ghosts!” The kids all run past Melissa in a flock of giggles as she mentally counts each one, making sure everyone is accounted for before locking up her room. Giddiness grows in her chest, T-minus four hours, and she finds herself just as motivated as the children to run out the doors. Uncharacteristically, she tries to avoid Barbara on her way out, trying to get home as fast as humanly possible, knowing she would be in a frenzied overdrive once she starts getting ready to see you.

“Melissa!” She cringes as she hears her name at the end of the hall, stalling her in her place. Turning on her heel, the redhead faces the floor to hide the pained expression she wears, before looking back up. “Girl, where are you going in such a hurry? You’re moving like the devil is on your heels.”

“The devil couldn’t catch me if he tried,” Melissa snorts, “and I’m just tryna get home, I got plans tonight.”

Barbara raises a brow, “plans, you say? With whom?”

“No one,” she replies, but the sly grin and pink cheeks give her away.

The kindergarten teacher hums, “well, you have fun with no one. I expect a debrief Monday morning, maybe Saturday if you find some free time.” Pink cheeks go as red as Melissa’s hair at the insinuation, only managing a little huff and nod as a response before slinking off to her car.

—☽—

Melissa had given you only one direction for tonight, being that you should dress warm. As much as she knew the limited information would bother you, she hoped you trusted her enough to go along with it, and you did without question, but not without a half-second of hesitation. She could already picture the game of eenie-meenie you would likely play when you went to pick out a sweater or sweatshirt.

And she would be right. With an hour left before Melissa was to arrive, you stood half-naked in front of the closet on your fifth round of the game in trying to choose what to wear. Though every time you reject an option, you’d manage to find a potential reason to go with it, and the cycle keeps going. Deciding to let fate take its chance, you throw an arm over your eyes and blindly swing the other to randomly grab something to wear, at this point you don’t even care if it’s the matching Bluey sweatshirt you share with your nephew.

Fate is on your side it seems, the blind reach procuring a loose fitting, dark grey sweater, one you’d owned over half your life. One that Melissa had stolen many times before, that you had to steal back from her. Without a second thought, you put a longsleeve on before the sweater, just in case it finds a way to pass ownership.

Similarly to last week, you find yourself tense and jittery, waiting on the edge of your seat for the text that tells you that you’ll be able to see her again. Bosco nudges at your hands to be pet, clearly noticing your nerves, attempting to snuggle them away. He’s an expert, your shaky hands stilling as you scratch gently around his neck, dodging his wet nose before it meets your eye. Utterly in the zone petting the spaniel, your phone pinging pulls you from your trance.

pretty girl: Ready when you are.

i’ll be right down, just a sec

pretty girl: Take your time hon.

You, in fact, do not take your time, but what Melissa doesn’t see, she can’t possibly know. Panting at the bottom of the stairs, you take a spare few seconds to catch your breath before walking towards the only car in the lot with its lights on. Leaning against it was Melissa, picking at her nails with pursed lips, a tell-tale sign of her nerves. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see her. Her bright pink hoodie is clearer now, contrasting against a pair of leather pants that almost rip the air from your lungs.

The words leave your lips before you can really stop them, “you’re beautiful.”

Bright eyes look up from the pavement, wide with surprise from your seemingly sudden appearance in front of her. Heat spreads from down her face to her chest at the compliment, feeling every bit of it from head to toe, reveling in the warmth of your attention. It’s been years since you’ve looked at her like this, much less spoken.

“You-” she breathes, “you’re wow.” A second wave hits her when she sees what you’re wearing, that fucking sweater. She’d stolen it more times than she can count, straight from the closet or even directly off of your body, and now it was within arms reach again.

“Should’ve asked first, wearing your sweater and all,” you say lightheartedly, hoping that it will calm the nerves between you both.

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” Melissa chuckles, looking down bashfully. “You ready to get going?”

All you manage is a nod, far too excited to be in her presence to get anymore words out. Ever the gentlewoman, Melissa slides in front of you to open your door, closing it once you’ve slid into your seat. You knew better than to ask where you were going, the redhead already told you three times that she wasn’t spoiling anything for you.

The entirety of the twenty minute drive, it takes a god-like amount of effort to keep from staring at Melissa’s hand on the gear shift. Shimmering rings just beg to be fiddled with, hand asking to be held, but you refrain from crossing the line. The late time keeps the road relatively empty, though Philly streets are never silent, a cacophony of horns and yelling seems to linger regardless of the sun’s presence.

The car pulls into a lot of a building, only a small deli on the first level, the rest appears to be utterly vacant. Slowly, you turn to face Melissa, looking at her with pure confusion and a need for an answer.

She peeks over, sensing your gaze on her. Putting the car in park she simply says, “just trust me.”

“I do,” you reply without hesitation.

It takes very little persuading for you to begin following Melissa, in through the deli where she greeted the man at the front desk. From the little Italian you still remember from being around her family, you pick up something about a door and the two of you being allowed to do something. All the fishing for translation in your mind halts when a hand goes to the small of your back, guiding you to the back of the shop towards the stairs. At the top floor, Melissa reaches around you to put the code into the door, opening the roof access. Three thick blankets stacked on top of one another, with a cooler holding them down, greet you when you turn after watching the redhead prop the door open with a brick.

A sort of wonder takes over, just following her movements as she sits on the blankets, patting the spot next to her. Taking residence next to her, you scoot closer without even an attempt of subtlety. Glossy lips curve into a smile at your action, Melissa immediately trying to hide it by reaching into the orange cooler.

From the cooler, she pulls out a shaker and a bottle of whiskey, peeking at you with a mischievous look in her eye. Without breaking eye contact, she lifts out simple syrup and lemon juice. Simultaneously, both your noses scrunch, leaning into each other slightly as you snicker, feeling juvenile in the excitement of it all. 

Despite taking the time to garnish both your drinks with maraschinos, you pretend to not notice the sly reaches to pull them out of your drink. As far as you’re concerned, she can have whatever she wants if you get to hear that quiet, satisfied giggle.

Reaching into the cooler again, Melissa pulls out a small radio, checking her watch as she fiddles with the dials. After a few moments, you hear what sounds like the opening credits of a movie. Knocking her knee with your own to get your attention, she points to a screen a little ways away, a small drive-in theater that you didn’t even know was in the city. Squinting a little to see the title from the distance, you see that it’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, one of her father’s favorites. The thought alone makes you smile, he’d gotten you both into westerns once you were ‘old enough to appreciate them,’ meaning when you were well into your twenties.

It takes little time for the two of you to end up pressed against each other, everything packed away and forgotten off to the side. The two of you stay quiet as you listen to the movie, both mouthing lines you remember. Your eyes long to look at her, so you look down to grab your drink, shifting your eyes to look at Melissa.

Once you do, all you can do is watch her, her hands, her eyes, her lips, how content she is written on her face. It’s hard to take your eyes off her, it always has been, but right now it feels more difficult than ever. Yellow street lights barely illuminate her, everything you can see is because of the sheer closeness of your bodies. The warmth radiating off of her is grounding, the chill around you nonexistent.

Feeling your attention on her quickly has Melissa turning towards you. She’s met with a nose brushing against hers, both of your eyes widening at the newfound closeness. Neither of you even attempt to move away, completely engrossed in each other’s gaze; the closest you two had been in a decade, here and now.

“Can I-” She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

“Please.”

Lips rush to press against yours, moving quickly, but so carefully that you can’t help the whine that crawls out of your throat. It takes even less time for your hands to slide up to her face, holding her close as her own hands wander to hold your sides. Needy fingers weave into her hair, tugging lightly at soft copper. Melissa groans into your mouth, tongue swiping against your lips, being met with instant entry and a cross between a sigh and moan.

Any remaining gloss that wasn’t sticking to the plastic cups was spread across your lips, giving you a taste of cherry and lemon, whiskey shared between you. The feeling of her tongue is intoxicating, and all you can manage is to haul her closer, wanting her entirely against you. Catching on, Melissa pushes further into you, leaning you down onto the blankets. The change in position seems to bring a moment of pause to both of you, parting for a moment to catch your breaths.

Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting jade eyes with blown out pupils. Detangling your hands from her hair, you bring them back to hold her face. Stroking your thumb over her cheek, her eyes flutter shut as a deep breath leaves her chest. You gently pass over her cheekbone, following the slope to her lips, kiss-swollen and lovely. Brushing against her lips, you see her eyes open again, watching your attention on her skin. You can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her.

Tugging her down gently, you press a soft kiss to her lips, easy and slow. A silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, that you want this just as much as she does.

The entire drive back to your building, Melissa keeps her hand in yours, enjoying the feeling of your grip tightening around hers every now and then. Uncharacteristically, she drives the speed limit through the streets, wanting to prolong her time with you as much as she can. Pulling into the lot, she lifts your hand to press a kiss to it before hopping out, rounding the car to open your door.

“What a charmer,” you joke, voice bubbly and light from pure adoration for the woman. Humming, Melissa’s fingers tangle with yours as she walks you to the door. Leaning against the cold brick of the building, you pull her in closer, wanting her in your orbit a little longer.

Her thumb glides over your knuckles, “thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you. Next time, though, I’m planning everything,” an easy smile crosses your face as you fiddle with her rings. You watch a barely suppressed excitement cross her features, feeling your heart swell at the sight.

Subconsciously, you both lean into each other, no words spoken between you. Your eyes flick to her licks, catching her attention. With a barely there touch, Melissa presses a kiss to your lips, lingering as you just barely keen into her. As she pulls away, she forces herself to take a step back, knowing if she stays close that she’ll never leave.

“Can’t wait,” she says, a smile on her lips that never fades when she’s around you.

“Text me when you get home?” You have to keep a hand on the wall behind to keep you in place, too drawn to Melissa for your own good.

She chuckles, taking a step back, “it’s a five minute drive.”

“Just text me, please,” your head drops to the side, looking at her through your lashes.

The only you get is a little nod, reveling in her little smirk as she turns away. Your eyes stay on her, intent on seeing her safely to her car, but she seems to have other ideas. Before she even reaches the fence, Melissa turns on her heel and quickly walks back up to you. Without so much as a warning, she holds your face in her hands and plants one more solid kiss to your lips.

When she pulls away she sees your brows raised and a dumbfounded look on your face, it leaves her with a little spark of pride in her chest. Her thumb passes over your lip before she steps back, slowly walking backwards, “I’ll text you.”

—☽—

The trudging of Jacob coming upstairs shakes Melissa from her last minute indecisiveness about her choice of shirt, registering her open door, throwing the green shirt over her bra-clad form. Quick feet land her in front of her vanity, plopping in the seat to seem busy instead of fretful. Silent prayers that he leaves her alone go unanswered, peeking in as she unscrews the wand of her mascara.

“What’re you up to tonight?” Jacob asks, practically hopping up to her.

She purposely avoids looking at him, “noneya.”

“Oooh, come on Mel-Mel! Spill!”

“Stop calling me that,” she lets out shortly, carefully blinking on mascara. “I’m just going out, that’s all.” Melissa promised herself the second you came back into her life, she wouldn’t refer to you as just a friend. Not until you told her that’s all you want from her, she couldn’t blame you for that choice after all of her own.

You are beginning to run out of things to fill the time until Melissa arrives. The kitchen was wiped down and swept, the living room vacuumed, shit, you even wiped down the blinds. A nagging part of your mind keeps ringing that maybe you should change the blanket over the back of the couch, but the others don’t match the pillows and that will only make your skin crawl more.

A slammed door in the hall makes you startle out of the near catatonic state you’re in, eyes glazed over as they stare unfocused at the coffee table. Your eyes jump to the clock, the little hand getting closer and closer to the seven, only twenty minutes until she’s here. You let out a deep breath before it hits you, only twenty minutes.

Nearly crashing to the floor as your socks glide on the carpet, you rip the top drawer of your dresser open, brain rushing to figure out if the fluffy socks are a bad look or not. Eyes clenching, you sigh at the immaturity of your own thoughts, feeling like a middle schooler trying to get their crush to like them. It’s all frivolous, really. But, God, you want her to like you.

With five minutes left to wait, you find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the dark TV screen as your leg bounces hard enough to cause a six-point magnitude earthquake.

Unbeknownst to you, Melissa has been sitting in the lot of your building for ten minutes, working up the courage to walk in. If she didn’t get here early, she is sure she would’ve been late walking inside. Melissa stretches out her hand from the tight clenched fists they had been, crescents in her palm from her pink acrylics. She has to reread her text about a million times before sending it.

Just pulled in.

Peluche: i’ll be right down, give me 30 seconds

Creaking of a heavy metal door takes Melissa out of her thoughts where she stands on the steps, turning to see your head just barely popping out of the door. Neither of you can help the little grins that come to your face, both of your attempts to hide them being useless against the other. Wordlessly, you wave her in, and Melissa is quick to obey. It’s quiet as you both climb the stairs, until you arrive at your front door.

The moment you press one number on the keypad, Bosco is barking up a storm on the other side of the door. When the door opens, he is just as quick to start jumping on Melissa, clearly remembering his friend that he hasn’t seen in almost three months.

“Bobo, dude,” you almost whine, trying to tug him away despite his excited hopping, “alright, enough. Bed, now, little freak.”

When you turn back to Melissa, her face is pink from laughter, the lines around her eyes deeper from the smile on her face. Slipping her jacket off her arms, she asks, “is he like that with everyone?”

“No, not everyone,” you answer, stepping forward to grab her jacket from her to hang up, “he’s usually only that excited when I get home or when my neighbor stops by, but he never jumps on him since the man’s like eight thousand years old.”

Melissa tries to ignore the shivers up her spine, “probably just remembers me, or I’m just that special.”

“Two things can be true at once,” you say sincerely, taking the bottle of wine with you as you search for the corkscrew. “I’ve only got stemless glasses, that okay?”

“Blasphemous,” she jokes, leaning against the counter, resting her weight on her elbows.

Lightheartedly, you roll your eyes, pouring her glass first. Melissa’s eyes light up as you swirl the wine in the glass before handing it to her, something she does before she starts any glass. It’s a pointless little thing she has done since Nonna began allowing her a small cup of wine at dinner when she was fifteen, she never thought you would remember something so miniscule.

It takes less than two minutes of sitting on the couch for Melissa to realize that she had made the biggest mistake telling you that she didn’t care what you watched tonight, that you had full reign of choosing. The Conjuring pops up on the screen, the ominous tree makes her groan. Dropping her chin to her shoulder, she stares at you. The pursing of your lips and strict avoidance of her eyes makes the stare turn to a glare.

“You’re fucking kidding,” she says with a facetious anger, “you’re fucking with me.”

Turning slowly, you put on a failing face of innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Melissa laughs through her words, “you’re trying to get me to walk outta here.”

“No! You said I could pick whatever I want,” you gesture towards the TV.

Melissa heads tilts down, but her eyes stay on you, lips turning up, “you tryna get me all scared like a cliche little movie date? Real sly.”

“So what if I am?” Your expression is playful, but there’s something in your voice that makes Melissa feel warm.

A deep breath leaves her lungs, “if this jump scares me, I’m hitting you with a pillow.”

“Thankfully, I have several,” you mumble, a sated smile on your lips as you press play. 

Two glasses of wine later, you find yourself relaxed into the arm of the couch, while Melissa sits curled into a ball, fully leaned into the back of the couch. For someone so confident and brave, it has always humored you that she was so easily scared of horror films. She nearly suffocated you when she came over one night all those years ago, Candyman left you with the redhead clinging to you like a baby koala.

A pitchy squeak pulls you from the reminiscing you can’t seem to escape, eyes scanning the screen, seeing the exorcism scene, before looking towards Melissa. With her hands over your eyes, you can see her mouth moving, quiet mutters of God dammit and mother fucker leaving glossy lips. It’s impossible to suppress the little chuckle that bubbles in your throat, and squinted green eyes stare you down.

“Shut up,” Melissa mumbles, looking at you rather than back at the movie.

“I didn’t say anything,” you can’t even say it with a straight face, “you’re the one that said I could pick the movie.”

Melissa throws the pillow in her lap at you with a weak arm, “you know I don’t like this scary shit. I’ll never get to sleep tonight.”

“I’ll put Fox and the Hound on after,” you offer. Olive eyes give you an unimpressed look, but the corners of her lips turn up before she gives a little nod in silent thanks.

Her eyes don’t leave you as your attention falls back on the screen, watching as you become fully engrossed in the happenings she refuses to acknowledge. Melissa’s mind churns over your earlier statement, how you might’ve just chosen this for her to get closer to you, and she wishes she could say your not-so-subtle plan wasn’t working. Yet, here she is, thinking that if you were holding her, this would feel like a Pixar film.

Slowly, as if you were the spooked one, she slowly shifts closer. After scanning for discomfort that she doesn’t find, Melissa leans closer, praying you’ll catch on.

“Get over here,” you mumble through a huffed laugh, shifting to rest your back against the arm, putting a leg down on the floor to open up space. Not wasting a second, Melissa lays down on top of you, tucking into you enough that only one eye is able to see the TV, but only if she strains to look up.

It takes zero time for your fingers to find the ends of her hair, the feeling only making Melissa settle in further. Your free hand gets a hold of the remote, turning off the movie before it’s even ended. While you’re looking for the cartoon, Melissa fishes her phone from her back pocket, not bothering to move as she checks her messages.

Jacob: sooo am i leaving the porchlight on or are u coming back in the morning

Put the light on, please.

Jacob: am i allowed to ask questions????

The redhead feels your laugh more than she hears it, peeking up she sees your smirking face. You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re right, he’s nosy.”

“Told you. If we were at my place right now, we’d be getting interviewed until next week,” Melissa grumbles. Your only answer is a hum, attention moving to the annoying task of typing out the name of the movie.

You just did.

Your chest rumbles with silent laughter at her response, only holding her tighter when her phone drops on the table and her nose bumps against your neck. The meandering fingers that twirl loose curls around them are a constant distraction for Melissa, the voices of Copper and Tod not even reaching her ears as she settles into a comfort she’s been longing for for years. Nothing will ever quite match the feeling of your lips pressing to her temple.

—☽—

Melissa Schemmenti is picky. Name a topic, she’s got a steadfast opinion on it. The Seahawks? Wanna-be Eagles. Mashed potatoes? Better when a little lumpy. Sleeping? Her bed is the only place she can feel rested. She’d grown all too used to sleeping in her own bed alone, it feels foreign to wake up with someone beside her.Well, her opinion may have changed on that last one.

Curled under a thin blanket, Melissa wakes slowly as the little rays of sun work their way under the curtains. Attempting to stretch her legs, she tries to turn on her back, but is met with resistance. Her movement makes the arm around her tighten, a head nudging into her shoulder blades. Her fingers run up and down the expanse of your arm, quietly asking for you to loosen up. With newfound freedom, she turns to face you, meeting half open eyes and a dopey grin. Tucking yourself into her, you press a lingering kiss to the junction of her neck, mumbling into warm skin.

“What was that, baby?” Melissa rasps out.

“Phone went off,” you grumble a little louder, shuffling closer to her.

Blindly, the redhead reaches around for her phone. Huffing, she forces her eyes open enough to catch face unlock, but they immediately bulge out of her head.

Jacob: hey u coming home tonight?

Jacob: mel mel?

Jacob: barbs said u were fine but can u just answer

Jacob: melissa?

Melissa flies up, your arm dropping limply beside her. A high pitched whine climbs out of your throat as you sit up, leaning against her side with your head on her shoulder. Glancing at her screen, your eyes go as wide as hers.

“If you need to call him, go for it,” you say quietly.

She sighs, “I don’t like lying to him. I’m just…”

“I know,” you reach to hold her hand, “just do whatever feels right for now. We’ll figure everything out later.”

Melissa only gives a nod in response, clearly still in her head. Giving her space, you press a kiss to her shoulder before climbing out of bed. Green eyes follow as you walk out of the room, nearly stumbling into the door as you go. She gives herself another moment to watch you by the coffeemaker before glancing back down at her phone.

Once you’ve taste tested the coffee you made for Melissa, you carefully walk back into your room, trying to not spill a single drop. Glancing up from the mugs, you see that Melissa’s eyes are scrunched, clearly hating the conversation that was happening, but accepting the consequences. Opening one eye and seeing you, she presses a finger to her lips as she puts the call on speaker.

“-ad me worried! You could’ve been dead in a ditch, or worse! I’m happy that you’re happy and having a good time, but you need to be safe! Wait- that sounded weird, I meant physically safe. But that kinda safe too!” Her roommate’s, well warranted, rant continues, leaving you both struggling to breathe from the laughter you try to hide.

Melissa takes a deep breath to compose herself, “Jacob, again, I’m sorry. Wasn’t looking at my phone, but I’ll be better about it.”

“Cross your heart!” The sixth grade teacher was clearly not playing games.

Despite him not being able to see her, Melissa actually draws an X on her chest, “cross my heart.”

Laughing inwardly, you leave Melissa to speak with Jacob as you pad around the room, grabbing your clothes for the day. You feel eyes on you as you move, chest warming under her affection. Peeking over your shoulder as you go down the hall to the bathroom, you send her a wink that makes her grin.

When she finally hangs up with Jacob, Melissa flops back onto the bed, mulling things over in her mind. Telling her friends about you couldn’t be so bad, could it? Starting slow could help, but that means starting at home, and Jacob’s mouth is far too big to keep anything to himself. Telling Barbara will be easy, she already knows about you, just not current events.

She knows that Barbara will love you, that you will love Barbara. Deep down she knows the two of you would be two peas in a pod, and the thought of that alone makes Melissa want to throw caution to the wind. As much as she hates to admit it, acceptance of you from Jacob is something that weighs on her. He’ll probably be obsessed with you, and you don’t even have to say how much you want to meet him, she already knows. It could be so easy.

The spiral in her mind comes to a halt when she hears the bathroom door open. Suddenly feeling full of energy, a giddiness in her bones, she jumps out of bed to find you. Finding you in front of the microwave, reheating your coffee, she wraps her arms around your waist. The light squeeze you receive makes you smile, turning in her grasp to face her, arms encircling her neck.

“Hey, you,” you say, fingers twirling her hair.

“Hey, yourself,” she doesn’t even try to hide the lovesick look on her face, “I’ve got a proposition for ya.”

You snort, “you’re propositioning me?”

“Don’t even,” a hand playfully pinches your side, “it’s a serious question.” The little grin on your face drops, and Melissa can feel your hands freeze where they play with her curls. “Not super serious… just wondering if you’d wanna meet them? Barb, Jacob, maybe the others?

“You want that?” She nods immediately. “Are you sure?” She nods again. “Then, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

—☽—

How on Earth was she ever nervous about this? Seriously, how?

Janine had invited most of Abbott to her shoebox of an apartment for an end of year party, cleverly inviting Melissa and Barbara over early to get them in a cleaning mood. Everyone else wasn’t supposed to arrive for another half hour, you included. Melissa asked you to come later, hoping that there was less of a chance you’d be grilled if you arrived when the party was more full.

Forty sardines with master’s degrees fill the apartment, and Melissa is still finding little things around the place that need to be dusted and wiped down, but her momentum entirely ends when her phone buzzes in her pocket. Nearly dropping the vase in her hands, she fishes her phone out.

Peluche: i think i’m here

Peluche: the bouncer?? won’t let me in

An amused sigh passes her lips as she swerves through the sea of bodies to get to the front door, seeing Mr. Johnson with his arm barring the door.

“Mr. J, let them in,” Melissa laughs out, patting the man’s shoulder. He turns to look at her with scrutinizing eyes, but lowers his arm to allow space for you.

An arm wraps itself around your waist, immediately pulling you into her space, filling your senses with honey and the distinct smell of foundation on her skin. Guiding you carefully, trying to keep anyone from getting too close to you, she brings you over to where Barbara is fussing over a bookshelf. With a tap on the shoulder, the kindergarten teacher turns to Melissa before brown eyes land on you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so excited to see you in your entire life, and you don’t even know this woman.

“By the good lord’s graces,” she gasps at her own outburst, thrusting out her hand for you. “I’m sorry dear, it is lovely to meet you. I’m Barbara.”

Shaking her hand, you reply, “lovely to meet you, too. I’m-”

“Oh, I know exac-”

“Barb!” Melissa cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose. Your hand rubs her arm, trying to keep her from blowing a gasket, even if you’re fighting giggles next to her. Her attention falls back on you, all annoyance fading, “you want a drink?”

You nod, feeling her already beginning to tug you away. Rushing your words, you speak to Barbara, “it was nice meeting you!”

“You too, sweetheart. I’ll see you at brunch next week, I’m sure,” Barbara chuckles warmly. Accepting that this was the closest thing she’ll get to an introduction with Melissa.

Staying behind you with hands on your hips to guide you, Melissa leads you towards the kitchen. Everything feels like it’s underwater, with her hands on you, protective and, dare you say, possessive. For someone who had been nervous for days about you meeting everyone, she sure had no care in the world now. Quietly, next to your ear, you hear her counting down from five. Just as she hits one, a squeal pierces your eardrums.

“Oh my gosh. Oh. My. Gosh!” The voice is immediately recognizable to the one that had been lecturing the redhead over the phone in your bedroom only a few weeks ago. “Hi, hi, I’m Jacob, I work with Melissa at Abbott.”

“Also lecture her, from what I heard,” you joke, making Jacob pause.

Without a chance to blink, Jacob jumps up and down, “so you’re where she’s been lately!” Both you and Melissa wince and the sheer volume of it, but recover quickly when he calms, suddenly quiet and scanning you over, “you better be careful, not for her sake, but yours.”

There’s no malice in his words, it’s a pure warning. From the look on his face, it’s entirely about what he’ll do if she gets hurt, not what Melissa would do to you. From behind you, the redhead’s brows scrunch, mostly out of confusion, ready to tell Jacob off for talking to you like that. She feels guilty, she’s the one who messed everything up before, she deserves the questioning of her worthiness.

You take Jacob’s words in stride, “I’m counting on you to set me straight then, if I ever dare to step out of line.”

Jacob’s entire demeanor goes back to normal at your words, looking at Melissa excitedly, “I like them.”

“Yeah, me too. You ain’t special,” she chuckles, hand on your hip tightening, pulling you imperceptibly closer.

Within an hour, most of the partygoers are on the dancefloor, the two of you included. Cups with rum and whatever chaser Janine had left were teetering on spilling, holding your weight against her is all that keeps you from teetering as well. Sea Barbara stays happily to herself with her cardboard cutout dance partner, content to slow dance to the fast paced music. Singing and cheering around you feels far away as your drunken attention refuses to stray from Melissa, her attention staying on you.

It’s increasingly more difficult to not kiss you when you’re this close, but with warm bodies against her at every side, it’s less than ideal. If it were, it would just be the two of you. She’s so close to just asking if you want to get out of here, but she’s interrupted just as she ducks to speak in your ear.

“Melissa! Barbara! You’re supposed to be cleaning!” Janine yells, hands on her hips. You can feel Melissa groan more than you can hear it, loud music almost deafening you in the small apartment. Barbara tries to shoo the shorter woman away, but her drunk state doesn’t hold the same level of authority that it typically does.

“Janine, it’s a party. We’re partying,” Melissa says dismissively. Not once does her hand leave your waist, keeping you from being jostled by other people.

Her speaking up has Janine’s attention back on her, who quickly recognizes your presence. Brown eyes go from your face, to the hands on you, and back to Melissa’s face. Realization and excitement washes over her face, and the chattering that comes from her is hardly heard or understood from the bass boosts and liquor. Flapping hands keep moving as you try your best to gather her words, but she’s running off excitedly before you can even introduce yourself. You watch Janine bounce towards a lanky man, pointing in your direction, clearly telling him that Melissa brought someone.

Chuckling to yourself, you look back to Melissa, whose eyes are already one you. The universe seems to be both with and against her, because just as she tries to speak, the lights go out and the music stops. Warm hands pull you closer in surprise, and you can’t even be upset about your almost empty cup dropping to the floor. Murmurs around you get louder as everyone sits in equal confusion, but Melissa feels her opportunity.

Feeling lips brush your ear, heat rises to your cheeks, “wanna get out of here?”

“God, yes,” you say, shifting your hand from her arm to her hand, interlocking your fingers. Pulling you with her, she quickly gets to Barbara to let her know you’re both leaving, sneakily passing your phone to text Gerald while she gets her friend some water.

By the end of the night, neither of you could even find the energy to change out of your clothes after walking home. Melissa’s apartment being closer was a blessing, you didn’t even register that this was the first time you’ve been there. Neither did Melissa.

Brushing her teeth next to you in the mirror, pulling back sheets on the other side of the bed, becoming your personal pillow the moment you lay on the mattress. It just felt right.

—☽—

Bobbing your head along to Deftones, you mentally map out the drawing you’re supposed to be starting. The measurements they gave you make no sense, especially with the materials they requested. It’s like they’re asking for the building to concave on itself, not to house people. You’d pressed about giving them a consultation, see the inner workings of the old medical office yourself, but they rejected it ‘for time,’ which really means money. Little do they know they’re going to end up costing themselves more.

The song switches from Shove It to Mascara as knocking raps against your door, but they go completely unnoticed to you. So does the voice trying to get your attention without having to tap your shoulder, knowing it sends ten feet in the air in surprise.

“Boss… Boss… Boss!” Terrence gets no response for the third time before looking to the woman on his left, “you’ll have to go get ‘em, I guess. Lunatic keeps the volume to ear bleeding levels so they don’t have to listen to us, I swear.”

Melissa chuckles, “well, thank you anyways, hon. I got it from here.” Moving into the room, she shuts the door behind her, leaning against it to watch you for just a moment.

What she first notices is your button up, or lack thereof, disregarded on a chair on the other side of the room. Selfishly, she lets herself look you up and down, savoring bare arms and the hard look on your face. Melissa finds herself frozen, mind racing with images of you, subconsciously biting her lip as her eyes rake over you. Only pulled out of her mind by a groan that leaves your lips, she wills herself to get closer to you.

With your back still to her, you’re unable to see her slow movements as she tries to sneak up on you. Hands trail up your sides, clutching slightly when she feels you jump at the sudden touch. Turning in her arms, your bewildered expression dies when you meet green eyes, crinkled around the edges in amusement. Catching your breath, you wrap your arms around her neck.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you say softly, “but this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Missed you. I’ve barely seen you all week,” her arms tighten around your waist.

You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy feeling in your chest that’s spreading, “I’m sorry, they’ve got me practically chained to the desk until this draft is drawn up. Fuckers think it’s easy turning procedure suites into apartments, it’s not.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart,” her lips press to your cheek as she tugs you in, missing holding you, being held by you. “I have dinner with my family tomorrow night, though, so I won’t be around. Just wanted to get my time in with you before I go into withdrawals.”

You laugh at her words, “Withdrawal? Little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Me? Never,” she tries to keep a serious face, but her smile overtakes as she watches you roll your eyes lightheartedly.

A finger twirls a copper strand around, voice weary, “tell everyone I said hi?”

“Well…” Melissa’s face drops a little, knowing she hasn’t told her family that you’re back in her life. Her eyes scan your face, seeing the smallest hint of sadness, and hurries to correct it. “You can tell them yourself, if you want.”

The twirling stops, “you mean that? Because you can’t offer that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, I promise,” her hands sit more firmly on you now, “they miss you, they just never mention it. But they do. Especially John Anthony. And Kristin Marie, but she’ll never admit that, even to herself.”

The only answer she received is a strong kiss pressing to her lip, her eyes immediately fluttering shut at the contact. The hand in her hair tightens as your entire body pushes into her, groaning at the feeling of her on you mixing with the emotions of it all. How easily she asked you to come with her, to see her family, to be by her side for real this time. It feels too early to say what you want to at this moment, so you just kiss her harder.

Melissa spent half the day and the entire drive to the house telling you that no, her parents don’t hate you, and that yes, they will be incredibly excited to see you again. She kept the knowledge of your attendance secret, not wanting to be slammed with questions, but mostly because she wanted to see the look on her mother’s face when she saw her favorite not-her-child from all those years ago.

“Are you sure you want me to go? I don’t want to if you only offered because you felt like you had to. If I’m impos-”

“You’re not imposing,” she almost whispers as she cradles your face, “I want you there. It hasn’t felt the same since you stopped coming.”

Pressing kissing to your knuckles every now and then, Melissa manages to take some of the anxiety off your shoulders. Turning onto the familiar street, you immediately sit up straighter in your seat, checking your outfit and fiddling with everything, desperate to pick off lint that isn’t even there. Melissa lets it go, knowing there’s no stopping this. Part of her feels guilty, knowing she’s the reason that you felt they could hate you, that they wouldn’t be happy to see you. All she ever told them was you had a mutual falling out, never that it was her fault, especially not that it was yours.

Pulling up in front of the house, Melissa’s fingers tighten around yours. Looking up at her, you see the silent question in her eyes, giving her a nod that tells her you’re fine. To prove yourself, you hop out of the car to jog to her side, opening the door for her with a grin. Shaking her head with a half-hidden smile on her lips, she takes your offered hand and pulls you into her, walking with you to the door.

No knocking required, Melissa steps in first, only letting go of your hand for a brief moment to shrug off your jackets before her hand is back in yours. Chattering in the kitchen leads you to where everyone stands or sits, sipping on beers and white wine. Clearing her throat, Melissa gets the attention of the room. Silence fills the previously loud air.

“Yooooo!” You hear someone yell, a voice that you recognize all too well. Without a moment’s notice, you’re immediately tackled, hand being ripped from Melissa’s. You hug the person back, still trying to figure out exactly who it is, but the exaggerated leaning side-to-side gives you everything. Little John Anthony isn’t so little anymore, not that he ever really was.

Feeling another body against you, one arm reaches behind to give some level of contact as acknowledgement. Slowly people let go of you while others come in, and all you can feel is glad that everything is so busy, no one will see the happy tears forming in your eyes. Annette’s noodle arms let go of you, moving as she feels a tap on her back. When she moves, Melissa’s mother stands before you.

“Finally,” she says, cradling your face in her soft hands, “I knew you’d be back.” Patting your cheek, she finally moves out of the way for others to get a hold of you. Melissa can barely see you most of the night, but the warmth in her chest grows every time she sees you talking with someone new, hugging someone else as you talk. Kristin Marie hides her excitement well, but not well enough, though you let her get away with hugging you tightly without saying anything about it.

By dinner time, everyone’s been reacquainted with your presence, and Melissa can finally get her hands on you again. Scooching her chair closer, she mumbles in your ear while the conversation carries around the table.

“Told you, nothing to worry about,” her hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly.

“I missed them,” you say, running your fingers up and down her arm, “I missed this.”

Family dinner ends the way it always does, with everyone talking in the living room, sipping coffee or the remainder of their drinks. You take your place next to Melissa on the couch, leaning your head on her shoulder as she talks to Toni about something you can’t remember. You haven’t felt this at peace in so long, you missed your family. Annette and Vinny fighting, music playing from the TV, chattering around you in a mix of Italian and English, it’s comforting.

Looking up from your perch on her shoulder, you keep your eyes on Melissa. Watching her hands move as she speaks, how happy she looks, how beautiful she is. Turning slightly to put her glass on the table, she catches your gaze, the corners of her lips going up as she catches the lovesick look on your face. Fully knowing she’s being watched, fully feeling the warmth in her cheeks, she leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. Careful to not linger long, she pulls away and goes back to her conversation with her sister.

No more hiding.

—☽—

“Am I buying groceries for two people or three this week?” You ask as you walk into the kitchen, fidgeting with the pen in your hand,

“Mmm… Jacob mentioned maybe stopping by tomorrow night, so probably three,” Melissa answers, looking through the pantry, “and we need potatoes, I forgot to write that down.”

“Red ones?” You joke, coming up behind her to press your lips to the junction of her neck. Leaning her head back onto your shoulder, she lets you continue your path up her neck to her jaw, nipping at her ear. “I gotta get going before they close,” Melissa whines at the loss of contact, “I’ll be quick, might not even pay.”

She chuckles warmly, scrunching her nose, “right, sure you won’t, goodie-two-shoes.”

Pulling away, you jot down russets and give her another kiss, this one to her lips. “I love you,” you mumble as you part, “see you in a bit.”

The moment the front door shuts, the once cozy and nonchalant Melissa is replaced by a frenzied and excited one. Flying around the house, she begins to put her plan in place. Tealights are placed everywhere, the lighter checked for fuel, the small box from under her socks now buried in her pocket, she just had to open the bottle of Angel’s Envy. It took an embarrassing number of different liquor stores to find, but that was months ago, and this is now.

Melissa lights the last candle just as she hears your car door slam shut, then the trunk. Staying out of direct view, she watches you come in the door, looking at your feet as you walk. You’re in your own little world, completely walking through to the kitchen, dropping the bags off. Making your way into the living room, you almost drop the bouquet in your hands.

Candles all around the room, music playing softly from the record player, Melissa wearing your sweater. Your jaw drops, eyes wide as you stare at the redhead, utterly bewildered. She takes the chance to step a little closer, watery smile stretching across her face as you shakily hold out red chrysanthemums. Taking them carefully, she sets them on the table, grabbing your hand to pull you with her. Soft eyes watch her every movement, letting her move you around until you’re where she wants you.

“I love you,” Melissa says quietly, shifting from the couch to the floor, “I’ve loved you since the day I met you, and I haven’t stopped once. Even when I didn’t know, I loved you. When I wouldn’t listen to my own brain, I loved you. When I thought I couldn’t, I loved you.”

“Mel…” Your voice comes out cracked, a wobbly lip stuck between smiling and sobbing.

“Let me finish, baby,” she says softly, stroking the hand she holds in her own, “you are everything to me, and it took me too long to figure that out. But now, I’m not taking a single thing for granted, not you, never you.” Melissa reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a small, emerald box, “I wish I could’ve had you my whole life, but all I can ask you for is the rest of it.”

Tears spill down your cheeks at her words, fingers clinging to her hand like a life source. You so badly want to reach out, cup her face, and kiss her, her words playing the strings of your heart, but you refrain. Too much restraint goes into not pouncing on her the second she pulled out the ring box, your lips practically begging to be on hers already. You can’t help the frown on your face when Melissa’s hand leaves you, properly holding the ring to present it to you.

“Will you marry me?” The smile on her lips only grows as she asks, knowing what you’ll say just based on the look you give her.

What she doesn’t account for was that all your restraint would break, and she’s knocked to the floor as you pepper her face with kisses, lips smacking against her skin. Moving from her forehead, to her cheeks, and finally, to her lips. All love, all want, all devotion, all you.

“Yes, yes,” you answer quickly, lips barely parting from hers, “God, I love you. I love you so much.”

Chuckling at your overexcited babbling, she manages to sit you both up, keeping you in her lap. A warm hand pulls your left hand from her face, sliding the ring on without taking her eyes off of you. Your hand immediately goes back to her face, pulling her into your kiss once more.

Morning back pain be damned, neither of you leave the floor of the living room the rest of the night. Waking up with your heart beating under her ear is all the consolation she needs, your newly ringed hand in hers.

At the next family dinner, all the cousins take one peek at your hand, eyes widening. Melissa and you both brace for shouting and to be lifted in the air by one of her brothers, but you were wrong. Maria Christina groans as she passes a twenty over to Seamus, who was getting handed money by at least four other people. He peeks up to see a very shocked you and Melissa.

“What? We all saw it coming, I just picked the right week. Ma said tomorrow.”

note: time for sol’s monthly novel <3 hope you enjoyed

feedback appreciated as always

[justmeinatree]

A Wet Dream Just Dangling

Summary : vampire harry wants to eat you out.

TW : smut, period sex, oral (f receiving)

Word Count : 1.5k

“c’mon, darling,” harry coos, laying in bed, tangled up with you, using the softness of your tummy as a pillow. “don’t have to be shy with me.”

“harry,” you giggle, biting your lip, “never in a million years would i have thought of doing this.”

“hmm, i could wait a million years, but i’d really rather not,” he grumbles, fingertips gently stroking your skin. “you know it’ll make you feel better, my love.”

“s’embarrassing. and really awkward,” you groan, stuffing your face in a pillow, fingers carding through your boyfriend’s hair.

“nothing to be embarrassed about. totally normal thing,” he turns his head, chin pressed into your skin, peering up at you. “besides, s’not like it’s my first time.”

“that doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” you giggle. 

when you met harry, and inevitably fell deeply in love, you knew there would be a learning curve to dating him. the whole vampire thing being a bit of an adjustment for you. 

in the last 6 months, you’d gotten used to the feeding part of dating him. a weekly, sometimes twice a week, occurrence, that you’d grown to honestly be excited for. the intimate part of it all wasn’t lost on you. if anything, it made you feel closer to him.

so far, the idea of period sex hadn’t come up. that is, until today. your cramps were a little worse than usual, and although you know that sex has helped to alleviate them, you also know that he’s not just asking for sex. he’s asking to eat you out.

“beautiful girl, you’ll love it,” he hums, pecking over your stomach, tongue darting to take a few tentative licks of your skin. 

your taste invades his senses immediately, fangs poking out on their own accord, gently scraping against you, just enough to make a trail of goosebumps follow their path.

“harry,” you whine softly. he knows that whine, knows that what he’s doing is working. and the lower he makes his way down your stomach, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting, the more he can smell you. smell the blood, smell the arousal mixing in. his mind starts going hazy, only able to focus on blood, blood, blood. but more specifically your blood.

“please,” he mutters so softly you barely caught it, fingertips dancing by the waistband of your sweatpants, lips and tongue and fuck, so much harry, ghosting over your hips. “please, will you let me, my love ?” little puffs of warm air tickling your skin.

“do it,” you sigh contently, setting your reservations aside at the pure desperate neediness to his tone. you’re not sure you could have ever imagined your big scary vampire to sound so soft and small, it made you give into him even quicker than usual.

the next moment flies by in a flash, your pants ripped clean off you, legs spread wide, thighs held open with his hands, an animalistic growl echoing from harry’s chest, fangs on full display, dropping down to breathe you in.

“fuck, fuck,” harry groans, his temple resting against your inner thigh, eyes locked on your cunt. you were absolutely soaked. your hormones on overdrive from your period, plus well, day 2 of your period, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen something so fucking beautiful. 

his tongue tentatively pokes out, taking a lick at your sopping folds, harry’s eyes rolling back. “fucking christ, my beautiful girl, can’t-“ he shakes his head, taking another lick, “can’t hold myself back. stop me if it’s too much.”

and with that, he delves in. face instantly pressing into your cunt, tongue darting into you, licking at your inner walls with purpose.

you struggle to keep up with the quickness of it all, your body reacting to harry before your brain has a chance to keep up. with your back arching, a loud moan echoing through the room, you grip into his hair, pressing yourself more into his face.

you can feel the vibration from his groan, your pussy clenching on his lapping tongue. you can feel the bluntness of his fangs encompassing your heat, a slight sting from time to time, when they scrape particularly roughly. you can feel the nipping of his nails in your skin, thighs aching from his strength holding you spread open. 

with your period long forgotten, cramps seemingly swept away with the flick of harry’s tongue, you keep rolling your hips into his face, causing his moans to increase.

harry’s mind is reeling, so far gone, overtaken with the continuous flow of blood. he doesn’t have to pace himself, doesn’t have to worry about taking too much. he can slurp up as much as he likes. add in the sweet taste of your arousal, and all he can focus on is more, more, more.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the darkest crimson you think you’ve ever seen looking back at you. you note the deep red smeared over his pale porcelain skin, and you feel yourself tug on his hair harder, the sight making your skin prickle. you weren’t sure how this scene could ever be so beautiful, but here it was. and it made your stomach clench. 

you can see the moment harry knows you’re going to cum, his eyes looking at you in recognition, cunt throbbing on his tongue, his mouth moving north for a moment to suck and flick at your clit. instantly, your orgasm crashes over you, back arching, legs trembling against his hold.

and harry’s ecstatic to lick you through it, scooping up the bubbles of blood, a guttural moan vibrating from the depths of his chest, his tongue migrating south again, face following suit.

without a moment to breathe, harry being hyper focused on blood, languidly stroking his tongue up and down and up and down through your slit, from entrance to clit, lapping up the blood, the arousal, the overwhelming sense of you, you, you.

“harry,” you whimper breathily, trying to compose yourself post orgasm, all while still having his tongue scooping from deep inside you. you couldn’t budge your legs at all, no matter how hard you tried to close them, your entire body prickling with heat every time he’d stroke your sweet spot.

your whines fall on deaf ears, harry much too busy with his face buried in your cunt. it was moments like these where he loves that breathing isn’t a problem he needs to worry about anymore. 

so he continues on, sucking and slurping, getting completely lost in the seemingly endless supply of sustenance. so much so, that you’re almost certain he’s completely missed the fact that you’re cumming again.

your moans had gotten increasingly loud, body trembling and wracking in his hands, fingers pulling tight on his hair. your cunt was clenched hard around his tongue, but his muscles were strong, and it didn’t stop him one bit. growling pants coming from between your legs, he flicked his tongue over and over and over against your inner walls.

body covered in a sheen of sweat, you were panting, whining, so fucking overstimulated. and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him. even with your third orgasm looming, the coil in your stomach tighter than it’s been all night, almost painfully so, you could not stop.

your hips try to lift off the bed, muscles stretching and tensing all at once, an explosion of heat and tingles spreads through you, your cunt at the centre of the storm.

harry groans happily, his mouth working you through your third orgasm, hands sliding from your inner thighs, around to the small of your back, holding you. 

instantly, your legs close on his head, a moan vibrating from harry’s mouth, his hold leaving your back, sliding over your bum, up the back of your thighs, to press your knees into your chest.

and for the first moment since his escapade began, he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, looking at it, admiring his beautiful girl’s most intimate parts. he knows he’s pushed you to a limit, doesn’t have to ask, he absolutely knows you well enough by now. 

he still, however, unable to help himself, takes a gentle lick all the way up your slit, your body flinching in response. “m’sorry, darling. just so pretty.”

heat rises to your cheeks, wiggling your hips, trying to get away from him, as embarrassment, shyness creeps up on you.

and again, knowing you so well, harry notices, shaking his head, pecking against the back of your thigh, knees still pressed to your chest. he takes another gentle lick up your cunt, groaning, “don’t know why you even bother with pads and tampons. fuckin waste of money, if you ask me.”

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms @cc-horan

[xxblairexxss]

Jealousy (part 4)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

The end! Thank you for loving the short series. I think this might be my best one yet because I didn’t limit myself to include everything but it was longer than my usual ones. Apologies it long fics are not your thing!

Your week went by with no more phone calls. Charles didn’t ask for another chance to speak to you and you were so glad he didn’t because you weren’t sure if you were gonna find it appealing or irritating. Deep down, you knew there was still an enraged flame in your heart that you couldn’t ignore regardless of your feelings for him.

You stopped replying to his texts too but you still read it from the notifications bar. He would tell you about what he did on the day, would ask you if you had eaten, how was your day but none of his questions were answered. He went to Maranello right away and stayed there until the next race so you were glad you didn’t have to meet him.

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Charles was demented with worry. He knew he was hoping too much when you unblocked his number but he never thought you would stop replying to his texts. He didn’t know what you were up to and that made him agitated.

Y/F/N has added to their story

You hadn’t unblock him on his Instagram but he would still be able to see your friend’s. He saw pictures of you on your friend’s Instagram story, all smiles and grinning ear to ear. He missed you a lot. He would stare at his phone every night before he went to sleep, anticipating your name popping up in his notification or phone call but none of it actually came. He was disappointed, of course, but he knew he deserved this.

But he still hadn’t lose you, had he?

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You had declined Charles’s offer to join him on his private flight to Mexico because you still had things to do at work on Friday so you had to miss practice rounds. You even forced Y/F/N to come with you so you wouldn’t be left alone with Charles because you didn’t know how to act and what to say around him. As if he wasn’t your boyfriend for 2 years.

“Please come with me! Please please please!”

Y/F/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, turning her back on you to which earned her a pillow threw at her head. “No, thank you. Hey!” She then sat up and threw it back at you and chortled at the face you made.

“I need you there! I can’t be with him alone!”

“He was your boyfriend for 2 years. Why are you acting as if you haven’t done anything nasty with him.” You stopped peeking inside your closet and glared at her.

“That was so unrelated.”

“You get what I mean! If you don’t want to be left alone then just ignore him! Plus, he’s gonna be so busy he won’t have time to chase after you.” Y/F/N shook her head at the navy top you showed her and you placed it back into the rows of clothes.

“I know but he even asked me to go to the after party. You know what happened the last time I went to a social event.” You picked another top and earned a yes from Y/F/N so you folded it into your small luggage.

“There’s a party?” You heard her sounded intrigued. You should have known this better. She would never say no to parties. The conversations could have been a plain sailing one if only you mentioned this topic first.

“Yeah. There’ll be hot guys everywhere. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.” You packed another pair of pants and saw in the corner of your eyes Y/F/N scrammed away, leaving the room.

“Wait for me!”

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You arrived at the hotel early in the morning and Charles had arranged everything. Y/F/N was passed out as soon as you guys checked in while you immediately gotten ready to go to the paddock before the qualifying round started.

Once you arrived, there were still a lot of people waiting at the entrance meanwhile the paddock was already packed with a few interviews being done at every spots. You only took a few steps when you heard your phone rang.

“Hi.”

You looked up from your phone and saw your boyfriend, or ex boyfriend, whichever you preferred walking towards you and you hated yourself for feeling this way. You felt like a kid who bumped into their crush at a school hallway. That silly, giddy with excitement as if it was your first time meeting him. Your heart was throbbing so loud that if he told you he could hear your heartbeat, you would have believed him right away. The butterflies in your stomach went wild and it made your knees weak. You smiled back at him and he took your hand in his, clasping it as he turned and walked back to the entrance. The sound of the fans around the paddock area screaming his name turned into a mumble as you kept your eyes on his back.

You were so glad you didn’t get to see and talk to him that much throughout the rest of the qualifying round. You didn’t even stay until the end though he offered you a ride back to the hotel.

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“How was it?”

“It was okay?”

Y/F/N mocked your face and you squinted your eyes at her. “What?”

“Tell me more! Did he say anything? Did he hug you? Tried to kiss you maybe?”

“No! He just held my hand. It’s not like he had any free time to even talk about us.” You took off your earrings and tied your hair in a bun.

“Such an asshole, isn’t he? When is he gonna apologise? Is he even gonna say sorry? Does he know how to say sorry?” You heard her blabbered with a mouth full of chips.

“We are not talking about this anymore. I’m gonna take a bath.”

As you started shampooing your roots, you heard the doorbell ring and thought it was just another room service that your best friend might had ordered.

“Hi, can I talk to Y/N?”

“She’s busy. We’re busy.” Y/F/N looked at the guy up and down and was going to close the door on him when he propelled it back.

“Wait! Please, I just want to give her something.”

Y/F/N stretched her arm forward and Charles blinked in confusion. “Give it to me. I’ll pass it to her.”

“Can I see her instead?”

“No. Either you pass it to me to you can go back to your room.” She replied sternly to which made him obediently handed the paper bags to her and walked away.

“Look,” Charles stopped in his trail when he heard her broke the silence.

“I’m not mad at you. Wait, I am mad at you. I’m pissed off, actually. But as much as I want her to leave your ass, she still loves you and I think that’s more than enough confirmation you need. I’ll give you a space to talk to her tomorrow so do whatever you need to do.” Charles was going to say something but the door slammed on his face faster than he could even blink.

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“Who was that? Did you order room service?” You walked out the bathroom in robes with wet hair, gasping when you saw boxes of pizza and doughnuts on the coffee table. “This is a lot! When did you buy them? Oh, this is my favourite!”

“I didn’t. The delivery guy came all the way to our room to deliver these.” You saw the displeased face on her and frowned in confusion.

“He also left you that. I don’t know what you told him but you could open a Dior pop-up shop with those stuffs.”

You looked to the side and saw a Dior paper bag full of different shades of the new lip gloss. It was the one you briefly mentioned in your last phone call with him. There was also a small note written on it. “I might forgot or had missed you said your favourite shade during our last call so I got them all. And I don’t think you have eaten anything after the qualifying round today so enjoy the food.”

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The race ended with Charles getting P3, letting him to get the podium spot again after missing it a few races. Y/F/N has asked you to head back early because she needed hours to make sure she looked hot to flirt all the guys at the afterparty. It always made you wonder how both of you ended up being best friends even with all those contrasts in your personalities.

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You arrived with Y/F/N a few minutes late so it was already crowded with people. As much as it made you feel nervous, Y/F/N was thrilled.

“You look beautiful, angel.”

“Oh?” You turned around and was greeted with Charles, hands in his pocket, a few steps away from you. You opened your mouth to reply to the compliment, but Y/F/N cut you off.

“Right? Too beautiful to be treated like a shit.”

You nudged her on her waist and glowered. “Okay, this is not the time!”

“I’m off! Charles, she’s yours.” Y/F/N fixed your hair before leaving both of you, too fast that you couldn’t even catch her arm to force her to stay with you.

“Thank you..” You awkwardly smiled, your hands were clasp together, trying not to look at his green eyes that much.

“Thank you?”

“For yesterday. You really didn’t have to, but , thank you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing compared to what you actually deserved. Anyway, do you want to—“ Charles turned around and saw one of his friends calling out to him. You looked at the source of the voice and saw his group of friends standing at the end of the room.

“You should go with them.”

“No, come with me.” He was going to seize your hand when you stepped back in defence.

“It’s fine, I’ll be somewhere else.”

“Y/F/N will kill me if she finds you alone. I know you hate me and you don’t want to be left alone with me but stay with me this time. Please?”

You felt his hand gently taking yours in his as he looked into your eyes, as if he was asking for consent and you gave in. Sure, you despised him a lot but the moment he held your hand, feeling his thumb stroking your knuckles, it reminded you that he had always been your solace in life. It took everything in you to not embrace him right there and then.

He introduced you to the rest of the groups and immediately engaged in a full conversations. His hand never left yours. You were just standing by his side, playing around with your heels when you were greeted with Y/F/N and a few people with her. She would always brought her group of friends with you at any party just to introduce you, her best friends with her new friends. Charles turned around when he felt you accidentally tugged on his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You were so glad for Y/F/N and was simply amazed with her social skills. Though you had a hard time engaging in a conversation and preferred to just listened, she kept on pulling you into the conversation by constantly asking you series of questions.

“That’s the worse. Right, Y/N?”

“Isn’t Y/N so pretty? I did her hair.”

“Y/N is very good at mix and match her clothes. Right, Y/N? But she still needed my help.”

Throughout the conversations, Charles still kept your hand in his but then it got uncomfortable when your hand started sweating so you ended up holding his pinky finger, occasionally fiddled with his fingers since you didn’t have your ring on. You thought he would pull away but he didn’t. He didn’t even budge.

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“Do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

“Can we?”

“Of course, angel. Let’s go.”

Charles had took you back to the hotel but it was only when you had arrived in front of your room when you realised you didn’t have your access card with you. He had asked you to stay in his room first until Y/F/N called.

It had been a while since the last time you were with him in a small space. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted with his smell, the mixture of scent between the different collection of his perfumes, the smell of his shower gels it was all too overwhelming it made your eyes teared up instantly.

“Sit down, silly. Why are you standing?”

You let out a sob, looking down and he stoop down to look at your face, sounding all worried and anxious. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Y/N?”

You continued to sob uncontrollably and he enfolded you in his arms, one hand around the back of your head and another one wrapped on your waist. “It’s okay, angel. I got you.”

“I hate you.”

His arms around your figure tighten when your body shook and he planted a kiss on the side of your head. “It’s okay, I hate myself too.”

“But I miss you so much, I miss your touch, your kiss, your voice, everything about you. I tried so hard to ignore you because maybe it would be easier for me to end everything, to end us but it was so hard.” The silent tears kept on running down your cheeks that you were so sure his shirt was already soaked.

Charles’s blood ran cold when you mentioned about ending things. Both of you had always been so optimistic with the relationship. You would always talked about how you would grow old together and he would have to assure you that he would always find you beautiful or you would have sulk.

He pulled away and crouched down to hold your cheeks in his hands and level his eyes with yours. “No, please, no. Please don’t leave me. Please, angel. I know I fucked up but give me another chance to be better. To fix this. I know it makes me selfish but I can’t see you with anyone else. Please.”

You didn’t reply but kept on wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, harshly, because of how frustrating everything was.

“I’ll kneel down if you want. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I can’t lose you. I really, really can’t.” His eyes were red from holding his tears and it smashed your heart. He looked so broken with compunction it made you cry even more.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I should have listened to you. I just got so mad when I saw you with other guys when I should have known better. I was too blinded with jealousy.” He took a shaky breath and wrapped you back in his arms so you wouldn’t see him cry.

“And when I saw what happened to you that night, I was just so furious at myself for being so stupid and allowing that to happen to you so I just blew up at you when all you needed was just my commiseration and assurance.” He left a few lingering kisses to the crown of your head and mumbled against your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, angel.”

“Do you miss me?”

You felt his chest quivered as he tittered to your silly question. Had you got a glimpse of his life during the absence of you, you would have seen how miserable he actually was. “I don’t think the words I miss you is enough to express how much I long for you.”

You were no longer hugging his middle but your body was flushed against him as you stroke his cheek, feeling it damp from the tears that he tried to hide from you.

His arms left your waist briefly as he unhooked the necklace around his neck, pulling the end of it so the ring would slip out into his palm. “Do you… accept my apology?”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled when he looked taken aback. “You are forgiven, Charles.”

“Can I put this back on you?” He looked nervous, as if he was going through every words he was about to say, too scared if you would slip off his fingers again.

“Are you proposing to me?”

“Not yet but I will. Mark my words.” He slid the ring back into your ring finger and lifted your hand to peck on it. Your arms circled around his neck as he locked you in his embrace. Your face was just an inch away from him that your nose would collide into his every time you moved your head a little. “I love you, Y/N.”

“And I love you more, Charles.” He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to yours, his arms cinching you to him as you kissed him back, your hands feeling the silken strands of his hair against your fingers.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Hello?” Charles squinted his eyes and put the phone to his ear, slightly whispering to not wake up the sleeping beauty in his arms.

“Charles? Do you happened to know where Y/N is? I just realised she’s not in the room.”

He laid his head back on the pillow and yawned. “Go to sleep, Y/F/N.”

“Where’s Y/N, you dick!”

“My girlfriend’s here with me. All safe and sound. You don’t have to worry.” His hand ran up and down against your back,when he felt you stirred on his chest.

“Oh, okay. I thought she was kidnapped or something. Break her heart again and I’ll make sure you won’t get any podium in your entire career. I mean it.”

You tilted your head a little to look at him, your eyes barely open. “Who was it?”

“It was just your guardian angel making sure I don’t fuck things up again. Let’s go back to sleep, baby.”

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @buendiabebeta @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @ironmaiden1313 @teenagedreams-cl @sheslikeacurse @love4lando @charli123456789 @ru-kru @httpspedri26 @honey6578 @sealsu @shyartisanvoidwagon @changetyre @aundercover

Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added in the tag list!

[lvis44]

Freak Like That // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Kind of Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 8.9k+

Summary: Seeing him again shouldn't be as hard as it is, but the universe has funny ways of making sure you end up back in his arms.

Notes: I'm aware I said this was coming like 3 weeks ago but your girl has her first corporate job that has been much more demanding week by week so I've been busy!! I toyed with turning this into more of a fic so if you're interested in a pt.2 of them LMK. Sweet Escape Epilogue is still on its way but has turned into a bit of a stand alone fic within a chapter, don't hate me, or maybe you'll love me for it. I didn't proofread this and wrote part of it while I was a tad bit drunk, oopsie! Love you all!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

It had taken everything in you to move on from Lewis. You had done everything in your power to forget him, how he felt, how good he was to you, but the thought of him always lingered. You would have been a fool to ever think that anything could ever truly happen between the two of you, you were mature enough to know it was always just sex, it would always be just sex. That didn’t mean you never fantasized about how it would feel to be loved by him. It was never a relationship between the two of you, there was never any commitment from him. He had been more of a fuck buddy, a sugar daddy in many senses. He was older than you, detached, and loved to shower you with gifts. You only ever had his attention in private, and when you did he made you see stars. Lewis had always managed to unlock something within you that you didn’t know existed, bringing alive senses you’d never felt. He taught you things about your body and needs that you had been so naive to. No one had ever been able to compare to him. Parting from him had been one of the most difficult tasks you had ever been faced with, but you knew the agreement between the two of you wasn’t sustainable, you were only ever destined for heartbreak if you continued with him. You had done so well for the last year, ignoring his texts, doing your best to avoid his heavy presence online. Him being in the same room as you however, was something that you were not prepared for. He looked ethereal, his beige suit jacket showing off just a peak of his chest, enough to force the images back into your head, his tattoos glistening above you as he wears you out. He has one braid hanging perfectly in front of his face, all you can think of is how his braids felt tickling your neck when he would pant dirty words into your sticky skin.

“Y/N? You okay darling?” The voice that came from beside you startled you. When you looked to your side, your boyfriend was looking at you with concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry about that, just zoned out for a second.” You try to fake laugh it off, not wanting him to pry.

He continues to look suspicious but doesn’t press any further, instead seamlessly transitioning into a conversation with one of the businessmen standing with him. You find your attention returning back to where Lewis had stood, his attention now fully on you. His smirk is knowing as he drags his eyes shamelessly up and down your body. You have to use every ounce of power in yourself to pull your eyes away from him as one of your boyfriends business partners directs a question to you. You put your fake smile on, engaging in boring conversation as you do your best to ignore the strong presence that is Lewis. You had been worried that one day you would run into him, your boyfriend working in the fashion industry made it almost inevitable.

You managed to stay relatively strong throughout the night, the champagne helping immensely. Lewis had disappeared into the crowd and you had done your absolute best not to look for him. You spent your evening tailing behind your boyfriend, being introduced to random men that you assumed worked in the same circles as him. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your lower back throughout most of the night, the only acknowledgement that you were even really there. He was a fine man, he had taken his time winning you over, taken you on romantic dates, but the spark still wasn’t there, and the arguments were becoming more and more frequent. You knew he cared about you, treated you well, but he was simply the safest option, and he was getting sick of your lack of interest in his work. You were growing increasingly tired of being his arm candy, using you to show off to his business partners. The intimacy lacked passion, nothing matched the raw passion you had with Lewis once upon a time. It wasn’t fair to compare him to Lewis, he was actually there to be your partner, not just a fun time, but it was almost impossible. 

“There’s only a few more people I need to talk to and then I promise we can go.” Your boyfriend whispered into your ear. You couldn’t wait to get out of your heels and be in a quiet room, away from the people faking sincerity in hopes of investments and business opportunities.

You grab another glass of champagne as your boyfriend orders an Old Fashion before once again pulling you along through the crowd of people, evidently in search of someone.

“Ah, there he is.” You hear him exclaim, not yet able to see who he’s approaching.

When you come out from behind him you want to scream, he has approached Lewis, completely unaware of the situation he has just put you in.

“It’s so fantastic to meet you, I’m Brian, we work with a lot of the same people around here. It’s an honor, I’m a big fan.” Your boyfriend extends his hand to Lewis eagerly.

You can’t help but be confused, your boyfriend has never once mentioned racing, you can only assume he’s a fan of his work in fashion, or he’s lying.

“Nice to meet you too,” Lewis responds politely with a small chuckle, returning the handshake before turning his attention to you, “and always wonderful to see you Y/N.”

You want to melt into the earth below you. You can see the devious look in his eyes, blatantly announcing your familiarity, you thank god your boyfriend doesn’t know the depth of familiarity you have with the man in front of you, not yet at least.

“You two know each other?” Your boyfriend asks, confusion covering his face. 

“Oh yeah, we know each other well. Y/N hasn’t told you?” Lewis continues, a wide smile across his beautiful lips. To anyone else it would look kind and genuine, but you know he’s playing at something else, daring you, challenging your boyfriend in the simplest of ways.

“No she’s never-“ Your boyfriend starts before you cut him off.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other well, we’ve just met at things like this before.” You rush out, it’s not entirely a lie, that is exactly how you first met him. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know the rest.

Lewis sends you a smirk, cocky and mischievous.

“All I can say man is you landed a very talented woman.” Lewis says to your boyfriend, the words falling off his lips in such a tone that your stomach flips.

“She is pretty incredible.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Lewis’ words. You can see out of the corner of your eye how Lewis glances down at the action, his jaw tightening momentarily.

Your boyfriend is on a mission, immediately transitioning into talking business with Lewis. You do your best not to undress him with your eyes, opting to look down at his feet throughout most of the conversation. You can feel Lewis glance at you every once in a while, trying so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes you feel. As you hear someone calling your boyfriends name you think you are finally free from the situation.

“So sorry, it sounds like I’m needed elsewhere, it was truly great meeting you, it was an honor.” Your boyfriend says to Lewis, shaking his hand once again before turning to you. You're ready to follow after him, happy to be dragged into yet another boring conversation, “Why don’t you stay here and catch up for a moment, I’ll find you later.”

He doesn’t give you even a moment to object as he presses a kiss to your temple and quickly makes his exit. You both watch as your boyfriend walks away, you in fear of the situation he’s left you in, Lewis in excitement of the exact same thing.

“Soooo,” Lewis draws out, finally looking directly at you, “how have you been?”

“Seriously?” You bite at him, unamused by his behavior.

He just shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, the glass barely hiding his amused smirk.

“What the hell was that? There’s no reason he needs to know anything.” You say, your tone low and harsh.

He just laughs, “There’s no way youre fucking that dude. I doubt that square can make you cum. Not the way I did.”

“Lewis,” You hiss at him, looking around hoping no one heard him, “he’s good to me, leave him alone.”

“So I’m right, he can’t make you cum can he.” His words come out as a statement not a question, so confident in himself, in his knowledge of your needs.

“Untrue, he’s perfectly fine, and he offers so much more than you ever did.” You throw back at him, not happy at his assessment of your relationship, he has no right to assume anything. Even if he’s partially correct.

“He might not break your heart baby, but I doubt he can break your back the way I did.” He’s gotten closer to you, his voice lower, seductive.

You can feel your breath hitch, the familiar smell of him engulfing your senses, his words going to your core unwillingly. He notices it too, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. All you can think about is how that same tongue has felt in your mouth, all over your body, inside of you, so many times. He chuckles as he watches you get lost in thought, knowing exactly where your mind has wandered.

“He’s gonna be busy for a while, we could relive some old times.” Lewis says quietly, his head gesturing back toward the hall where the bathrooms are.

“Lewis, no.” You say against your will, desperately wanting to follow him mindlessly down the hall and let him have his way with you, but you can’t let yourself do it to your boyfriend.

“Offer stands, always, ya know when you finally get sick of him.” Lewis says casually.

Within moments your boyfriend has appeared at your side once again. You worry that he’s heard something but he seems unbothered, unaware of what you were just offered.

“Vance and I are going to go grab drinks down the street, talk about the contract somewhere a little quieter.” He says to you, ignoring Lewis entirely.

You sigh, realizing just how much longer your night had just gotten, “I really just want to head back to the hotel.”

“Really? You know these meetings always go better when you’re around. You take the focus off of me.” He half complains half laughs.

“We’ve been here forever babe, I really just want to get out of my dress.” You say softly, trying to get out of the boring boys club meeting.

“You’ll be fine, besides how would you even get back to the hotel? I need to have the car take Vance and I and you’re never going to find a cab with all of this going on.” He gestures back towards that large party, his voice starting to sound annoyed.

“I’ll figure something out, I really just want to go back to the hotel, the day has been long enough as is.” You sigh, hoping he lets it go.

“C'mon babe, we’re supposed to be a team.” He continues to try to convince you. 

Never have you been part of his business ventures, only the arm candy that he  brings to meetings when he is trying to show off to someone.

“And we are, I’m just not up to staying out so late tonight.” You say, growing agitated, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Lewis.

“We won’t be out late.” Your boyfriend continues to argue, “And how are you even going to get to the hotel?”

“I’ve got a car coming in just a little bit, I’ll get her back.” Lewis pipes up before you can respond, not looking at you but directing his attention to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend lets out a frustrated huff before conceding.

“That would be great, I appreciate it man.” Your boyfriend agrees without asking you, shaking Lewis’ hand.

“Anytime, don’t worry, she’ll be well taken care of.” The smile on Lewis’ face is so sweet you could almost believe he is just being polite.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even say another word to you, walking away toward his business partners after patting you on the shoulder.

“He evidently trusts you.” Lewis says, raising his eyebrow at you.

“He has absolutely no reason not to.” You fire back at him, feeling defensive.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Lewis ignores you, wiggling his now empty drink in the air. 

“I thought your car was going to be here in a second.” You say, raising an accusatory brow at him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I said it would be here in a little bit,” Lewis starts, taking note of your eye roll at his words, “It will be fine, I’ll have you back before Prince Charming gets his drunk ass back to your room.”

“He’s not drunk.” You defend him unnecessarily, making Lewis laugh.

“If he’s getting drinks with Vance, he definitely will be by the time he’s back. Come have a drink with me, I’ve missed you.” Lewis shakes his head, evidently familiar with the man your boyfriend is getting drinks with.

“You’ve missed me?” The words come out of your mouth without meaning to, you’re genuinely surprised he’s even thought of you since you parted ways.

“Yes, of course I have,” He laughs, directing you toward the bar, “I always enjoyed myself with you. I still don’t get why you left.” His voice sounds vulnerable as he lets the last bit slip.

“You know exactly why I left.” You say, mindlessly following him to the bar against your better judgment.

“No I really don’t, you never really gave me an explanation. You just disappeared.” Lewis argues with you, keeping his voice low as he directs you onto a bar stool.

“Lewis, we both know nothing about what we were doing was sustainable. There’s no way you could have ever given me what I need.” You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation, especially not in public.

“And what is it that you need? Some guy that can’t satisfy you? You’re really trying to tell me that you’re happier with him than you were with me?” Lewis continues to push you, waving down the bartender.

“Lewis, I was never with you, and besides that, you have no idea what our relationship is like.” You defend yourself, not directly answering him.

“I think I saw enough to know that you’re not having fun.” Lewis shoots back at you, waiting for the bartender to make his way over to the two of you.

“It’s not about fun, it’s about stability.” You say, trying to stand your ground.

“You deserve both.” Lewis mumbles as the bartender appears in front of you.

Lewis orders for you, not needing to ask what you want, confident in his prior experience with you.

Your mind wanders back to the rare times that you would go out in public with him, hidden in the back corner of dive bars. The two of you getting tipsy off of shitty drinks before falling into bed together. It was rare times like those that made you fantasize about actually being in a relationship with him, dream about what your life would be like with him giggling through kisses as a permanent fixture.

“What have you been up to?” Lewis pulls you out of your thoughts, thankfully changing the subject.

“Just the usual, not much has changed.” You shrug, taking a sip of the drink in front of you.

“Descriptive,” Lewis teases you, “nothing new? How’d you meet your square?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “You really want to talk about my boyfriend?”

“I need to know what I’m up against.” Lewis shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re not up against anything because it’s not a competition.” You deadpan, annoyed with his confidence.

“Everything’s a competition babe, that’s life.” Lewis laughs, taking a sip of his drink,

You can’t help the way your stomach flips at the familiar pet name, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it fall off his lips, it came so naturally to him.

Somehow you find yourself engaged in a normal conversation with Lewis eventually, discussing his race season and other projects he’s been working on. You’ve always loved to hear him talk about the things he’s passionate about, easily getting lost in his words. You stay with him, enjoying the shockingly easy conversation, indulging in more drinks than you should. It’s not until you see him check his watch do you think about how much time has probably passed.

“So is your car here yet, or are you planning on holding me hostage?” You ask him, filling the momentary silence.

“Not used to many hostage situations that include free drinks,” Lewis laughs, “but we should probably head out front, car will be here soon.”

“Thank you for the drinks by the way.” You say quietly, sliding off your stool to follow him out of the venue.

He just smiles, no words leaving his mouth as he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out with him. It doesn’t take long before his car is at the curb, his hand not having left your back as he urges you into the car. Despite the multiple seats available, he settles into the seat directly next to you, his thigh touching yours sending electricity through your whole body. You curse yourself for how simple it is for him to draw a reaction from you. 

“So where’s the square got you staying?” Lewis asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up.” You mumble before giving him directions that he relays to his driver.

There’s a large part of you that’s surprised he seems to actually be taking you back to your hotel, expecting him to try so much more before actually granting you your freedom. You can’t help but be slightly annoyed with your boyfriend for putting you in this position, even if he doesn’t know your history with Lewis, the rumors surrounding him should be enough to keep your girlfriend from being alone with him. Even if your boyfriend trusts you, why does he trust Lewis so much?

The drive is mostly silent. Lewis has his arm up over the back of your seat and as much as you want to fight him on it, push him away, you can’t bring yourself to do so, you enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. His body heat is intoxicating in the worst way, you can’t help but relish in the familiar feeling, so used to being cocooned in his arms. You can tell that you’re getting close to your hotel by the familiar streets, Lewis still scrolling on his phone as if he could care less that you’re sat next to him for the first time in nearly a year. Maybe he’s given up, you think. Maybe he’s finally respecting your boundaries. All of that is thrown to the wind when the car begins to slow down. He scooches even closer to you, his head dropping to your neck.

“My offer always stands, I meant it when I said I miss you.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to your throat.

A small whimper leaves you involuntarily, secretly missing the way that his lips feel on your skin. You can feel a slight smirk on your skin as he pulls away, not far. His face comes up, directly in front of yours, his nose just grazing your own. Everything inside of you is screaming at you to get out of the car and not turn back, but your body is drawn toward him, he can feel it too. One large hand finds your thigh, running up the outside of it, just under the hem of your dress. You relish in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin for the first time in far too long. His eyes are heavy as he stares at you, hooded and darkened with lust. He leans forward just the slightest bit, ghosting his lips over yours. When you don’t pull back or fight him, he takes it as a good sign. His grip on your thigh tightens as he leans forward and properly connects your lips. The second his mouth is on yours he lets out a deep groan, one that seems to have been locked inside him for a long time. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, his tongue finding yours mindlessly. His tongue swirls against yours as his other hand comes to find the back of your head, pressing you harder against him. Your hands have a mind of their own, coming up to find the sides of his strong neck, not even thinking, you’ve been in another world since the second his lips found yours. When he finally departs you find yourself chasing his lips, making him peck yours once again.

“Come back to mine, babygirl.” He whispers, out of breath.

You let out a small whimper, your brain clouded by all of the ways you could explore him tonight, let him explore you.

���Yeah?” He coaxes, his head dropping back to your neck, “We can have so much fun babe. Everything you’ve been missing this last year, I promise.”

“Lewis, I can’t,” You just about groan, frustrated but sticking to your guns, “we’ve already crossed too many lines. I can’t do that to him.”

You try to push Lewis away but it’s worthless, his light assault on your neck is welcomed despite your words.

“Yeah, maybe we crossed a line. Why not cross some more? Hmm?” His words are spoken through kisses trailing up your neck and across your jaw, slowly making his way back towards your lips.

“Lew,” You breathe out, pushing at his chest once again, finally he disconnects from you, just barely, “I shouldn’t. I can’t, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s really not fair is it.” Lewis shakes his head, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, a whole different meaning to his words.

“I need to go.” You whisper, moving to get out of the car.

“Hey,” Lewis stops you, a hand on your wrist, “you still have my number, let me know if you change your mind. I’m only a few blocks down.”

You offer him a small smile, not sure how to respond and not able to be in his presence any longer. You slip out of his grasp, closing the door on him as you do. You can feel the heat from where his fingers gripped you, a burning sensation on your skin. You try to shake the sensation from your body as you make your way up to your room. You can hear his car drive away in the background, having to stop yourself from turning around and going back to him. When you arrive back to your room, its empty, your boyfriend nowhere to be found, evidently still out at drinks. You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. You want to scream. It’s so unbelievably unfair that someone can still have such a hold over you, despite having not seen him in a year. Lewis is addictive, and reintroducing an addictive substance to someone who has just barely become clean is always dangerous.

It’s a few hours before your boyfriend finally returns to the hotel. You’ve long since changed into comfier clothes and are lounging on the bed watching a random show, grateful to finally be out of your heels. When he finally arrives you can tell he’s beyond wasted, just like Lewis had predicted.

“Hey hun.” He slurs, swaying in the hallway as he tries and fails to steady himself.

“Hi,” You giggle, “have a good time with Vance?”

“Yeah,” He laughs back, “woulda had a better time if you had came along though.”

“You look like you had plenty of fun,” You raise a brow at him, “go change and come to bed.”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t want to come, honestly I would have closed that deal so much quicker” He says as he goes into the bathroom 

“I told you I wanted to get back to the hotel, I was tired.” You sigh

“Not too tired to hang out with Lewis Hamilton.” You can hear the anger in his voice and it makes you want to laugh.

“Really? You’re the one who told me to stay and hang out with him, not only that but you trusted him to take me home. How is that my fault?” You’re already annoyed as the words leave your mouth, already frustrated beyond belief in so many ways.

“Jesus Y/N, if I knew getting drinks would put you in such a mood maybe I would have come home sooner.” Your boyfriend says from the bathroom.

You have no idea where his sudden attitude has come from, you refusing going to drinks should not have put him in such a mood.

“I’m not in a mood, I just don’t appreciate you implying that I turned you down just to hang out with Lewis.” You argue as he exits the bathroom, his shirt now off, just in his suit pants.

“I know you didn’t leave that gala for quite some fucking time.” He spits at you drunkenly.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask him, confused how he even knows, not that it should even be an issue.

“You were too tired to come get drinks with me to help me with an important investor but you can stay and have drinks with Lewis Hamilton for another hour?” He accuses you, not taking into account that it’s partially his fault.

“We were waiting for his car so we got a drink,” You defend, “and how do you even know how long we were there?”

“People know you're my girl Y/N. Apparently people find it a bit strange when they see my girlfriend drinking at the bar with one of the most notorious playboys in the game.” His voice is slowly getting louder, putting you even more on edge.

“Oh so you have people keeping tabs on me now?” You question him.

“I don’t need to ask, they just do it. It’s embarrassing Y/N. I don’t need people thinking that my girlfriend is out fucking athletes.” He throws at you, rolling your eyes.

“All that should matter is that you know!” You yell at him.

“Do I?” His voice is laced with venom, a sudden distrust that you’ve never seen from him before.

“Well you certainly fucking should.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How do you know him?” He ignores your argument, taking a step closer to you.

“I told you.” 

“Yeah you told me how you met him, sure. How do you actually know him, because you seemed to be pretty fucking close.” He fires at you.

Your anger has reached a peak, not wanting to deal with your boyfriends drunken anger, you let the walls down.

“You really want to know how familiar I am with him? Hmm?” You challenge him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, he fucked me for a year straight. Best I ever had.” You shrug, your voice venomous. You have let all of your cares slip away.

“Excuse me?” Your boyfriend is seething, your last comment sticking with him.

“You heard me.” You say, your voice eerily calm. 

“You say that and then expect me to believe you didn’t fuck him tonight? How stupid do you think I am?” He sounds almost amused as he asks the question.

“I could have, oh god I could have, I was this close,” You hold up your fingers to emphasize your point, “but I didn’t. Ya know why? Because I’m in a relationship, I fucking you! I couldn’t do that to you. Yet here you are accusing me of going behind your back. You left me alone with him, you let him take me back to the hotel. Why? So you could prove a point about what you think of me?”

“If you were so close to fucking him, why don’t you go do exactly that?” Your boyfriend just about screams at you.

You’ve never had a fight of this magnitude, especially over something like this. Hearing his distrust and anger makes you rethink everything about him. Your mother always told you that drunk words are sober thoughts and you can’t help but feel that in this moment. In that moment you give up, why even try to convince him to trust you, if he thinks you’re going to cheat on him now why would he ever think differently.

“Fine.” You shrug, your voice calm.

“Seriously?” He’s taken aback, clearly not thinking you would act on it.

“You obviously don’t trust me so why not.” You say, not looking at him as you gather your things. You have no real plan about where you’re going to go, sure you are leaving things behind but not caring, just needing to get out of the room and away from his vile behavior.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re literally proving my point right now, you’ll fuck anyone who gives you attention. I thought I had managed to tame that shit in you.” He spits, watching you pack your things.

“Tame me?” You whip around at his words, “First of all, I’m not a fucking zoo animal. Second of all, if you’ve never trusted me why the fuck are you even here?”

“Jesus, I thought you could be better, you had so much fucking potential.” He sounds remorseful and it makes you want to scream. How dare he think you needed fixing.

“Fuck you, I’m done.” You say, your things finally zipped in your bag as you put on your shoes. 

He’s still yelling things at you as you make your way out of the room, not caring to stick around to hear what other awful things he has to say to you. You don’t properly breathe until you’re in the elevator, finally sure he’s not following you. That’s when you realize you don’t have anywhere to go, a lump forming in your throat as you think of everything that was said. Mindlessly you take out your phone, hesitating for a moment as you look at Lewis’ number, blocked for so long. You unblock him as you step out of the elevator and into the lobby, walking out to the street as you call his number, praying he’s not asleep. Going to him is probably the last thing you should be realistically doing, but he’s the only person you want to see right now.

“Hey stranger, I knew you’d end up calling.” His voice is cocky through the phone, you can hear his smirk.

“Lew.” You croak out, your tears finally coming to the front.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his tone changing drastically, immediately aware that something isn’t right. 

“You said you were staying nearby, can I come over?” You almost want to laugh at how desperate you sound.

“Of course, I’ll send you a car. Are you still at the hotel?” His voice is laced with concern and care and it makes your tears fall harder. It’s ridiculous that someone who had never been emotionally available could care for you more than your boyfriend.

“I’ll walk, just tell me where you are.” You shake your head as if he can see you.

“Y/N, it’s too late for you to be out walking alone, I’d be worried the whole time. Let me send you a car.” He argues.

“I need the fresh air honestly, just tell me where to go. Please.” Your voice breaks at the end of your plea, convincing him not to argue with you more, he can tell he won’t win.

Against his better judgment he finally tells you where he is, offering to stay on the phone with you while you walk. You’re tempted to take him up on it but you need the time to yourself. You’re still not sure why you feel such a desperate need to see him but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

The walk helps your head immensely, your agony switching to anger. Part of you wishes you had just gone back with Lewis when he offered, you would have proved your boyfriend right and still had a good night. If he doesn’t trust you, why be good for him?

When you arrive at Lewis’ hotel, he’s waiting in the door to his suite for you, his suit from earlier still on. He immediately takes note of your scowl and bag, his eyebrows raising. He doesn’t say a word as he steps aside to let you enter the room.

“That fucking asshole.” You say, dropping your bag as you finally turn to face a very concerned Lewis.

“What happened?” He asks you, cautiously approaching you.

“He doesn’t trust me! I could have come here and fucked you hours ago, but no, I stayed in his room and waited for his drunk ass to get back like a good little housewife. What do I get when he gets back? Accused of fucking you.” You let out in one big breath.

Lewis’ eyes widen, a slightly amused look on his face underneath the concern.

“So he accused you of cheating on him?” He questions, still trying to fully figure out what he’s dealing with.

“Oh not only that, he said he thought that he had tamed me, told me I embarrassed him.” You let out a bitter laugh.

“So he’s a square and a dumbass.” Lewis states with a cock of his head, frowning.

“Oh fuck you.” You spit at him.

“I’m just saying, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” He says softly, approaching you to put his hands on your arms gently, rubbing up and down softly in hopes of calming you somehow.

The gentle action makes you want to cry again, fall into him and never let him go. As if he can tell, he pulls you into his chest, holding you tight. You wrap your arms around his neck. You let yourself revel in the feeling of being in his arms, holding you so tight you almost can’t breathe, but you welcome it, you’ve missed it for so long.

“So why are you here baby, to piss him off?” Lewis asks quietly, loosening his grip on you slightly to get you to look at him.

“I don’t even know, I think I just wanted you.” You sigh, embarrassed by how needy you sound.

He smirks, pleased in the knowledge that you may want him in any way shape or form.

“Why the hell are you still dressed up?” You suddenly ask him, confused by how much time has passed since he left the event.

“Had an after party I had to go to, just got back a little while ago.” He shrugs, his arms still wrapped around you.

“So why the hell were you trying to get me to come back with you if you had things you had to do?” You question him.

“If there was any chance in hell you would come back with me I was blowing that party off in a heartbeat, don’t care if I pissed anyone off. Haven’t seen you in ages, couldn’t let the chance slip.” He explains, looking you dead in the eye.

The thought that he would have rather spent his night with you than going out and networking makes your heart clench, it’s something your own boyfriend never would have done, evidently. His admission makes you throw caution to the wind, missing the feeling of being wanted, you pull the back of his neck so you can connect your lips to his. He seems almost surprised for a moment, not expecting anything to happen due to the state you had arrived in. He only hesitates for a moment before responding with full force, his lips fully claiming yours like they’ll never touch another set.

He groans into the kiss, the sound going to your core immediately, its always been one of your favorite sounds. You take your hands from around his neck, pawing at the button of his jacket, desperate to feel the smooth skin and hard muscle he has hidden underneath. The second his jacket is open, running your hands up his torso, reveling in the strength, your lips never parting from his. He pulls back slightly, a cocky smirk spread across his swollen lips, his hands firmly on your backside.

“What do you want, baby?” He questions, his tone knowing.

You whimper in response, trying to catch his lips again as you work to push the jacket off his shoulders.

“Words Y/N, you know that.” He reprimands you even though he is reaching behind himself to pull his jacket off, throwing it over the nearby chair.

“Fuck, I want you, please.” You whine out, annoyed you even have to ask. 

His hands come back to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as his lips drop to your neck, brushing over the skin as he speaks, “You want me to show you what you’ve been missing out on? Remind you how good I can make you feel?”

All you can do is nod as you brace yourself on his large biceps, a panted ‘yes’ falling from your lips. Within seconds his hands have fallen to your thighs, scooping you up to walk you towards the bed in the large suite. He drops you down on the bed, letting you bounce as he stares down at you with hungry eyes. The mood has shifted so drastically since you arrived, the whiplash is making your brain spin. Within moments he’s on you again, his lips hungry against yours as his large hand trails up under your sweatshirt. You wished you were wearing something cuter but the feeling of his hands on you threw every thought out the window. As his lips trailed down your neck you explored every inch of his muscular back under your palms, feeling the way the muscles flexed every time he adjusted his position. Wordlessly your sweatshirt was thrown up and over your head before his lips attached to your bare breast. The moan you let out was something you didn’t recognize from yourself anymore, a sound you hadn’t made since the last time you had him.

Over the course of your relationship with your boyfriend, sex had become more of a chore, something you knew you needed to do to keep the relationship working, it obviously didn't work. Your boyfriend tended to rush through things, chasing his own high with yours as more of an afterthought. Lewis however, he took his time with you, he always had, he would never be done until you were absolutely wrecked beneath him.

Lewis’s lips were trailing down your body, his tongue tracing every inch of skin it could reach. Hot, wet, sloppy kisses being left against every dip and curve of your figure. When he reached the waistline of your sweatpants, his eyes flicked up for a moment, locking with yours. There was a faint question in them and all you could do was nod, bucking your hips up towards him, urging him to take them off. 

“So eager.” Lewis just about chuckles, pulling down your pants and thong in one move.

You can’t help but squirm when his eyes lock onto your heat, staring at you like he’s going to destroy you. His large hand splays across your bare waist, keeping you in place as his other holds one of your thighs out to the side.

“Patience babe, don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.” His voice is teasing but you can hear the tension behind his words, he’s just as worked up as you are, the evidence is visible in his dress pants.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses along your hip, making his way further down slowly, much too slow for your liking.

“Lewis, please.” You whimper, hoping he will speed up the process and ease the ache between your legs.

He smirks, locking his eyes with yours as he latches his lips around your clit with no warning. You shriek, the sound turning into a guttural moan as his tongue laps over your nerves. You can feel the stubble of his beard on the inside of your thigh, his eyes still have left your face. You can feel the cocky smirk that spreads across his face as he lowers his face, lapping at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck baby, you really needed this didnt you?” He taunts you, breathless.

All you can do is whine his name as his skilled mouth returns to your core.

“God I missed you, always taste so fucking good.” He murmurs against you.

His tongue makes his way inside of you as his thumb comes to rub at your clit, making your back arch. Finally having him inside of you feels so good, but you need so much more and he knows it.

He pulls his mouth away, his thumb still tracing patterns across your nerves.

“Need you to come for me babygirl, could feel you clenching around my tongue, I know you’re close.” He’s out of breath and when you finally look at him you can see your arousal glistening on his lips.

You writhe on the bed as he presses a finger against your entrance, teasing the slightest bit of pressure before inserting the thick digit deep inside of you. His tongue comes down to replace his thumb against your clit as he slips another finger inside of you, massaging the spongy spot inside of you just right that you scream. The sound rips out of your body coming from deep in your throat as your pleasure courses through you. You can feel yourself soaking Lewis as he laps up your release, humming contentedly, like youre the best meal he’s ever had. You barely have the ability to push him away, too sensitive and he knows it, that cocky smirk plastered across his face as he finally sits back. You barely even register that he’s moved back over you until you feel his fingers on your bottom lip, your own pleasure covering them.

“Open up babygirl, need you to taste just how amazing you are.” His voice is soft yet strained as you let his fingers slip past your lips, swirling your tongue around them. He lets out a soft groan, his eyes locked on your mouth as you put on a little show for him, still half delirious. 

When he finally slips his fingers from your lips he trails them down your chin and across your chest, leaving a trail of moisture that makes you shiver.

“Think you can take more? Hmm?” His lips are near your ear, you can feel the hot air of his voice against your humid skin.

“Please, god please.” You beg him, desperate to feel him again after so long.

“Been dying to be inside of you since the second I saw you tonight.” He admits into the skin of your neck as he works on the button of his dress pants. You attempt to help but its useless, you’re a useless pile of mush at this point.

He moves himself to stand at the end of the bed, finally kicking off his pants before grasping himself in his large palm. Your lips part inadvertently at the sight in front of you. His bare chest is glistening with sweat, making his tattoos that much darker and showing off the prominent shape of his pecs, his tattooed bicep is flexing ever so slightly as he slowly strokes himself, his eyes wandering over your naked body. When you finally trail your eyes down, your breath hitches in your throat. You’ve been with him countless times, but nothing can ever prepare you for just how thick he is, just how long he is. He has a cock that most men would pay to have and he knows it. He notices your staring, one side of his mouth curving into a knowing smirk. You’re sitting up, crawling towards him mindlessly, desperately trying to get your hands on him. You don’t even have time to properly register it when all the sudden you're being picked up like a rag doll and maneuvered onto all fours in front of him. You’re not even sure how he did it, his strength and your delirium making everything happen so fast. Within moments you feel his body pressed up behind yours, his mouth coming down next to your cheek.

“Gonna make sure my girl knows that no one will ever make her come like I do, gonna have you screaming my name baby.” He whispers, his voice sounding like pure sex. Your stomach clenches when he calls you his girl.

You feel him lining himself up with your entrance and all you can do is whimper into the pillow below you. With one hand grasped around his cock and the other a bruising grip on your hip, he takes a second to tease you, giving you the slightest pressure at your aching hole before slipping out and thrusting forward to nudge your clit. He’s leaving you a whining mess before he’s even inside of you and he’s absolutely loving it. He stills momentarily, lined up with you again before thrusting into you all at once. The force makes all the air leave your lungs as you slump even further forward. You hear a loud groan leave his chest and you wish you could see him, see the ecstasy across his face. His large palm soothes down your spine before pushing down, making you arch your hips up toward him even more. He barely gives you a moment before he’s rocking his hips, your body still working to accommodate the size its gone so long without.

“Good girl, you can take it.” His voice is low, demanding yet endearing. He’s the one that taught you about your praise kink, always so vocal about how good you make him feel.

His pace slowly starts to build, his thrusts becoming harsher as he keeps pressure on your back, keeping you just how he wants you. You can feel yourself getting even wetter as you listen to the moans leaving his body, your own sounds being nothing but gasps and whines. He’s hitting the perfect spot, over and over, and you can feel your stomach start to tighten. Rarely have partners even been able to make you come with just penetration, but everything is different with Lewis, it always has been.

“Fuck, already?” Lewis asks, his voice sounding almost amazed from behind you, “Fuck babe, I can feel you clenching my cock already, you gonna come again? Gonna fucking soak me like a good girl?”

His pace picks up, determination behind each thrust as his grip on your hips becomes even tighter. His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge again, the sound of pure sex. He groans loudly as he feels you come around him, working you through it but collapsing over you. He lets your hips go and you're dropping down flat on the mattress as he continues to pound into you from above. You can hear the slick sounds of him fucking into you and it makes everything so much dirtier. You’re moaning his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever learned.

“That’s it baby, just like that.” He coaxes you through a groan.

He doesn’t let up, the new angle making your toes curl as his weight bares down on you. He has one hand on your hip once again while he leans on his forearm next to you. You feel him start to move himself up, hooking your legs over his hips, your back bending backwards for him. He slows his pace ever so slightly, adding more force behind every thrust, making you squeal and grab at the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, Lewis, I can’t, I-“ You whimper, too sensitive and too fucked out to properly string a sentence together.

“Yes you can baby, I know you can, go ahead and give me one more.” He soothes you, slapping your ass in contradiction to his kind tone.

You blindly reach your hand out behind you, wanting something to ground yourself on. He grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling out of you entirely. The sudden loss of contact leaves you confused before he’s flipping you onto your back, spreading your legs and sliding home once more. This time he grabs both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his as he braces them next to your head. His pace is still slow but unforgiving. His pupils are blown out and hooded as his eyes bore down into your own that are now teary.

“I got you, m’right here, let go, I know you can.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s trying to hold his own release off, desperate to feel you come again.

His lips attach to yours, sloppy and wet as he sucks on your tongue. One of his hands lets go of yours as he trails down to your cores, gently flicking at your nerves to feel you clench before settling on a relentless speed that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Say my name baby, tell me who’s making you feel this good.” His tone is possessive and cocky as he pulls away to stare at you, obsessed with your face as you climax.

You scream his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling like a tidal wave that has washed away anything but him and the ecstasy youre floating in. You hear him let out a deep guttural groan as his hips falter, trying so hard to fuck you through your own climax but the feeling of you squeezing around him is too much. You feel like you're floating when you feel him twitch inside of you, coming for longer than he ever has with you. You revel in it as he collapses down onto you, a comfortable crushing feeling that makes you never want to leave the bed.

You’re not sure how long you laid there, letting him pepper your neck with sloppy kisses as you tried to stroke his sweaty back, your efforts not the most successful as you felt like jello. You could feel the comforting feeling of him softening inside of you, still so big. You still didn’t feel like you were inside your own body when he finally pulled out and cleaned you up. It wasn’t until he was turning off the light and climbing into bed next to you, still naked, that you really felt human again. As he pulled you into his chest you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, knowing there was no good way for this to end. You were silent, nuzzling into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible.

“For the record, I meant what I said, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” Lewis says, tightening his arm around your waist.

You don’t respond, just press a kiss to his chest, enjoying the scent of him.

“I should know, I fumbled you pretty fucking hard.” He continues, much to your surprise.

You lift your head to look at him, shock written across your face.

“I’ve missed you.” He says, staring into your eyes in the dark room.

“I’ve missed you too.” You admit, laying your head back down to rest on his chest.

“I’ve got some other events to go to this week, come with me.” His words sound less like a question and more of a statement.

“Excuse me?” You look at him again, once again surprised.

“Come with me and let me show you off how you should be. I fucked up once, not doing it again.” His words are confident, sure of himself in every way.

You’re not sure how to respond, elated by the fact that this is exactly what you’ve wanted for so long, and terrified by the same thing. Words don’t come to you, all you can do is stretch up to kiss him, your mouths frantic against each others. His arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you up to lay on top of him, your legs falling around his waist. You kiss him mindlessly, brain dead at the feeling of his lips.

“Like I said, my girls gotta be taken care of.” He says against your lips as he moves you to slip himself inside of you once more.

As you slide down onto him once more, feeling him fill your heart and your core, you know no one else will ever be good enough for either of you again.

[cuubism]

Hope for the Future

~2k, Dreamling, 1589 era, post-Eleanor's death, dream conversations and revelations. cw death in childbirth

Dream and Hob meet at Eleanor's deathbed, in a fashion.

--

Ages ago I wrote Patron Saint, a fic about Hob's friendship with Death. For a while I wanted to write a companion piece from Dream's POV since Dreamling is a background ship in that fic but their trajectory is different from canon. But lbr it's been 2 years and I haven't done that-- early on, though, I did write one scene from Dream's POV because I wanted to flesh out a potential moment that Death mulls on in Patron Saint, when she was visiting Hob after Eleanor and the baby died:

“So many babies die,” Hob says. “Mothers, too, I—” he runs a hand through greasy, disheveled hair. “Do you think it will be better in the future? Because I haven’t seen that much improved. Not in my time.” “I imagine so, yes,” Death says. Dream would be able to answer this question for him better. Dream would be able to tell him what doctors might be imagining solutions to the problem, what midwives were dreaming of new ways to care for their charges. Hope for the future is Dream’s business, whether he accepts it or not. She wishes Dream were here. She has a strong feeling Hob would find even his stoic pretense at apathy comforting. Caring for others is strange like that.

Anyway I wanted that scene, I wrote that scene, I didn't write anything else to flesh out a companion piece but I think it stands on its own and can be understood even without reading the original fic.

--

Dream would assert that he did not care about Hob Gadling. He was not interested in Hob Gadling, beyond a passing curiosity in his approach to humanity, sated every hundred years. He was certainly not thinking about Hob Gadling, or his wife and small child and knighthood and other life goals he’d managed to accrue in this century. 

And yet, as he felt a particularly vicious nightmare go for Hob in his sleep, not long after their last meeting, he took note. 

He wasn’t sure why he took note. Perhaps because Hob had been on such a disgusting high last they’d met, it seemed strange for this to happen now. Perhaps because he knew this nightmare particularly well, had crafted it from deep in his own soul, as he so rarely did.

He followed the thread of the nightmare. 

Hob was running. Both from and after something at once. A darkness chased him. And another darkness retreated from him.

“Wait!” he yelled, reaching for it. Smoke slipped through his hands. Hob heaved for breath, stumbling to a stop as he ran out of air. He leaned on his knees, panting and coughing. “Wait,” he sobbed, but the darkness did not wait.

The other wave of darkness caught him, knocking him off his feet so he sprawled on the ground, hands scraping on the dirt. It didn’t attack him, just hovered over him like a blanket of fog, blocking the meager light. 

“You weren’t supposed to go,” Hob said into the darkness. It didn’t reply.

It was not an unreasonable nightmare for a father to have, Dream knew well enough. But the sharpness of those dark shadows – this nightmare was not pure fiction. It was drawing more from memory than he’d thought.

“Enough of this drama,” he commanded the nightmare. “Show me the truth of things.”

The scene of darkness faded to reveal an ordinary, if well-appointed bedroom. An air of sickness hovered, and death also – Dream could feel the echo of his sister near. 

A sickly woman, heavily pregnant, lay in the bed, and it was she that Dream knew was calling Death forth. She, and the tiny baby cradled in her womb, not quite ready to be born, and now would never be.

And Hob – not dying, he couldn’t, but he looked about as close to it as a man could come. Ashen, shaky, trembling.

“I love you,” he was saying, kissing Eleanor’s hand. “You know?”

This was still a dream, and this had all already occurred, Dream knew. There was nothing he could do here, not that he would. He turned to go, feeling stiff and cold in a way he decidedly did not like, when Hob looked up, and saw him.

Dream had not meant to be seen.

“My friend,” said Hob, surprise temporarily wiping the grief from his features. “You’re here.”

“I… am,” Dream conceded, and, drawn in despite himself, sat in a chair beside Hob. 

“I’m grateful for it,” said Hob. Dream didn’t know what he could possibly be providing that Hob was grateful for. Then, “There’s no hope, is there? I mean. I don’t know why I’d think you would know.”

Dream looked at the mother and baby before him. Hob had called him friend. A friend, he thought, would tell Hob that there was always hope. But that was not what Dream believed.

“I do not think so,” he said. “I am… sorry.”

Hob sighed. He was still holding Eleanor’s hand. “I have to tell you, I– whatever I might’ve said to you at our last meeting, I’m struggling to feel any of it right now.”

“That is understandable.” More understandable, Dream thought, than his declaration of Life is rich! that Dream had found so hard to swallow.

“I’ve known others who’ve lost wives, children,” Hob said, and Dream looked down. Hob would have no way of knowing who those others might have included. “But I guess I always thought, not me, never me, never my Eleanor. Not until she was old and gray, anyway. But I guess everyone thinks that, don’t they?”

“Perhaps.” Dream thought he himself had always known the cost would come due. Destiny might have said that was one of the reasons it did come due. You make your own end. But that would not help Hob.

“It’s got to get better,” Hob asserted. “It’s got to. It’s got to stop some day, doesn’t it? All these children, and mothers dying.”

The instinct to sneer at his optimism jumped up Dream’s throat, but he managed to bite it off. He did not want to be… cruel, he realized, to someone who was suffering. Especially within a dream; dreamers’ minds were not for him to subject to his own feelings.

“In Guangzhou,” he started slowly, the dreams coming to him like a light rainfall, “there is a doctor who has just crafted a new medicine to ease pain during childbirth. She has been dreaming of it for years. In Oyo, a healer is learning to tell earlier and earlier when a pregnancy is troubled, that they might intervene in time. A few months more, and they will have it. And down the street, here in London, a midwife is just planting the seeds for the hospital she will open to help unwed mothers with nowhere to turn.”

Hob stared at him. He seemed to be holding his breath.

“Dreamers abound,” Dream said, “but it takes time for their work to come to fruition.”

Hob continued to watch him. Something shifted in his eyes, as he looked at Dream. Dream wasn’t certain he liked it. 

“You know everything, don’t you?” Hob said.

“Not everything.”

“You know all of that,” Hob mused, “all these things that are happening. And… you still come to ask me if I wish to live?”

Dream bristled, and Hob raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind, never mind, forget I said anything. You’re entitled to your own feelings on the matter. Thank you, for those stories. It helps. Truly. And I’m glad that I’ll get to see it. One day.”

“‘One day,’” Dream echoed. “‘One day’ is a time when no children die and no famine walks the earth, when soldiers break their swords before the fight, and later bread with their enemies. One day is always one step into the future, Hob Gadling. Ever-moving.”

“Aye,” said Hob. “That’s the point.” 

Dream frowned. What pleasure could be derived from wanting and wanting, and never having, he could not fathom. He had crafted nightmares thus. What hope to find in hope itself continually being dashed?

“I look forward to seeing you every century, you know that?” Hob added. “No matter what else happens. Bad days, or good ones.”

Dream kept frowning, unsure of the connection.

“It’s important to have those things,” Hob said. He squeezed Eleanor’s still hand. “Even now. Especially now.” 

In Dream’s own… aftermath… he could not imagine finding comfort in anything. What help could some nebulous future date possibly be?

“If that is what helps you,” he said. 

Hob cast him a look like he just knew that Dream didn’t get it, and it rankled. But there was no true criticism in that look. Hob looked at him with an unfathomable fondness, always.

He turned back to Eleanor, just gazing at her face with an expression Dream found difficult to witness in its softness. Were this the waking world, she would have certainly passed by now. But moments could freeze indefinitely in the Dreaming.

“Do you think I’ll forget her?” Hob asked quietly, still looking at his wife. “The details of her face, I mean? Her voice? What she smelled like? My memory’s far from perfect, and there’s a lot of time for it to fade.”

Dream knew without having to actively make the vow to himself that he would be sending frequent dreams Hob’s way to ensure he did not. He should not do so. He should not interfere. 

But.

“There are some things one does not forget,” he said.

Hob swiped at his eyes. He was crying now. “S’pose you’re right.”

If Dream was any sort of friend – and he was not sure that he was, though Hob had declared him so – he would end this dream now and spare Hob any further torment of reliving this memory. 

Instead, he sat beside him, far longer than he intended. Sat in silence, listened to Hob’s breaths, his sniffles as he cried, the subtle movements of continued life. He stayed in this sea of human endings and sickness and grief. With Hob. Something unnameable sitting heavier and heavier within him. And more than once he told himself to rise and to end the dream, and he did not. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Hob finally said, when much time had passed and they still sat side-by-side. And it was this that finally reminded Dream that he should not be.

“I should leave you,” he said, standing abruptly. “This dream is–”

“Wait.” Hob took his hand. Dream should– Dream should yank it away in offense. He should take his leave of Hob instantly for the familiarity, the daring. 

He did not. He merely stood frozen as Hob pressed his hand between both of his own. His touch was very warm.

“Keep all those things in mind,” Hob said. His eyes still glittered with tears, but his words were steady. “Those infinite things you know about the world. Wherever you’re going.”

“I have much in mind at all times,” Dream told him. Hob had no idea how much. 

Hob smiled at him sadly. “I’m sure. Just think about it, okay? Those doctors in those faraway places. Alright?”

Dream studied him, but gleaned no additional information from it. “Very well,” he said at last.

Hob squeezed his hand once more, then let him go.

A friend might comfort him again, in these circumstances. But Dream was not certain it was necessary. He could see in Hob, even now, the spine of a man who would not break, even when he was so far down.

It was… curious.

Hob bid him farewell, eyes just crinkling at the corners. “Until we meet again, dear stranger.”

Dream stepped back into the comforting arms of the Dreaming proper, discomfited by the moment in a way he could not quite pin down, and by his own willingness to stay and engage in it at all. To involve himself in Hob’s life in a way he had not intended. 

“Until then, Hob Gadling,” he said, letting the scene dissolve around them, “this dream is over.”

[catt-leya]

07/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: angsty (reader getting stabbed), blood, handjob, age gap, dirty talk, crying Rick and smutty stuff

💗 This fic is a second part but it's not "necessary" to know the first one. That's why it's called Thoughts and not mainly Dirty Pt.2 (together it would be Dirty Thoughts hihi)💗

request, part I

Before you can even say a word, you notice how he closes up again. You notice him stiffening between your legs before he takes a big step backwards.

Without his body heat, the room is far too cold and you stare at him with huge eyes, "Rick?"

Stripped bare, you sit in front of him and ice chills run down his spine.

Fucking hell, he can't bring himself to do that. 

Fucking you is one thing, admittedly completely morally reprehensible, but still explainable. But falling in love with you a completely different.

An old guy who likes to be in a 22 year old pussy is sick, but maybe still understandable. 

But loving a 22 year old completely inappropriate.

He shouldn't have done that. He's the older one and should have brought you to your senses and not given in to your first touch.

You would never let a guy like him screw you if you had a choice. 

He's sure of that.

And now he's standing here, staring at his cum slowly dripping out of you, knowing he's going to hell for this.

Rick takes another step back and he feels like he hit you. 

Like he rammed his fist right into your face.

He bends over and yanks his pants up over his ass like the little room is on fire.

Almost in a panic, he yanks the door open behind him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in the room.

Alone.

The feeling of being abandoned in this way is beyond description.

For a few minutes you are not even able to move an inch.

Stunned, you sit there thinking about what just happened.

Sure, you kind of seduced him, but he wanted you.

Again and again his words flit through your mind and you wonder at what point he had decided to leave you lying there like a piece of used meat.

"Spread your legs for me."

"That's good. Your pussy is so wet and all this just for me."

"I want you to cum on my cock. That's why I stopped."

"Do you realize how deep I am inside you. I'd love to stay right there forever."

Tears well up in your eyes.

It's not like you were expecting a declaration of love or anything like that. You're sure that for Rick, it was nothing more than physical attraction that led him to fuck you in the end. 

But you expected a modicum of respect.

At least to be treated with respect to the extent that he doesn't run away from you while his cum is still leaking out of you and you're sitting trembling in front of him.

Slowly, you stand on your feet and reach for your clothes.

You move as if in a trance and as you open the door and blink, looking into the sun, the only evidence that the whole thing with Rick really happened is your sticky legs.

Used and discarded.

That's how you feel and that feeling isn't going away anytime soon, especially since you really like Rick. 

Yes, crushing on him.

Two weeks go by in which you hardly get to see Rick. 

In which he avoids you at every opportunity.

If anyone around you notices, no one brings it up and you don't say a word about it either.

It's weird because you guys have always been relatively close and now he can't even look at you.

You should be mad and wish him the worst, but every time you catch a glimpse of his dark curls, your heart stops for a brief moment and you have to restrain yourself from running after him.

Even now, you scan the place for him, even though you should already be sitting in the car next to Glenn.

From the second floor window of the jail, Rick watches you walk around the car and get in on the passenger side.

One last time, you lift your head and look straight up at him. 

It's as if you've felt his gaze on you.

Hectically, he takes a step back and leans his back against the wall.

With closed eyes he stands there and doesn't get your gorgeous face out of his eyes. 

Your face that was still beautiful even when you looked at him with tears in your eyes as he forcibly pulled up his pants.

If he was a good man, he would tell you the truth. 

Oh fuck, if he was a good man, he wouldn't have fucked you in the first place.

But he's scared, way too scared of what might happen and some stupid part in his heart might have that little bit of hope that you might want him as much as he wants you. 

He's acting ridiculous and he knows it, but he's not a good man.

As planned, you and your people search the small abandoned town you just discovered the other day and find a surprising amount of stuff, considering the town was looted long ago.

You wander from house to house and in a small room overlooking the surrounding forest you stop.

The house is gorgeous and you can imagine how a small family must have lived in this pretty place.

Maybe they are still alive too, who knows.

You run the flat of your hand over the dusty windowsill and stare at the little specks of dust that you swirl into the air, not noticing at all that you are no longer alone in the house.

Your people are a few houses away and you have remained alone in the house, as you assumed, but when you suddenly hear strange voices downstairs, you flinch.

You quickly look around. 

You can't get out of the window without breaking every bone in your body, and the only other way out is blocked by the people downstairs.

So it's a choice between broken bones and possible direct death.

You choose the broken bones.

As quietly as you can, you pry open the window and hear a deep male voice from below, "I'll check upstairs."

Now you're getting frantic, you may only have a few seconds before the guy comes up the stairs and looks straight into the room where you're standing.

You shoulder your backpack and there's the guy standing in the room, "Hey, guys. Here's a chick."

He wants to reach for you, but you're already hanging on the other side of the window with one leg. 

But before you can swing the other leg to the other side as well, he grabs your lower leg and you stagger your upper body further out the window.

Pure will to survive shoots through your veins as he hisses, "Come on, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

You kick at him, not caring that you'd land head first on the ground, but the guy doesn't let go and pulls a knife from his pants with his free hand.

You scream out as a second guy appears in the room and you kick again. 

You're lucky he lets go of you this time, but with his other hand, he tries to grab you again and rams the knife into your thigh.

Blood splatters your face and the guy's hand slips off.

You don't even have the chance to scream, because you already fall.

You are lucky that you landed in a bush and only got a few scratches from the fall.

Limping you get up and hear the men shouting something, you run as fast as you can in the direction of your companions.

The fall has ripped the knife out of your thigh and now the blood is running unhindered down your leg, praying that the guy didn't nick any major artery.

You're not fast, but fast enough to reach your group and you gasp, "Another group...two men...knife."

Arm dragging, the others pull you to your car and all you hear is, "It's going to be okay," before you black out.

Rick is helping with the new posts for the fence when he sees your car.

Even from a distance he can see that something is wrong. 

You're speeding toward the fence way too fast.

"Maggie! Open the gate!", Rick's voice echoes across the yard and Maggie, standing closest to the gate, does as he asks.

With screeching tires, the car comes to a stop and the driver gets out, panicked and covered in blood.

Immediately Rick thinks the worst, "What happened? Where is she?"

'She' could have been anyone, but everyone knows who Rick means.

The door to the back seat opens and Rick hears your faint voice, "I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep."

The whole car smells of the iron in your blood and in his whole life he has never had such a panic as the moment he gets to see your pale face.

Immediately he pushes everyone aside and somehow squeezes his big body into the car without hurting you.

"Baby?", pure panic drips from that single word and you smile weakly at him, "Oh, so I have to be stabbed first for you to talk to me again?"

You lazily close your eyes and immediately his rough hand is on your cheek, "Don't fall asleep, yes? You have to stay awake."

"I'm so tired though," you don't even realize how weak your voice is, but Rick is almost cracking up, "Baby, look at me. I know you're tired, but please look at me."

It's exhausting to keep your eyes open, but you oblige, whereupon he reaches under your legs and mutters, "Just look at me, okay? We'll patch you up."

Slowly he lifts you out of the car and you mumble, "Are you going to stay with me this time or are you going to leave me alone again?"

A twinge of guilty conscience presses against his heart and he whispers softly, "I'll never leave you alone again," and he is completely serious.

He expects an answer, but nothing more comes from you and when he gets out of the car with you in his arms, your eyes are closed.

"Baby?" his voice whips up to unimagined heights and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

No.

Oh no.

Please don't.

He has no idea if you're even still breathing.

If he looked closely he would see your chest rising and falling but naked panic and fear pumps through his veins and he runs to jail with you in his arms, "Hershel!"

The older man is on the spot and with just a glance at the nearly motionless figure in Rick's arms he shouts, "Put her on your bed!"

The blood from your leg soaks his shirt and as he places you on his bed, his shirt sticks to him like a second skin.

As Hershel comes rushing into the small room, Rick makes as much room for him as the older man needs without leaving your side.

At the head of the bed, Rick kneels down and brushes a few sweaty strands from your face.

"Is she dead?", Rick's voice breaks and Hershel growls, "Calm down, son. She's just passed out."

Immediately Rick fixes his gaze on your chest and for the first time he doesn't look at it suggestively, but waits for the faint breath that lifts your pretty boobs.

When he sees with his own eyes that you're actually breathing, he rests his forehead against yours, gasping, and murmurs, "Oh my God. You're alive. You're alive and you're with me. You're alive."

He would never have forgiven himself if you died and your last memory of him was that he left you alone and vulnerable. 

He never would have forgiven himself if he never told you the truth.

Rick presses his face against your neck so that his nose presses against your pulse and murmurs in a choked voice, "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I promise I'll never leave you again. I love you so much. I love you."

"Rick?", Hershel's voice is soft, "You should tell her that when she regains consciousness."

Face still buried in your neck, he can't hold back the tears and while Hershel saves your life, Rick cries like he never has before.

Groaning softly, you open your eyes and try to adjust to the light conditions.

You're in prison but don't remember how you got here. 

Darkly you remember Rick begging you to look at him and the rest is completely gone.

Lazily, you try to turn onto your side, but bump into something.

Confused, you turn your eyes to your hip and blink several times, thinking it's a dream.

Completely drenched in blood, Rick is sitting on the floor next to the bed you're lying in, his head resting on the mattress next to your hip.

His soft snores fill the small room and you wonder how long you've been unconscious.

"Rick?" your voice is raspy, but immediately Rick startles out of his sleep and stares at you, "You're awake."

Groaning, you frown, "Obviously, or I wouldn't have woken you up after all."

Sliding up to you on his knees, he murmurs softly, "Doesn't have to mean anything. You kept calling my name all night, but you were never awake."

Grumbling, you close your eyes and Rick reaches for your hand, "How are you?"

It's strange to see Rick so interested in you, and the way he clings to your hand feels like he's expecting you to get up and just disappear at any second.

"I feel like my leg was put through a meat grinder, but other than that, everything's top notch," you lazily open your eyes and Rick nods, "Okay, I'll get Hershel."

He stands up, but you squeeze his hand so tightly that he stops beside you, "Wait a bit. I want to be...alone with you."

Slowly, he kneels back down beside you and murmurs, "That can wait."

You roll your eyes and mumble, "No, it can't, because I don't know if you'll slip away and I'll never get to see you again."

Under his lashes, he looks at you, "I'm not leaving. Ever again."

Surprised, your eyebrows twitch up, "Oh yeah? Where'd that change of heart come from? Do I have to almost bleed to death for you to realize it was shitty of you to just leave me sitting there after you had your dick up to your balls in me?"

Rick winces like you hit him and in a perverse way it feels good. 

It feels good that you can hurt him, too.

He doesn't even dare look you in the face as he whispers, "I'm sorry. There were so many different ways to handle the situation and I chose the asshole version."

Now you have his apology, but you still feel so hollow.

Not expecting anything more, you let go of his hand and nod, "Okay, thanks."

He wanted your young body, you're sure of it, and he got it.

That's all it is, and that's all it will ever be.

"Go get Hershel," at your words he looks up and stares at you like you asked for the moon.

You don't care that he admits to being with you all night. 

You don't care that he called you baby at one point, and you don't care that you'll never be anything more than a nice pussy to fuck. 

At least that's what you tell yourself.

A few seconds pass with no one stirring until Rick murmurs, "If you think it's disgusting or perverted, tell me and I'll shut up and never speak of it again."

"What?" you have no idea what he's talking about, but he slumps down and whispers, "I love you."

The silence is oppressive.

You're not even breathing anymore.

Apologetically, he looks at you with his pretty blue eyes, "I love you. I know it's sick and I'm sorry. You don't have much choice when it comes to sex and probably between all the others, I'm the best choice because you've known me the longest. I don't know. But I do know that I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. I mean, I've been thinking about fucking you forever. Way before that incident two weeks ago and even then I had a little crush on you. But finally holding you in my arms was…I was cracking up because I realized that I love you. With all my heart. And I felt like a pervert and then I acted like an ass. Then I held you bleeding in my arms and thought you were going to die thinking that I treated you like shit and not knowing how I felt about you, so I'm telling you now. I love you."

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then you lean forward, and Rick flinches as you place your lips on his.

For a brief moment, he stiffens again before leaning in toward you to put more pressure into the kiss.

You can practically taste the fear he had for you on his tongue and move a little closer to him.

Half erect, your torso brushes his and immediately he releases the kiss, "You should rest, baby."

The endearment, makes your cheeks warm and your lips brush his graying beard, "Hmhm."

Even dirty and sweaty, he smells so incredibly good that you press your nose against his neck and your heart does a somersault because he doesn't pull away from you and instead murmurs, "Baby, please."

Your leg screaming in pain completely fades into the background as you start sucking on his neck.

Rick flinches and digs his fingers into the edge of the mattress you're lying on.

Damn, you know exactly what you're doing and you should take it easy, especially since you weren't even conscious a few minutes ago.

As you bite into his neck, he squints his eyes and tries one more time, "Baby-"

"You know, I haven't been completely honest with you either," your voice is muffled and he only manages a soft "Huh?".

You press your mouth to his jaw, "I told you I was attracted to you because you're so manly."

He tilts his head to the side a little so you have better access.

"Were you just trying to boost my ego and actually think I'm a wimp?" his voice has dropped an octave and you suppress a whimper at the harsh tone in it.

How can it be that he doesn't know the impact he has on you? 

How easily he can make you drool.

Gently, you lick over the new glowing spot on his neck, then whisper, "No, that was the truth. But it's not the only reason I'm so attracted to you."

You move away from him a bit and blink up at him, "You're good. You're a good man and your heart is in the right place. I don't care how old you are, and in a way, maybe your age turns me on a little bit, if I'm being honest. But I didn't want you just for sex and certainly you weren't one choice out of many. In fact, you have no competition at all because you were all I ever wanted. Always."

You bite your lower lip, "You know, I've had a head over heels crush on you forever. I...well I didn't think you could even like me like that."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head and you smile shyly at him, "Well, what I'm saying is that I love you too, Rick."

Blush stains your cheeks and only makes you more gorgeous.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

Without thinking, he presses his lips to yours again and you moan in surprise into the kiss.

Gently, he straightens up a bit and presses you back into your pillow this way.

His beard scratches over your soft skin and you lift your hands to his cheeks to stroke the stubble.

He runs his tongue over your lower lip, "Should I shave my beard?"

He always had to do it with Lori because she had hated the way the stubble felt on her skin. 

After that stopped being an issue, though, he let it grow.

But if you asked him to, he would still get a razor today just so he could keep kissing you.

What he didn't count on, though, is your soft laugh, "It doesn't bother me, Rick."

You tug on his beard, "Besides, it suits you."

Somehow you like the way the stubble feels against your skin.

Especially at the thought of how they would feel between your legs.

Rick's gaze softens and he leans further over you, nudging your leg a little, and you wince.

"Sorry, baby. I'll get Hersehl right now," chuckling, you stop him, "Relax. If I don't move it, it'll be fine."

Skeptically, he looks at you and you slide a hand to his belt, murmuring softly, "If you don't touch me, we'll be fine."

"You don't have to do this," he says, but in his eyes you see once again how much he wants to.

That's the interesting thing about Rick. 

He can make his voice sound cold and impassive and look like he's about to rip your head off, but his eyes give him away.

Every time.

Because they're so bright, they also stand out so incredibly and it's playfully easy to read him in them.

Slowly you undo his belt and he doesn't budge an inch as you breathe, "I want to."

Hectically, his gaze slides to your bandaged leg and you purr, "Just relax. Think of it as a reward for taking such good care of me."

"Okay," his voice is soft and uncertain. 

Frantically, you try to suppress a grin because it's so unlike him, "Stand up."

Immediately he looks you in the face again, sure you've changed your mind and want him to go get Hershel after all, but you whisper hoarsely, "If you stand, I can get to your cock better lying down."

He swallows a whimper.

When did he become such a wimp?

But your wide eyes and soft hand stroking his lower belly make him tremble and he nods.

With soft knees he straightens up to his full height and immediately you pull his pants down enough to get at his cock.

This innocent touch makes him moan harshly and he clings to the bed frame of the bunk bed.

Your eyes are glued to his upper arms, where his biceps now bulge strongly, and you whisper, "Say it again."

Rick looks first to your hand around his cock and then back to your face, "I love you."

You stroke his hardening cock and he moans, "Oh God, I love you so much."

He thrusts his hips at you and you just can't take your eyes off his face, not when he opens his blue eyes and looks at you like you're everything to him. 

Maybe you even are, "I love you so much."

When he fucked you, you were so distracted by your pulsing pussy that you barely paid attention to how gorgeous Rick looks as his whole body shakes and he squints his eyes as if by willpower alone he won't manage to cum in your hand right now.

How could he behave at you any other way when you're lying in front of him, practically begging to jerk him off?

You try to straighten up a bit so you can breathe a kiss on the tip of his cock, and the way he flinches at the brief contact of your lips is enough amends for the stinging pain that emanates from your leg as you move.

Briefly, you think about what would happen if Rick were too loud. 

If someone came into the small cell while you lay flat on the bed and Rick towered over you, fucking your hand.

The thought makes you whimper softly, "Fuck me."

As you expected, he shakes his head, "No, baby. You wanted my cock so jerk me off and I'll fuck you as soon as I can push your legs apart again."

Your grip tightens and you whimper softly, "Please don't talk like that."

Irritated, he frowns and when he sees you slide your free hand between your legs, he grunts, "It turns you on, right?"

Hesitantly, you nod and he grins at you, "Then keep your hands off yourself, baby."

Your hand freezes in mid-motion and Rick continues to fuck your hand, "Good girl. Imagine all the things I'm going to do to you because you're finally mine."

You moan softly, "Rick, please..."

"Shhhh, just jerk me off, baby," he teases you and you know it.

His cock is hard and swollen in your small hand and every time you graze his tip it twitches in your hand.

His knuckles stand out white and he moans harshly, "Where do you want it?"

Greedily you open your mouth and he growls, "Shit you're dirty."

He pushes your hand aside and aims for your wide open mouth as he rubs his shaft and he rests his forehead against his forearm to look down at you as he cums.

Some of his cum hits your mouth and the rest runs down your cheek.

You swallow what he gives you and gather up the rest from your cheek to put your finger in your mouth and suck his cum from your finger.

With his mouth open, he stares down at you.

You are perfect.

In every way, shape, and form.

With a 'plop' you pull your finger on your mouth as you hear Hershel's voice from outside, "Are you done?"

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

[alottiegoingon]

hc! first date & movie nights with van

van palmer x fem!reader

summary: first date with van and my personal movie related headcanons!!

pls let me know if i made a mistake, it's my first time writing for a non binary character and i dont wanna mess it up <3

warnings: van is non binary!!, established relationship and marriage (you lucky bastard), slightly domestic life at the end, cursing, no crash but huh..., reader and van being two awkward idiots at first, spoilers of movies i guess?, all the girls are friends, fluff, english mistakes and not proofread

- of course that your first date with van consisted in going out for movies and you were both SO excited!!

- you knew that van had a tough relationship with their mom and instead of going to their house to pick them up, they showed up at your door wearing a blue windbreaker jacket over a striped shirt and brown cargo pants, holding a vhs with a collection of vhs with movies that reminded them of you <33

- safe to say that you were both sweating like crazy and giving each other awkward smiles or saying nonsense just to fill the silence

- sometimes you or van would say the stupid shit ever. while waiting in line for tickets, a bunch of teenage boys walked by you carring footballs and van said "boys always have balls with them, don't they?"

- "what?" you ask, pursing your lips to avoid laughing like crazy

- "nothing."

- van would always be willing to have the entire movie theater experience and i think they would be happy to buy some popcorn and a lot of sweets if you liked it. but ever since their teenage years to adulthood, in movies like a quiet place, they would buy absolutely no food to avoid noises and would give people the death stare because they were chewing too loud (so right)

- either way, van wanted everything to be special and didn’t want to sound like a movie freak. surprisingly, this once the movie didn’t matter. it wasn’t the main attraction. you were.

- you chose primal fear with richard gere, trying your best to impress them. besides it was a crime thriller movie thing and if you ever get scared, you could ‘innocently’ hold their hand for reassurance

- obviously, van guessed the plot halfway the movie but didn't want to ruin it for you. in the last 30 minutes of the movie, you look at them with an invested look, whispering "i bet that aaron is a liar, he acts too innocent!" while nervously shoving more popcorn into your mouth

- van already knew that. but seeing you so focused on something they loved so much and actually excited about it made their heart melt "what? no way!" they try to sound surprised and do their best to pretend that they don't believe your theory.

- (they were so proud!!)

- "i can't believe you didn't saw that coming! it was so obvious, van!" you tease them as soon as you left the room, non-stop talking about the movie

- "shut up." but they didn't mean it. they were happily listening to your words and smiling the entire time, not being able to look away from you :(

- you and van went out for a milkshake after the movies and were discussing that first scene of scream where casey's boyfriend is tied up on a chair by ghostface. "that poot guy didn't even stand a chance!" you excitedly say as you sip on your chocolate milkshake. "it must be an awful day to die."

- "maybe you should tie me up!" van mutters with a sly smirk, knowing too well that it would made you blush

- you gasp, jaw dropped and pinkish cheeks while you tried to cover their mouth by leaning yourself from across the table

- standing in the porch of your house, van had their hands on your waist and your palms touch their face while you share your first kiss. you were both really nervous but their lips were so soft that you immediately felt relaxed. you could even taste the strawberry.

- when van and the girls would watch movies together, van would always beg to be the one to pick and make sure that it was the perfect choice. of course that perfect meant something longer than 2 hours and with a lot of social commentary or something considered weird. in horror, thriller or serial killer movies like scream, van and misty would be detective partners together and would probably figure what was going on in ten minutes and ruin it for everyone else

- (deeply believe that van would love the lobster in 2015 and would be happy to explain to you all of their theories or techniques used in the movie and why is it so good even though you were suspicious that they only watched it because of rachel weisz. you wouldn’t understand much but were always happy to hear your spouse talk about things they loved)

- that doesn’t mean that they don’t like some cheesy romcoms or something silly like but i’m a cheerleader or the duff. they were SO obsessed with biac when it came out and couldn’t stop talking about it for MONTHS!!

- “shit, shauna! that girl looks exactly like you!” nat gasped when all the girls decided to watch the movie with van knowing how much they liked it and how good it was for lesbians at the time. shauna rolled her eyes while everyone was laughing and chattering about how she was hilary’s lost twin or something

- “come on, you gotta choose!”when they finally agreed to watch the entire twilight saga, that was your first question as soon as the screen of your tv turned black. they had to choose between jacob or edward and you wouldn’t take no for an answer

- “are you serious? those movies are ridiculous! they are so unrealistic and stereotyped.” van adds, slouched on the couch. "and that weird baby looks exactly like rosemary's baby!"

- you and van lived together after getting married, duh, and every friday was considered movie night. van would close the video store earlier and you would run to the couch with big buckets of popcorn and cozy blankets

- “i know…” you can't help but giggle at the thought of that weird thing they used for renesmee. you also knew that your partner was right. but still, you needed an answer. you had spent hours of your day watching all of that nonsense and what hurt would do if they chose a side?

- “ok, fine.” they groan, wanting to make you happy despite all of their hate for those movies. “edward.”

- “yeah!” you celebrate van's choice, grabbing a bunch of popcorn with your hands. “i hate jacob, he’s so manipulative!” you add

- “okay, okay. don’t get all excited.” van gives you a death stare but you know that they don’t mean it when their lips are begging to curl up in a smile when seeing you excited. t hey disliked the movies, sure, but even though the movies and books were terrible van would always be happy to be near you all the time even if it meant to watch those stupid things.

- "that plot twist in the last movie was good. i'll give you that." and you smile at their attempt to compliment the movie and make you happy

- “but i don’t care about edward. i just don’t like wolves.” van shruggs and you look at themwith furrowed eyebrows. “what? why?”

- “i just have a bad feeling about them!” and you laugh.

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

Hiii, I read your story about lovesick steve flirting with reader and it’s literally the cutest thing ever I’m so in love with that man

I wanted to ask you if you could write something based on the last line where you say he would never do anything sexual, you had to ask for it, and r is like trying to get there but she’s to shy to say it out loud and steve it’s like “don’t mix a make out session with sex” so he always stop himself and she’s like ☹️ thinking he doesn’t wanna have sex with him, some hurt/ comfort please

of course only if you want, if not it’s really good, just to let you know those headcanons were amazing

oh my gosh thank you so much, im so happy you liked it. i love this concept bc it hits a little too close to home. but here we go <3

warnings: insecurity, mentions of steve in hs, steve's trauma, heavily mentioned sex and intimacy but no actual smut, fluffy fluff, not proofread

also: lmk if you guys want a part 2 to this <3

its half past nine and you're on steve's couch, more specifically, you're on steve. your legs are on either side of him, your knees touching the couch cushions behind him. mouthing at each other hungrily, with an intensity that made your heads fuzzy.

before he picked you up, you decided on a pretty dress to wear. your lace bralette peaking out the top in a way you knew he wouldn't be able to resist. framing your breasts perfectly, propped up just for him to see. makeup perfect. begging to be touched. begging to be loved.

but steve had picked you up, meeting your eyes first before scanning the rest of your body. his eyes got caught up a few times, but they quickly made their way back to your face. he told you you looked gorgeous. on the way to his house, he kissed your hands and sang to you. you love how gentlemanly he is. you really do, but god if you didn't want him to be unable to resist you.

and he couldn't. every time you looked away he would stare at you, letting his mind wander about what was under that pretty dress. how your lipgloss would look smeared across his chest. how your mascara would look smudged and looking up at him. how your mouth would look wrapped around him.

but he told himself as soon as you started dating that he wouldn't fuck this up. he knew that you needed a month or two before you could feel comfortable having sex with him, and he was more than content with that. he knew you were shy and delicate, and that you were scared because of his past hookups in high school. he knew he was a lot more experienced than you, and he wanted you to be completely comfortable and safe giving yourself to him. but with his knowledge of your shyness, it was baffling to you how he wouldn't realize that you couldn't just ask for him to have sex with you. you can barely order for yourself at restaurants.

which leads you back to where you are now. panting against his mouth, his hands on your hips while the credits for the princess bride played in the background. his hands moving up and down your back. yet, never touching the hem of your dress. never pulling you to sit on his achingly hard cock. no, he keeps it very tame. as always. and as you notice this, your mind can't help but wander.

you know he has had sex. in fact, you knew he has had a lot of sex. you had heard about it in passing comments about his high school days, minus his senior year, which he spent mostly moping. but he had never ever brought it up to you. he'd actually give robin and eddie a very scary look whenever they made a dumb joke about it. glaring at them and pulling you closer to his side to plant a kiss on your forehead. he knew it could make you insecure, and it shouldn't. his high school adventures were a failed attempt at emotional intimacy, which is much more embarrassing for him than it is for anything else. he had sex because he was good at it, and he'd get praised by not only girls but everyone around him. he didn't have good grades, and he wasn't the smartest, but he was athletic, good-looking, charming, and knew his way around the female anatomy. which is more than can be said for the rest of the male population in hawkins. but once he had had sex with someone, his self-esteem never failed to remind him that that was all he was good at. nobody actually wanted him. just wanted him to see what the hype was about, and occasionally come back for more. he had always kept civil with the girls he had slept with, giving them a small smile and a wave when confronted with one. he knew it wasn't their fault. it was his never-ending search for validation that he had never gotten as a child. he realized this while he was working at the mall with robin. but he had worked on himself. he had gotten help, he processed it. because he knew he couldn't be loved if he had little to no respect for himself. and after that, sex wasn't nearly as important as it used to be. he didn't even want it with anyone he wasn't in love with. but he is in love with you, so, of course, he wanted to have sex with you, like- a lot. but you didn't know that.

why wasn't he touching you? did you do something wrong? what made you so different from the other girls? were you not good enough? did he think you couldn't? are you embarrassing yourself? did he think you didn't want it? does he not want it?

he noticed you crying before you did, felt your tears hit his cheeks, and jumped into action immediately. picking you up and placing you next to him on the couch. the tears fell harder. his left-hand holds your own, and his right is rubbing soothing circles into your cheek.

"hey, im sorry, im sorry baby, its okay, im sorry." he apologizes, panicking that he had made you upset. apologizing for taking it too far. not knowing you're upset because he's not taking it far enough.

you put your head in your hands and attempt to stop the racing thoughts in your head. "steve, why are you sorry?" your voice is shaking, racked with guilt that he's being so kind to you.

"because baby, I just got carried away. I didn't mean to upset you, honey. you never have to do anything you don't want to. if you told me I could never touch you, I would still love you the same. im sorry that I made you sad, darling."

you peeked at him through your fingers, he looked so panicked that you just had to take his hand off your lap to kiss it. you giggled at the irony of the situation. he was scared he took things too far, and you were scared because he hadn't taken things far enough. your soft giggles only made him more confused, thinking maybe you hit your head. why would you be laughing at that? he lifted his hand to your forehead to check for a fever but found nothing.

"baby, what is happening?" he said so desperately that you had to laugh.

"i love you so much steve, thats not why im crying."

"then whats wrong, sweetheart?" his voice is gentle as he caresses the skin on your palm.

oh no. now you'd actually have to tell him whats wrong. you'd have to admit that you're scared he doesn't want to have sex with you. you have to ask him why he hasn't had sex with you. he's going to know how insecure you are about his past, but not in the way you'd think. not scared of the women, or the strength of your relationship, but of your own attractiveness and ability to please him. all you wanted was for him to take care of you. touch you in all the nicest places that you knew he could reach.

"i-" your voice cut off, you looked away. his hand moved your jaw back in place to look at him. which turned you on so much the tears started forming again.

"honey please, tell me what's wrong." you looked up at him because you could feel his voice breaking. and you were not about to make your boy cry. you spoke instantly. the need to make him feel better outweighing the embarrassment by a long shot.

"im scared you dont want to have sex with me." you blurt out before your brain can stop you. the look on his face is comical, the confusion mixing with shock. "-i- I just. i know you've done it with girls before but you never try it with me and its really sweet that you remember that i told you i wouldn't be able to do it at first but i am ready now and i- i want it a lot. and im worried that im not pretty enough or that you arent attracted to me at all. and im sorry." the last apology came out as more of a whimper as you brought your head down to your folded knees and tried to calm down. sniffling and wiping your tears as best you could. but now it was steve's turn to laugh.

"that's what you're worried about? oh baby..." he pulled you back into his arms and stared at you. he was giggling like a child that had just learned about knock-knock jokes. "that's crazy, you know that? that's insane baby. honey, you make me crazy. there's like barely a second of the day that im not thinking about ripping your clothes off. eddie and robin bully me all the time for it. did you not notice how many times I had to go home throughout our friendship? how before we even started dating I would suddenly have work to do whenever you came out for movie night bra-less in those little shorts? seriously, I mean- what do you think I did when I got home, baby? " at this point you're both laughing and blushing profusely. steve didn't ever think he would have to disclose to you how many times he has to come home and fist his cock at the thought of you, but apparently, you needed to hear it more than he thought you did.

He continued, "No, honey I just wanted you to be able to be comfortable with me. I was waiting for you to ask. I was- I am perfectly content waiting as long as you want me to. I've never wanted someone more in my entire life than you. In every way. Literally every way. I want you to be my friend, I want you to be my girlfriend, I want you to be my wife, I want you to have my kids, I, I- I- just adore you, honey. all of you, so much... so yes, I very very much want to be inside of you every day, 24/7, but I'd also still be yours if you never let me. but god sometimes it's the only thing I think about all day. it's pathetic really, you have me almost cumming on myself halfway through my shift and you aren't even there. I don't think there's a time in which I'm around you- that you aren't crying- that im not at least a little hard. I am genuinely surprised you didn't notice. falling for the 'hands in pockets' thing? the oldest trick in the book baby, really it's no wonder it took you four months to realize I liked you. i think you might be blind." he finishes. you're both laughing so hard your ribs hurt, and you're attempting to hide in his neck. "No! No! I just told you all of my deepest darkest secrets and now you're hiding from me!"

You bring your head back up to his, beaming at each other. You pressed your lips together for a soft, sweet peck that turned into about twenty kisses all over his face.

"I love you Steve Harrington."

"I love you so much, silly girl. 'Love you so much even though you're a little bit oblivious." His reply is ironic because he is the most oblivious person in the entire world. But adorable and true nonetheless. He finishes his statement with a kiss.

"Y'know, I think about you too. Like that. A lot." you whisper, looking up at him from his shoulder.

"Yeah, baby? How much?" Here it is. The famous Steve Harrington charm that can make anyone weak in the knees. He's still got it. And a lot of it.

"Every day, and every night." You giggle into his shoulder. He looks at you, amused.

"Oh yeah, baby? Well, I'm taking you out for dinner tomorrow, how about that? And we can come home and we'll do whatever feels right for us, and take it from there. How's that sound? Or I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities in the future if you change your mind, doll." He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I'd like that, Stevie."

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 2

Everyone loved the first part so much I thought I’d throw up the second one today as a treat.

This part is a little heavy, Steve talks about what happened to the Kings and it’s not pretty, so a warning for content.

Part 1

*

Eddie managed to shower and change and get down to the bar with barely a minute to spare. His hair is a little damp but there was no getting around that not if he wanted to be on time.

He had changed into more comfortable jeans, and put on a long-sleeved mesh crop top, and a denim vest over that. He pulled on a pair of combat boots to finish off the look.

He fussed with his hair as he scanned the crowd. And then he spotted him. Steve Harrington. Dressed in tight leather pants and a plain white t-shirt and matching sneaks.

Eddie’s brain nearly blue screened again. Fuck. It looked good on him.

He muscled his way through the crowd to stand in front of Steve.

“Hey!” Steve greeted warmly. “You made it!”

He turned and ordered them a couple of bottles of beer.

Eddie shrugged. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Steve matched his shrug with one of his own. “After how hard you guys rocked tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to do anything but crash. Especially since you guys did practically two sets tonight.”

He handed Eddie a bottle and took the other one for himself.

Eddie smiled. “Nah, we’re good. We often party afterwards.”

“To each their own, man,” Steve shaking his head and then took a sip of his beer.  

Eddie laughed. “I think it would ruin people’s image of you if you went out partying after shows. Your main appeal is your hometown, boy next door, have your daughter home by nine kind of guy.”

Steve half shrugged. “Some days it chafes.”

“Is that why you chose to do a metal version of an alt rock song featuring the daughter of the king of pop?” Eddie asked with a wink.

Steve laughed. “Something like that.”

Eddie bit his lip for a moment. “Have you thought about branching out? Becoming more like Timberlake than Styles?”

“Moving outside the genre that catapulted me to stardom you mean?” Steve asked.

“Why not? People have been successful at it before,” Eddie reminded him. “Because, dude, if pop music chafes, stop doing it.”

“Maybe after this last album,” Steve said. “I’m under contract for one more and then maybe I’ll color outside the lines.”

Eddie nodded. Contracts were a bitch. “So you talk with the Kings anymore?” he asked to fill the silence that had stretched between them after that conversation stopper.

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “Billy died from an overdose about a year after we broke up. Tommy is in jail for beating his wife, Carol right before the Grammy’s last year. And Jonathan is dating my ex, and my agent tells me that there are wedding bells on the horizon. So no. I don’t speak to them anymore.”

“Holy shit!” Eddie said. “What the hell happened?”

“We were underage when we became famous,” Steve murmured. “So our parents took control of everything the first couple of years and pushed us too hard. Jonathan was the only one to survive because his mom made sure his dad couldn’t touch shit and shielded him from the worst the business had to offer.”

“You including yourself in the parents are shit pile?” Eddie asked.

“My parents were the worst because they looked respectable,” Steve said, “But both of them are among the worst people to walk this planet.”

“There’s a story there,” Eddie said, bumping into Steve shoulder, “come on. Spill.”

Steve looked around him and then leaned in so only Eddie could hear. “They tried to have me committed when I didn’t want to do what they wanted.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Seriously, the fuck?”

Steve nodded. “Nearly succeeded, too. If it wasn’t for my best friend intervening and becoming my manager. Robin saved my life.” He sighed heavily and looked down at his beer.

“You know what you need right now?” Eddie asked with a big grin.

“What’s that?” Steve cocked his head to the side.

“To let loose on the dance floor!”

Eddie grabbed his hand and led him out to the middle of floor and began dancing.

Steve laughed and then joined in. Letting his worries slide away with the beat of the music.

Eddie kept going back to the bar for liquid courage to ask this beautiful boy if he would come back to his hotel room with him. But after the fourth shot and third beer, Eddie was too tipsy for anything even to close to sex, much less standing upright.

As Steve found out as he tried to get the front man back to his hotel room. Eddie was all over Steve, giggling and shoving his hair in his mouth.

Steve shook his head, a fond smile on his face. He managed to get them to his room without either of them falling down.

“You’re very pretty,” Eddie giggled.

Steve laughed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You, on the other hand, is absolutely gorgeous.”

Eddie blushed deeply.

“Where is your hotel key, dude?” Steve asked.

“Pocket!” Eddie pressed his lips together and batted his eyelashes at him.

“Which one?” Steve asked.

Eddie just leaned forward for a kiss and Steve dodged, patting down the pockets in the vest with no luck, finding only the man’s car keys.

He reached around to feel up Eddie’s back pockets, looking for the wallet and trying very hard not to linger.

Eddie only made the temptation that much harder when he canted his hips into Steve’s, seeking friction.

Steve had to close his eyes and take deep breath. His hands slid to the front of Eddie’s pants and found the wallet in the right pocket, his cell phone in his left.  

“Why don’t you have your wallet in your back pocket like a normal person?” Steve asked, chuckling.

“Thiefy heads trying to steal it, so usually on a chain, but going to unknown bar went for front pocket instead.”

Steve smiled at him. “Duly noted.”  He opened the wallet, fishing out the key card and opened the door. He half carried the very drunk Eddie to the bed and flopped him face first into the covers.

Steve put his hands on his hips and looked around at the suite. It had it’s own sitting room and a door that led to a large bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi style bathtub.  “Damn, Robin is slacking, if this the is kind of room your manager can get for you.”

Eddie rolled over on his back and looked up at Steve with a grin. “And I don’t hafta share!”

“You are a menace, Munson,” Steve murmured. He began unlacing the boots and pulled them off. “Come on, get under the covers, you dork.”

Eddie leaned up and crooked his finger at Steve. Steve leaned forward.

“Not dork, nerd!” he whispered and giggled. But before Steve could straighten up, Eddie grabbed him and pulled him on the bed.

Steve laughed.

Eddie kissed him, but Steve managed to get away.

“Why...” Eddie huffed, pouting.

Steve booped his nose. “Because I have it on very good authority that you won’t remember this in the morning and I want you to remember.”

Eddie grumbled as Steve pulled the blankets over him.

Steve put Eddie’s boots by the door and put the keys, phone, and wallet on the small table next to the sofa.

Eddie mumbled something and Steve went over to the bed to make out what he was saying.

“Who’s authority? Who says I won’t remember. I could, you don’t know.”

Steve brushed Eddie’s hair out his face and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Mine.”

Steve slipped out the door to a snoring Eddie.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

Tag List: @bejeweledbaby @avacrebs @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @ohlook-afrog @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever

[sequinsmile-x]

Fourth - Chapter 2 - One Week Old

Emily and Aaron get through the newborn stage, also known as the 'fourth trimester', together.

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so much for the love on part 1. I really hope you like this too. As always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: List of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily had always prided herself on being able to function on very little sleep. It started when she was young, a wild teenager who’d sneak back into the embassy just a handful of hours before she had to be at school, and it was a skill she refined as she got older, her chosen career not one that was kind to someone who needed a full nights sleep. It had lulled her into a false sense of security, a lick of arrogance in her veins before Lucas had been born whenever someone told her she’d never known tiredness like it.

It turned out, much to her irritation and embarrassment, that they’d been right. 

Lucas hated sleep. In the week since he’d been born, he’d slept no more than an hour at a time, and when he did sleep he’d only do it in her arms or Aaron’s, his cheek pressed against one of their chests when he finally gave into the sleep he fought so hard. His preference for Emily was clear, his cries and whimpers taking longer to give way to precious silence whenever he was with Aaron.

She felt like a raw nerve, stripped back of everything that made her her, and no matter how often Aaron told her she was doing a good job, that she was an excellent mother, she didn’t believe him. 

She suppresses a yawn and kisses Lucas’s temple, tilting her head just enough to make sure he is still asleep. Relief and love rush through her in equal measure at his relaxed face, his kissable cheek squished against her sternum. 

“You’re so lucky you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, sweet boy,” she whispers, kissing his temple again, leaving her lips pressed against his soft skin, “And I hope you know that in approximately 14 years when I’m the most embarrassing person in your life, I’ll be telling all your friends how you used to refuse to sleep anywhere but right here.” 

She hears a soft, chuckle from the doorway and looks up to find her husband standing there, his smile tired as he looks at them on the couch, “I have a feeling he’ll always want to be exactly where you are.” 

She rests her cheek on top of her son’s head, her eyes drifting closed as she breathes him in, humming disbelievingly, “We’ll see.”

“JJ and Will just arrived,” he says quietly, nodding towards the front door, “They are on the porch armed with casseroles and what I think is a box full of Will’s famous beignets,” he smiles when her eyes flash. The mention of the sweet treat draws some joy out of the relentless tiredness that had settled over their home the last week, exhaustion and happiness so deeply intertwined since they’d brought Lucas home that Aaron thinks it may have leached into the walls, permanently changing the foundations of their home and their family, “JJ said they could come in or just leave the food and go home.”

Emily is sure she’s never loved their friends more, their offer one born out of being parents themselves, a level of understanding of the relentless nature of early parenthood that those without children didn’t have. 

“Tell them they can come in,” she says, “It will be nice having some adult company that isn’t you,” her eyes go wide as she says it, as if she hadn’t realised she was going to and she winces, “No offence.” 

His smile only gets wider and he winks at her, “None taken sweetheart. I’ll go let them in.” 

She briefly thinks about what she looks like, her outfit made up of a tank top, chosen for ease for whenever she needs to feed her son, that had a couple of stains on it that she couldn’t, and frankly didn’t want to, name, and a pair of Aaron’s sweatpants to accommodate the diaper she was still in. He’d diligently rolled up the pant legs of the sweatpants for her that morning so she wouldn’t trip when pacing back and forth or swaying on the spot with Lucas as she tried to lull him to sleep. 

Her concerns about her appearance, her unkempt clothes and unwashed hair, disappear the moment JJ and Will, laden with trays of casseroles, step into the room, wide smiles on their faces as they get closer.

“Look Lucas,” Emily says, shifting so the still sleeping baby’s face is visible to them, “It’s your Aunt JJ and Uncle Will.” 

JJ smiles and settles on the couch next to her, “He looks so much like you, Em.”

“That’s what I keep saying,” Aaron interjects from the doorway, his smile only getting wider when Emily raises her eyebrow at him, “But she says he looks just like me.” 

“He’s a lucky boy either way,” Will says, “He’s even more precious than the pictures showed,” he smiles at Emily, “How are you doing?”

She hums and chokes on a laugh, “Tired. Happy,” she says, something in her chest easing when he smiles at her with nothing but understanding shining in his eyes, “Overwhelmed.” Lucas shifts in her arms, drawing the attention of the adults in the room as he starts to whine, his face rubbing against her chest as he starts to root. Emily chuckles, “Excellent timing, Lukey.” 

“I’ll take these through to the kitchen,” Will says as he turns to Aaron, “Is there anything that needs doing around the house I can help with?” 

“Jack’s new game console isn’t working, he’s in the den, are you any good with electronics?” Aaron asks and Will shrugs, following him out into the hallway, his response fading as they walk away. 

“Will did all the cooking and baking,” JJ says conversationally as she looks at Emily, watching as her friend soothes her son, already a natural at something she always knew she would be, “He even put post-it notes with reheating instructions on each of the casseroles. His mom always says you should never go visit a new mama empty-handed.”

Emily hums gratefully as she adjusts her hold on Lucas and pulls one side of her tank top down and unhooks her nursing bra, “You married a good one.” 

JJ smiles nodding, as she twists her wedding ring around her finger, “So did you. Do you want me to give you some privacy?”, and Emily shakes her head, chuckling as Lucas latches on. 

“You saw much worse at my bachelorette party,” Emily quips, a shiver passing through her at the memory of it, “Pen and absinthe are a dangerous combination.” 

JJ laughs and nods, settling back on onto the couch, “Speaking of Pen,” she says, not missing how Emily tenses a little, “When I saw her today she said she was worried she’d upset you.” 

Emily sighs, her gaze fixed on her son, the love she felt for him somehow even more overwhelming than it had been a week ago when she first saw his face. 

“She dropped by unexpectedly a couple of days ago when you were all away on a case,” she explains as she looks up at JJ, understanding painted across her face as she nods, “It was right as we were trying to settle him down for a nap and…I may have snapped at her when she offered to take him from me,” she blows out a slow breath, “I meant to text her and apologise but I haven’t had a chance.” 

She knew Penelope had meant well, that her offer of holding Lucas, of taking the tiny, screaming, baby from her was only done with love in mind, but it had tipped Emily over the edge. Her frayed nerves finally falling apart as she yelled at her friend that she knew what she was doing, that Lucas was her baby and she was the best thing for him. The guilt had been immediate when Penelope’s face fell, only made worse when she made a hasty exit only a few minutes later, a tight smile on her face as Aaron walked her out, their conversation muted as Emily focused on getting Lucas to sleep. 

“You have nothing to apologise for, Em,” JJ assures her, her smile kind, “We both know she has a habit of overstepping sometimes and so does she. She’ll be fine.” 

Emily hums as Lucas unlatches and she rests him against her shoulder, readjusting her clothes as she starts to pat his back, “Doesn’t make me feel any better about it though.” 

“I know it doesn’t,” JJ says, smiling along with her as Lucas’s burp is punctuated by Aaron, Jack and Will exclaiming in joy from a few rooms over.

“I’m guessing Will got it working,” Emily says, “It was probably just unplugged or something but neither of us have slept in a week.” 

JJ hears the self-deprecation in her friend’s voice, the uncharacteristic nervousness brought on by a lack of sleep and fluctuating hormones she knew all too well. 

“Will is going to keep Jack busy for a while,” JJ says, smiling softly, “Or, more accurately, I’m imagining Jack and his video games will keep Will busy,” she laughs when Emily does, a flash of her usual self peeking out from behind the exhaustion, “So what do you need from me? I can take Lucas for a while if you need a break, or I can do some chores. Whatever you need.” 

Emily sighs gratefully, not sure why it catches in her throat, the sound wet as it’s caught up in tears she never seemed to stop shedding, “It’s easier if I hold him,” she says, “He cries if anyone else tries. Can we…” 

She drifts off, the request seeming nothing short of absurd as she chokes the words back. JJ reaches out for her, her hand on her arm as she squeezes, “Em, I won’t judge you no matter what it is. Can we what?” 

She blows out a shaky breath and shakes her head at herself, unhooking one arm from around Lucas as she wipes tears from her cheeks, “Can we just…talk? About anything? All I’ve talked about in the last week is Lucas and I love him. I love him so much, but I need…”

She drifts off again and JJ smiles, finishing her sentence for her, “To feel like a person, not just a Mom.”

Emily’s shoulders almost sag with relief and she nods, more tears slipping onto her cheeks, “God yes.” 

JJ smiles widely, her hand still on her arm, “Derek has started a new prank war with Spence, and it is not going well for him.” 

She sighs contentedly, holding her son against her chest, as her friend gives her a taste of life outside of the small, happy, exhausting, bubble she’d been living in for a week. 

___

“He’s asleep,” Aaron says, looking down at the baby fast asleep on his chest as Emily walks out of the bathroom, the five minute shower she’d taken transformative, “You could have taken longer, we would have been fine.” 

She hums tiredly as she crawls onto the bed and settles next to him, her head on his shoulder, her damp hair pressing against his cheek. She reaches out and places her hand over his on Lucas’s back.

“I think if I’d stayed in there any longer I would have fallen asleep standing up.” She sighs, unable to stop herself from staring at her baby’s sweet face, “Does it get any easier?” 

“No,” he replies, smiling softly when she looks up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. 

She scoffs, “You couldn’t have lied to me?” 

“Never,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, his lips catching the corners of hers, “It doesn’t get easier, it just…changes as they get older. It grows with them. You’ll get more sleep, they won’t be attached to you 24/7, but then you start worrying about other things.” 

She huffs and rests her head back on his shoulder, “Right now, the more sleep thing sounds like enough to me.” 

He chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple, “Try and get some sleep, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “I’ve got him.”

Emily nods, too tired to even try to fight him on it, and she closes her eyes, lulled to sleep by the sound of her husband and son’s breathing. 

-x-

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[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's september 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read (or didn't read...) this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist:

Summer Reading by Jenn McKinlay(18+!)

• review: this was a solid read. nothing incredible, but definitely better than some of the other crap i've read this year lol. i enjoyed the dynamic between the fmc - a dyslexic chef named sam - and the mmc - a librarian named ben - and the interesting relationship between someone who hates to read and someone who's life revolves around books. honestly i was really interested to see how this played out between the two of them, but like one week into them fooling around he begins to read a book aloud to her and the conflict is magically solved. sam just loves audiobooks now and i wish the author had done more with that. both sam and ben have goals they're striving to reach and i love that ben is able to see his through to the end, but the reader is kind of left wondering about sam's and i would have loved for that threat to have been tied up, but overall this was a cute read. my only real issue with this story was the quality of writing. there were some parts that were super cringe and were clearly written by a millennial emulating the 'how do you do fellow kids' meme that i could've gone without... anyway. i really enjoyed the relationship exploration between sam and her budding teenager brother. after not being in each others lives for a bit, i thought their bonding over the summer was adorable :) would've loved to read a book just about them tbh. neither of the main characters were the kinds of characters to write home about, but overall i did enjoy the progression of their relationship. just kind of a middle-ground novel.

• rating: 3/5 seasons of the bear that taught me all i know about cooking

fic list:

assorted works of @ceruleanmusings <3

look around your world, pretty baby

Blood Diamond; Year Four

i could always write literal essays on your work i swear to god but these two works this month really got to me as per usual. the first mickames one shot for james canon bday was so freaking adorable. i had literal butterflies in my stomach like i was there on the date with them... despite the urgency of the time crunch, which you did exellent in making it seem like it was somehow slow and fast at the same time, god i read this like three times over. mickey and james are just my favorite ;-;!! and blood diamond always hitting in the feels of course... this one in particular really got to me though. the combination of brooke's annoyance with james the last few chapters really came to a head here at the hair salon. he's just a kiddo!! let him play in peace!! and then her figuring out a way to potentially exploit his singing talent... i'll wring her neck i swear. as always tysm for sharing and tagging me in your works 😭 i could read them forever and ever and ever <3

2. assorted works of @partiallypearl/ @praetoravila <3

it's nowhere close to closing time

all over again

be my weekend lover (but don't be my friend)

can i have this dance?

lolive kissssss

you got me paralyzed

you know all my deep dish

this is such a STACKED LINE UP AUGH!! from the beginning with it's nowhere close to closing time... kogan... save me.... i love the first chapter introduction to both the characters and the setting. it's been so exciting theorizing how the story will play out from here and i can't wait to read more!! and of course... all over again with olive my beloved... i just can't get enough of logan and olive and their fucked up little relationship. jo's party chapter literally had me shitting my pants ngl and you already know im thinking of lolive on a daily basis. they're my roman empire i stg... the other three lolive on shots had me by the neck too - from the conversation with kendall 👀 to the quinceañera chapter to their KISS augh im too obsessed for my own good... and saylors introduction one shot!!! ahh!!!! you always have such interesting and well-rounded ocs i'm so jealous!!! i can't wait to learn more about saylor and their relationship with both kendall and lucy :)) macie's story too... she and katie are so adorable. i love the dynamic you've set up between the two of them as they both navigate hollywood!! obsessed as always. im up in your dms literally every single day gushing and i wouldn't have it any other way!!!!!!! <3

3. assorted works of @selangkir <3

mrs. knight one shot

girl time rush (anniversary reread🙏)

iconic work as ALWAYS!!!!!! i truly think your character interptetations of btr/side characters/ocs are so unique and bring such a fresh perspective to the story! the mrs. knight one shot, on top of being hilarious, began to expand on her pretty one dimensional characterization in such a short story and it blew me away. unmatched creativity!! lord knows she needed the j anyway if im being COMPLETELY honest. and i cannot believe gtr turned one year old this month what the fuck!! what the actual fuck!! i swear i've read all three chapters about a bazillion times. ty for being so accepting of roxy and using her as a vessel to tell your story too <3 i'd be lying if i said i wasn't so inspired by sabrina carpenter rn i already have another chapter draft of my own cooking in the google docs..... <33

4. assorted works of @inkameswetrust <3

the windowsill pt. 4

the windowsill pt. 5

oh LORD such incredible updates to this sweet story. these chapters always pack such a punch! i expect nothing less from kames fan #1... im obsessed with the continued relationship between katie and kendall in pt 4. btrtv lacks so heavy on their sibling-ness so i always love seeing it expanded on in fic! and JAMES AND KENDALL GOING OFFICIAL AOAJFOBOBGA i had knots in my stomach! you've also so clearly set up stakes and kendall's future fears it's so genuine and just real it hits so hard. pt 5 with brooke had me almost throwing my phone at the wall if im being honest. the way she spoke to kendall was bonechilling and i'm nervous yet excited for their future together <3 never stop kamesing the world needs it so so sos sooo bad !!!

5. assorted works of @naquey / @ithinkyouhealedmyheart

ghostwriter chapter 1

ghostwriter chapter 2

hi <3 welcome to the reading round up! i love your story sm i'm so grateful to be here for the very beginning of kenonnie and their sweet relationship. ronnie is such a cool character! there is so much depth and dimension to them and i love that every single chapter we learn something new about her!! from her relationship with addy and callie (who i also ADORE and can't wait to learn more about) to his struggles with his father's health... god... the amount of thought you put in is clear and i'm just astounded! the second chapter was also super cool too; i love how you took existing characters and tweaked their relationship so we could learn more about how you view the two of them. i'd never thought to write something with just kelly and rebecca - it's so inventive, just like the (spoliers lol) other chapters you've published since <3 tysm for sharing your writing with us, i'm so excited to see ronnie's journey progress!!!

[abimess]

Forbidden - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist | Be notified of my stories

Summary: Meeting the perfect woman at a party has three complications: 1) you're married; 2) she's your student; 3) she’s too good to let go. 

Word count: 6.859 || Pronouns: she/her

Warnings: smut [18+ only!]

A/N: And it's finally here! I can't believe it took me so long to finish this chapter, I'm so sorry hahaha I hope you all enjoy it though! 

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist | Previews part

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“You’re home.” The surprise in your voice disguises how mentally tired you are, your hand loosening the knot of your tie as you furrow your brows. Blond hair stuffed in the refrigerator was the last thing you expected to see when you got home. 

“I am.” Carol says as she fits in an upright posture, a bottle of beer in her hand and a sloppy smile on her face. “I was on the phone with your dad this morning and he told me you had settled in, so I stopped by.” The information makes you frown, setting your bag on the kitchen counter after you get rid of your shoes. “Why were you on the phone with my dad?”

“We’re closing another partnership.” She says simply, using a dishcloth to open the glass bottle. You barely give her a hum of understanding, moving to the sink so you can pour yourself a glass of water. 

Ever since you and Carol started to grow serious, your father offered her a partnership. You weren’t sure what a Football player would offer a tech company such as Stark Industries, but Howard found a way to make it work, advertising more and more training-oriented products, always with your wife as the poster girl. 

To say that the deal has enriched not only your father but also Carol is an understatement. And the partnership that was wonderful at the beginning, became your biggest nightmare as your marriage began to sink, and your father became more and more emphatic about you staying in it.  

“You should call him, he misses you.” The blonde speaks after a few minutes of silence, turning to face you with her hip resting on the kitchen counter. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you finish your water unhurriedly. You’re pretty sure what she meant to say is that he misses the opportunity to micromanage every single aspect of your life. “And so have I.”

“Oh, have you?” You hit back as you wash your glass, sarcasm dripping from your words, completely unconvinced. “Come on, Y/n, can we not do this right now? I just got home.” Carol complains tiredly, a loud huff leaving her lips before she speaks, but you remain silent, your back to her as you keep your place by the sink.

When your relationship with the blonde started, you were sure there would be no other woman in the world for you. No one would ever be able to make you so happy, to love you as she did. That was your truth for so many years, and although there’s a part of you that still wants to believe that, it grows weaker every time you see pictures and videos of her from the times she spent away. 

Always with some other girl, her hands around her waist or neck, laughing as she used to do with you, whispers in ears that used to flip your stomach but now just made you sick. There was never something more incriminating than that - although, to you, all of those images were incriminating enough. 

But with every fight, every shouted accusation and lame excuses, Carol always found a way to keep you believing her, to make you ignore the small voice in your head that told you to leave. Of course, the insistent pressure from your family helped her a lot with that. Still, she couldn’t stop it from hurting.

“I’m gonna go shower.” You let her know when you’re done, wiping your hands on the back of your pants. “I could join you.” She tries, moving closer, but you screw your eyes shut to disguise your irritation. “Today was really tiring.” You cut her off more harshly than you intended, and your wife's hurt expression makes you sigh. “Maybe some other time.” You suggest, rubbing the bridge of your nose, and the blonde forces a sad smile as she nods slowly. “Sure. I’ll make us some dinner, then.”

She doesn’t wait for a response before she turns around and makes her way back to the refrigerator. But you’re pretty sure you saw a few tears pooling in her eyes, so you sigh softly, your jaw locked as you move closer to her. 

“I’m glad you’re home.” You tell her with a hand over her shoulder, and Carol turns her face to you the same moment, her surprised expression lit by the refrigerator light. “Me too.” She answers with a smile, and you force one in response before you leave the kitchen.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

The rest of the term is hell.

Seeing Wanda every Tuesday and Thursday is killing you slowly, no matter how she chooses to behave for the day. Sometimes, she’ll ignore you completely, keeping her gaze down on the pages of her notebook for the two hours that your class lasts. At other times, she’ll keep her gaze at you, barely blinking, her jaw tensed, her expression letting you know that, if she could, she would jump on your neck. 

What makes it all the worse, is that she keeps ignoring your attempts to reach her, all your calls going straight to voicemail, all your texts completely ignored. And the worst part is that you can’t even blame her. She’s right. You lied to her, even if you didn’t use your words to do so. You disregarded her trust in you and you’d forever hate yourself for it. 

“You look too depressed, even for an artist.” A voice you’ve grown accustomed to sounds in your ears as you walk towards your office, and you giggle softly, slowing your pace so that the redhead can catch up with you. “I’m not an artist, I’m a professor.”

“I think this explains your suffering better.” Natalia retorts with amusement, making you laugh some more. The two of you then make some small talk as you walk together to the faculty building, greeting a few acquaintances and students you meet around the campus along the way.

“Doing anything fun for the Holidays?” The Russian Professor asks when you reach your office door, and you move the books you were holding to only one of your hands so you can unlock the door. “I’m going to visit my parents in their winter cabin, so no.” You tell her, which makes her laugh. “What about you?”

“Visiting my parents too.” She answers with her arms crossed, resting her shoulders on the door frame as you move inside the room, placing your belongings on your desk - completely messy due to the end of the term. “They said they met a ‘nice guy’ they wanted to introduce to me, so I’ll make sure to be extra gay once I get there.” Natalia tells with a roll of her eyes, and you let out a giggle. “I hardly believe someone would ever doubt your homosexuality.”

“Thank you, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” The redhead says in an overly dramatic tone, with her hands over her chest and pretending she’s about to cry. You laugh as you shake your head in amusement, and the other smiles before asking, “Are you going home yet?”

“No, I have some grades to double-check before I leave.” You let her know as you dramatically plop yourself down on your chair, making her laugh. “Alright. Happy Holidays, Y/n/n.” She wishes with a kind smile, to which you respond with one of your own as you say. “Happy Holidays, Nat.”

The redhead leaves your office after that, closing the door behind her. As you turn your laptop on, you check your phone once again, just in case she has answered you. Of course she didn’t, the stack of messages sent staring back at you. So you let out a long sigh and, shoving your phone back in your pocket, you start to work.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

“Wanda! There's delivery for you! Again.” Yelena changes her shouted tone for an annoyed grumble as she says the last word, forcing a smile at the delivery guy as she signs the tablet he offers her. Wanda, from her bedroom, sighs, already knowing what it was before having to see it with her own eyes. 

Not content with filling her cell phone with calls and texts, your new approach was gifting. Well, not new, exactly, once you’ve been doing it since the end of the past term. To make matters worse, your gifts were always thoughtful. First, you sent red roses and a note, apologizing again and saying you chose the flowers because you remember she had some decorating her room. Yelena and Kate suggested she throw them away, however, and they ended up on the terrace of the building, burning the flowers on a portable grill one of the neighbors lent them. 

The next gift was a box of chocolates, but what surprised Wanda the most was the small golden kosher stamp, certifying that the product follows the Jewish dietary law. Living in the States and with a routine as chaotic as any college student's can be, Wanda always has a hard time following the rules that her religion sets, most of all when it comes to food. But she tries her best to do so and she couldn’t help thinking it was really sweet of you to be this thoughtful. Although her friends suggested tossing in the trash the letter that came along with the box, all the girls agreed that throwing away chocolate would be a crime, so they kept that one.  

You also sent a Gray Wolf plush - the national animal of her birthplace - and a book about the history of the city of Kraków. Neither Yelena nor Kate understood what that last gift meant, but the brunette did, and she decided to keep the story to herself, ignoring her rosy cheeks and her friends' complaints to take the gift to her room.  

So yes, Wanda was still very pissed off and hurt by the entire situation. But your persistent, thoughtful gifts were finding a way to get to her heart. And she hated it.

“Uh, is it chocolate again? I loved the ones she sent last week.” Kate gets to Yelena before Wanda does, leaving her place in the kitchen - where she was preparing a sandwich - to approach the blonde and whatever it is she has in her hands. “It’s not for you, Bishop.” Belova scolds, moving the silver box away from the other girls’ hands, and Wanda chuckles at the interaction.

When she’s close enough, Yelena hands her the box - which is only slightly larger than a shoebox. Kate and Yelena fall silent as they watch Wanda holding the item in her hands, and examining it for a moment before taking it to the kitchen counter. When the brunette opens the lid, the other two girls frown in confusion, but she has a small smile on the corner of her lips.  

“What flowers are those?” Bishop is the one who asks, watching as Wanda takes the bouquet carefully out of the box, the small white flowers enhancing the beautiful green of the leaves. “Lilies of the valley.” The brunette answers with an easy smile, her eyes never leaving the flowers, and Kate takes no time in googling it on her phone. “It's a flower of forgiveness.”

“It’s also Sokovia’s national flower.” Wanda adds, her smile growing as she fails to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. And as Kate lets out a soft ‘awn’, Yelena crosses her arms, snorting. “That’s not desperate at all.”

“I think it’s kinda cute.” Bishop retorts to the other's sarcasm, receiving a warning look. “Don’t encourage it!” The blonde grumbles, lightly hitting her friend's arm for emphasis. “What? It is! She’s really trying!” Kate hits back, defensively, but Yelena only snorts again. “She used our friend! She just wanted someone to have fun with in her boring married life. A poor, innocent girl to discard after a one-night stand...”

“I’m right here.” Wanda grumbles with an unamused expression, earning from Yelena an apologetic grimace. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true.” Bishop responds to her friend's previous comment, folding her arms with a pensive expression. “Like, would she be sending all these gifts if it was that meaningless? I mean, it’s been months.”

Belova lets out a disbelieving laugh, rolling her eyes. But when they rest on Wanda’s face again, she frowns. “Oh no, you’re thinking, stop thinking!” Yelena warns, but the brunette doesn’t let go of her thoughtful frown. “Kate may be right though.” She says with a shrug, putting the flower back on the box, and the blonde takes her annoyed gaze to the taller one in the room. “Are you happy?”

“Look, I’m not saying she’s not wrong about what she’s done.” Kate defends herself, her gaze shifting between Wanda and Yelena. “She still lied to you and, worse, she’s still married.” The brunette can’t help but let her eyes fall on the flowers you sent as she hears her friend, and she decides to close the lid so she can think straight. “But, I don’t know, maybe you mean more to her than you think you do. What did she say when you confronted her, again?”

“She said it didn’t have to be the last time, but I didn’t let her say more than that.” Wanda recalls with her arms hugging her own body to protect herself from the memories and the messed-up situation she’s in - without much success, however. Kate snaps her fingers. “See? Maybe she does like you and wants to be with you, even if she’s married. Oh my God, this is so exciting!”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Yelena asks, completely baffled, drawing all eyes back to her. “She’s our professor. You can’t date your professor!” She reasons, but Kate just snorts dismissively. “Of course you can! It’s super hot too, everyone wants to do that.” The comment makes Wanda laugh softly with amusement, shaking her head. But Yelena is still annoyed by it all. “It’s illegal.”

“I’m not underage, Yelena, I’m capable of making my own decisions.” The brunette speaks for the first time after a while, an eyebrow raised in her direction, but the blonde shakes her head. “It’s not about that, Wanda, it’s against the university rules, she’ll be fired.” The comment makes the brunette furrow her brows, she hadn’t thought about it that way before.

“You better tell your sister about that.” Kate breaks the silence with a teasing smirk that makes Yelena almost growl in anger. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” The blonde doesn't even finish talking to start stomping away towards the exit of their shared apartment. “Lena, come on, it was just a joke!” Bishop tries to hide a smile as she follows the other girl out and Wanda laughs softly at the other two before looking at the box on the counter again, staring at it for a while before deciding to take it with her to her room.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Going back to school after the winter break ends also means seeing you again and Wanda wasn't sure how she felt about it. She was still mad at you for everything you’ve done to her, of course. But after almost three months - and your constant gifts and trying to reach out to apologize - the brunette couldn’t deny she was getting soft.

As she walks with her friends to your classroom - Kate by her left shoulder and Yelena by her right one -, Wanda feels her heart skipping two beats with every step she takes. The other two girls, completely unaware of the brunette’s struggles, keep talking excitedly about something she wasn’t really paying attention to, but was trying really hard to do so. 

Now, Wanda wasn’t sure what was going to happen once they finally reached the classroom. Maybe your eyes would meet and you’d smile at her again, and she’d be incapable of not smiling back and everything would be fine. Or you wouldn’t even spare her a glance, having grown tired of waiting for her. What she did not expect, however, is that one of her classmates would be talking to you - or rather, flirting with you.

“I told you, everyone wants to date a professor.” Kate comments by her side as she follows Wanda’s furious gaze with her own to where you were talking to Anna Marie, who had her hand resting on your arm lightly. “What’s wrong with people wanting to date their teachers?” Yelena grumbles as she pushes her friends to some chairs close to the exit, and Wanda has a hard time taking her eyes away from you to walk. 

“Well, it’s not every day we have a Professor who isn’t seventy years old.” Kate comments with amusement, placing her stuff on the table. “And, with all due respect, Wanda, but she’s kinda hot.” The girl’s elbow hitting her side playfully finally tears the brunette’s eyes from the front of the class, blinking a few times to recollect her thoughts. As Kate laughs softly, Yelena grumbles displeased. “Gross.”

“You’re just mad about it because half of your friends want to sleep with your sister.” Bishop retorts with amusement, and Yelena grumbles once again, changing her desk so that Wanda is sitting between her and Kate. “That’s it, you’re not sitting by my side.” Kate only chuckles softly, but the brunette hasn't been paying attention for a long time.

In the front of the classroom, Anna is still talking to you - and with her hand still annoyingly on your forearm. But you push her hand away politely and, although she can’t hear from that distance, by the motion of your hand the brunette thinks you told the other girl to go sit down. 

As Marie finds a place to sit, your eyes scan the room, stopping when they meet Wanda’s. At first, she’s frozen, not sure if she should look away or keep staring. But you offer her a small smile - nearly invisible at that distance -, and avert your gaze the next moment when the brunette doesn’t reciprocate, her blood still boiling inside her veins. 

So you start your class as naturally as you can and, as the hours go by, you have no trouble noticing that today is one of the days Wanda looks at you as if she wants to jump on your neck.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

From the next class on, everything changes. 

You were drinking from your water bottle on Thursday when Wanda arrived with her friend, and you almost choked at the sight of her. Instead of the casual clothes she usually wears to class, her lower half is very poorly covered by a miniskirt, and the tight-fitting tank top she wears exposing a fair amount of her chest have you drooling. 

To make matters worse, once her eyes meet yours she sends you a smirk full of meaning, her lower lip trapped between her teeth before she looks away. The interaction is brief, but it’s more than enough to make your brain malfunction for the rest of the class. The way the brunette is clearly having fun with the whole thing doesn’t help. 

And that’s how the classes went. Wanda showing up in shorter and shorter clothes, messing with your sanity whenever your eyes landed on her, either by biting the pen cap, crossing her arms with the sole purpose of making her breasts even more evident under her cleavage, or even spreading her legs apart slightly so you can see the color of her panties - sometimes, when she was sitting close enough, you could even see the dark stain of her arousal.

You had no idea where all that was coming from. But - as much as you liked it - it had to end, because you were getting increasingly distracted in class, to the point where some students noticed your uneased posture, and asked if you were alright. So, one afternoon after the class was over, you called her over. 

“Miss Maximoff, do you have a moment, please?” You asked, trying to sound as unaffected as you could, beckoning the younger girl to approach you by your table. “Yes, Professor?” The brunette asks as she does so, her innocent voice sounding unnatural in the face of the little smirk on the corner of her face.

You find yourself wondering how the hell she can look so pretty all the damn time, especially with that red dress that was too short for the sake of your mental health and a black jacket over it that highlights the red locks of her hair. Your eyes almost linger on her mouth for too long until the noises of your students leaving attract your attention again. So you clear your throat awkwardly, pretending to look through some papers and missing the way her smirk grows wider. “I, uh, I’d like to discuss the third topic of your essay, I don’t think it is very clear to me.”

“Well, Professor, what I meant by that is that one of the pillars of art is desire, isn't it?” She points out the discussion you had in previous classes, but you can barely listen, too busy trying to keep your brain working properly as she rests her palms over the table with her stretched out, highlighting her cleavage… “Every piece of art seeks to arouse a craving in its consumers, an irresistible hunger they cannot deny-”

“Wanda, you’re killing me.” You interrupt with a groan, your voice low so the few remaining students won’t hear, your hand loosening your tie to try and relieve the heat - which obviously doesn’t help. “I don’t know what you mean, professor, I’m just explaining my essay.” The brunette hits back, and although her posture is dismissive, her amused tone gives her away, making you sigh in surrender. “Can we talk? Please, I-”

“I’m sorry Professor, I have another class in ten minutes.” She says with a forced apologetic grimace, checking the time on her phone. “Maybe I can go to your office after dinner time?” She suggests before you can complain, taking a step closer to you, and you have to resist the urge to take a step back, gulping harshly as you nod your head dumbly. The effect she has on you… You’d never be able to explain.

“S-sure, I’ll be waiting for you.” You manage to stutter out, your eyes glued on her lips when she offers you a broad smile. “Okay. See you later, professor.” She says her goodbyes, and doesn’t wait for your answer before walking away. Not that you would’ve been able to, too focused on the sway of her hips intentionally done to catch your eye.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

You can barely focus on any of your classes after that, and all your interactions happen on autopilot as all you can think about is your meeting with Wanda after dinner. And when the time finally comes, you’re passing back and forth anxiously around your office. 

The knocks on your door startle you slightly and you take a few seconds to check your reflection in the small mirror on the corner, fixing your hair as you walk to the door. The wooden piece swings to your right at your own strength, revealing on the other side the brunette you’ve wanted to see since the very first second she left the classroom earlier today. 

It hasn't been long since then, only a gap of a few hours. But the atmosphere between the two of you has already changed completely, a dense cloud of uncertainty and anticipation dancing around the both of you, growing thicker with each passing moment of you staring into each other's eyes.

“Hi.” Wanda is the one who breaks the silence first, her posture - once determined and defiant now almost insecure, with one hand firmly around the bag's strap and the green irises struggling to remain in yours. “Hey.” You say back just as softly, moving to the side just enough for the girl to enter your office. She offers you a minimal smile as she does so, and it’s right there that you realize how much you’ve missed it these past months.   

The click of the door closing behind you is the prelude to a long moment of silence that follows between you, broken by the faint noise of students and faculty walking around campus. Wanda stops facing you in the middle of the room, her back to your desk, appearing uncomfortable in that place she had never been before. You watch her in silence, your mind racing with everything you wanted to say right now, your chest tightening preventing you from doing so.

“Wanda, what’s happening?” You condense all your questions into one, the lump in your throat turning into a tired scoff. “One day you hate me, won’t even look at me if not to glare at me as if I were the worst person in the world - not that I can blame you for that, of course, but... In the next you are…” You point at her, remembering the stunt she pulled in class earlier, and once again the words fail you, leaving you unable to say anything but repeat the question, “what’s happening?”

The brunette remains silent. Her eyes drop from yours, her jaw locked and her expression thoughtful. She seems to be searching for the right words, you imagine, and you don't push her to do so, remaining silent, watching her with as much patience as your anxious brain allows you. A little longer than a minute later, she sighs. 

“I saw you talking to Anna before class the other day.” Wanda tells, a tone almost shameful. You furrow your brows in confusion, but your obliviousness only earns you an annoyed grunt from the brunette. “She was flirting with you so bluntly, in front of everyone and I… I was so angry, I just…” You finally remember the day she mentioned, when one of your students came to you before class started. But you barely pay any mind to it, too curious about the words the girl in front of you is holding back from saying. 

“I don’t want you looking at any other girl but me.” A low gasp leaves your lips at her confession, your mouth agape with surprise. “I don’t.” You say wholeheartedly, your restless mind suddenly empty. “Your wife wouldn’t like to hear you say that.” The brunette accuses bitterly, one eyebrow raised as her features contort into an angry expression. “I’ve seen pictures of the two of you. You look cute together, happy.”

“And you believe everything you see on the internet, I suppose.” You return her sarcastic tone with an amused yet devoid of humor one, a dry laugh escorting your words. Wanda looks at you with curiosity this time, and you put your hands in your pockets, looking away as you tell, “Carol and I are not happy, we haven’t been in a long time. My marriage, it’s not… It just doesn’t work anymore.”

“And why don’t you end it?” Wanda asks in a heartbeat, the expression on her face indecipherable when you look up at her again. “It’s complicated.” You answer simply with a shrug of your shoulders. The last thing you wanted right now was to talk about the misfortunes of your failed marriage. The answer doesn’t please the brunette in the slightest however, who scoffs in disbelief with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes as she murmurs, “of course it is.”

“I mean it.” You hit back firmly, and wait for her to look at you again to speak. She's reluctant to do so at first, but when her eyes finally meet yours, they're hurtful, and you sigh wearily. “I wanna end things. I do. I just… I’m just finding it hard to find the right time to do so.” Your words are honest, but they don’t convince Wanda, who merely nods in understanding, looking down at her feet once again. 

“Did you, hm, did you like the gifts I sent you?” You try to change the subject, because the last thing you want right now is to see her sad, even if you can’t do much to change that. The brunette seems to have a similar line of thinking, because when she looks up again, her expression is playful. 

“Was that you?” The teasing question makes you let out a chuckle, looking away at your shoes and missing the way she smiles at you. “I did.” She answers finally, her tone softer this time. “Kate loved the chocolates, by the way, she’s been looking for them everywhere. Where did you find them?”

“I had a friend help me out.” You answer vaguely, and Wanda doesn't want to think too much about the butterflies in her stomach at the mere thought of you talking about her to other people. Fortunately for her, she doesn’t have to, because your approaching footsteps catch her attention, and having you so close again makes her brain stop working for a second. 

“I’m really sorry, Wanda.” You change the tone of the conversation once more, the glint behind your eyes as pleading as your tone when you reach out for her hands. “I never meant to hurt, much less to use you.” You assure her honestly, and the brunette tries not to be so distracted by the soft caress your thumbs offer the back of her hands. “I should’ve been honest about my situation and about what I want.”

“And what do you want?” The younger girl asks, her tone so low you’re sure you only heard her due to your closeness. “You.” You don’t think twice before you answer, appreciating the way she holds her breath. Her pupils are blown and they fall to your lips that same second, but you fight the urge to kiss her to keep talking. “And I know I’m married and I’m your professor, the situation couldn’t be any worse. But that doesn't make me want you any less.”

“I want you too.” The brunette confesses back, a short smirk at the corner of her lips at the low gasp you let out. “I-I don't care about these things. I know I should, but… I just want you, in whatever way you can be mine.” She finds herself saying, surprising not only you but herself at the sudden utterance. 

“Are you sure about this?” You ask, your eyebrows frowning in a way that displays all your uncertainty. But Wanda’s smile only grows, nodding her head in an almost silly way as the words make more and more sense to herself. “Yes.” She answers verbally not long after, her eyes coming back to your own in an attempt to reassure you further. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now, then.” You’re smiling as you let her know, a smile that only grows as she lets out a silly little laugh, nodding her head again as she agrees, “okay.”

You take no time in leaning in, and the brunette takes even less to meet you halfway, your lips touching for the first time after so long. The muscles of your bodies relax in untold synchrony, your mouths finding a perfect rhythm as easily as the first time they did so, all those months ago. 

Her hands find the sides of your face at the same moment that yours take a hold of her waist, pulling her closer to your own body. The sigh she lets out makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, but before you can deepen the kiss, she is pulling away to say, "God, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." You confess equally breathlessly, your lips brushing together as you speak. "There hasn't been a moment in these last months that I haven't been thinking about you." The brunette's contented giggle is all you get in response before she leans forward again, kissing you harder than before. 

The fabric of her dress slides up as you caress her sides, and you instantly remember the scene from earlier, pulling away once again and chuckling softly at the small whimper of protest she lets out. “You look beautiful in this dress by the way.” You praise, letting your gaze descend on her figure as you admire her briefly.

“You’ll like me better without it.” Wanda’s words are rushed against your mouth, and she gives you no room to speak as she kisses you again, her hands firmly in your hair to prevent you from escaping her again. To her delight, you had no intention of doing so, kissing her harder instead. 

As her tongue dances around yours, you push her gently yet hurriedly, walking a few steps with her until her hips hit the hard wood of your desk. Wanda doesn’t hesitate when they do so, sitting atop the piece of furniture and wrapping her legs around your middle, pressing your body against hers further. One of her hands untangles from your locks only to tug at your tie, and you lose all your sanity at once, groaning against her lips as your hand invades her dress without warning. 

The brunette breaks the kiss with a loud gasp as she feels your fingers push the fabric of her panties aside, and lets out a sinful moan when you stick two of them into her at once, your digits sliding with ease through her arousal. You are quick to kiss her again, swallowing her moans as they escape her throat. But the wet sounds of your hand fucking her so hard echo around you, making your own core burn. 

As her orgasm approaches, Wanda leads her hands to your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin through the fabric, her mouth failing to keep the rhythm on yours. So you move your own to her jaw and neck, biting and sucking on her skin just enough so it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

The brunette, on the other hand, focuses all her strength on being quiet, her eyes screwed shut and her lower lip trapped between her teeth to prevent any of her moans and whimpers from coming out. But it’s all in vain once you press your thumb on her clit, and Wanda has to bury her face on your shoulder, biting your skin to muffle the sounds she’s unable to keep to herself. 

You only stop when her trembling hand rests over your wrist, and you smile to yourself at the mess you made out of her so quickly, missing her warmth the same instant you pull your fingers out of her. The brunette sighs at the lack, her walls clenching around nothing as she tries to recover from her climax. You kiss her sweaty forehead as you wait, smoothing the skin of her thighs with your hands, unaware of the way the touch makes her tremble. 

Not after long, Wanda lifts her face from your shoulder, and her smile is the last thing you see before she kisses passionately. You barely have the time to reciprocate it before her fingers find your belt, and your grip on her thighs immediately intensifies in anticipation. But before she can go any further, her phone is ringing. 

"Shit." She grumbles as she pulls away, hastily engaging in finding the device inside her bag. "H-hi, Pietro!" She greets as soon as she finds the cell phone, an excited and surprisingly innocent tone. You, on the other hand, blink a few times, trying to keep up with the sudden change of events, your hands still on her legs under her dress as you try to catch your breath. 

"No! No, I'm coming, I just..." You watch as the brunette talks to the person you don't know, your chest tightening a little in anticipation for the longing you know you will be left with after she's gone. "I had an inconvenience to sort out." She finishes her own sentence finally, and when you raise a single eyebrow, she rolls her eyes with a smile. "But I'm done, I'm on my way... Okay, bye."

"An inconvenience?" You ask teasingly as she hangs up, taking a few steps back so she can stand up. The question earns you a brief chuckle from the brunette as she gets to her feet again. "Sorry, would you rather I told my brother I was busy fucking my Professor?" You laugh back at her joke, grimacing a response that makes a smile grow on her face before it fades away. "I have to go now."

"Five more minutes." You mumble as you pull her close again, your arms secure around her waist. "I can't." Wanda says amidst a giggle, even though she makes not the slightest effort to disengage from your embrace. "I have to pick my brother up at the airport." She tells you, laughing some more when you grimace in displeasure. 

"I'll return the favor, I promise." The brunette promises, her hands over your chest and a suggestive tone that matches her smirk perfectly. "Hmm, it's the second time you say that but who's counting?" You tease with an easy smile, biting back a laugh when she narrows her eyes in your direction. "I will return all of them, okay." She lightly slaps your shoulder to display her own displeasure, taking advantage of the action to wrap her arms around your neck. You let out a low chuckle, murmuring in understanding before rubbing your nose against hers affectionately.  

"But now I gotta go." Wanda comments against her own will, her stomach doing somersaults at the display of affection. But she doesn't comment on it, and you sigh in surrender. "Okay." Your arms leave her middle to give way to your fingers intertwining with hers as you guide her toward the door.

"Oh, wait!" The brunette snaps the fingers of her free hand as if remembering something before you reach the office exit, earning her a curious look from you in response. "Is there really something wrong with my essay or was that just an excuse?" she asks worriedly, and you can't help but giggle before assuring her, "I haven't read it yet actually." 

Wanda murmurs in understanding, but it doesn't take long for a smirk to grow at the corner of her mouth, looking at you mischievously. "I'm hoping you'll be nice while grading it, professor." She comments suggestively, tracing her fingertips lightly down your collarbone. You swallow dryly, pushing away the effect she has on you to smile teasingly back. "Are you using me for good grades, Miss Maximoff?"

"It's more of a bonus, really." She retorts with a shrug, and you let out an amused laugh with a slight roll of the eyes that makes her smile. "Well, I'll have you know there will be no favoritism." You retort with a playful tone of reprimand, but Wanda doesn't back down, raising an eyebrow at you instead. 

"Is that so?" She steps forward to ask, her breath brushing your skin along with her nose on yours. "But I thought I was your favorite." She comments with a pout, giving you puppy dog eyes that you have no trouble realizing would make her get you to do anything for her. 

"You are, but we can't let other people know that, can we?" You retort with amusement, tilting your head to the side and adjusting your posture so as to put a little more distance between the two of you. Although she tries to disguise it, you can tell by her expression that she's annoyed that her teasing hasn't worked, and you have to hold back a giggle as you admire the scene. 

"Besides, it's not like you need it anyways, you're already my best student." You praise wholeheartedly, earning a contented smile and rosy cheeks in return. The adorable sight makes it impossible for you to hold back any longer, and you soon lean forward, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. The brunette giggles as she reciprocates it, but before she can even bring her hands to the sides of your face, you are pulling away. 

"You should go now." You comment, and the brunette's eyes widen slightly as she remembers that her brother was waiting for her at the airport on the other side of town. "I should." She agrees with a nod of her head, but soon her countenance softens, looking at you with sparkling eyes and an easy smile. "Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Wanda." You say goodbye in the same tone, a smile on your face matching hers perfectly and that only grows when she pecks your lips goodbye. You finally open the door for her then, and the brunette casts you one last look before walking out of your office. You watch her walk away until she is out of your field of vision before returning to work at your desk. And for the rest of the evening, you have a silly smile on your face.

Part 3