#please claim if you made the edit on the phone

[froggayzfartz]

Stimmin hard off my lil pikachu and this beautiful edit so i edited it again naturally

[tlou-reid]

Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal

♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all

♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.

These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.

But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.

You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.

So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.

You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.

However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.

“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.

He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.

You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.

“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.

However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”

With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?

He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.

Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.

The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.

This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.

The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.

As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.

“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.

You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.

“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.

“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”

Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.

You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”

There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”

While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.

“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.

After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.

Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.

Until you opened your door Saturday morning.

You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.

The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.

“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.

“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.

“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.

You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.

So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.

However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.

You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.

Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.

So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.

Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.

You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.

The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.

You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.

You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.

As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.

You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.

You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.

You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.

Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.

Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.

“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.

“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.

“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.

“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.

“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.

“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.

“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”

You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.

The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”

“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse that.

[navybrat817]

Any chance we can see Winter and Kisa? 🥺

I owe them a proper one-shot, nonnie, but I may have a little something to hold you over.

Almost Like Home

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Word Count: Over 1.6k

Warnings: Tension, longing, pet names, possessive behavior, slight obsessive behavior, conflicted reader, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Winter and Kisa. That okay, lovelies? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo . Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Arguing with Bucky to let you go back to your place was pointless today and you were too exhausted to try. Being sleepy was how you justified following him to his bedroom, your footsteps gently echoing in the hall. You took in your surroundings and tried to reason that it was out of curiosity and to stay alert, not because this would be your home one day. Even if he said it would be.

You’d take a quick nap and be on your way, right?

“You sure I can't carry you in?” Bucky offered as he stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, sneaking a glance at you over your shoulder.

He trusted you enough to have his back to you.

“Don’t you dare,” you said without a hint of malice, biting your lip when he smiled and opened the door to let you go in.

“Worth a shot.”

The rays from the sunset seeped in through the window curtain before Bucky turned the light on. The bedroom was beautiful, as expected, with a king-sized bed, a chair near the balcony, and a fireplace. You imagined him sitting and reading after a long day. But the vanity didn't appear to be his style at all.

It looked like something that belonged in your room.

Bucky didn't attempt to move toward you as you met his all-consuming gaze, which somehow made the tension grow. It would’ve been easy to drag him to his bed or let him shove you down and make you his the way he claimed you were. But one taste wouldn't be enough for either of you.

“As much as I'd love to see you in my clothes,” he said to break the silence, gesturing to a door along the wall. “You might find something more to your liking in there on the right side.”

“I can't sleep in this?”

He dragged his lip along his teeth and shook his head. “The bastard who hit you may not have touched your clothes, but I’d sooner burn them before they touch my bed.”

“Possessive bastard,” you muttered, part of you liking it.

His watchful eyes followed as you crossed the room and opened the door, your mouth falling open as you looked around. The closet was larger than your apartment living room. To the left were suits, shoes, watches, and more that clearly belonged to the mobster. But to the right…

Your heart raced as you walked over and pushed through the clothes, something heavy settling in your stomach when you realized they were all your size. Not only that, they were designs and styles you wore and liked. Many of which you'd never be able to afford, let alone have the pleasure of feeling the fabric under your fingertips. You had long accepted that working for a living would never give you a life of luxury.

There weren't many times in life where you had the rug pulled out from under you, but this was something else entirely.

“What is this?” You whispered, turning toward Bucky as he strode through the door.

“Your closet. Well, our closet. You like it?” He answered, pride in his eyes as he glanced at your side. “I figured you could look at some of the shoes and jewelry after you get some rest. And you’ll love the lingerie almost as much as I will.”

You took a deep breath. And another. It did little to calm you down. “Bucky. I am not your girlfriend and I sure as hell don't live here, so why do you have half of your closet set aside for me?” You demanded.

Bucky lifted a shoulder, unbothered by the fury and touch of sadness that simmered in your eyes. “Girlfriend isn't really a title I want you to have. Wife and my queen, yes. Those will do. And you will live here, so I had to make sure you have clothes,” he said as his eyes bore into yours. “Though I don't mind if you'd rather walk around without wearing anything.”

Your face heated up as he stepped toward you and you wished you could ignore the throbbing between your legs. “You're delusional,” you stated.

He chuckled low, the sound sending more heat through your traitorous body. “No, Kisa. Not delusional. Prepared and excited, but not delusional.”

You scoffed, trying to cover up your arousal. Why did he put more into obtaining you than any other guy who crossed your path before? “Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night, Winter.”

“I'll sleep much better when you're beside me.”

The softness in his voice surprised you, like you sleeping beside him would bring him some sort of comfort as well as satisfaction. “You say that like it's a sure thing.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as he smirked, all confidence and swagger. “Oh, you and I both know I always end up getting what I want.”

But what if he stopped wanting you one day?

Your back was against the wall, nowhere to go as he took another step forward. “You can't have me.”

The words sounded empty and you both knew it. “And why is that?” He asked.

“Because I can't let you have me,” you answered, pausing as your gaze shifted away from him. You almost regretted the next words that slipped out of your mouth. “You cloud my judgment.”

The admission didn't lift the weight from your chest because it didn't change anything. At the end of the day, Bucky would continue to do terrible things and you wouldn't bring him to justice. You couldn't bring yourself to do so. Yet you brought others in.

How many times could you justify letting Bucky roam free because he had a heart beneath the surface?

You willed your knees to keep you upright when he rolled his sleeves up more and smugly smiled. “Is that so? Hmm, I like the idea that you can't think straight around me.”

You held up a hand when he moved closer, as if it would stop him. “Don't let it go to your head. My job comes first. You know that.”

He grasped your wrist and brought it to his mouth, his lips barely grazing your skin. The spark between you continued to ignite when his tongue darted out. “Well, if I had it my way you'd come first every single time.”

The breath left your lungs in a rush. “Bucky, please,” you whispered, hating how weak you sounded when his scruff touched your skin.

He hummed as he pressed his lips against your pulse. “That's one of the things I imagine you saying before you come.”

You didn't rip your hand away, enjoying the attention far more than you should have. “You're being ridiculous. You know we can't do this.”

“No, I don't know that. Though you keep saying we shouldn't,” he said, taking your hand and placing it over your head against the wall. His grip didn't hurt. You almost wished it did so you'd have more of a reason to fight. “Maybe you're the delusional one.”

“Maybe I am a little,” you said, tears pricking your eyes. “Because I've crossed the line enough by not bringing you in.”

Maybe your hands weren't as dirty as his, but they sure as hell weren't clean.

A sympathetic smile tugged at his lips. “Because you want me and want to be with me.”

His eyes traced along your face as your breathing got heavier. You didn't object or deny him. Doing so would be a lie and wasn't life clouded enough with too many of those? But to speak the truth would be to lose a part of yourself.

“It doesn't matter. When the chase ends, you’ll stop wanting me,” you said, his brows furrowing when your voice cracked.

Because the game would be over and why would he want to play again? How much of you would he take with him? What would be left in the wake of his victory?

His fingertips ran along your sore cheek and brushed away a tear that fell. “The chase will end because you’ll be by my side, but it doesn't stop there. I’m still going to court you and show you every day why I’m nothing without you.”

Tilting your head, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. The same way he had in his den. Would it be so wrong to let him seduce you further? “But you have the world,” you whispered.

“You are my world,” he whispered back before he pulled away and released your hand, your body suddenly cold. Your breaths felt shallow as he ran a hand through his hair and he still hadn’t kissed your lips. He looked like he was restraining himself as well. “Those aren't just pretty words. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you, Kisa. Starting with the man who hurt you.”

The resolve in his eyes before he turned and walked away tugged at your heartstrings. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

He stopped in the doorway with a sigh, but didn't face you. “I told you I can't let it go,” he said, grunting as he flexed his fingers. “But I'll try not to kill him.”

You couldn't ask for more than that. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said sincerely, pushing yourself away from the wall. “But you really don't have to do anything to him in order to prove something to me.”

His blue eyes lit up with purpose when he looked back at you. “No one hurts someone I love and gets away with it,” he said, leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

Because what were you really afraid of?

That Bucky Barnes loved you or that you maybe loved him, too?

UGH. I love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[glitterquadricorn]

Look What You Made Me Do - MV1

+summary: The couple was once thought to be the modern-day Romeo and Juliet (minus the unaliving part). Where you saw her, Max was not too far behind and vice versa. And despite his father's insistence to stay from her, he simply couldn't. He was enthralled by her and her persistence on the track. Together, they rose through the ranks and found themselves to be teammates in Formula one. But their story turns sour when Max betrays her in the worst way possible. +pairing: Max Verstappen x F1!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions the p*quets, curse words, hate comments, poorly edited. If i missed something, let me know.

face claim: Florence Pugh

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Her phone constantly vibrated against the glass coffee table of Max and Her's home. People were mentioning her in a tweet made from one of those wag accounts saying that Max was spotted with another woman that wasn't her and that he could be cheating. 'Max wouldn't cheat on me, right?' she thought to herself. Although, she remembered he had been acting rather weird lately. But him acting weird could mean anything.

The sound of the front door opening and closing and keys hitting the ceramic bowl alerted her that Max was home. Her eyes went straight to the bright orange bag in his hand. The same bright orange bag from the picture in the tweet.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Schatz?" Max hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He smelled like her.

"Thinking about what to make for dinner. Anything in particular?"

"I was thinking we could get takeout."

"Sounds good." She watched as Max turned towards their bedroom and tucked neatly into the collar of his shirt, which was a redbull shirt no shock there, was a semi dark hickey. A hickey she knew she didn't put there. Maybe that one tweet was right.

Dinner that night was a silent affair. The question of rather or not he was actually cheating weighed heavily on her mind. One half of her was being completely ignorant and believing Max would never do such a thing. The other half, the rational half, are putting the pieces together and ringing the alarm bells and are practically shouting from the rooftops that he is most definitely cheating. It was getting to be too much for her.

"Are you cheating on me?"

Max began choking on the water in his mouth. "What? Are you crazy? Where are you even getting this from?"

"It's just- I kept getting tagged in that one tweet-"

"And you believe it? You know those kinds of accounts make stuff up."

"Never said I did, Max," she said. "But explain the orange shopping bag, or how you got that hickey on your neck, or how you smell like none of the perfumes I have."

"I don't have to deal with this." Max stood up from the table and y/n followed after him.

"So, they're true?"

"Y/n, I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Well, that's just too damn bad. We're talking about this now because If we don't it won't get talked about at all."

Max faced her, his body shaking with anger. "Fine! Yes, I did cheat on you. Is that what you wanted to hear? How you weren't good enough and will never be good enough for me? How you'll never be good enough for anyone? How sometimes I can't fucking stand you to be around you? You. are. insufferable."

Her eyes started to fill with tears. In all the years she's known Max, he's never not once gotten this mad nor has he ever been this hateful. As if he realized what he's said, he began to apologize profusely.

"I'm so, so sorry, Schatz." Max tried to come closer to comfort her, but she stepped away.

"Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Max. I'll uh get out of your hair."

"Y/n, please-"

"No amount of apologizing will ever make me forget what you said. You were the love of my life, the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with."

"But we can still have that!"

"It's rather funny you're trying to save a relationship you destroyed," she chuckled loudly at Max's audacity. "Tell me, how long have you been cheating? And be honest, I deserve that much."

With his head hung low in shame, he mumbled, "Nearly a year."

"Unbelievable."

Before heading off to their bedroom to pack some clothes, she looked at the man she once loved. "You know, I've dealt with a lot in my life. I've traveled the world seeing it in a whole new light while doing what I loved, been in a crash or two that was painful, seen and experienced things I didn't think I'd be able to experience, but this... this hurts the most."

Once she left the house, she got in her car and tapped on her lawyer's number, texting him.

I don't care how you do it, but just get me out my redbull contract. DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS.

yourinstagram(left) and maxverstappen1(right) . 2hrs ago

yourinstagram

liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, pierregasly and 932,312 others.

yourinstagram: Mama Tay once said don't get sad, get even 💅🏻💋#newsponsor #newthingsarecoming

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taylorswift I taught you well young grasshopper. liked by yourinstagram

lilymhe where are you going dressed like that? cause damn. ⤷ yourinstagram sponsorship meeting with a new sponsor.

user1 you want to explain that second picture?

user2 looking respectfully.

user3 new things coming? what's that supposed to mean? ⤷ user4 she did say she got a new sponsor and I assume it's with Chanel. ⤷ user5 I can't help but think the whole new things coming means something else.

pierregasly 👀👀 ⤷ yourinstagram just taking lessons from you.

francisca.cgomes are you single? ⤷ yourinstagram why yes, I am. you asking me out on a date? ⤷ francisca.cgomes of course! ⤷ pierregasly I'm right here you know. ⤷ yourinstagram I'll make sure to have her home before midnight 😉

user6 not y/n flirting with pierre's girlfriend 🤣

For half an hour, she sat on the couch listening to Lando, Logan, Charles and Pierre answer questions about their summer break, their hopes for the second half of the season and what they want for their teams/cars. Not one question came her way, and she was happy about that. She hated doing media with a passion. She could understand they had bills to pay, families to support, but if she could get away with not doing any kind of media without being fined for it, she'd happily do it.

Just when she thought she'd have an easy day, a reporter she was familiar with, one she has had problems with since her debut in 2021, raised her hand.

"Mackenzie Smith, Espn. I have a question for you, y/n," she smiled. "Over the summer break there was a rumor going around saying you were leaving redbull at the end of the season. Is that true? Can you maybe give some insight on that?"

It's an innocent question to ask, but knowing Mackenzie, she'll somehow go off topic and ask questions she has no business asking about.

"Accounts like that always make up some of the most ridiculous things for clicks. Unfortunately, people believe it and until me, or my agent confirms it, then it's just that. A rumor."

Mackenzie huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. But if there's something about Mackenzie everyone should know, is she has a habit of asking rather intrusive questions she has no business asking. "Your relationship with fellow driver, Max Verstappen, ended over the summer break as well."

"My relationship, or lack thereof, is not yours or anyone's business. End of discussion."

"But he-"

"Yeah, and I said end of discussion. What part of that did you not understand?" she paused. "Now, does anyone have any other questions? No? Okay."

She sat the microphone down beside her and walked out the room. Was she going to get lectured by her PR manager? Yeah. Was she going to be fined for walking out? Probably. But she didn't care and if there was one thing she knew she didn't have to sit there and be questioned about her personal life.

porscheformula1team

liked by yourinstagram, mickschumacher, and 1,253,549 others.

porscheformula1team: Come meet our drivers! Mick, who is returning to the f1 grid after missing out on the 2023 season and Y/n, who finished 2nd in the drivers' standings. The future for Porsche looks bright!

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yourinstagram Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Porsche. ⤷porscheformula1team: No, thank you for taking the risk and signing with us.

mickschumacher It's good to be back in formula one.

user7 while I am excited for Mick to be back, I just think y/n is a backstabber for leaving a team that pretty built her entire career. ⤷user6 did you honestly think y/n would stick around after Max cheated on her?

user8 this is the best thing to wake up to!

user9 redbull was holding y/n back, so it's a good thing she left.

user10 future wdc winners? liked by mickschumacher, yourinstagram,porscheformula1team

user11 best driver's pairing in f1 liked by porscheformula1team

user12 signing these two was the biggest mistake Porsche ever made. ⤷porscheformula1team we beg to differ. ⤷user13 Porsche defending mick and y/n 🥰🤗

Max Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? When did you even sign with porsche?

Y/N Didn't know I was obligated to tell you I was leaving. I signed back in August after I got that Chanel sponsor.

Max YOU SIGNED BACK IN AUGUST?! WTF

Y/N I move fast just like you.

Max What's that supposed to mean?

Y/N It means you're okay with getting into a relationship with Kelly 2 weeks after we broke up.

Max You're being childish, y/n.

Y/N Did you really think I'd stay after you cheated? In 2024, you better get used to being behind me because that WDC is mine.

Don't let this flop. I worked real hard on it.

ALL PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST AND CREDIT TO THE OWNERS.

Tagging:

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[winterrrnight]

there’d better be a mirrorball

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you couldn’t attend senior prom, so your boyfriend bought the prom to you.

WARNINGS: mentions of puking and food poisoning, sweetheart rafe, usage of nicknames, intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: huge huge thank you to miss @zyafics who had to see my poorly edited photo of a terrace and helped me figure out that it’s called a ‘gazebo’, except that picture didn’t actually have a gazebo in it (I’m sorry I’m so bad at explaining shit 😭) but yeah zya you’re a real one ilysm 💙🌟

if you liked reading this please consider reblogging! feedback is always appreciated 🪩

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it was the saddest day of your life.

you went to sleep all excited, your dress laid out, your shoes right next to the dress, your jewelry picked out, a clear image of your make up look in your head; just for you to wake up and do the last thing you’d expect for that day: puke.

your puke was unceremoniously cleaned up by your mom, who when touched her hand to your forehead, claimed that you were burning up. when you tried to speak, your voice barely came out – it was hoarse and heavy. and it was even worse when you couldn’t stand on your own two feet for a few moments before starting to feel an intense body ache that had you flopping back onto your bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you should go to prom today–”

“no!” came out your rough voice, tears starting to blur your vision as you took a look at your perfectly arranged dress and accessories for the coming night. your mom couldn’t bear to see the sight but she had to exercise her never expiring mom card and made you miss the prom.

you were laying in your bed, your curtains drawn and the lights turned off to not let any harsh lighting pulsate your already throbbing headache even more than before. you had called your boyfriend rafe and had given him the unbearing news of you not being able to attend prom because of your horrible health – which was concluded as food poisoning by your mother – and he felt his heart shatter with the news.

rafe, who was never interested in prom before, was looking forward to that night because you were his date. you made his decision regarding proms flip to a total 180 and convinced him on how fun it would actually be, and now what? now, you can’t go, you: the light to the dark side of his moon.

“then that’s simple, I’m not going either,” came his voice through your microphone. you groaned for what felt like the millionth time, and shook your head.

“you are going rafe,” you said, your voice clearing up just a bit thanks to those sharp tasting lozenges your mother dumped into your mouth. “okay? you are going. the rest of our friends are going to be there, and it’s the senior prom! you are going, and that’s final.”

damn. even when you’re lying sick in your bed, you still have your control over him.

rafe reluctantly agreed to go to the prom, but before he went there, he stopped by at your place to check up on you. he brought you some fresh flowers and put them in a vase to sit in your room.

“when I come back, I’m coming straight to you, okay?” he murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, not listening to your whines on how he shouldn’t kiss you because you were sick.

the hours passed, and you made a quick scroll through your social media – something which you knew you shouldn’t. there were already a gazillion pictures and short videos from the evening, everyone dressed up in fancy fabrics from head to toe, jewelry gleaming on their ears and necks, and familiar pop music played in the background. you sighed, feeling yourself getting more and more sad and left out as you practically threw your phone aside, and decided to just nap to get your mind off of it.

you were woken up by your name spoken by an all too familiar melodious voice, and a soft nudge to your shoulder.

“wake up baby…” you heard in your ear. you opened your eyes and were met with rafe’s bright blue ones. his blazer had come off and was hanging on his shoulder, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“yeah?” you muttered as you rubbed your eyes and sat up.

“come on, I want to take you somewhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched you awaken.

“take me where?” you asked and without any questions, you followed rafe’s lead, who helped you to your feet and helped you put on your shoes. he draped his blazer over your shoulders and took your hand, leading you out of your room.

“just come with me, you’ll love it,” he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. you lived only a few doors down from tannyhill, and rafe kept you well tucked under his arm as he kept up with your slower pace of walking than usual and led you to his place.

he led you inside the huge mansion, and when he saw how tired your body had gotten from the walking, he carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs, all the way up to the terrace.

“now…” he hummed as he set you down, both of you standing right outside the closed door of the terrace. “i’m going to cover your eyes, okay?” he said softly, and when he saw you didn’t interject, he covered your eyes with his fingers. he opened the door and carefully led you out to the terrace.

“i’ll lift my hands in 3… 2… 1…”

at 1, his hands came off and you were greeted with a sight that made you gasp.

multiple strings of golden fairy lights hung all around the terrace, a record player spun in a corner, a table was covered with drinks, chocolates and other little treats, and to your right, right under the wooden gazebo, was a mirrorball.

a mirrorball hung right from the center of the gazebo, spinning slowly and slowly as it reflected silver light in different directions, producing a complex display. you gasped at the sight, the spherical object rotating and momentarily reflecting across you, the reflections mere spheres that appeared and disappeared on your body at different parts each time.

“rafe…” you muttered, and you felt his arms wrap around your waist from the back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“this is our prom baby,” you whispered in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

“when… when did you even do this?” you whispered, still in awe from the entire decoration.

“I came back from prom early, it was extremely boring without you,” he murmured. “couldn’t stand being there without my pretty girl,”

you turned around in rafe’s hold to face him. “this… this is so beautiful…” you whispered, looking in his twinkling eyes. you wanted to say more, you really did, but you were falling short of words because you were still trying to recover from the surprise.

“not as beautiful as you baby,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you broke into a smile. he can be so cheesy.

“now come on, I believe you owe me a dance,” he grinned as he walked up to the record player. he changed the vinyl spinning and you watched him curiously, but all curiosity washed away when you heard the gentle instrumentals of there’d better be a mirrorball fill the space around you.

he walked back to you with a cheeky grin and took your hand in his, leading you to the gazebo where you both stood right under the mirrorball. he took your hands in his and brought you closer to him, placing your arms around his neck and placing his around your waist, and starting to sway you gently to the music.

you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he kept you close in your arms, both of your eyes fluttered shut as you gently swayed to the music, taking in the moment.

“I love you,” you heard the faint sound of rafe’s voice in your ear. you felt your heart thump at his words, a soft smile forming on your face.

“I love you just as much,” you whispered back, burying your face in his neck. he smiled softly at your words, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to sway you both.

by the end of the night, you had completely forgotten you had to miss prom.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @sage-burrow @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

[thecapricunt1616]

BlueBell (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): When Mikey killed himself.. it was easy to say you were a mess. Mikey was the one who coaxed you through Carmys leaving, letting you know it was ok, that he was just ‘bein’ a lil’ bitch’ and he’d come to his senses soon enough. But he didn’t. And Mikey got sicker. And no matter how much you tried, how many times you called Carmy after a hard shift, or after stumbling into Mikey in the back freezer with a fucking disposable tourniquet tied around his arm, nodding off, begging Carmy to come home through your tears. Pleading, sobbing into the phone for minutes at a time that his brother was fucking killing himself - you never got a call back. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Bluebell - Luck, truth and friendship. Incorporate into rituals to comfort those left behind and ease their sorrow. ♡ Summary: Your childhood best friend comes back to Chicago to take over the restaurant that had caused a rift in your friendship, and wants to make it better. ♡ W/C: 4.6K ♡ Posted Date: 05/26/2024 ♡ A/N: Heyyyyy!! Here is my technically second request for my 200 follower celebration that can be found ♡ Here ♡ based on this request from an anon :) please get your requests in folks! This celebration will be running Today (05/26/24) to next Sunday 06/02/24! I am still working on my first request (First date w/ Carmy) the writing bug just bit me in the butt for this one and I haven't ever written for childhood best friend Carmy it was very fun!!! Anyhoot- I hope you enjoy :D ♡ Warnings for BTC: Angsty (but comfort too!) Not edited, No use of y/n (reader is referred to as 'squish'), No use of skin colors / descriptions for reader (pics are for purely vibes!), Typical TW's that come w/ TB (speaking of suicide and all that), reader feels nauseous but never throws up!oh and not all that edited woopsieee haha sorry yall know the drill btp

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had known Carmy a long time. Too long, was what you’d have said when he first moved back to Chicago. He kept in touch with you up until he left, and then it was simply every time your google search alert went off, you got a warmth in your chest knowing he’d accomplished something else. 

It felt strange, not talking to him every day. You'd had a huge fight before he’d ran off to Paris all alone. That was what baffled you, Carmy and alone - didn’t go in the same sentence usually. All middle school, all high school - he was glued to your side. Any time he needed a new assignment because he lost his, you’d go up for him and ask the teacher for a new one. When he needed to return an overdue library book, you’d face the librarian, claiming he’d forgot it at your house and you were too lazy to bring it in until then. Even going up in the fucking lunch line - he literally gave you his lunch pin so he didn’t have to face anyone unnessisarily. 

He’d meet you in the back of the football bleachers, cigarette between his lips that he’d throw out as soon as he saw you (he took to heart how you despised the habit- and he strongly disliked disappointing you) but with a mother, older brother, father, and older sister that smoked nearly a pack a day? He was doomed to pick it up himself. 

“I heard this mornin’ it was-“ 

“Chicken patty’s” you grimace handing him over the foil covered sandwich. “I didn’t get the fries - the geese are gonna have heart failure cus’a’you” you teased, opening your own and digging the 6 crumpled ketchup packets from your pocket, handing him 2 (you got the extra to wolf down the public school garbage because you made the walk up to the line, and all the way outside for him) 

“They deserve a little happiness y’know?! N-no worse than bread- vegetables are healthy!” He teased, taking the sandwich and muttering a little “Ugh” as he unwrapped it and smeared the 2 packets under the bun before closing it. “After school you wanna go T-T’the restaurant w’me?” He took a big bite. It was shit but it was something that got us through the grueling, sticky Chicago spring schoolday. 

“Mmhm” you hummed “parents outta town- Y’can sleep over if you want after. “ you nudge his hip with your own playfully. He’d been content with staying home lately, for whatever reason, but you wanted your Carmy time back. You’d figured you’d give it one more try 

“Uh-“ he started and you took a deep breath, eyes fixed on your dirty old black and white converse “N-Nat needs help w-with-“ 

“Save it” you snip, leaning against the bleachers and staring out at the pond next to the soccer field. He’d been doing this for the past months, when he used to be at your house every day, making up stupid games together and showing you how to cook his family's favorite recipes- lately, he’d just been going straight home after school and didn’t tell you why. 

“H-Hey-“ he reached out, touching your arm gently and you jerked it away. While his touch used to be comforting, now it felt like it burnt. You’d been having a crush on him for years and it felt like the ultimate knife to the gut he couldn’t see it, and didn’t reciprocate it. It hurt even worse it felt like your best friend in the whole wide world (and your only friend) had recently started ignoring you.

“Just don’t, Carmen.” You muttered, taking another bite of your sandwich. “Gotta get t’health.” You said after a few beats of silence, heading back to the school. It was one of the 2 classes once a week you didn’t have together due to your last names, and usually the worst periods of the week. But this time, it felt like a relief. 

That was the last time you’d ever met him for lunch. 3 months before the end of your senior year, and 7 years of being attached at the hip somehow fizzled to nothing more then longing glances in the hallway, and staring eachother down at graduation. 

Your mom and dad were ultimately confused when you told them you wanted to leave as soon as you’d walked the stage, not caring in the least to go to Carmys grad party - and that confused them even more. It just turned into a bratty screaming match started by your teen self, telling them how they had to ‘butt out of your life’ and to ‘Mind their own stupid business!!!’ Even though they were just concerned you were now completely ignoring the boy they had taken in as a son, and were giving him the cold shoulder when since the sixth grade the two of you had been nothing short of inseparable. 

Then - when you had started working at The Beef - as a favor for Mikey, when he had called - asking if you needed a job your first summer off from college, of course you said yes. And then Carmy took that news…. Worse then you could have ever thought. 

The fight you had the night he’d found out in the back alley of The Beef was burned into your memory since it happened. The angry accusations of you ‘having a crush on his older brother and wanting to fuck him since you were in school’ or ‘trying to weasel your way back into his life when he’d made it clear he hated that you were so ‘obsessed’ with him’ it had literally made you throw up in frustration and sadness and utter disbelief when he stomped off, face red and veins bulging in anger. 

The 5 words though that were seared into your brain ‘How fucking could you?, squish?!’ nearly choking on your childhood name, Tears streaming down his flushed pink cheeks. You never knew it would hurt him so badly that you worked at The Beef, you truly thought you were just doing a good favor for a man who was a big brother to you. Not betraying your best friend in the world, the boy you’d loved for so many years. 

You’d tried calling Carmy, only to be met with the generic voicemail message each and every time. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you wished him well, told him how much you missed him, missed your stupid inside jokes - you missed your bear. 

When Mikey killed himself.. it was easy to say you were a mess. Mikey was the one who coaxed you through Carmys leaving, letting you know it was ok, that he was just ‘bein’ a lil’ bitch’ and he’d come to his senses soon enough. But he didn’t. And Mikey got sicker. And no matter how much you tried, how many times you called Carmy after a hard shift, or after stumbling into Mikey in the back freezer with a fucking disposable tourniquet tied around his arm, nodding off, begging Carmy to come home through your tears. Pleading, sobbing into the phone for minutes at a time that his brother was fucking killing himself - you never got a call back. 

The day Carmy had come home, well - the day he started working at the beef. You were there early, per usual. You liked the 6-3:30 shift as you were out before the busiest time of day, and had maintained this shift since college. You had your degrees, you were going to be leaving after you’d graduated to start a real adult life instead of slinging stupid beef sandwiches for less-than-favorable pay - and then Mikey died. And you were the only one who knew how to do the books at the beef, before you taught Natalie. 

It wasn’t a surprise that Mikey was laundering money through the place, but what was a surprise was he left the place to his idiot little brother who’d abandoned his whole entire family to go do his stupid Executive chef-de-bullshit while everyone drowns in Chicago without him. You highly doubted that he would be able to manage the moving of money Mikey had taught you, but Nat was the only sister you’d ever known- so when she sobbed to you after mike died and she found out it was left to Carmy, and begged you to teach him how everything works- you couldn’t deny your big sis.  

“S-squish?” You heard behind you, and you nearly dropped the entire pan of beef you’d chopped into the large pan you were holding to marinate for the day. Your heart felt like it had been replaced with a hummingbird and its wings were beating so hard against your chest you were sure if you turned he would see it in your throat.

“Uh-“ you started, deciding it was better to not look at him, since tears would likely spring to your eyes. What did he look like in real life now? Was he really so…big? Was he really no longer that skinny, awkward little bear you once knew? “N-no one really calls me that- anymore…only Richie.” You grabbed the bowl of pre chopped onions that you’d grabbed from the fridge, tearing off the plastic wrap that had yesterdays date written on it, crumpling it up and dumping the vegetables over the meat before grabbing the bowl of chopped green peppers and doing the same. 

“So I can’t call y’the name I gave you?” He chides, that old edge of playfulness to his tone you missed so much. It made your heart clench. 

“The last person to use that regular was your brother” you said and that quickly shut him up as you mixed together the meat and veggies with a large spoon after adding the pre made spice mix, the last of the pre made spice mix that Mikey had left, tears brimming your eyes at the realization, shaking your head a bit hoping to will them away. 

“Fuck” he said, barely audible. There was a sadness to his tone, easily picked up by you. This was your first love. How could you not remember every single thing about him?! “Squish I’m-“ 

“Just save it. You’re here to work, right?” You looked back at him finally, and your breath nearly got caught in your throat. He was so… tall. You always teased him that he was just a late bloomer, and would grow into himself just like Mikey did - but he would constantly deny it and tell you he’d just be stuck being ‘a shrimp’ forever.

But fuck had he grown. And he has grown well. He finally grew into his nose, which you wanted to immediately poke fun at him for, his lips were still the same pouty thin ones you’d remembered - but his body. It made your mouth water. 

You’d seen it once, as he’d seen yours. You were sophomores in high school, awkward, fumbling teens that agreed to lose your virginity together. But back then he was lanky, hairless, soft. Now? He was a full grown man. 

“Mmhmm” he hummed, sounding like a child scolded but you could barely recognize the tone of his voice now that you’ve met his face. A man. 

“Carmen” you said softly and his eyes met yours again, recognizing the tears in them 

“Don’t cry, squish” he said just above a whisper, “M’sorry…” he admitted, carefully reaching up and thumbing away your tears. 

“Oh Carm” you broke down, dropping the spoon you were holding onto the bowl and practically collapsing into his arms in choked sobs. 

“I know” he said quietly, gently petting your hair just like he did when you were little. 

“He’s dead Carm, where were you? Where the fuck were you? I called you, Bear! He was sick!” you sobbed mercilessly into his shirt, letting everything out you held in at the funeral to maintain your cool for Donna and Sugar since they were blubbering messes.. You could hear the thick tears in his voice when he whispered a strained 

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Squishy- So sorry” 

Your little moment was interrupted though, by a small voice - 

“Hi! Hey- uh..Hello- sorry- I was um…I got a call - yesterday, about an interview, for an um- a Sous position?” your head shot up from Carmys shoulder, seeing a tall brown-skinned girl with braids smiling awkwardly,  eyes flickering between you and Carm, clearly looking uncomfortable. You would be too, you realized - if you walked in to your supposed-to-be interview, to see your potential boss being cried on by one of his employees.

“Shit- uh” he pulled away quickly, walking up to her and extending a hand. You decided to go to the back of the kitchen to the changing area to have a few swigs from your water bottle and calm down. You didn’t need to relish in the sting that was him dropping you so fast for another girl, even if you were short staffed and you did need the help.

You shook your head, wiping over your tears and taking a few large gulps of water. Teach him how to move the money, and quit. Thats all you have to do, easy right? 

No.

Not at all, actually- fucking impossible. 

Carmen had been bad at math, horrible at it  - actually, so teaching him how to run the books - with Richies explicit instructions to not make him aware his Uncle and Brother were washing blood money through the restaurant - so to try and explain why the electric costed 120K a month for a hole in the wall like The Beef was getting frustrating, because when Carmy didn’t understand something- he asked never ending questions until he got it. Thats what had you and Carmy, sitting in the back office together at nearly 8 PM, going over the books for what felt like the millionth time.

“So - so the General electric, lets go over one more time squish - I’m still.. Why would Mike have done that? An-an’ why we payin f’r a system that y’say isn’t workin’ anymore? Cant we just like- negotiate? Ask uncle jimmy t’fix it?” he tapped his pencil on the desk absentmindedly as he looked over the spiral notebook you’d written the monthly ‘bills’ on, trying to explain it to him without giving away anything he didn’t need to know like Richie instructed.

You groaned, rubbing over your face frustratedly and rubbing your temples. He was gonna give you a migraine asking these same god-damn questions. “Bear- i’m tired- my shift ended like…four hours ago! I was supposed to be on a facetime date” you groan, dragging your hands down your cheeks dramatically.

“The hell is a facetime date?” he asked, that gigglyness in his voice he’d take on when he was making fun of you when you were little.

“You lost the privilege of fucking with me when you ran away” you look over at him, a frown unknowingly etched in your features.

He met your eyes, biting at his lip the way he did, blinking a few too many times as he looked down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I never was running from you, squish” he said, his voice taking on that softness you fucking hated because you loved it so much.

“Yeah? Sure fucking felt like it- and for your information, a facetime date is a date you do when someone isn’t close enough to go on a real date. So…yeah. Anyway- like I said - the arcade costs-” he cut you off

“So…where’s this guy live?” he questioned. “You really can’t date a guy in Chicago? Y’gotta go f’r long distance?” he asked, a little smirk on his face. The kind that would have had you wanting to crash your lips into his when you were teens, but now it just made you want to cry at all the lost time, what you could have been if you just told him you’d loved him that night, that the reason you accepted the job was so that hed fucking look at you again. 

“Why the fuck does it matter to you? You stopped giving a fuck about me - what, Tell me fancy pants CDC? How long has it been since you gave a fuck” You got up, grabbing your jacket. “Like I fucking said, Carmen, My shift ended hours ago. I’ve explained this to you multiple times. If you’re still too focused on Paris, or- or Copenhagen - Or fucking Noma- to not understand how to run your familys piece of shit? Isn’t that what you called it- huh? Why don’t you go and ask the fucking sibling you have left how to do it, yea? She’s been trying to call you, We all were- but it’s not like you give a fuck- like I said- figure it out, Bear- and consider this my formal fucking 2 weeks. I’m done in this shithole” you threw your wadded up apron at his chest and slammed the office door shut behind you, stomping off to the lockers to gather your things and go the hell home. 

The next week and a half of work felt much like high school. You and Carmy were in the same exact room, forced to work together most of the time - but not a word was exchanged that wasn't absolutely necessary between the two of you. It wasn’t until the night before your last day, he was brave enough to say something to you. It was after closing, you’d picked up a double since 2 line cooks had called out and you already knew how to hold up pace without any training. You could use the money anyway, the pay was absolute garbage - the only reason you ever put up with it was because Michael was family to you. “So uh…” Carmy starts as he put on his plaid coat, shoving his work clothes in his backpack “How was y’r um… facetime date?” he asked, shoving in his chefs clogs last before zipping the bag shut.

You bit your lip, continuing to fill your tote bag with the remainders from your locker. You wanted to just leave as soon as the clock struck 3:30 tomorrow and never look back, forget Carmen was ever a part of your life. Being around him again brought back that sharp ache deep in your chest that you’d picked up in school when you began ignoring eachother, for why? You cant even remember- other then him shrugging you off to hang out that one last time, and you ignoring him the rest of that week, and it just kept going. You realized the first you’d spoken since then was his first day back, and you couldn’t get that fact out of your head. 

“He never texted me back so- yeah” you folded up a pair of work jeans, shoving them in the bag

“Oh- shit- m’sorry, squish. Guys can be real assholes” he replied. And while you know it was supposed to be friendly and him just trying to console you, It really just pissed you off. 

“Yeah- You would know” you grate quietly, continuing to pack your bag. He frowned in that cure Carmy way, shutting his locker and putting his backpack on his shoulder. Luckily the two of you were the only ones there tonight, so no one had to be present for you unpleasant bickering.

“Are you ever gonna hear me out? Er’ you’re just gonna freeze me out forever?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine hurt. But you couldn’t help but laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Freeze you out? Freeze you out? Well if this week has been anything like the past few years? I hope it feels half as shit as I’ve felt. Glad you’re finally getting the message, I want nothing to do with you. I don’t stay where i’m not wanted, plus- aren’t I just a whore who took a job to make passes at your older brother- who by the fucking way was literally nearly 10 years older then us? That is just…gross Carmy! Mikey was as much an older brother, a fucking protector as he was to you, and to Nat- as he was to me- I loved you! I fucking loved you, Carmy! And you-” You took a shaking breath, turning to look at him and he was pale as a ghost at your admission.

“And you froze me out first, you- you stopped calling, in school carmen all those fucking years ago? You stopped, and - and when I didn’t come to the bleachers you didn’t try to find me! You just-” you met his eyes once again but couldn’t find them as they were squeezed shut and that 17 year old was right back in front of you, nervously shaking his hand and tears streaming down his cheeks. “Fuck- Bear I didn’t mean t-” 

“D-Don’t” he brushed past you, the familiar smell of smoke and pine and sandalwood hitting your nose, the same Cologne Mikey wore. 

“Carmy” you rushed after him as he made a b-line for the office. 

“You’re right, Squish- go home” he rasped, his voice thick with tears and regret. Your heart broke in that moment. Your chest also bubbled with anger, because - you were right?!

“I’m right?” you asked and he sniffled, attempting to shut the door on you but you shoved it open “Look at me - Look at me and fucking tell me that you meant what you said Carmen!” he sat at the desk, burrying his face in his hands and rubbing over it. 

“Just fuck off Squish! I mean it- go!” He was getting louder now, but there it was again, Squish.

“If you meant what you said- call me by my name” You challenge, nudging his sneaker to get his attention, just how you did when his head would be down in english class when he didn’t want to be noticed so he wasnt picked to read out loud.

“What?” he looked up at you finally, his big blue eyes red and tear stained, rims watery and long sandy colored lashes clinging to stray smaller tears. He looked so sad, and you thought again for the first time since he left that night all those years ago, that you wanted to kiss those tears away.

“You- you keep calling me squish” you shrug a bit “If you really mean what you said - if- if you think I got this job to whore around with Michael?! Call me by my real name. The name the rest of the staff call me- the name people who aren’t a fuckin’ Bear call me.” you challange, a lump growing in your throat as he stared you down.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, voice just barely above a whisper. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were pretty sure your heart was gonna fly out of your throat any second- or you were gonna throw up all over the floor and embarrass yourself - 50/50 

“You- you go first, I asked first” You said and he ran a hand through his hair, greasy from the day before digging in his pocket and pulling out a spare quarter 

“Heads er’ tails?” he asked, and you couldnt help but crack a tiny smile. This- this was normal. In high school, when you’d both ask eachother a question and neither wanted to answer first - even though technically the person who asked first should be the first to get an answer, you both decided to let the universe decide who’d be the first to get an answer.

“You gotta be kidding- you remember that?” You leaned on the desk and he looked up at you, panic mostly gone from his eyes and you knew you still had your bear-taming charm as Mikey called it when you were kids, since you were the only other person to be able to calm Carmy down.

“Are you kidding? I remember everything” he retorts “I call heads then” he flipped it and you gasp, smile growing a bit and you nudge his knee with yours, the gesture causing warmth to flood his cheeks as he flips the coin 

“I thought it’s always ladies first?” you teased and he flipped it on to his hand, keeping it covered. 

“Y’re too slow” he cracked a small smile, before revealing the quarter was heads side up and looking up at you expectantly. That heartbeat that could also be vomit reappeared, and your chest got tight. 

“Yes” you said simply, realizing you’d said loved - not love, not a current state of being, even though it never really went away. When he came back that first day, and you were right back to using all your old coded language and laughing over old jokes - you’d realized the love never really died, you’d just shoved it down as deep as it could go.

“Of course I didn’t mean that bullshit, Squish. I was….so fuckin stupid- I was - I am a fuckin idiot. I- I changed my fuckin number and I didn’t bother to load my contacts cause…I thought you hated me - But I- I never stopped…” he met your eyes again. 

Oh god, your heart was really coming out of your throat right now

“Never stopped….loving me? You- you loved me?” you asked bravely, feeling as if you might pass out - or die - or both if he said no. 

He nodded silently, his gaze fixed on the floor ever so shyly, Classic Carmy, the Cowardly Bear

“Well- which- which is it?” you asked, you weren’t going to let his shyness cheat you out of a real answer.

“I- um…I never stopped” he finally met your eyes.

You felt as if you still may pass out, or die, or both at this admission. 

Instead of that though, you leaned in, cupping his stubbly cheeks. His breath hitched, so did yours - you weren’t even sure you were breathing, the last time you’d been this close was - well, Sophomore year of high school , when you both vowed to never speak of it again, since you were both unsure how the other felt - and much too shy to say anything about it in case of rejection or being viewed as ‘weird’ by one another. You leaned in, the smell of cigarettes and mint on his breath from the gum he would chew instead of eating on meal breaks after a cigarette. 

His eyes fluttered shut “I’ve thought about this every day” he whispers, breath fanning your lips gently. You rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes and your noses bumped sweetly. “Can I please kiss you?” he asked, his voice soft and wanting. 

“You don’t have to ask” you said and leaned in, finally meeting his lips. He pulled you closer, you were practically on his lap. It felt as natural as falling into bed at the end of a long day moving your lips with his, your fingers easily finding his curls and combing out the little knots from the day, causing him to groan softly into your mouth. You smiled a bit, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

You sighed in relief as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slipping his tongue over your bottom lip, you hummed- opening for him and moaning softly as he ran his tongue over yours, enjoying your taste as well as you were enjoying his. He was the same as you remembered, you’d fantasized about doing this with him again every time you got off - or just every time you were daydreaming in general. You weren’t sure who broke the kiss first, but you both needed to breathe, so it was for the best.

“I still love you, too”

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken @bl4ckt00thgr1n

[pynkkkk]

mama's baby poses ❀༉‧₊˚.

hiiiii guysssssss! how are you?

this posepack i legit made in around 4 or 5 hours just because i had time to kill, AND i finished my whole case study for one of my classes. these poses have to be my absolute favorite of all time and i'm so proud of myself. i hope you like this and tag me if you use them! i love seeing people using my poses 🥹

thank you guys for supporting me! i have some loading screens coming up nexttttt ♡

for posing, you need...

     ❀ andrew's pose player OR wickedwhims for posing

     ❀ teleport any sim or mc command center for teleporting sims

for these poses, you need...

     ❀ left hand phone accessory

     ❀ any couch or chair (chairs might work)

note: clipping may occur with sims of different body types since a lot of these poses are really close.. lots of my poses will be! feel free to edit them to fit your sim's bodies whether or not they're for blender. ♡

certain poses are made for pictures to be taken at certain angles! refer to the pictures above for reference so you aren't confused! please let me know if anything isn't working correctly, and don't reupload my poses or claim them as yours!

thank you to my beautiful friends for testing these poses for me and allowing me to use their sims ☘︎˚.

if you don't already, you should follow my socials, most under the same handle: pynkpunks

thank you! ‧₊˚

dl adfree here ♡

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟎𝟐𝟑: 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊.  (  been a while since i last made one of these, mainly because life got in the way, but i finally have a new one for you all. this single muse template is primarily made with mobile phone users in mind - although i've made sure it looks nice enough on various devices - so i've kept it rather simple and clean with only a few pages: a landing page, rules, an about section with a dossier and a biography, and a verse page. the preview can be found here. since it uses less than fifty elements, this template is actually base account friendly. )

―  HOW TO USE

please don’t claim this as your own, and don’t delete the credit.  you can change it’s size or color but it should stay where it is.

of course, you can edit all the colors, sizes, fonts, etc. however you like.

to get this template please click here.  it’s on a pay what you want basis so it is possible to get it for free if you set the amount to 0.  ( if you’d like to leave a little tip i’d very much appreciate it, though. )

when you first open this template, it might look a little weird because carrd deletes the images i’ve used so there will only be empty spacers of sorts that may look a little out of place.  just upload images and this will fix itself.

actual image sizes don’t matter since carrd scales them to fit but you can see examples of the image sizes i’ve used in the demo to get an idea for the dimensions.  or just try your own and play around with the settings to get the desired outcome.

if you have any questions on how to edit it, just send me a message and i’ll try to explain it to you.

[simmireen]

I needed a few of these for my own story, but made this whole posepack live on instagram so it became a whole pack, so sharing as always because who knows you can use it too! ♥

'text message' 12 standing and sitting single poses with a phone ♥ DOWNLOAD (SFS) DOWNLOAD (Patreon) (always free!) You need the phone used here (ring category)

♥~♥ The poses work with Teleport any Sim and Andrew’s Pose Player The posepack is as usual provided with previews. These poses are somewhat gender-neutral, but there can be minor clipping or floating because every sim-body is different. I really would like to see if you use my poses! So tag me at tumblr, instagram or twitter (@simmireen) You can find an overview of all my posepacks at Pinterest You can support me on my Ko-Fi page > but never feel obliged to tip! Terms of use Don’t claim as yours or put behind a paywall Don’t re-edit (adjusting hands is always allowed, just don’t change up my pose) Don’t reupload anywhere Oh, and please let me know if something doesn’t work! @ts4-poses @sssvitlanz @alwaysfreecc

[cauldronblssd]

Morning edition -

Read on AO3

For @elucienweekofficial Day 7 - AU

Thank you to @panicatthenightcourt for helping me with a smutty idea for this fic! I hope you like it. 💚

The sound of claws scraping against the fabric of her headboard alerted Elain that her morning had begun. She groaned, covering her face with a pillow to drown out the sound of her cat’s insistent alarm letting her know that he was ready for breakfast. Faint sounds of morning traffic buzzed around her, another sign of the inevitability of the start of her day.  

Elain drowsily padded to the kitchen. She filled the coffeepot with grounds and water before turning her attention to her cat. Suri hopped up on the counter, circling her as she reached for a can of wet food, his paws tapping out a little dance. He nudged her hand with his soft cheek, urging her to move more quickly, as she popped open the putrid smelling can of wet food and dished it out onto a plate.  

The steady drip of the coffeepot began as she turned on the radio she’d bought for cheap at a thrift store. She’d rushed to buy it in excitement when her sister, Feyre, landed her first job at the station as an arts and culture reporter, insisting that it wasn’t enough to hear her voice over the online stream - she needed to hear it on a physical radio.  

Since, she’d grown into a habit of listening every morning, though her sister wouldn’t be on for another forty-five minutes. The familiar sound of her favorite news reporter filled the room, his voice smooth and low as he spoke of some bill to raise sales tax for the benefit of real estate developers.  

Generally, listening to the news would set her on edge, there rarely being anything good to say. But listening to the deep lull of his radio voice as he interviewed a city council person, serious and yet inviting, soothed her. It had become part of her morning routine, something that she looked forward to as surely as her cup of coffee. She’d tried to imagine him, from time to time, as equally handsome to match his deep velvet voice. However, whenever she tried, she remembered the droll dinner she’d been to with Feyre’s boss, a man probably four decades her senior, wearing penny loafers. She’d liked him all the same, and he’d sent her free tickets to a local jazz festival.  

Elain continued to listen absently as she drank her cup of coffee and watered the myriad of plants lining the windowsill of her kitchen. Every room of her house had a few, but her kitchen got the most sunlight, something she took advantage of by something placing green and growing on every available surface.  

She looked in her fridge, unfortunately empty of food after hosting her sisters and their friends for a movie night earlier in the week. Nesta and Emerie had been training for a marathon, and needed a constant intake of carbs to make up for it – or so they claimed as they scarfed down everything in her apartment. Her phone made a vibrating noise against the hard linoleum of her counters.  

Feyre: Good morning 😇  Elain: ...  Feyre: What, no good morning for your little sister?  Elain: How good the morning is depends on what you want, Fey  Feyre: Would you pretty, pretty please bring me a coffee at the studio?   Elain: Doesn't your work have coffee?   Feyre: Yeah and it’s very economical and tastes terrible. This is PUBLIC radio.   Elain: Isn’t your workday over in a couple hours anyway?   Feyre: Yes, but I have a date after work...  Elain: With that rich guy?   Feyre: Rhys!   Feyre: Please he’s so hot and I don’t want to fall asleep and drool.   Feyre: He’s taking me to the opera and he’s got box seats.   Elain: FINE but you’re taking me to the craft festival this weekend.  Elain: And you’re buying my beer.  Feyre: DEAL  Feyre: Iced oat-milk latte with extra foam pls 

Elain shook her head, setting her phone back down to hop in the shower. After visiting Feyre, she planned to visit the community gardens. She had a small plot with some lettuce and cucumbers growing that would need watering and her flower bed would need weeding. With that in mind, she threw on a pair of denim shorts and a loose t-shirt. She braided her hair back away from her face in hopes of keeping the dirt out of it. It wasn’t much, but she planned to just run into bring her sister the coffee and get out as quickly as possible before the afternoon sun started to kick in. Chucking on her sneakers, she grabbed her keys to head out of the house, giving Suri one last kiss on the head.  

Elain walked to the coffee shop near her house after stopping to talk to her elderly neighbor, Pam, who liked to have her morning coffee on her porch steps and chat with anyone that passed. She tended to talk for too long, but Elain didn’t mind listening. After growing up with Nesta and Feyre, she felt used to it. After hitting the walk sign at all three intersections she had to cross to get to Scythia, Elain had decided it was her lucky day.  

Elain popped open the glass door, entering the air-conditioned chill. She immediately spotted the familiar vibrant red hair of Vassa as she stepped inside. Vassa always changed her appearance, and she currently had it cut into what she assured Elain was a trendy mullet - short on the top with longer strands in the back that reached the base of her neck. Her arms, covered in brightly colored tattoos, flexed as she tamped down on some espresso.  

The room was loud, between the music Jurian always had blaring over the speakers, the screeching sounds of steaming milk, and the chatter of people seated at the tables throughout the shop. At the back, Jurian perched on their brightly colored pink couch as he crouched over a laptop screen in front of him, paperwork piled to the side. She offered him a friendly wave before walking up the counter to her friend.  

“Hey beautiful!” Vassa smiled broadly at her. “You’re not usually in here this early.”  

“I’m headed to check on my romaine, but I promised Feyre I’d bring her something at work.”  

“That’s generous of you.” Vassa quirked one eyebrow as she took the two empty glass jars that Elain handed to her.  

“She was up late. New boyfriend.” The last part she said with a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned towards the counter.  

“How’d she meet this one?” Vassa turned to look at her as she measured out the milk for their drinks. 

“Some work thing. His company donates to the station.”  

“Scandalous.” Vassa offered her a cheeky wink. “Does he have any rich brothers?” 

“Planning a backup boyfriend?” Vassa and Jurian had been together for three years, and despite their constant arguing, they never wavered, living together while also running the shop.  

“For you, dumbass.”  

Elain swatted at her. “Thanks for the lookout, but I don’t need my little sister to set me up.”  

“How about me then, Jurian knows this guy who...”  

Elain cut her off with a hand in the air. “I love you, Vass, but after you set me up with that guy obsessed with birds, you’ve lost your credibility.”  

Vassa handed her two jars now filled to the brim with coffee, the milk swirling cloudlike in the glass. “He was hot, but point taken.”  

Elain shoved a generous tip into the jar at the counter before waving to a half-distracted Vassa, already in the midst of preparing a particularly sugary drink for a teenager waiting patiently.  

***** 

The walk to the radio station where Feyre worked was long and the ice in Feyre’s drink quickly began to melt. Elain held the overfull drink carefully as she stepped towards the door of the studio. She fumbled as she reached the door, her hands full and her grip precarious.  

“I’ve got it” a familiar voice called from behind her. Against her will, Elain shivered in response. God, she was acting like a weirdo in front of this probably middle-aged married man on his way to work.  She focused her gaze on the cement pavement of the sidewalk, blinding as the sun gleamed overhead. She watched his shadow as he came closer to her.  

It took but a few long strides for him to reach her, a broad elegant hand reaching to grasp the door. His body was close behind hers, allowing her to scent the warm spice of his cologne. His wife probably bought it for him, she reminded herself. But as she watched a tendon in his muscled forearm flex with the movement, she couldn’t help but scan his unadorned hand for a wedding band.  

“Do you know where you’re headed?” The door opened, and she shut her eyes to adjust the dull fluorescent lighting. His body stepped closer to hers, the heat from his hand approaching her back without ever touching.  

Her voice squeaked when she spoke. “Just dropping off coffee.” She lifted one as if to prove her point.  

“Ah. Delivery?” He’d come to stand beside her, but Elain wouldn’t let herself to look up. She didn’t want to break the spell of his voice so close to hers, afraid of what she might find.  

God she must seem like an idiot. “OH. Uh no, actually. Just for my sister.”  

“I should have known. You must be Feyre’s sister.” She looked up, finally, forcing herself to act like an adult and not a shy adolescent who had never spoken to a crush before. She was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze and OH.  

Lucien Vanserra was a god, easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His tall frame was equally broad, the muscles of his chest seeming to strain against the smooth fabric of his checked shirt. He’d left only the first two buttons open, a professional, and yet just the hint of his gleaming brown skin underneath caused her mouth to go dry. He smiled widely at her, causing a scar over his eye to bunch at the corners. His eyes were a beautiful russet brown, mirthful as he watched her stumble for words.  

“You know her?” Elain offered dumbly.  

“Against my own will, I assure you.” He gestured one hand in front of him to indicate that they move.  

Elain’s feet felt too heavy, stuck to the ground as she struggled to recalibrate her mind. This could not be the same man who just spoke about taxes of all things. His full lips were too beautiful, his voice too sultry, to be bogged down with such tedious minutiae.  

They wandered through a hallway covered in scuffed linoleum tile, clearly a carryover from decades prior. Elain paid no attention to doors they passed or where they turned. She felt as if her world had been turned around, her mind turning to accept this new piece of information. Lucien, the man who mediated a debate for city council, who reported on the new wastewater plant, who she’d fantasized about on more than one occasion, was gorgeous and walking next to her and – Elain cursed herself, clearing her mind of her spiraling thoughts.  

It had been too long since she’d broken up with Graysen, a dry spell that had had all but turned into unwilling chastity. She feared her summons for the convent would come any day. Could one be recruited for that sort of thing? The cheerful laugh of Feyre brought her back to her senses, followed by an unfamiliar voice muttering something in response.  

Next to her, Lucien sighed dramatically. “Rhysand is here.”  

Elain bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “You don’t like him?” She couldn’t look at him, fearing the flush already forming would give her away.  

“I do, he’s just been here...a lot lately.” He looked at her with a pointed lift of his brow.  

She smirked, but said nothing. Far be it for her to reveal a torrid workplace affair her sister may or may not be engaged in. Though technically, she supposed, Rhysand didn’t work for the station, he just...sponsored it. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Would Rhys pull his funding when Feyre inevitably got bored and moved on, as she always seemed to do?  

Lucien knocked pointedly on the open doorway with a sharp rap, announcing their presence before entering. What could they be doing in an office to necessitate that?  

“Feyre, a visitor for you.” Feyre turned her face towards Elain and immediately winced apologetically. Not comprehending, Elain scanned her sister, wondering if she had been caught in something scandalous after all. That’s when she saw. TRAITOR.  

Feyre stood with a large plastic cup in hand, holding some kind of sweetened drink concoction laden in caramel drizzle. She didn’t even like sweet drinks! She had teased Nesta mercilessly for her preferences, had labelled her as basic on more than one occasion.  

Elain smiled with chagrin, not letting her ire seep through in front of Rhys and Lucien. “I see you’ve got your caffeine covered.” The condensation from the glass began to drip down her hand uncomfortably. She turned towards Lucien, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in amusement.  

“I don’t suppose you like an oat milk latte?” He was polished from head to toe, his shirt pressed and his large black watch gleaming like the shine of his auburn hair. She became very aware of her own lackluster appearance, her shirt advertising Gwyn and Emerie’s gym that she admittedly rarely visited.  

“I’m more of a tea guy myself.” A frown began to pull at the corners of her mouth, her irritation at her sister unfairly cast in the direction of this innocent bystander.  

He smirked, stepping towards her. “But I can’t say no to a free drink.” His hand brushed hers as he took it from her hands, and she bit her lip to contain the gasp caught in her throat. She watched with lurid fascination as he lifted the jar to his lips, the clear glass allowing her to see his tongue as he licked some water off the side before taking a sip. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His eyes met hers as he pulled it from his face, their gazes locking before Rhysand interrupted.  

“Nice of you to escort her, Vanserra.” His tone implied that it was not nice at all. If Elain had more sense, she might have unraveled whatever male bravado was taking place in front of her, what tangled web her sister might be weaving. Instead, she stood dumbly, all words gone for the moment.  

“Oh, um.” she fiddled with the tail of her braid, twisting it between her fingers, “Yes, thanks.”  

Feyre cringed, as if embarrassed at her sister’s poor social skills. Normally, Elain would be the one to smooth things over, to offer whatever polite phrase a situation required.  

“Anyway, I should go. I’ve got to check on my lettuce.” God, she sounded like an idiot. Rhysand grinned devilishly, his smile revealing his unusually sharp canines.  

“Wouldn’t want to leave that lettuce unsupervised, Elain. It was nice to meet you.” Elain silently cursed him even as she had to admit he was handsome. He exuded charisma, the cut of his sweater too sharp to truly be casual. He was different than Feyre’s usual type, a challenge to which her sister would certainly rise.  

Elain only nodded before quickly exiting down the hall. Damn her and her lusty brain, she hadn’t paid attention to the direction back to the entrance at all. Each hall was the same dull gray, covered in tacky textured wallpaper from the eighties. The old scent of cigarette smoke clung to it. Elain needed fresh air, needed the green of her plants and the scent of fresh soil. Just as she was considering how ludicrous it would be to airdrop her location to her sister in an office building of all places, she startled to attention as an older person with a badge labelling them as Bryaxis, stepped from the shadows. “Exit is first door on your left.”  

Elain waved half-heartedly, “got it, thanks!” before moving her short legs at a brisker pace towards the exit. If her sister wanted coffee delivered to her desk again, she could call Nesta.  

***** 

Elain was sorting through her, admittedly cluttered, closet for a tote bag to bring to the craft fair when she felt her phone vibrate.  

Feyre: Downstairs  Elain: Almost ready, come up?  Feyre: In a tow away zone  

Goddammit. Elain reached her hand in and grabbed the first bag she could find before slipping into a pair of shoes and rushing out the door and racing down the creaky stairs. Her sister awaited her in an old Honda civic, something poppy blasting from her staticky stereo system.  

“My neighbors are all retired, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint.” 

Feyre, ever stubborn, turned up the music one octave louder. “Please, they are too busy ogling you.” Elain scrunched her nose in disapproval. “You look cute, by the way.”  

Elain smoothed out the cotton of her dress. “What did you do?” 

“NOTHING! Can’t a girl be nice to her sister?” Elain narrowed her eyes but shrugged, noting her sister taking the side street leading towards Scythia.  

“Coffee first?”  

“Always.” Elain said nothing about the dark bruise that looked like a bitemark clearly visible on her sister’s neck beneath her wavy hair.  

“Good time with fancy pants?”  

“Rhys!” She admonished her. Elain shrugged, a clear indication that she had no intention of calling him by that anytime soon. “And yes, the opera was...interesting.”  

“Interesting how?” While her sister had an artistic spirit, she’d certainly never expressed an interest in the opera before. That was more of Nesta’s scene. Feyre grinned mischievously.  

“GOD never mind, don’t tell me.” 

“Boring” Feyre scoffed, rolling up with a smooth glide to parallel park. Elain would not admit that she was impressed, that she would walk to the shop in almost any weather to avoid this very parking situation.  

“Come on, my little deviant. Coffee awaits.” Elain flipped her hair dramatically as she stormed into the coffee shop with a flourish. Vassa would side with her, she was mostly certain. She grinned as she saw her leaning across the counter, her laugh resounding throughout the small space. That smile fell short when she realized who she who was making her laugh so gleefully.  

Feyre, unperturbed, bounded up, bumping her shoulder with Lucien’s almost aggressively. Lucien didn’t flinch, his body unmoving as he glanced down at her. His mouth opened to say something to her when he turned, catching Elain in his vision. He watched her for a moment, his eyes moving up and down to take her in, before turning back to Feyre. Vassa’s own eyes widened as she looked towards Elain gesturing between Lucien and Feyre in question. Lucien caught the motion and scowled at Vassa. 

Feyre, less subtly made a gagging sound. “Him, god no!!”  

Lucien placed his hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch, Feyre. My ego is fragile.”  

“Please, your ego is the size of the state of California.” Taking the distraction as the time to approach, Elain sidled up to the counter to face Vassa.  

"No jars to return, sorry! I’ll bring them next time.” Vassa half-heartedly gave her a stern look, before one slid down the counter.  

Vassa glanced once again assessingly before beaming a broad smile, her blue eyes shining brightly. “You’ve met Lucien as well?”  

Lucien cleared his throat. “Briefly, she came to see Feyre at work.”  

“Ah.” Vassa smiled knowingly, not seeming dissuaded from whatever she was scheming.  

Feyre looked at Lucien and then at Vassa.  “Did you tell her your dirty secret?” 

Lucien’s eyes widened and he glanced towards Elain. “What secret?”  

“You’re a tea drinker.”  

Vassa nodded solemnly. “A fate worse than death. But we keep him around for his good looks.”  

Feyre rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”  

Vassa nodded towards Elain’s empty bag. “Where are you two pretty ladies headed?” 

Elain smiled, about to explain about the macrame planter she planned on buying when Feyre chimed in, “Want to join us, Loosh?”  

She ignored the irrational spike of jealousy at Feyre’s close relationship with Lucien. Lucien, looked towards her.  

“Don’t call me that. I have plans with Jurian, if he ever gets off his ass!” The last part was yelled pointedly to where Jurian sat perched atop his pink sofa cursing at his computer. He threw up his middle finger towards Lucien without so much as a glance.  

Elain laughed, “With company like that, I can see why you can’t tear yourself away.” 

Lucien grinned as he looked her over, as if he might consider bailing on his friend after all. His eyes paused at her hands holding her empty tote bag ready to be filled with stickers and knick knacks she had no space for in her tiny apartment.  

“Nice bag.” He said it with his brows lifted and a cocky grin on his face. 

Elain furrowed her brows in consternation, wondering what could arouse such a response before she looked down at the beige bag hooked under her arm. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she stared at the I love public radio bag she’d earned for free at an event she’d volunteered at with Feyre. She reminded herself he couldn’t possibly know that it was his voice she thought about, he was just being playful.  

Still, she could have kissed Jurian when he trounced over, slinging an arm around her as he rolled his eyes at Lucien instinctively. “Are you bothering my favorite customer, Lucien?”  

“What am I then, you ingrate?” 

“A nuisance, clearly.”  

Feyre had become absorbed in her phone as she chewed on the corner of her lip. Only when the group had come to a comfortable silence did she look up. Elain stared at her drink sitting on the counter and reluctantly extricated herself from Jurian’s arm to go claim it.  

Despite having looked forward to the craft fair with her sister all week, a part of her was disappointed Lucien couldn’t come, that she might not have an excuse to see him after this. As they walked away, she found herself turning a half step back to look at him, some words lost on her lips. He too, turned to watch her, his jaw flexing as he waited for her to say something. Instead, she just turned and walked away with Feyre, squinting at the bright glare of the sun.  

**** 

Elain was lounging on the couch, Suri curled up by her feet as she half watched reality TV and scrolled through her phone. It wasn’t the most exciting Saturday night, but after a long week at work and a day out in the sun, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Open containers of rice and tofu still littered her coffee table that she’d had the foresight to pick up on her way home, knowing she wouldn’t want to leave once she enveloped herself in the blankets on her couch.  

Her view of the recipe blog was interrupted by a text from an unknown number popping up on her screen. A spam text, she reasoned, or something equally boring from her pharmacy. Still, she opened the message and her heart skipped a bit.  

Hey, it’s Lucien  Elain: Oh, hi it’s Elain. But you knew that already ☺️  Elain: Unless you were hoping for Feyre 👀  Lucien: Talking to Feyre during the work day is more than enough.   Elain: She wouldn’t text you back unless you were Rhys, anyway  Elain: Speaking from experience here  Lucien: Good thing I’m talking to you then 

Elain struggled to formulate a response. Was he flirting with her? He messaged her on a Saturday night, which certainly suggested more than a friendly message with his friend’s sister. The idea of flirting with Lucien Vanserra both excited and terrified her. After all, this was the man whose voice she woke into in the mornings, the same voice that sometimes visited her at night in her dreams. He’d seemed charming in the briefest moments she’d talked to him at his work and at the coffeeshop, but not alone. What if he was a creep? He did clearly get her number from someone else after all...probably Jurian. If he gets to be at the center of gossip, he’ll give any information away.  

Elain: A pleasant surprise...I think. Unless you’re trying to rope me into helping Vassa re stain their back deck, in which case, get lost. I already told her no three times.   Lucien: Damn, I never tell her no.   Elain: A dangerous state of affairs.  Lucien: I guess you’ll be sitting pretty next weekend while I’m sanding and staining.   Elain: She’s a micromanager too. Get ready to have your technique corrected.  Lucien: I don’t usually get corrected on my technique.  

Did he just? Elain couldn’t tell if he took his home remodeling tasks that seriously, or if he really was inserting a sexual innuendo into a conversation with a stranger about routine deck maintenance. Well, a little confidence doesn’t hurt, she supposed.  

Elain: Feyre did say today that you have a big ego.   Lucien: Casting aspersions on me already. I’ll remember that when she asks me to look the other way while she sneaks off with Rhys during work hours.   Elain: It’s sounds like you’re getting pushed around left and right.   Lucien: Your turn next.  

There was a pause, while Elain calculated what to say. Whereas before, she wasn’t sure if he had been flirting, she didn’t know how she could take this message another way. She wasn’t used to this. She’d been with Graysen for years, and for the last several he hardly noticed her at all, let alone took the time to flirt with her. Then, since their breakup, she’d taken time for herself, unwilling to give up her independence. Lucien, though... 

Lucien: What are you doing tonight?  

Elain bit her lip, taking a picture of her cartons of food and the reality TV in the background and sent it to him.  

Lucien: A wild Saturday night then? Let me take you out.  

Elain couldn’t help but laugh. It would take a fire to force her out of her pajamas right now.   Elain: Now? I’m in my PJ’s.   Lucien: Drinks on me. You can come in your PJ’s if you want. Fuzzy slippers and all.  

Elain thought about correcting him that she worse fuzzy socks, not slippers, but supposed it was semantics. The idea of getting dressed exhausted her, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing him. When was the last time she felt, young, did something reckless?  

Elain stepped off the couch, extricating her feet gently from their warm spot under her cat. As she acclimated to her vertical position, she mentally calculated what it would take to make herself presentable.  

Elain: Nothing fancy  Lucien: Perfect, the bar down the street from Scythia’s? Rask? I can pick you up.  Elain: That’s alright, I’ll walk. See you there in an hour?   Lucien: I’m looking forward to it.  

Elain added a little heart to his message and then began frantically throwing apart her closet for something to wear. When did she buy so many cardigans? Everything in her wardrobe looked like it could have just as easily fit in at a retirement home.  

Under normal circumstances, she might have bothered Feyre or Nesta for something sexy to wear, or even Vassa, whose clothes were less sexy and more edgy and cool. But Elain did NOT want to admit what she had planned to Feyre, or Nesta by proxy, who would immediately reveal her secrets to their group chat, not to mention her friends. Vassa, too, would be left out of this given her and Jurian’s possible involvement. She couldn’t encourage them after that Koschei incident.  

Instead, she dug through all of her dresses, looking for something that looked appropriate to wear at night. She pushed past all her pastel dresses to one clingy number she’d bought on a whim and rarely worn, preferring loose styles that let her move freely. It was a deep green, simple, and yet it clung to her somewhat non-existent curves, giving her the illusion of breasts. Her hair was mussed from rolling around on the couch, she raked her fingers through the waves and hoped it appeared tousled rather than the bed head it truly was.  

It would have to do. She didn’t bother with makeup, deciding that if he wanted to bother her so late at night, he could see her barefaced. She spritzed on some perfume that she walked through as she headed out the door, grabbing her “I love public radio” bag along the way.  

It was a long walk, but the arm was warm and a breeze brushed against her cheeks. It smelled of the streets, cement and trash and that faint scent of something she didn’t care to imagine. She followed all the street laws, despite the diminished traffic in the evening, waiting at every crosswalk for the flashing sign to proceed despite the absence of any cars. Each pause had her rethinking, half tempted to turn and run back to the safety of her home and the comfort of her plants and her cat.  

This is what Vassa always teased her about. When they’d met, she’d been as social and outgoing as Vassa, able to match her energy from one house party and show and bar to the next. Recently, she’d become more of a homebody, favoring her plants and creature comforts in lieu of time in the outside world. She tried to remind herself she could do this, she’d never had a problem attracting men, besides.  

Lucien was an NPR reporter, an enthusiast of local politics and an active participant in the fall and spring fund drives. Surely, he couldn’t be a party animal either, with a call time of five AM or something else equally absurd. Still, it had been him who suggested they meet at the last minute. Was this a booty call? Would he still buy her drinks, then?  

It seemed a strange move to select your coworker’s sister for such an arrangement, but perhaps she was naive. She’d have to keep her head on her shoulders, even when he spoke to her with that low seductive voice or wore another well-fitted shirt that showed off his expansive chest. Elain squared her shoulders, resolving herself to be firm in her resolution not to go home with him that night as she entered the chaotic noise of the bar.  

Dim lights lit the space crowded full of people flanked at the bar and filling most of the tables. Along the back entrance, a group crowded around a pool table and the loud clank of balls rattling in the pockets reverberated against the cement walls.  

The low rasp of Lucien’s voice saying her name next to her ear startled her and she jumped, nearly falling over herself. His broad hands clasped her shoulders, holding her firm as he stood behind her.  

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I wasn’t sure you’d hear me if I called your name.”  

Elain turned to look at him, despite the part of her that wanted to lean into his hold, rest her head against his chest and allow herself to let go. Even in the grim lighting of the bar, he looked beautiful. His auburn hair cascaded around his shoulders, falling against his strong shoulders constrained within the fabric of his white shirt. He’d left more buttons loose than at the office, allowing her an unprecedented amount of skin. She wanted to reach for it, certain that his whole body ran hot, somehow. His hands on her arms had felt scalding against her skin.  

He looked at her, as if sensing the battle she had with her instincts. A smirk grew at the corner of his mouth as he stated “Cute pajamas. I almost wore my garfield pajama pants, I’m glad I changed my mind.”   

Elain laughed, feeling relieved to be more at ease. “You do not wear garfield pajamas.”  

“You’ll see.” She hoped she did, though she wouldn’t say so. Though she’d much prefer to see him out of the pajamas. “Should we grab a drink?”  

Elain nodded as he placed his hand at the small of her back, leading her towards the throng of people vying for the attention of the sole bartender. He towered over the crowd easily, an advantage Elain envied as everyone easily blocked her from view. He made some kind of gesture with a simple lift of his chin, and suddenly the bartender was in front of them. He motioned towards her, allowing her to order for herself.  

After Elain ordered a simple gin and tonic, he ordered his beer and they were seated at a table as far away from the exuberant noise as they could manage. Still, they leaned across the table to talk to each other, and Elain couldn’t help but breathe in the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne. His hair fell in front of his face as he spoke, and she longed to touch it, to tuck it behind his ear and see the scarred side of his face more clearly. It made him all the more beautiful, cruel and rugged despite his well-dressed appearance.  

“Well?” Elain looked towards him expectantly. He had invited her out to drinks, after all. Surely, he had some plan in mind.  

“Well, I’d like to get to know you, Elain.” He said this with a sultry tone that implied something different than the casual acquaintance he was offering.  

“Get to know me.” Though it was a question, the flatness of her tone implied that she doubted his claim very much. He wanted to sleep with her, and despite her earlier determination that she would not go home with him tonight, she found herself imagining undressing him, gently unfastening each of the buttons on his shirt and licking her way down as she went.  

“You seem surprised” He offered with a lift of the brow. “Is there something else you had in mind?” 

Elain huffed. “It’s you who invited me here tonight, Lucien. Get to know me then. Isn’t this what you do?”  

“Alright, you garden. Why?” He crossed his arms in front of himself, readying to rise to the challenge. 

“Why not? The world needs gardens.”  

Lucien smiled broadly at that. “Tell me more about that.”  

Elain bit her lip, thinking as she formulated a response. “It feels good to grow my own food, and to have some left over to share.” She paused, unsure if she wanted to share more. Lucien placed his hand face down on the table as if he might reach for her. “My family didn’t always have enough to eat growing up, and I couldn’t help” she corrected herself “didn’t help. I didn’t try. I don’t ever want to feel helpless like that again.”  

Lucien nodded, absorbing her words. “Food is what you like to grow then?”  

Here, Elain couldn’t stop her smile. “And flowers. The world needs some beauty, too. I grow native plants, so I can help the pollinators in the process. I help plant trees, too, once a month or so.”  

Lucien looked at her, his eyes full of warmth. “You’re incredible.”  

The flush on her cheeks bloomed, creeping down to her chest and up to her ears. “What about you? What do you like to do when you’re not on the radio?”  

“I like to be outside too, though I guess I take the more passive approach. I hike, swim, anything to be out in fresh air and sunshine.” Elain half laughed to herself, forcing down the joke about fresh air she was sure he’d heard too many times since working for public radio. “There’s a pond, outside of town, it’s beautiful in the spring. The water is a deep blue and I swear it shines like starlight. I could take you, sometime.”  

“I’d like that.” Elain didn’t hesitate, the offer of the clear pool and the company too enticing to feign resistance.  

After that, things were easier. Elain described the ill-fated hike she went on with Nesta and her friends, in which she’d vastly underestimated the training required to hike the Grand Canyon. Gwyn and Emerie completed the hike and Nesta very begrudgingly stayed behind with Elain after the first day when she couldn’t continue with her sore legs and the blisters on her feet. Nesta still didn’t let her live it down, promising never to take Elain on one of her trips again.  

That was just as well, Elain preferred the sort of vacations that involved exploring new cities and seeing sights to those that involved equipment and a rigorous fitness routine. She could see the Grand Canyon without climbing it, she reasoned.  

Lucien too, had stories of ill-fated travels, particularly those that involved Vassa and Jurian. Vassa once went missing for two days, apparently of her own choice. He laughed easily at her jokes, and sometimes his own, putting her at ease. It felt like she’d always known him somehow, rather than just the hour or two it had truly been. When there was nothing but the sound of ice clinking in her glass, Elain felt unsure of her next move. Should she offer to buy the next round of drinks? Invite him back to her apartment? While she weighed her choices, Lucien took action.  

“Should I get you another drink? Or do I risk the wrath of your bunny slippers?” He looked all too pleased with himself, and Elain huffed as she considered her response. 

“I’ll have you know they are socks, not slippers. You can come back to my apartment and see for yourself, if you’d like.” Her stomach twisted the moment the words left her mouth. The proposition was bold and entirely humiliating at the same time. Was there a less sexy way to ask a man back to your apartment than with the promise of fuzzy socks? If there was, she couldn’t think of it.  

Lucien, undeterred, leaned forward on his crossed arms. “Are you asking me to come home with you, Elain?”  

Elain stuttered, unable to form coherent words. Lucien, placed a hand on her wrist in encouragement. Thoughts of him holding her down by her wrists encouraged her to continue. “Um, yes?”  

Lucien didn’t wait any longer, dropping off their empty drinks at the bar before placing his hand again on the small of her back. “Let’s go.”  

The car ride was brief and Elain was both amused and unsurprised to learn than Lucien drove a very practical and environmentally friendly Prius, rather than something showy he surely could have afforded however he afforded the nice clothes one certainly couldn’t buy on a public radio salary. His hand found her thigh as he drove down the quiet streets. When he parked in front of her apartment building, her nerves caught up with her again. Casual sex was not Elain’s forte. She had a feeling Lucien had more experience in that arena, judging by the relaxed way he touched her or his boldness in leaving the bar.  

He stood closely behind her as she jingled her keys in the door, unlocking the several deadbolts she had in place from living alone. She could feel his breath on her neck. The moment they entered her small apartment, Suri raced to the door, weaving between Lucien’s legs. He didn’t react, standing in place taking in her apartment.  

“You like cats?” She tried not to squint her eyes as she reassessed his character. His first red flag, not immediately adoring Suri like most people who entered her apartment.  

“I’m allergic” he winced.  

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her voice coming out haughty. “How allergic?”  

He held up his hands in defense. “Not that allergic.”   

“Suri’s not leaving, so.” She raised her brow as in indication that he could leave if he had a problem with it.  

“Dually noted. I’ll take some medicine in the morning, it’ll be fine.”  

“In the morning, huh?” Elain placed her keys on the hook on the wall and kicked off her shoes.  

 “I’ll be busy until then.”  

Elain was about to make a joke about him being over confident, when he stepped in front of her, placing his hand on her jaw. She gasped, leaning up to him instinctively. He met his mouth with hers, all force and heat. She reached up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck as she had to stand on her toes to lean into him properly.  

She’d only just kissed him, and already she felt desperate not to stop. His lips felt plush against her own, his hands on her face both firm and tender. When his teeth grazed her bottom lip, she let out a whimper, her mouth parting. The slide of his tongue into her mouth might unfurled something in her. She understood why he promised to be busy all night. If he used his tongue like this, she would lock him in her apartment if she had to. She felt desperate, greedy for him to touch her, to her body align with his own.  

Elain gently pushed at his chest with the tips of her fingers and Lucien froze instantly, his body going still as he looked down at her in concern. “Sit” she ordered with more force than she anticipated. He turned his head towards where she gestured, walking silently to the couch next to her still open containers of food. He raked his hands through his hair, as if nervous the kiss had already ended poorly.  

“Elain, I” She cut him off as her knees dipped into the soft cushions of the couch straddling his lap as she settled on top of him. Her face cupped his cheek as the other roamed any exposed skin around his collar.  

“Lucien.” It was a plea, one said with half a breath, all she could manage when she felt the heat of his skin under her palm. The moment felt surreal, happening too quickly, and yet there was an anxious flutter pulsing in her that demanded more, faster. She didn’t have to wait long as Lucien pulled her closer by the waist. Unlike her own roaming, his fingers stayed where they firmly gripped her, the other settling on her calf where it rested on the other side of his thighs. Her dress pulled up higher around her thighs from the wide spread of her legs, revealing more skin. Yet he remained still, focused.  

His mouth began to move more freely as he licked a broad stripe along the side of her neck. She gasped and he nipped at it, before pulling her earlobe between his teeth. “Elain” he repeated, this time with his lips brushing against her ear. The feel of his breath and the desperation in his tone, almost whimpering, sent goosebumps along her arms.  

This was not just any voice in her ear, but Lucien’s. It was the same voice she heard every morning, and not. It had taken on a gravely tone, his voice raw instead of the smooth rolling tones that he used on the radio.  

She wanted to draw every note out of him. Elain rolled her hips, testing his reaction. It was her that moaned first, when she felt how hard he was underneath her. She wanted to look down, to guess at the size of him through his well-tailored trousers, but that would pull her away from the way he panted in her ear. She found she wanted that, more.  

She sank down further, grinding against him with force, allowing some of the friction to rub against the lace of her panties. The pressure sent jolts of pleasure directly to her clit. The chaste hand on her calf moved up then. Lucien slid his broad hand from her calf up her thigh to her waist, guiding her as she moved. “You’re perfect.” He groaned into her ear.  

His hips rolled up into her hers in a smooth, undulating rhythm. Every movement he made was easy and graceful. She’d hardly have described dry humping as elegant, but with Lucien, his soft hair curling around the scar on his face and the luxuriant tenor of his voice, it was. She felt more beautiful too, from the way he looked at her reverently. His eyes were half lidded and a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as he watched her. He toyed with her hair, pulling gently at the nape of her neck to bring her lips back against his own.  

Instead of the soft, wet slide of before, she sucked a bit. He was completely in control, but his movements were never rough or sloppy, but exacting, each one edged with promise. Elain whimpered into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders. She needed more.  

“Take off your dress for me.” The words were a demand in her ear.  

Elain didn’t think before she complied, pulling her hands back from where they pulled at his shirt to grab at the edge of her dress, lifting it over her head with the arch of her back. He didn’t hesitate, moving his hands over every new exposed bit of skin. She watched his eyes as she unclasped her bra, revealing her admittedly small breasts. Lucien palmed each in a broad hand before roaming his thumbs across her nipples. He pinched one sharply, pulling another gasp from Elain.  

She liked the way Lucien took his time with her, never rushing to the next step, needing to take his own pleasure. Instead, he let his hands trace her body as his mouth dropped to one breast, laving at her nipples softly while he tweaked and pulled at the other. The combination of the sensations, both tender and demanding drove her wild. She’d never been so wet, all but slipping against her panties as she ground against him once more.  

She found she didn’t want to rush him, excited to see what he would do next. She did, however, begin to toy at the buttons of his shirt, almost hoping he wouldn’t notice as she undressed him. When she got half way to his abdomen, she couldn’t reach around his arms and huffed in frustration.  

Lucien, pulled back, smiling lazily up at her. “Did you need something, love?” 

“Yes, take it off.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Please.”  

Lucien made quick work of the buttons before all but ripping his shirt off. Instead of the chance to ogle at his very muscular chest as she intended, Lucien lifted her easily by the legs before placing her back down on the couch on her back.  

Lucien didn’t crawl over her like she expected. Instead, he sank to his knees, pulling her legs over his shoulders. Elain flushed, embarrassed at how exposed she felt and yet unable to look away as his eyes roamed her body from this angle, taking in her face and breasts before looking at the obviously dark spot of red lace between her legs.  

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He praised as he began to run his knuckle up and down the wetness through her panties. He pulled, causing the fabric to rub almost uncomfortably against her clit. “Look at this pretty, pink, pussy.” 

“Lucien” she groaned. She didn’t want to rush him, but... She could feel his breath on her, and his hands running tantalizingly along her inner thighs. She needed something and she feared she’d lose control soon.  

Lucien lifted away from her legs as he pulled her underwear down her thighs tantalizingly slowly. He began his casual perusal again, soaking a thumb through her wetness. Just as she was sure he was about to start rubbing in earnest, he looked at her and gave one sharp slap against her pussy. Elain gasped, uncertain what would come next.  

He wasted no time, licking softly at the hurt, her clit now even more sensitive and desperate for his touch. His tongue licked broad stripes between her folds, moving down to circle between her opening. He felt warm and soft and wet and Elain already had to cover her mouth to contain herself from making noises that would certainly wake her elderly neighbors. Her other hand found his hair, pressing his mouth firmly against her as he sucked in sloppy open-mouthed kisses. The wet noises were obscene, ugly in a way she found satisfying from composed and debonair Lucien.  

Every time Elain felt her orgasm begin to crest, Lucien would pull away, sucking on her folds or delivering sharp bites to inner thighs. She began to feel frustrated, huffing and whining in hopes that Lucien would give her what she wanted. She knew he could and yet, he chose not to do it.  

It was different with some men, who could never make her come until she begrudgingly touched herself. Lucien circled the outside of her clit, just the barest of brushes, letting his saliva drip down until it collected with her own juices. He was completely in control, choosing what he would give her, all she could do was take. It frustrated her, and yet letting herself go to it felt better than she’d expected. Her thoughts were a blur, just heat and desire and that frantic feeling crawling up her spine. She couldn’t hold still, Lucien pressing her down with one firm hand. Her cunt ached, her clit throbbing. Lucien’s thumb continued to toy with her entrance while he lapped softly at her clit.  

She said his name over and over, begging. He looked up at her from between her legs with a wink. She watched with surprise as he moved one hand down to his own body, the sound of the zipper of his pants ratcheting up her excitement once more. Instead of moving on top of her as she expected, she saw the telltale sign of his arm pumping as he stroked his own cock as he continued to lick her. He began to groan as he licked, his breath hot against her skin.  

“Let me touch you.” She gripped the upholstery of her couch, trying to hold herself back. She couldn’t even see him, and she wanted to watch, at least.  

He flicked at her clit. “Do you want to come or do you want to touch me?” 

“Both” Elain answered immediately. What kind of question was that? You’d think he didn’t know her at all. Which, she supposed, he didn’t.  

“Lay back and be a good girl, Elain. You’ll come when I’m ready.”  

Lucien made a big show of increasing his own movements of his cock, cursing to himself as he sucked on her clit sporadically. Elain must be drunk on her need for an orgasm, because she could have sworn Lucien was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Just watching his face and listening to the noises he made as he touched himself was intensely erotic.  

“Fuck, Lucien.”  

“Yes, Elain?” He lifted his face from between her legs, turning his head to the side to eye her curiously. 

“You’re so hot.” was all she managed. Like a god damned idiot. 

Lucien rewarded her with a broad smile, kissing the side of her knee before leaning back down and sucking at her clit. His tongue continued to stroke at her as he sucked and Elain’s orgasm arrived at last, her whole-body rocking with pleasure, her back arching and contorting, like she’d never experienced. His large hand came to cover her mouth, containing the unearthly noises she was releasing.  

When her body began to relax, Lucien came over her, kissing her as he ran soothing strokes up and down her arm. Elain, embarrassingly, clung to him with her arms and legs. He hummed a soft sound as he continued to press his lips against her own in a series of soft kisses. At last, Elain began to relax and came to the disturbing realization that Lucien hadn’t come. She reached between them to fumble for his cock, ready and eager to take over the job he’d already started. Lucien gently grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers before holding her hands out to the side.  

“Next time.” He kissed her again, this time his tongue danced inside her mouth, his movements certain.  

He wedged his body besides hers on the narrow couch, and she shifted to make room, all but laying on top of him as her head rested on his chest. Still, it felt nice, her body relaxed and content as she nestled into him. His arm wrapped around her, his hand toying in her hair. It all felt intense and intimate for a random hook up. Still, he’d said next time.  

She would unravel it in the morning, she decided. Instead, she let her mind lull into nothingness, her hands focusing on the warm feeling of Lucien’s skin and tender way he pressed his cheek against the top of her head as his breathing slowed. 

When Elain woke on the couch the next morning, her first thought was that her neck was broken. She’d twisted into an especially uncomfortable position, her head at an unnatural angle and her leg all but falling off the side of the couch. Next to her feet sat a very angry little cat, who seemed perturbed that she did not sleep in her assigned place and she did not feed him on time.  

It was only after Elain began to sit up and realized that, yes, she was naked, that she remembered why she had slept on the couch at all. Lucien had been there, and apparently, left. She tried not to wince at the sting of rejection. Of course he left, there were all but strangers. Just because he’d eaten her out didn’t mean he wanted to stay for breakfast.  

Elain tried to calm herself, fighting the simultaneous outrage and disappointment as she fumbled to the bedroom for a t-shirt to throw on before beginning her morning. She looked at the radio, taunting her. It was the weekend, Lucien wouldn't be on the air, still it felt like an insult.  

Would she ever be able to listen to the news again? Perhaps she’d just become willfully ignorant of the world around her so that she never had to think of the news or reporters again. Or worse, she’d watch one of those exhausting twenty-four-hour news channels that grated on her nerves.  

Elain walked over to the drying rack to grab a clean bowl for Suri’s food when she saw the dishes from her Chinese food last night, washed and in the sink. She opened the fridge, eyeing her boxes of food neatly lined in the fridge. Well, if he meant to let her down easy by doing her dishes, she supposed there could be worse ways. Perhaps he hoped that she wouldn’t tell Feyre about it. Not that she would, she’d never live it down with her sisters. As she walked over to start her morning coffee, she saw a note scribbled on the back of a piece of mail set atop it.  

Elain -   I’m sorry I had to leave early. I’ve got to get home and walk my dog and I didn’t want to wake you.   I need to see you again.  -Lucien 

Elain smiled as she turned on the coffee pot and turned on the radio, an old episode of Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me playing as she went about caring for her plants. Was Lucien the kind of person that knew the answers? He seemed like he would be. Lucien seemed like the sort of person that would know the answers to all the trivia questions and be entirely too smug about it. Nesta would either love him or throttle him. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.  

***** 

Elain had never listened to the radio as avidly as she had the last few days. The thrill of a text from Lucien arriving mere moments after she stopped hearing his voice on air was something that wouldn’t get old. Was it normal to feel aroused while you listened to someone talk about air quality on the radio? Probably not. Still, Elain could have touched herself from listening to his voice alone. Every sound and clearing of his throat made her think of the way he moved his lips, how his tongue danced endlessly across her body. Whenever he took a particularly deep breath, she thought of the way he moaned into her as he stroked himself.  

Her life was a golden wash of Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.  

When Feyre texted her asking her to bring her coffee again at the studio, she all be leapt at the opportunity. Would it look desperate? She wasn’t sure she cared, as long as she got a glimpse of him from a distance, a sidelong glance where she could appreciate his tall form and the contours of his face.  

Everyone seemed too invested in her whereabouts and activities, and she all but pried herself away from Vassa, who asked her too many leading questions. Lucien must have let something slip, she supposed. Good friend though she might be, Vassa generally much preferred to talk about herself rather than hold an interrogation over Elain’s upcoming schedule.  

Feyre, too, seemed unnaturally happy to see her. She’d hardly heard from her at all in their group chat with Nesta the past few days. Feyre was busy with Rhys, swept up in her new relationship and ignoring the outside world entirely. Nesta never liked Feyre’s boyfriends and was already suspicious of Rhys, especially after she met his, apparently very annoying, friends.  

She brought the coffee to Feyre in her office, chatting with her about some black-tie event that Rhys planned to take her to, when she felt the recognizably warm presence of Lucien behind her.  

“None for me, hmm?” He said jokingly as she turned around.  

“You don’t drink coffee. You drink tea.” She said the last part with the appropriate emphasis of her disturbance at the idea. Who didn’t love coffee?  

“Don’t you have to finish your recording?” Feyre sniped at him from her place at her desk.  

Lucien smiled good naturedly, not taking his eyes off Elain. “Join me?”  

Elain didn’t know what she was agreeing to, would have said yes to anything, as she followed him through those gray carpeted hallways. They entered a small room with fabric paneled walls, with sound equipment set up along the sides as well as placed on a desk in the center of the room with two microphones.  

“Wow, this is neat. Is this where you usually record?”  

“For prerecorded stuff. There’s a bigger room for the morning when I have someone with me.” He grabbed her waist, pulling her gently towards him. “Now, I have a guest.”  

She craned her neck up to look at him as she stood closer. Lucien cupped her cheek, leaning in to kiss her, nibbling at her lip. Elain had all but forgotten where they were or what they were doing by the time he released her.  

Lucien turned, fiddling with the equipment and plugging things in as she watched in fascination. His face was casual, confident as he adjusted dials and made some kind of calculations she didn’t understand. He stepped back towards her and she watched as flipped on a switch on the wall labelled “recording”.  

“So no one bothers us. It turns on a light outside.” Elain nodded wordlessly as Lucien sat the chair in front of the microphone, taking a dramatic and pointed sip of his steaming cup of tea before flipping on the switch. Elain couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes.   

Elain had heard Lucien’s voice many times by now, joking with his friends or the filthy words he murmured in her ear. This was different. Lucien’s voice was deep, smooth and authoritative as he recorded a segment on something she didn’t even bother to pay attention to.  

If he’d asked her for her opinion afterwards, she would have to admit her only opinion was on the way his mouth moved when he annunciated or the way his hands rested on his muscular thighs. What did a man on the radio need with muscles like those or a face like that? Whatever the reason, she was grateful that it benefited her, that she might get to experience if again if she played carefully. He’d said he wanted to see her again, hadn’t he? Hopefully he wouldn’t be too put off by her all but stalking him at work.  

By the time he was signing off, Elain’s thighs had grown slippery, her excitement palpable just at the sound of his voice. The whirring movements of the recording equipment could have just as easily been her, for how tightly wound she felt. When he leaned back in his chair to look towards her, Elain pounced. She strode over to him, standing between his spread legs to lick at his neck and wind her fingers through his long hair. Lucien didn’t miss a beat, his hands grasping at her ass as she nipped and licked at him, nothing but a smooth liquid glide against the satin material of her skirt.  

Lucien grasped at her chin, locking her eyes with his and taking control of her frantic exploration with her mouth. “Did you miss me, baby?”  

Elain nodded as he lifted up her skirt, trailing his fingers up and down her legs. Surely, he wouldn’t tease her again, here. They hardly had the time for it. It was the middle of the day and in other parts of the office people were filing paperwork and editing sound while Lucien dragged his hands up and down over her. When he arrived at the wetness gathering on her thighs, he hissed.  

“What's all this for? Did you like watching me?” Just like the night before, he gave her cunt a soft slap, the sound clear and crisp in the perfectly insulated room.  

Elain let out a sharp groan, arching up into his hand. He squeezed her waist before he turned her, tugging gently with her hair as be balled it into a fist. Every huff of his breath or the sound of her rubbing against him only drove her closer to losing her mind completely. She had no words for what she was feeling. She arched her back, letting her backside press up against the hardness she could feel. 

 She still hadn’t seen him or had the chance to touch him beyond the dry humping she’d engaged in on her couch. Holding her by her hair, Lucien pressed her forward, so that her chest was pushed against the desk. The knob of some piece of equipment or other pressed uncomfortably against her ribs, but she didn’t care. The pressure of the cold table against her sensitive nipples caused her to groan again, and she pinched at one absently through her clothes.  

Lucien lifted her skirt up over her hips, palming at the globes of her ass as he all but purred in appreciation. “Well?”  

He was asking her something, and Elain knew she would agree to anything he said right now. If he asked to fuck her live on air, she would have nodded her head just the same.  

The sound of a slap cut through the room as Lucien’s hand landed on her ass. Elain gasped her mouth open and drool dripping on to the table as he slapped again on the other cheek. She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer his question, wanted to see how long he would keep going like this. The pain was just enough to truly sting, though she knew if he kept going she would start to feel sore.  

One more hard slap left her rethinking her decisions and Elain craned her neck to look at him as she answered a simple “Yes.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” He demanded as he offered her another sharp slap to the other cheek. The recording light was still on, would warn anyone in the hall not to disturb them, and yet Elain’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment.  

He rubbed at her inflamed cheeks, which she could now see bore bright red handprints. “Yes, Daddy” 

“Good girl.” He leaned forward, his body over her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving languidly in her mouth. Elain whimpered as his mouth covered hers and she could hear the jingling sound of him unbuckling his belt. He pulled back to standing as she listened for the distinct sound of the ripping open of a foil package.  

Elain craned her neck to watch, taking in a full view of him naked in front of her for the first time. His cock bobbed in front of him, flushed a deep reddish purple from his arousal with swollen veins running up and down the length. It was long, the head of him reaching up to his navel, already wet and dripping down towards the thick base of him. Elain bit her lip, her mouth watering as she fought the urge to taste him.     

“Are you going to watch me fuck you?” Lucien asked as he lined himself up between her legs. Elain spread them wider, lifting her ass into the air in invitation.  

“Yes, Daddy.” Though she still felt a bit embarrassed, she spoke more confidently this time.  

Despite his tone, Lucien took his time pushing into her, allowing her to adjust to the stretch of him. He watched with open mouthed fascination, though he lifted his eyes to look at her and make sure she was comfortable. Elain couldn’t look away either, staring at the way the muscles in his abdomen tensed as he held control, moving slowly. At last, when he was pressed fully against her, he leaned forward, pressing his body on top of her own, avoiding the tangle of cords on the table as he paced his hands on either side of her. 

“Fuck, you feel so good Elain. You’re so tight on my cock.” He began to move in and out, the wet sounds of it the only thing she could hear.  

“Is that why you’re here, pretty girl? So, Daddy can fuck you?” Elain gulped down a yes as she panted out a rasping breath.  

“Next time, I need you to come on my face, too.” He began to pick up his pace hitting against her so sharply it almost hurt as his other hand pressed against her clit. She craved it, the sharp bite of each slap of his cock against her just enough to bring her close to the edge.  

“Be a good girl and come for me, Elain.”  

She did, her pleasure pounding and reverberating through her body as she shook. Lucien cursed and repeated incoherent praises in her ear about how wet and tight she was, what a good girl for coming when he told her to, as he lost his rhythm, his hips moving frantically as he came. Elain watched his face eagerly, pleased to see the feral snarl in his expression and the whimpering groan he made when he finished.  

He didn’t move as he kissed her softly, brushing his fingers through her hair before reluctantly withdrawing from her body. It felt wrong to suddenly be so empty, she found herself craving him again already. Lucien discreetly disposed of the condom before rushing back over to her, placing soft kisses along her cheek.  

“You’re beautiful.” Elain and answered with an affectionate touch of her own along his jaw. Gone was the feral man of a moment before, replaced by a softer Lucien, who drove a prius and left early in the morning to walk his dog. She rather liked both, she decided.  

Lucien let it a sudden sharp intake of breath, and Elain’s blood ran cold. If they’d been discovered, if someone walked in on her clearly fucking a man she just met in the middle of an office building, she’d never recover. She’d ask Nesta to take her out, a mercy killing. Instead, Lucien switched off the microphone in front of them.  

Elain gulped. “That’s not...” 

“Recording? Yes. I didn’t shut off the mic before we” he indicated to the space between them. Elain’s pussy clenched with arousal even as she stood, straightening out her dress and combing through her hair as if making herself presentable would make any difference. It’s radio for god’s sake.  

He must have seen her wide-eyed panic, because he squeezed her hand. “It’s not live. Thank god! Just recorded. I’ll take care of it, delete the recording and re-record my spot in a bit.”  

“Oh, okay.” It all happened too quickly. She wanted to go back to the way he’d been holding her tenderly, to the honeyed words dripping from his lips in the wake of his orgasm. Instead, he explained the logistics of how the audio was recorded, how he would most assuredly remove of all evidence.  

She trusted him, it was his job after all. It was one that would not be easily replaced, the city only had one public radio station. He looked a bit frantic, and Elain took that as her sign to leave, feeling suddenly awkward and a bit out of place.  

She reached up on the tips of her feet to place a kiss along his jaw, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’ll walk myself out.”  

Lucien pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping around her body. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll call you later, okay?”  

***** 

Elain calmed herself down with a trip to the garden center, wandering the aisles of newly sprouting plants and running her fingers through the damp top soil as she listened to Nesta on the phone, complaining about a coworker named Eris who apparently stole her reserved parking space. She didn’t need to say anything, just listen as she touched the leaves and breathed in the fresh air.  

She wandered home with a new plant for her windowsill, still feeling a bit out of her sorts. When she arrived at her apartment door, she found a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doormat, along with a simple brown paper bag. Elain took a moment, unlocking her door as she wandered inside to the chirping sounds of her cat.  

She leaned against her counter, flicking on the radio as she set down the flowers, her plant, and the mysterious bag with her name scrawled across it.  

She opened it to find a note from Lucien and a blank CD. Her face flushed immediately, understanding what it must be.  

Elain,  I’m sorry again for earlier. I’ve taken care of it, yours is the only evidence. You sound beautiful, by the way. You have a voice for radio.  Yours,   Lucien  

[cellythefloshie]

;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.

Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+

A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan. 

Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”

Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling. 

“He brought her.”

That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again. 

Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.  

Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much. 

So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.

“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”

Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”

“Dot!”

“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed. 

“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would. 

“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”

“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”

All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide. 

“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”

The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know? 

It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”

Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”

“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera. 

“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”

“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”

A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone. 

Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed. 

Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”

“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs. 

“Yes, your suitcase.”

Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical. 

“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”

“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”

“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”

“Dot-”

“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”

Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that. 

“You would have heard about it if it happened.”

“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”

Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-” 

Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks. 

Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag. 

“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”

Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then. 

“Fine.”

“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”

Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full. 

“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!” 

Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase. 

It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town. 

Aka. Her night at the hotel bar. 

It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.

It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.

The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato. 

It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie. 

She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications. 

The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young. 

In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success. 

With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side. 

“I’d swipe right on you.”  

The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident. 

That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline. 

As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite. 

“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat. 

“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”

Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress. 

“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation. 

Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her. 

“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite. 

“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.  

Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink. 

It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it. 

“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation. 

Talking to him was the least that she could do. 

“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already. 

Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine. 

Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”

“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”

“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”

“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass. 

“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”

“Nothing too exciting, just work.”

Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more. 

“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”

Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”

“How early?”

 If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.” 

“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”

Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone. 

Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie. 

“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly. 

Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes. 

With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.  

The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”

His touch. 

His words. 

It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure  and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering. 

“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”

“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”

“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”

Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”

Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”

Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple. 

“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”

“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”

“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”

“Very.”

“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”

“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom. 

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked. 

Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”

Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”

Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer. 

Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”

Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long? 

Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate.  But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to. 

From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret. 

“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.

“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders. 

“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call. 

With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach. 

And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”

The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies. 

She was going to do it. 

She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room. 

“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal. 

“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together. 

“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction. 

Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place. 

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night. 

“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him. 

They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.

The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious. 

Her smile had him smiling wider. 

Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss. 

Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed. 

They had reached her floor. 

red

She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well. 

But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room. 

If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-

“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her. 

Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again. 

Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic. 

This was the beginning of foreplay. 

Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious. 

“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar. 

She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”

“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.” 

“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting. 

“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar. 

“Since you’ve had casual sex?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she countered. 

Omission was not the same as lying. 

Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in. 

While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was. 

Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”

“Bullshit.”

Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders. 

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now. 

“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”

Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels. 

Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them. 

With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed. 

She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him. 

Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment,  in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties. 

They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence. 

He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-

Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm. 

In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it. 

One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips. 

Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans. 

Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt. 

Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself. 

“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”

Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs. 

“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched. 

The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate. 

He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned. 

It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs. 

Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt. 

Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds. 

The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her. 

With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him. 

Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled. 

Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”

Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod. 

Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh. 

Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror. 

Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax. 

His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy. 

“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do. 

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door. 

Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom. 

The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass. 

Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. 

“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”

Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”

–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.

Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message:  For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number,  it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways. 

Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything. 

“He left me his number.”

“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler. 

Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything. 

“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.” 

“What did he say he did for work?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”

“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.

She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.” 

“You used a condom, right?”

“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes. 

“Good girl, are you going to text him?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand. 

She could never see Jeremy again. 

“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”

TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap. 

Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.

Stacy. 

Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run. 

“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”

Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy. 

Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later. 

Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”

Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye. 

The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter. 

Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days. 

Swayman was Jeremy. 

She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride. 

“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears. 

The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her. 

“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it. 

“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees. 

Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was. 

Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room. 

Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break. 

Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman. 

She wouldn’t. 

Not again. 

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications. 

Could she? 

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl

[ihavethedreamies]

In the Middle | Easy to Expert (3 v3)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.8k

Felix/AFAB!Reader/Hyunjin

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Oral (M! and F! Receiving/Anal), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Author's Note: I was supposed to just do a part two for Felix's Easy but now I have these as well…

Edit: Why'd no one tell me I had it pasted twice?! I fixed it...

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"A threesome?" Hyunjin looked up from his phone. Felix suggested it so casually. Hyunjin would be lying if he said he hadn't ever thought about fucking his best friend's girlfriend. Even before they were dating.

"You in?"

"Are you asking me because she wanted one, or…"

"No, she requested you by name." Felix had a pillow on his lap so he could rest his chin on it as he played on his own phone.

"Here?" Hyunjin asked, looking around your apartment. You had scurried back into your room earlier, claiming to need the bathroom.

"Yeah."

"Now?"

"If you want." Felix shrugged. Hyunjin cast his eyes toward the hall that led to your bedroom.

"If she's sure." The taller man nodded and he saw Felix smirk.

"Get ready, love!" He shouted over his shoulder and he heard you call out a giddy, "Okay!"

You had been flitting about your bedroom to waste time as Felix made the suggestion. When he brought Hyunjin over, you knew it was time. Felix and you had been dating for a few months, and despite you choosing Hyunjin a while ago, your boyfriend insisted on waiting for the actual event. He had originally wanted to dress you up like the animal Hyunjin was associated with, but… There was a cat set of lingerie, fox, dog, even a horse, but not ferret or weasel. You two decided on just getting a frilly, mostly vanilla, set. It consisted of a babydoll with a black bra and hem, the sheer frills were white. Your crotchless panties were also black and allowed the plug Felix picked out to easily sit inside your ass without restriction. You also had on thigh-high, black and white striped socks. The butt-plug Felix had originally gotten had different tails to be attached, but without an animal cosplay you weren't sure which one to use. He ended up picking a generic black tail reminiscent of a cat's and simple black headband with rounded ears on it. While not exact, it would work. The final touch was a black choker with a silver heart-shaped tag, Felix's name etched into it. When you and Felix had gone over the ground rules, you were kind of surprised by what he was willing to let Hyunjin do to you. Even talking about it excited you.

You picked up your phone when you were ready, having prepared entirely and was just waiting for them to come in. You sent your boyfriend a thumb's up and then waited patiently near your bed. Felix came in first and his lips pulled into a smug grin.

"You look perfect, love. Doesn't she?" Your boyfriend stepped in fully, allowing his friend to follow. You shuffled under the taller man's gaze, the intense stare made your skin tingle.

"Absolutely." His beautiful lips pulled into their own smirk. How the hell were you lucky enough that your ethereally gorgeous boyfriend had an equally as attractive best friend.

"Go help him, love." Felix prompted, moving further into your bedroom to get the stuff he prepared from the nightstand drawer. You scampered forward, stopping in front of Hyunjin. Even though Felix was short compared to other men, he was still taller than you. But Hyunjin was even taller, and you felt incredibly small so close to him. You loved it.

"Help me with what, darling?" He flashed your boyfriend a look to make sure the pet name was okay, but he didn't even react. Your small hands went to the strings of his hoodie, your nails were painted black as well. The whole ensemble was incredibly appealing, but what he loved most was the tail hanging from your butt. It swayed with your hips as you moved and he wondered what it felt like to you. Hyunjin smirked down at you as he helped you remove his clothes. The large sweatshirt hit the floor and you eagerly took his t-shirt off as well. Your mouth nearly watered seeing him bare. He had been working out more recently and the new definition was just right. He shivered a bit when your fingers brushed over his stomach and you stepped even closer. Hyunjin wanted so bad to kiss you, but he didn't know if he was allowed.

"Are there any rules?" He was more asking Felix, but he was looking into your wide eyes the whole time.

"Hm…Only I can use her ass, and you can't come inside her. She doesn't like a condom, but she likes getting creampied too much I'm not willing to share." Felix smirked at his friend, holding a few bottles.

"I can kiss her?" Hyunjin was a little shocked by this and so were you, but not upset. Hyunjin was your boyfriend's best friend and he showed his favor for him by letting him have access to you in a way no one else could. He did gatekeep some, but not much. Since he got permission, his large hand cupped the back of your head and hauled you close, sealing his plush lips over yours. You whined and he smiled through the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. As he pulled away, he nibbled on your bottom lip and your lips hovered close to his as you undid his pants. The black jeans fell to the floor and you palmed his hard on through his underwear and leaned down to lay searing kisses on your neck.

"What color, love?" Felix called out and your head was swimming a bit, but you managed to answer.

"Red." You replied and he put the others away.

"'Lix?" You called and he hummed.

"Can I?" You asked simply and he hummed again. At this you sunk to your knees, hands quickly going to Hyunjin's waist band. He was shocked at your speed but he simply chuckled as you removed his boxers. As his hard cock bobbed in the air before you, you let out a small whimper. He was… Not overly thick, you could manage at least to get your hand around him, you weren't sure his whole length would fit in you. It was long and pretty like the rest of him.

"Fuck (Y/N)." He whined as your mouth eagerly wrapped around the head of his cock, and you began to descend on his length. You moaned softly at his taste and the vibration made him shiver. You yelped suddenly, gagging a bit as Hyunjin heard a buzzing noise begin. Felix had turned the vibration of the plug on, a feature you did not know it had. Breathing harshly through your nose, you got used to the buzz.

"(Y/N)?" He was shocked when the tip hit the back of your throat, and you kept going. Your eyes rolled back as you buried Hyunjin's dick in your throat, gagging a bit. He was definitely longer than Felix. Poor thing already had a sweat break out on his forehead and chest and if he wasn't balls deep in your mouth, you would be licking up the drops.

"Shit." The slightly older male groaned as your head began to move. You loved when your boyfriend would fuck your face as you just sat there and took it, but that was Felix's privilege. You were a little surprised yourself though that he was going to allow Hyunjin to come down your throat. They really were best friends. He exhaled as you pulled off his cock completely, holding him at the base and running your tongue up the underside. You then kissed down his length and to his groin. A drop of sweat rolled down his lower stomach and you caught it with your tongue, licking up to his belly button. His large hand came to your head and he led you back to swallowing him. You hummed in delight as you deepthroated him more and you could taste his precum on the back of your tongue.

"Felix, can I come inside?" Hyunjin's request was nearly breathless as he tried to hold his hips back from fucking his cock into your mouth more.

"Just in her mouth," Felix specified and Hyunjin looked down to see your eyebrows furrow in frustration, but you followed his rules. Pulling the length of Hyunjin's dick that went deep than your mouth out, you pumped your hand and looked up at him. Seeing your wide eyes pleadingly looking at him, Hyunjin swore and came in your mouth. You eagerly swallowed what he gave you, the sensation still wonderful despite not flowing straight down your throat. Once he was done, you pulled off him, licking the few drops that spurted out. He hadn't softened completely and he let your head go so you could scramble back over to Felix at the foot of the bed. You kneeled before your boyfriend and he ran his finger over the side of your mouth, catching a stray drop of Hyunjin's cum, and you sucked it off his finger.

"What do you say, love?"

"Thanks, Felix."

"And?" You turned to look at the other man.

"Thanks, Jinnie."

"Of course, darling."

"On your back, love." Felix prompted and you got up, getting on the bed and relaxing into a obviously practiced place.

"Come here." He motioned to Hyunjin who came over. You were on your back, butt right at the edge of the bed, the tail of the plug dangling down. Your legs were bent and spread so he had a perfect view of your soaking cunt.

"Fill her up." Felix prompted, continuing to undress till he was just in his boxers.

"Now?" Hyunjin was a little shocked. He expected to go at the same time as your boyfriend.

"Yeah." Felix shrugged and he watched as he went to kneel by your head and he understood what was going on. He came to the foot of the bed, his knees hitting the mattress and you whined as he rubbed the head of his cock through the lips of your cunt. He watched intensely as Felix placed the head of his dick at your lips and you whined again. Right as Felix started to fuck his cock into your mouth, Hyunjin pressed into your pussy. Your eyes rolled back as you adjusted your head, your boyfriend's delicious cock filling your mouth easily, then into your throat. He smirked, seeing your throat bulge around his cock and Hyunjin groaned at the sight as well, finally bottoming out inside you. Hyunjin was deep inside you, pressing up against your cervix as you swallowed Felix's length. You were in heaven as they began to thrust at the same time, Felix knowing just how to do it to not cut your air off too bad. At this angle he didn't go as deep as he could, your boyfriend knew you didn't love when his balls brushed over your face. Hyunjin marveled as you just laid there and took it, though, your painted nails were digging into the bedding.

"Do her harder." Felix prompted and Hyunjin grabbed your thighs and hitched your legs up to his hips and snapped his hips. You yelped around Felix's dick, your throat clenching perfectly around his head. Felix's low chuckle rumbled through you and Hyunjin grunted as your cunt clenched around him. Little did the other man know, the reason you were close to cumming was because of your boyfriend fucking your face. You couldn't count the number of times you fell apart just because he pumped cum down your gullet.

"I'm gonna cum, darling." Hyunjin grunted out, and almost forgot the rule. It was good enough that he got to fuck you raw though, he would be content painting your stomach and tits white instead. He pulled out, stroked himself twice then came over you. It was hot and Hyunjin watched your cunt flutter and drip as Felix held your throat softly, grunting as he too came. You swallowed over and over, your vision swimming from the lack of air, and you gasped to catch your breath when Felix withdrew. They both groaned at the sight of you, your torso and face covered in cum, drool still slipping out of the side of your mouth. Your muscles clenched around the still vibrating plug in your ass and Felix nodded at his friend.

"Take it out of her." He instructed, so Hyunjin kneeled down so he could watch better, and slowly pulled the plug out. You mewled at the feeling and the buzzing stopped when Felix tapped his phone.

"Throw it on the floor." He motioned to the side and so Hyunjin did just that. Felix originally wasn't going to allow the next move, but he wanted to spoil his love some. He tossed the red bottle to Hyunjin who caught it and looked over the label. Cherry flavored.

"She's clean…" Your boyfriend's tone was implicative. Hyunjin met his gaze, remembering earlier but his friend shrugged.

"You can taste." Hyunjin was more than willing to comply, so he opened the tube and squeezed a dollop onto two of his fingers. He circled your pucker and stuck his fingers in to coat your insides and groaned at the tight feeling. You shivered as he took his fingers back out and grabbed your thighs. Your cunt was dripping down the cleft of your ass, so Hyunjin leaned forward and licked a long path from your ass up to your clit. Your hips flinched and he smirked, descending again. His tongue swirled the entrance of your cunt, but he kept going. His tongue ran over the rim of your ass and you mewled when his tongue fucked in. The artificial cherry taste was more like candy than cough syrup luckily, and he loved feeling your muscles spasm around his tongue.

"Jinnie~" You moaned when his thumb rubbed over your clit, circling it. Felix watched intently, making note of every little move you made. You were shivering some, but that alone would not be enough to get you over the edge.

"Okay, help her up here." Felix snapped to get Hyunjin to stop when he didn't right away. He pulled back, licking the cherry off his lips and did as he was told. Scooping your limp body up into his arms, Hyunjin placed you at the head of the bed between him and Felix. Your back was to your boyfriend as you all laid on your sides.

"Kay, fill her pussy again." Felix held your leg up for his friend as his cock filled your cunt again. You moaned lightly and Hyunjin held your leg over his hip then, allowing your boyfriend to place the tip of his own dick at your lubed up pucker.

"Felix~" You keened, your nails digging into the flesh of Hyunjin's shoulders. Both men groaned at the tight clench of you with both of them inside you had to breathe purposefully to get used to the full stretch. You already feared getting addicted to the feeling. Without warning, Felix began to pump his hips, hard and shallow, Hyunjin falling into rhythm with him. When one was pulling out, the other thrusted in, not leaving you empty. Your breath hitched, you mewled and whimpered, then nearly squealed when their thrusts synced up and strengthened. Hyunjin's brow furrowed, his eyes closed and his sweaty skin brushed against yours. You scooted forward some so your tongue could run over his jaw and he huffed a laugh.

"She's such a good little slut, huh?" Felix smirked, licking over the ridge of your ear. His hands ran over your waist under the babydoll, your breasts jiggling with the force in the black cups of the bra.

"Shit, yes, so good~" Hyunjin groaned, reveling in your tongue tracing his collar bone.

"Get as deep as you can." Felix led, and you yiped as they both did so, just grinding into you. Immediately, Hyunjin felt the change, your cunt fluttered around him, squeezing even harder.

"Cum, love." Felix ordered and you fell over the edge. Hyunjin gasped, your cunt squirting onto his groin.

"Go ahead." Your boyfriend made eye contact with Hyunjin and let out a long moan and came inside. Felix filled your ass with his own hot cum and your fading orgasm restarted and you nearly blacked out. As you slipped in and out of conscious reality, you reveled in being in between them. You felt small, and safe, and content. At the same time Hyunjin and Felix both silently agreed that you belonged there, nestled in the middle of their embrace.

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[mikachacha]

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚢)

Synopsis: You know that Bada is already done with you and your relationship but you tried to hide your pain just to keep her. You tried to fool yourself but your world came crashing down when you accidentally saw a text from Redy, Bada's ex girlfriend.

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, some manipulation and gas lighting and this will be heavy so be advised 🥹🫶

(A/N: So uhhh please don't murder me after this one gets posted 😭 i cried making this but i like torturing myself and apparently other people so here it is 🤧)

(Edit: due to popular demand, there's a part two for this ❤)

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

You noticed a lot of changes between yours and Bada's relationship the past few weeks. She seemed more distance, always on her phone and has little to no time for you. Whenever you try and confront her about it, she'll just say that she's busy with work and you accepted that. Not until you received a call from Lusher asking where Bada is since she's rarely showing up at practices which confused you a lot. Bada always says that she's going to practice with the girls but apparently, she isn't. You couldn't answer Lusher and just ended the call, your tears streaming down your face as a sense of dread washed over you. Could it be that Bada is seeing someone else?

Hours felt like years as you waited for Bada to come home, you sat there, feeling so numb from all the thoughts racing through your head. When she finally came home, she looked at you, confused as you looked angry.

"Baby what's wrong? You look upset.." Bada asked and tried to kiss you but you pushed her away. You wanted to confront her, you wanted the truth out of her so you can ease your mind.

"Where have you been? Lusher called me earlier and she told me that you weren't coming to practices with them so where the hell have you been, Bada?!" you asked and she was taken aback by your outburst before wrapping her arms around you and placing kisses anywhere she could.

"Oh baby.. You're overthinking again.. I was actually with an upcoming girl group, I was chosen as their choreographer for their debut so I wasn't able to practice with Lusher and the girls.. Please don't be mad at me.." she says and you knew it was all a lie but you accepted it because you couldn't imagine yourself without Bada. You love her way too much and the thought of her leaving you scared you more than anything. So you let this one slide and hoped that your gut feeling is wrong with this.

Few days has passed and Bada has made it up to you, she has been incredibly sweet and made you feel so loved. She took some time off so she could stay home with you which made you happy and almost forget about all the pain you felt the past few weeks when she barely had time for you. You were awoken by Bada's alarm setting off but your girlfriend was still fast sleep so you reached out to her phone to turn it off. You squinted your eyes a bit to adjust to the phone's brightness but when you did, your blood ran cold. You saw a message from Redy, Bada's ex girlfriend.

“I love you and I miss you already 🥺” you read the text and your heart broke to pieces as it was confirmed to you that Bada is really seeing someone and not just anyone, it was Redy whom she claimed is just friends with her now.

You got out of bed and straight to the bathroom where you finally broke down crying. How can you be so dumb to believe that Bada and Redy just became best friends overnight? Now you feel stupid for sticking with Bada and believing all the lies she said to you even when the evidence of her being untrue is right there, clear as day.

Bada woke up when she heard sniffles and sobs from the bathroom then she saw her phone on your side of bed. Panic and dread washed over her, cursing at how stupid she is for not noticing her alarm and hiding Redy's text.

"Shit.. Y/N? Baby?" Bada knocked on the bathroom and tried to open it but you locked it, not ready to see her any time soon or hear her lame ass explanation.

"Leave, Bada! You and I are over! Go back crawling to your fucking friend!" you screamed and Bada knew that it really was over for you and her. With a sigh, she began packing her belongings and left your apartment while you sat in your bathroom, crying your eyes out.

Not even two weeks has passed when you heard that Bada and Redy are officially back together and it felt like a stab to the heart. It didn't even took her a month to move on from you, well she was moving on before you called it quits anyways, you're just way too stupid to not notice it. It pissed you off, it made you sick to the stomach that Bada's so proud to be with Redy but it took her months to admit that you guys are dating. You sighed, closing your eyes as you could feel sorrow wash over you again, as it had since the day Bada walked out of your life. She's so happy now, and you doubt that she'll ever be sorry for all the pain she made you feel.

[urdrowning]

Mearps fan to MEARPS fan can I request a Mary fic???

MEARPS FAN TO MEARPS FAN. I HOPE THIS IS GOOD. i live and breathe mary earps. (this is so short sorry i have ran out of inspiration fr.)

edits / m. earps

“have you seen this?”

you’re quickly met with a phone shoved in your face, causing you to flinch due to the pure velocity of the keeper’s movements.

“god, mary!”

she holds no sympathy for you as she laughs her signature cackle before continuing to force her phone into your face, attempting to get it as close to your eyes as she possibly can.

“look!”

you grab her arm and push the phone back slightly so you can adjust your eyes to the screen. once you do, you’re met with an edit of mary herself, to the song party monster (iykyk. i can share if u want)

“it’s a great edit, makes you look so much cooler than you actually are”

this grants you a smack to shoulder as you laugh at her and she fails to hold her own smile.

“there’s probably some of you on here as well, you know..”

she has a conspiratorial look on her face before she quickly turns back to her phone and types in your name.

you’re not on tiktok as frequently as mary is. to be honest, the whole idea of it scared the shit out of you. the thought of getting made fun of by a 15 year old in a comment section is enough to send shivers down your spine. despite this, you’ve made more than a few appearances in mary’s tiktoks. most of the time, it’s due to her wanting to try a new trend. she claims that it’s your job, as her girlfriend, to help.

“oh, please, no. i don’t wanna see this.”

you reach for her phone, trying to stop her from searching but she lifts it away from you, and you can see that she’s already typed in your last name. soon enough, plenty of videos appear and she wastes no time in clicking on the first one. (if it’s not a captain save a hoe edit i don’t want it)

“oh wow babe, they made you look hot!”

she’s glued to her phone, watching the edit on repeat. she quickly adds it to her likes and favourites before noticing your lack of response. you stare at her blankly and she turns her head away from the edit and looks at you.

“i cannot believe you’re watching edits of me right now. i’m right here!”

she laughs and kisses your cheek before turning back to her phone and scrolling to the next post.

“this version of you is better.”

“mary!”