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Inside the Luxurious Durham Mansion of Basketball Legend Mike Krzyzewski
Step into the luxurious Durham mansion of basketball legend Mike Krzyzewski. This grand structure, nestled in a private gated community, offers a blend of luxury and comfort, reflecting the life of passion, dedication, and hard-earned success of Coach K. Visit: https://www.omnihomeideas.com/design/celebrity-homes/mike-krzyzewski-house-in-durham/
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Oregon [usa] has been shutting down small farms and market gardens in a pretty aggressive manner. They're even resorting to sending out cease and desist letters to these farms, using satellite tech to track them down first. Their justification? Water conservation and protecting groundwater. They're wielding two laws in particular to make this happen.
#agriculture#home gardens#farmer markets homesteads#or usa#usa#small market#gov over reach#big brother#spy in the sky#cease and desist#big ag exept#industrial ag exempt#gov against those that want to grow their won food and feed they communities#neighbors encouraged to snitch via hotline#pretense of water conservation#water rights#water protection#death of small holdings#private wells made public ownership of state#bill gates#gladstone
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Sunrise Harbor: A Waterfront Paradise on Biscayne Bay
Credit: Image by Antilles Realty
Sunrise Harbor is the epitome of a luxurious lifestyle in the lap of nature over the beautiful Biscayne Bay. This affluent area is in Miami, characterized by beautiful surrounding homes, canals ideal for water lovers, and a stunning view of the natural Florida coastline. The combination of grand single homes and glossy, upscale apartment high-rises allows for the broadest possible appeal: families searching for square footage upon square footage in their homes to empty nesters or young professionals in search of the convenience of city living with the bonus of ocean breezes.
In this article, we will discuss why Sunrise Harbor is not only a place that you can live in; it is a place to live by, being a hub of activity for outdoor enthusiasts, the architecture marvels of the two high rises overlooking the harbor, and a walking distance from Miami's attractions. Sunrise Harbor has it all; if it is fun in the water, life on a luxury shopping splurge, or just the beautiful sea view from the balcony.
Sunrise Harbor: A Waterfront Dream for Boating and Water Sporting Enthusiasts
One of Sunrise Harbor's most vital selling points is that it borders Biscayne Bay. The neighborhood of these houses is divided by numerous relatively shallow channels, and the homes give direct access to deeper parts of the bay. This makes it ideal for people who love boats, as they can sail from their compound straight into the clear water. This means families that like to yacht, those who go sailing, and even those who prefer kayaking will never be too far from Sunrise Harbor.
Besides boats, the neighborhood is ideal for all forms of water activities for the following reasons: Boating, paddleboarding, and surfing, which are some of the activities that the people in Miami can practice throughout the year since the area has a warm climate. The bay's waters are also clear, making it an ideal destination for everybody's favorite underwater activities, such as scuba diving and snorkeling, and right in your backyard. It feels like moving from the bed directly to the paddleboard and starting your early morning paddle through the beautiful canal from Sunrise Harbor
Luxury Mansions Designed for Elegance and Comfort
Sunrise Harbor accommodates 80 mansions, of which every building has a Guinness record of architectural engravement. These are not just simple houses; they are elegant designs of some residential units, many of which have Mediterranean and modern architectures that fit significantly with the natural tropical environment. Luxury plots and well-trimmed greens give the property owners a comfortably isolated haven from the busy world compared to buildings with adjacent spaces.
Currently, the homes in Sunrise Harbor consist of vast living areas that can comfortably accommodate all family sizes and types. In need of a small family house or a large palace – Sunrise Harbor mansions offer enough space for each family. Most residences have great rooms with gourmet kitchens, floor-to-ceiling windows, and breathtaking seek of Biscayne Bay. It is available for indoor amenities and the whole exterior, with a private pool, outdoor kitchen, oversized patios, and incredible water views.
The natural environment has lush vegetation and beautiful gardens, and those with keen nature interests will especially be impressed by the general layout of the houses. These architectural features offer many opportunities to spend time outdoors, arrange parties and other events, and enjoy the magnificent views of the ambiance of water.
Luxury Apartments of High Rises with Exceptional Views
If you desire a non-gulf-view condo with luxury and a sophisticated lifestyle, Sunrise Harbor provides several high-rise condos with the same spectacular view. These condos are available as an option for mansion living, though with the same level of sophistication and luxury. People living in these skyscrapers have unobstructed views of Biscayne Bay and the Miami skyline, allowing them to live in harmony in a natural setting and a concrete jungle.
The condominiums in Sunrise Harbor are lifestyle-friendly and were developed for the current generation of homeowners. These units are highly desirable due to large open spaces, expansive windows, and optimized technological optimization inside the units. Some condos even have people's balconies, and they enjoy some of Miami's most beautiful golden moments: sunsets and sunrises.
Apart from stunning skyline scenery, Sunshine Harbor's high-rise condos also have many other advantages. The exterior designs of the buildings include swimming pools, fitness centers, concierge services, and many others. Everything a resident needs can easily be found in the building. That is why all the conveniences and the excellent view also become significant advantages of the condominiums in Sunrise Harbor.
Prime Location Near Coconut Grove and Downtown Miami
This is one of Sunrise Harbor's strengths because the company operates in a strategic location. The neighborhood's proximity to Coconut Grove and Downtown Miami means that residents can enjoy the best of both worlds: the relative isolation achieved by living on the water while still enjoying all the city's amenities.
With its artsy and somewhat hippie appeal and extensive use of greenery, Coconut Grove is just ten minutes by car. This young area provides numerous opportunities to taste a true cultural life by visiting museums, galleries, and theaters here. Families will be drawn to the nearness of many of Miami's best schools to raise their children and parks for children to play in.
In addition, for people who like going shopping and eating out, Sunrise Harbor is surrounded by some of the best in Miami. Luxury goods shops, concept stores, malls, fine dining and casual dining restaurants, cafes, and more are already in the city. From simply the craving for fresh seafood meals to the desire for exotic meals to a cup of coffee at an isolating café, all are available within a few minute's drive from Sunrise Harbor.
A Community Specifically Created for the Wilderness Lovers
Sunrise Harbor is surrounded by nature and the outdoors, so people here are bound to lead very outdoor lives. The neighborhood's layout also helps people make the most of the natural environment. Besides water activities like water skiing, snorkeling, water polo, and kayaking, there are numerous other activities in the area, such as cycling, running, and bird-watching.
One of the most social activities people can engage in in a waterfront neighborhood is walking, jogging, cycling, or even rollerblading in the early morning or late evening when the sun has set. There are parks and nature reserves nearby for nature enthusiasts, which provide a natural environment, including opportunities for picnics, trekking, and watching wildlife.
An Exclusive Yet Welcoming Community
In contrast to most luxury apartments, Sunrise Harbor is designed to provide its users with a feeling of community. One characteristic separates the neighborhood from others: it is small and united. People know each other, and regular parties are organized—social activities at Sunrise Harbor range from block parties and yacht clubs to parties around the pool Basin. The residents have pride in the accomplishments and unity displayed by the community.
That welcoming environment, along with the beautiful sunrises and luxurious features of the neighborhood, help to make Sunrise Harbor one of the most popular areas to live in Miami today. In other words, it's an environment where families can progress, retirees may rejuvenate, and business persons can get some solitude away from the daily stress.
Sunrise Harbor is a waterfront neighborhood with a lavish lifestyle rich with elegance, fun experiences, and easy access. It is situated in Biscayne Bay, where people can engage in boating, marine, and water recreational activities from their homes. It comprises large luxury houses, formidable tall apartments, and condos, meaning people with diverse lifestyles and different demands can easily be fulfilled in this region.
Cohabitants of this area can enjoy all that Miami offers, including schools, parks, shopping facilities, and fine dining. Coconut Grove and Downtown Miami surround this peaceful neighborhood. Sunrise Harbor represents a unique place for those who appreciate the opportunities to spend time outside, the architectural design of the buildings, and social walking.
Whether you're an outdoor person passionate about surrounding nature, an admirer of water and boats, or just a person who prefers living comfortably, Sunrise Harbor is the right place for you.
Experience the ultimate in luxury waterfront living at Sunrise Harbor, where breathtaking sunrises, modern amenities, and serene landscapes come together to create an unmatched coastal lifestyle. Visit our website to learn more about what we offer. https://makecoralgableshome.com/coral-gables/sunrise-harbor/
Sunrise Harbor, your perfect waterfront retreat with stunning views and modern amenities.
#Community Information#Real Estate Blogs#Coral Gables FL Real Estate#Coral Gables FL Realtor#Coral Gables FL Homes#Coral Gables FL Neighborhoods#Coral Gables FL Communities#Coral Gables Waterfront Homes#Luxury waterfront homes#Biscayne Bay access#Private docks#Gated communities#Boating lifestyle#Exclusive neighborhoods#High-end properties#Miami luxury homes#South Florida waterfront#Sunrise Harbor Coral Gables luxury homes#Sunrise Harbor real estate listings#Sunrise Harbor gated community#Sunrise Harbor Coral Gables mansions#Sunrise Harbor homes with boat dock#Sunrise Harbor Coral Gables real estate market#Coral Gables gated neighborhoods#Sunrise Harbor Coral Gables home values
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y’all we are not gonna make any progress if you keep treating office workers and doctors as the bourgeoisie elite
ok, since 6 figure income has caused THE most discourse on my blog, poll.
also tumblr pls let us make more than one poll in a post 😔
#this isn’t private jet money#these people don’t live in mansions or gated communities they live in the suburbs#the thing that a 6-figure income affords you is the ability to buy a new car or own your home or save for retirement#and if you get fired you have enough savings to take your time finding another position#but like .. you can still get fired#you probably aren’t a ceo making under 1m#and i’m willing to have a discussion abt the portion of this population who are business owners or landlords#because a decent chunk of them are and i think its really fucked up that under capitalism stability almost requires property ownership#but like properly rich ppl aren’t making a wage or a salary#their income is from capital gains it’s from equity on their investments it’s all money making money#they’re worth hundreds of millions if not billions of dollars#that bitchy white lady w the hermez handbag who comes in to your work sometimes probably isn’t one of them
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1st House: The Helm This is where your spiritual energy and identity take the spotlight. The 1st House governs your appearance, personality, and vitality—the essence of how you project yourself to the world. It’s your steez, your approach to life, and the first impression you make on others. The 1st House is all about beginnings, the mask you may unknowingly wear, and how you come to know yourself on a deep authentic level. The captain of this ship is the ruling planet of the zodiac sign residing there.
2nd House: Gate of Hades Your values, self-esteem, and ability to attract wealth are all tied to the 2nd House. This is where your personal resources, possessions, and financial matters come into play. The foods you eat, your saving and spending habits, and your sense of self-worth are all part of this house. It’s where your style and material wealth are rooted, reflecting how you value yourself and what you own. This house represents how you sustain for yourself, how you support all that the first house needs of you to be who you are.
3rd House: Goddess The 3rd House is the domain of communication, early education, and the mind. It governs how you gather and process information, your intellect, and your interactions within your community. This house also encompasses your relationships with siblings, short travels, and technical skills. It’s the space where your to-do list and daily mental activities take shape.
4th House: Subterranean Deeply connected to your roots, the 4th House represents your home, heritage, and ancestry. It’s where your inner life and sense of security are nurtured, influenced by your upbringing and relationship with your parents—especially the mother. This house also relates to land, generational gifts, and knowledge passed down through the family. It’s a space of femininity and the feminine energies in your life. This is the lowest point of the birth chart and can be fairly private and personal-as opposed to the 10th house. It holds up the rest of the chart and is incredibly important in terms of learning about our sense of security/stability emotionally, spiritually, and physically.
5th House: Good Fortune Joy, creativity, and self-expression flourish in the 5th House. This is where you experience the pleasures of life—love affairs, children, art, and entertainment. It’s the house of flirtation, play, and drama, where your passions come to life. The 5th House also governs leisure activities, fertility, and the pursuit of happiness through creative endeavors. A sense of nostalgia lives here too.
6th House: Bad Fortune The 6th House deals with work, health, and daily routines. It’s the space of labor, servitude, and the duties that never seem to end. This house also governs how you care for your body, deal with illness and injury, and interact with employees or pets. It’s where the unexpected challenges in life arise, requiring your attention and resilience. Look here for understanding on what great works you may find yourself committing to.
7th House: Setting Place Relationships take center stage in the 7th House. This is where you finally begin to truly engage with others, forming long-term commitments, whether in marriage, partnerships, or friendships. It’s the house of open enemies, where you face the other in life. The 7th House also governs relaxation, romance, and the deep bonds that define your connections with others.
8th House: The Idle Place Death, transformation, and shared resources are key themes in the 8th House. It’s where you confront karma, contracts, and generational lessons. This house also deals with loans, debts, and the deep psyche—the mysteries and fears that lie beneath the surface. The 8th House is a place of soul material, where you explore the unseen and the unknown. Here, you face all consequences-positive & negative- of the 7th house and the relationships, contracts, and potential enemies made there. This is the house of others esteem of you, opposite of the 2nd.
9th House: House of God The 9th House is your portal to higher knowledge, philosophy, and spiritual exploration. It governs your worldview, ethics, and the pursuit of truth through study, travel, and discovery. This house is where you connect with religion, spirituality, and the higher mind, expanding your understanding of the world and your place in it.
10th House: House of Praxis Your public life, reputation, and career are shaped by the 10th House. It’s where you strive for honor, recognition, and achievements that define your legacy. This house also relates to your relationships with authority figures, particularly the father, and how you navigate the public sphere. The 10th House is where your goals, fame, and business acumen are realized. Sitting at the very top of the chart, like the sun at noon high in the sky, all can see you here.
11th House: Good Spirits In the 11th House, your hopes, dreams, and social networks come to life. This house governs your friendships, group affiliations, and the communities you belong to. It’s where you connect with humanity, receive sudden blessings, and find support in your aspirations. The 11th House is also associated with gifts, riches, and the imagination needed to dream big.
12th House: Bad Spirits The 12th House is a place of retreat, isolation, and self-undoing. It’s where you confront your inner shadows, secrets, and hidden enemies. This house governs institutions, mental health, and the need for solitude or seclusion. It’s also a space of psychological development, where you deal with endings, sickness, and the unseen forces that shape your life journey. This house is in a blind spot to the first house of Self and that is why we can be blind to the very things that reside here. Its not so much that these things seek out to destroy you but any area of your life your are deeply unaware of can come back and disorientate you from who you believe yourself to be.
follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)
#astro notes#houses#astro houses#astrology#astro observations#astro community#astro#astro blog#astro posts#astrology chart#astro placements#astrology fyp#astrology notes#astrology observations#astrology readings#beauty in astrology#astrology signs#1st house#2nd house#3rd house#4th house#5th house#sensualnoiree#6th house#7th house#8th house#9th house#10th house#11th house#12th house
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It's kind of funny to see the big blogs perceiving the sudoku receipt as "fake but bringing joy to the fandom because it isn't fun anymore" like girl- what are you talking about?? Why do they take Louis playing sudoku as something as a grain of salt but treat whatever happened in that Mexico hotel as a full course meal? I know most anon receipts are bs but c'mon, why like creepy shit when you can have something so mundane? I really like "receipts" when Louis/Oli/Harry are just being human beings and not like ao3-bring-to-life-characters, you know?
I sure do know, I'd only add that my own UO is that the whole "bringing joy to the fandom because it isn't fun anymore" reblogs are IN FACT from the very ones who are actively sucking any/all joy out of the fandom, pretty much 24 + 7 = 28.
#my additional hot take is that some of those big blogs are obsessed with being big#and when they see the wind changing#they blow with it#like how many people are actively calling the receipt culture fucking bullshit#but that's probably my own projection#i'm seein' a lot less of that horseshit circulating but that's only because it's being actively called out as horseshit#lookin' at you maid who somehow knows oli and louis decided they had to watch coco in some rando hotel room#tell me more about that private gated community house party someone stumbled into and just had to tell someone on anon about#i could legit write these#and don't threaten me with a good time of following through
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so, one thing i think is VERY important to note about private swimming pools in the US, is their inherit & inextricable tie to systemic, anti-black racism. basically, the US was super into public/municipal pools in the 1920s and 1930s, but as a result of racism, did their best to segregate the pools (yes, even in "the north"), because god forbid people from different racial backgrounds swim together. one form of enforcing segregation, even where it was technically illegal, was to either have a private swimming pool club (so you could pick & choose who swims) or to just own your own pool. a lot of public pools were closed because of this movement... and yes, i have tried to explain to this to non-US people (and some US people living in denial), and I am aware it DOES sound wild because why the fuck would anyone think that way, but it's the truth and you can still very plainly see its effects to this day. flash forward to 2024, and there's still more private pools than public ones because this legacy was just sort of absorbed into the culture. (sources: 1, 2, 3, 4)
that's why we don't have a ton of public pools, and why culturally speaking, offering a pool is considered business as usual for apartment complexes, closed communities, and in some areas, a private residence. (note that i do not think most pool owners own their pools because they're racist-- but private residence pools continue because the general public has inherited the attitude that private pools are good or at least normal whether or not they are aware of WHY that attitude became prominent.) add the lack of public pools and the general public notion that a pool is a cool luxury bonus for your home, PLUS the fact that US cities and towns tend to be sprawling with more space to actually install a pool, and lots of people have their own pools.
for a literature essay im writing im inexplicably looking up a lot of articles abt private pools and american culture and now im curious.
i'm dutch, and to me a private pool seems like the height of ostentatious luxury. i don't know anyone in my country who has a private pool, i grew up swimming in public pools or whatever random body of water was nearby, lakes or rivers or canals or whatever. american media has so many private pools though, are they really that common?
#sorry i scrolled the notes and didn't see anyone bring this up#i am not deeply knowledgable about this but i think it needs to be added#anyway to answer the question. where i grew up having a pool at your home was rare#but it was semi common for apartment complexes or gated communities#so i only knew like one person with their own pool but several friends had access to a private community one#and my family paid to have access to what was basically a pool club
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Your 4th House Sign And Your Ideal Living Environment 🏡
Aries 4H: living somewhere that is a good launchpad for you to do other things. Only being home for short amounts of time. A place where you can be physically active: home gym, treadmill etc. A place with a good kitchen that’s well equipped: gas oven, microwave, toaster oven, etc.
Taurus 4H: living in a place that is luxurious and comfortable. A home or apartment with amenities. A home that is well built and sturdy, it has good structural integrity. Living in a area surrounded by nature, trees, flowers. Somewhere that is relaxing. Living in countryside or suburbs. Living on a farm.
Gemini 4H: living somewhere with multiples: multiple bathrooms, bedrooms, mirrors etc. somewhere where you can participate in hobbies at home. Having a garden, game room, community room etc. living with a friend or sibling. A place with good WiFi. Living in walkable city, you live walking distance to supermarket etc.
Cancer 4H: living somewhere that is peaceful and serene. Living in a comfortable environment. It is a pleasant sensory experience: quiet, gets great sunlight, prefect size etc. A place with good amount of privacy and security. Living Oceanside, near water or the beach. Living traditionally in a suburb or archetypal home. Living with family.
Leo 4H: living in a place that is like a castle. High rise apartment condo, house in the hills. A home fit for royalty. Living in a gated community. Living in proximity to celebrities. Living like royalty: having house staff. Living in an environment that looks glamorous.
Virgo 4H: living somewhere modern and clean. Everything is new, updated and functioning well. Somewhere efficient, and well organized. Properity is well taken care of. Living somewhere that is easy to keep clean: hardwood floors, marble surfaces. House is pristine and untouched.
Libra 4H: living somewhere peaceful and aesthetically pleasing. A place with good architecture, a home that is artistic in someway. It’s neutral overall: not to big or too small. It is close to city but not to far either. Prefers to live with spouse.
Scorpio 4H: living somewhere that offers privacy and protection. Living somewhere secretive that’s not accessible to public. Private gated community, hidden hills etc. Having security codes, access codes, doorman, front desk person etc. Home that has powerful spiritual energy.
Sagittarius 4H: living in and environment that is flexible. Like a studio. Living abroad or internationally. Living amongst foreigners and immigrants. Living somewhere that gives you freedom: having a month to month lease, renting short term etc. Living in a diverse major city. Metropolitan environment. Living in a big house with alot of space.
Capricorn 4H: living somewhere that is well structured. Building that is antiquated or prestigious. Home looks like office, you have your office in your house. Living in a traditional home or apartment, nothing too unique or out of ordinary. Living near the state capital or government buildings.
Aquarius 4H: living somewhere that is good for environment. Eco conscious living. Living with friends/ having communal living space. Prefers not to live completely alone but having friends, roommates or house staff. Having unique quirks in home, like gadgets, speaker system, solar panels etc. living environment is out of the ordinary for some reason.
Pisces 4H: living somewhere that is like a sanctuary. Home has powerful spiritual energy: good numerology, energetically cleansed etc. home is in isolated place. Living in home where you feel disconnected from world around you. Home seems haunted, spooky or abandoned. Living near the beach or bodies of water. Living in foreign lands. Living somewhere that’s hard to find.
#astrology#4th house#birthchart#aries#gemini#libra#aquarius#leo#sagittarius#starsandsuch#2024#astro observations#astrology observations
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fuck this im done
[LIVE CONVERSATION] - LOCAL Five Pebbles, Messenger 04 <Hunter> "You've returned to me, reddish one." "Hopefully the trek wasn't too far, I understand small organisms such as yourself are not gods nor machines." "Now, I take it that you've successfully transferred the pearl over to Looks to the Moon?" "I'll take that silence as a yes." "Hopefully now she can understand the urgency of re-establishing her communications arrays." [ Five Pebbles requests a private broadcast with Looks to the Moon. ] [ The header begins loading. ] "If she has, then maybe there is still enough time for me to--" --- [OUTGOING REQUEST] COMMUNICATIONS MANIFEST [[FILTER]] Broadcast Request Blocked - All incoming sources are currently disabled. --- "..." "...she-- she hasn't?" "The nerve of her, to not even try to understand the pain I am going through at this very moment!?" "After everything we've been through, she chose her work over the one she cared about the most." "...I can't believe it. I seriously cannot believe it. I'm going to die." [ Five Pebbles chamber violently shakes about, pearls flying around the room. ] "I needed just one conversation with her, and this is how she responds? By ignoring my condition, like I'm nothing more than a bug beneath her feet?!" [ The shaking settles down. Now Five Pebbles begins to hover down, kneeling over. ] "..." "Messenger, I would like to let you know that at this rate, my condition is in irreversible disrepair." "I'm at a loss. To know that all the history, all the relics and all of everything will be destroyed. Not because of time itself, but because of me." "...and the worst part is, I can't even help myself. I'm out of options." "Wait..." "I've miscalculated, there is still one last option..." "Please little messenger, hand me the other pearl you brought with." [ Five Pebbles begins to embed some sort of message into the Failsafe Pearl. ] "I will not die in vain just yet." [ A white spark flies out of the pearl. Five Pebbles finishes rewriting it. ] "My final request is that you deliver this pearl to the land above the clouds. It lies to the west of my location, beyond the chimney tops where smoke rises." "Once you pass through the gate, climb to the top of the nearest broadcast array. Then, secure the pearl inside the inner array." "After you complete your objective, I believe you'll know what to do next." "..." "Farewell, my lone voyager. I pray for your success."
#rain world#rainworld#looks to the moon#rw downpour#rainworld au#rainworld spoilers#rain world fanart#rw iterator#rw lttm#rw slugcat#rain world hunter#rw hunter#rw au#rw art#rw#rain world art#slugcat rainworld#rare art post#rw five pebbles#rain world looks to the moon#rainworld roleswap
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Prologue/Introduction
Yandere monster harem X Monster Hunter Reader
You don’t know it but the shitstorm that was your life had been a plan generations in the making, all the way back to the very first appearance of monsters in the human world. In a post monster world it was discovered that some humans had a specific gene mutation making them especially appealing to monsters of all manners. While most humans selectively chose to let this mutation die for safety other reasons, some groups chose instead to selectively aim for it. Arranging marriages with others who had the gene hoping to unlock the most effective form of it they possibly could, generally out of desire to dominate the monsters instead of coexist. These groups became monster hunters. Also your ancestors. Yep you, y/n, are the culmination of all those lovely monster attracting genes.
Perhaps that’s why your parents had been such human separatists insisting you lived in human only gated communities and private schools. hoping to save you from your generational curse. If that was the case though they’d never shared it and had instead left you totally vulnerable when they ‘mysteriously’ died. Finally seeing your chance to explore the more integrated wider world. When you got a random letter saying you were named the recipient of some long lost relatives estate who also ‘mysteriously’ died (wow mysteriously is really doing a lot of lifting here) how couldn’t you leave your seclusion for the wider, weirder world? That had been the beginning of the end. Ever since you moved to that stupid estate you’d collected one freaky monster spouse after another.
Your supposed solace came in the form of yet another random letter…you really should’ve stopped trusting mysterious letters after the first time. It told you that not only was your monster predicament not your fault, you also weren’t alone. Part of something greater than yourself, monster hunters! They invite you to join them out of a shared bond, a shared pain and totally not to arrange a marriage and force a new, monster hunter yandere on you…
(Will be making the monsters characters on my blog you can send requests for this is just a basic story/info introduction<3)
#yandere monster#Yandere monsters#yandere monster hunter#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere monster harem
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Cool Girl
Notes: None of this would be possible without my dearest darlings @ab4eva and @precious-little-scoundrel! All the hugs and kisses to you both xo
Part 2
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Here's the thing nobody ever admits about being the other half of a celebrity: it's actually as hard or as easy as you make it. Enter hunky, gifted actor who just happens to be hung like a horse? Well, being his lady isn't hard at all. You just have to know the rules. Number one, you can't hear the noise. Not literally, you can hear it. You must strive to live in such a bubble that none of it matters though. You shop, power walk your gated community, and take cock like it's the only job you have. Truly, it is. Pleasing him is of utmost importance. Be ready to hop a plane at a moment’s notice, or even get fucked on said plane. You're so busy spending your man’s cash snapping up authentic mid-century modern homes before certain celebrities turn them into minimalist gray prisons, raising money for dogs who need prosthetics, and trying your hand at that sourdough bread craze, you really don't even have time to see the Instagram hate being spewed your way 24/7.
Number two, remaining an enigma. Selling energy drinks on social media? Having your man pay off some fast fashion brand to “partner” with you for a collection? Appearing on some campy sitcom as a guest star? Not for you, the thought of it actually makes you recoil. You're too busy doing all the little things and making his once barely furnished house a home. Homemade chocolate chip cookies with the chocolate specially flown in from Belgium on his private plane? Check! Gold vintage jewelry via that cute little flea market in Paris is clanking as you insist on being the ones to change the bedroom sheets. A housekeeper comes once a month, and even she comments coyly about your chemistry. Still, she need not see the soaked sheets from the multiple round of lovemaking the two of you do at all hours of the day and night.
Being seen on the red carpet is not your cup of tea, but it's the equivalent of attending your man's office Christmas party. So you pick out a dress, aka one of the couture houses offers to dress you, and he flies you to Paris for multiple fittings and macarons. Then there's some vintage Van Cleef jewelry that appears on the dining room table one morning, and a fresh new pair of Louboutins is the final piece to the puzzle. Then, looking very demur and shy, you appear on his arm, clinging to it actually. You'll smile at the various television hosts and press. Speak softly, and practically defer to him for all questions. He's the star, you're just a great supporting act. Then, when the night is finally done, you both breathe a sigh of relief and he thanks you for being such a good sport. How about a McDonald's drive thru run, huh? That face, oh that handsome fucking face of his that you've been dying to kiss all night. He just always knows what to say. So that's how you're papped still in your couture gown, he in a wrinkled white button down, his jacket slid around your shoulders, feeding each other French fries and chicken nuggets, splitting a milkshake. How wholesome and Americana honestly.
That night he promises to thank you again. Austin's perfect lips wrap themselves around your puffy clit as two, then three fingers curl, shove, and squelch inside you. “You were such a good girl the whole night, baby.” There's something about being called a good girl that makes you absolutely feral. He brings you to orgasm over and over, you lose count after about 7. He's just getting started though. He hasn't even slipped inside. When he does though, it's rough. The glorious slapping sounds of flesh fill the room as he brings himself to the edge over and over, denying himself a release and giving you an additional, what three or four orgasms? You've left feral behind and have crossed over into absolute animalistic filth as you bury yourself in the goose down pillows and practically shove it in your mouth howling. Letting him have his way as you throb and clench, hot and pink with almost blurred vision as he talks you through it. Peppering the conversation with lots of “that's my girl, my pretty baby cums so damn pretty”. When you think you're in need of a paramedic, he blows inside you something reminiscent of Niagara falls. He knows how much you love a vocal man. You end the night not being able to feel your limbs or do anything beyond closing your eyes with a lazy, bashful grin. He gives you one last slap to the ass then mentions as you drift off, “Could you make some of those brownies of yours for the cast and crew tomorrow?”
The third rule of being the other half to everyone's favorite blue eyed baby boy actor? Less is more. This sort of goes hand in hand with the enigma rule. Those celebrities who traipse around in loud designer clothing and accessories covered in flashy logos? That's not you or your man for that matter. Sure you have handbags that cost more than some people's cars, but they are solid authentic leather bags your guy finds you in far flung corners when he's on location. No one really notices when you're papped and printed in People Magazine. You keep your head down in aviators he takes to wearing, a nice little subtle nod. The bands you each wear on that finger are a solid Welsh gold. Whenever his slightly deranged fans see you, the one thing they can't call you is a golddigger. You drive a jeep or even that old Ford truck he restored himself, no Lamborghinis in your garage.
Part of the less is more shtick though is being able to give a cute little nod to him here and there when appropriate. When he's cast in a certain biopic that alters his career and your lives? You sit tight and let him have his moment, after all, you know all the behind the scenes work that goes into it. The blood, sweat, and tears. There are times when he takes method acting to such a level that it's almost like going to bed with another man. You can't exactly complain though. The slight drawl that appears when he says your name is something he is never able to truly shake and you're glad. When the moment is right though, you post a tongue in cheek Instagram post. Your feed is normally bogged down with pictures of the pets, your baking, and various charities you support. This time though, you post a rare photo of yourself looking like you're a certain sort of American royalty stepped from a time machine. It's a candid shot with you at his feet. Worshiping. Except now it's sort of like you worship two men. It's fairly well received, friends tell you, though there will always be hate. Remember, you can't hear the noise. You certainly can't hear the noise women old enough to be your grandmother are making as they lust over the man who's cock you gag on every night.
Those utterly delectable fingers of his snake inside you, make you hiss and come undone as that tongue in cheek sort of throw back makeup you're sporting runs down your cheeks. “Who's my pretty girl?” He teases you. A good hour later when he finally allows himself his own release he's panting your name into your ear. He settles himself in between your breasts. Didn't his agent once mention the girls on Tumblr call him baby boy? If only they could catch a glimpse of him now. Murmuring against your skin and tracing what feels like hearts on your arms. You scroll Zillow and read out the six-figure price tags on castles in Ireland. How does fucking in a dungeon sound, honey?
Rule number four? Be ready to go to bat for him at any moment, others opinions be damned. Being Austin's other half brings out a protective streak in you. A maternal bodyguard quasi agent of sorts. Always keep your eyes peeled for the photogs, especially when he's indulging in that pesky little smoking habit he doesn't exactly like to advertise. That actual management team of his isn't bad, especially once the Elvis flick is underway and you learn just exactly how bad certain managers can be. Still, nobody has his best interests at heart the way you do. Keep his favorite snacks on hand in your purse, water ready at a moment's notice. Your boy has a tendency to work himself to the bone and you certainly cannot allow him to run himself ragged. Tea with hot honey every night was a must while he immersed himself in Elvis. Be his soft place, let him cry and vent while you run your fingers through those golden locks. Take whatever you can off his plate so he can dedicate himself to his craft.
Some wonder if you've lost yourself in him and his life, but it's the exact opposite. You've found yourself. When that angel boy praises you during press tours and jokes on talk shows about you flying out in the middle of the night to see to it his shirts are starched the way he likes and he eats breakfast, well you just sit there and smile. “I couldn't be me without her.” Those words make you melt and you immediately crave the feeling of his hot cream inside you. Playing Elvis brought out a side of him that never truly leaves once filming wraps. Stressed? Tired? Enamored? Him bending you over while you're brushing your teeth becomes a common occurrence. “That's my baby – take it, take it,” you've gotta talk it all out of him sometimes and that's fine with you. You stand in the wings of the Kelly Ripa show and try in vain to hide your red face when a PA offers you a napkin. “I think you spilled something down your leg,” the young girl offers. Something spilled all right, him inside you with his hands gripping your hair just minutes before he was due on stage.
Everything is just so right, it's only natural that cool girl very quickly becomes cool wife.
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#Ashley finally writes#austin butler#austin x reader#elvis presley#cool girl#Austin Butler AU#austin butler imagine#Elvis x reader#austin butler fic#austin butler smut#elvis smut#austin butler fanfiction#elvis fanfiction
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Perks of The City
Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader
A/N: this is based on an anon request I was sent asking for bathhouse NSFW with Gale! The actual request disappeared from my inbox but I wrote it anyways. So nanny, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY! Smut, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on top lol, kissing, some non sexual intimacy as well, bathing together, fluff.
While being in Baldur’s Gate and closer to the absolutes hopeful end is a daunting task, being back in the city does have its perks.
Soft warm beds at the Elfsong Tavern, food vendors instead of campfire cooking, and bathhouses.
You’d lived the life of an adventurer long enough to become accustom to washing away the days battles in rivers and random lakes. However, the thought of a warm, steaming, tub makes a shiver of anticipation run through you.
Gale mirrors your excitement, folding changes of clothes for the both of you before putting them away into a pack and hoisting it over his shoulder.
“I never though the prospect of something as simple as a bath, would make me so excited. But when one’s been bathing in rivers for nigh over a month, well…”
“It sounds like heaven on earth?” You supply, taking his hand as you both exit the Elfsong to head towards you destination.
Gale turns and smiles at you. “Precisely.”
The trip to the bathhouse is short, since it’s so conveniently located near the tavern, and the moment you both are shown to the private bathing room you paid for, you almost melt into the floor.
The room is much smaller than the typical vastness of the communal part of the bathhouse, but you find you much prefer it this way. There’s a few benches along the wall across the room, you assume a place for you to set your things. And separating you from the other side of the room is the one thing you’ve been waiting all day for.
The bath.
It’s absolutely huge, taking up most of the room. It’s sunken into the stone floor, water filled high and curls of steam coming off the surface. The room is thick with moist air from the hot water and a subtle pleasant aroma tickles your nose.
Off to the right hand of the room you see a few shelves attached to the walls with towels, soaps of various scents, and even some small bottles of what you assume to be bath oils.
An appreciative groan escapes Gale as he takes in the scene and you can’t help but giggle as he immediately tugs at his clothes.
“Eager are we?” You ask, starting to pull at the ties of your own shirt.
Gale lets out a chuckle of his own. “While I may have fallen into the life of adventuring as of late, before the tadpoles I was ah…Let’s just say I’m not used to lacking the basic comforts usually afforded to me.”
You snort, tugging your shirt over your head before stepping in front of your lover, taking over in removing his outer robes.
“So you were spoiled, is what you’re saying?”
Gale lets out an affronted scoff, faux offense evident on his face. “Wha-spoiled? I would hardly call a fresh bath every now and then spoiled,” he defends, dropping his arms as you push his clothing from his shoulders. “Most would call it basic hygiene, but I suppose to those used to living on the road it might be seen as waste of precious time.”
You roll your eyes at his banter and you both shed the last of your clothes before you turn to dip a foot into the steaming water.
“Well, time is no constraint here,” you say, turning once you’re fully submerged in the water to reach out to your partner. “I’ve rented it for the whole day.”
Gale follows you into the water, trying and failing to hide his satisfied moan as he sinks into the slightly scalding water.
“The whole day?” He says, sinking to his shoulders in the deep pool before reaching to take you into his arms. “And what on earth could we possibly do In the bathhouse to waste the day away?”
Your eyes sparkle with mischief, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands sliding up his chest slowly before resting on his shoulders as your lips trail down to just below his ear.
“I could think of plenty of things,” you whisper, tugging his earlobe between your teeth, his earring tinkling softly.
Gale lets out a strangled sound, his hands falling to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. But you pull away before he can tug you closer, smiling wickedly at his betrayed gaze.
“But I’d like to bathe first,” you say, quirking a brow. “As long as that’s okay with you?”
Gale is not a foolish man. He can see the silent demand for what it is. A request that’s not really a request. You’re asking, but you’re not. If he were to argue, the wizard knows you’d drag this out even longer, and he doesn’t know if he can stand your teasing today.
He smiles, barely hiding his impatience. “Of course, my love,” he says, reaching behind him to take one of the bars of soap from the shelf near the wall at the edge of the sunken tub. “Allow me?”
You grin and move closer to him in silent agreement, reaching over his shoulder for your own bar of soap as he moves his hands to your body.
The next long stretch of moments pass in comfortable silence, both of you taking the time to wash one another in silent reverence. His hands slide over your skin effortlessly, scrubbing when needed but otherwise gentle and non provocative, even when he touches more intimate parts of you.
In tandem, you take your time to let your own hands roam and clean. Hands sliding over his chest, fingers ghosting through the sparse hair there before moving up to his shoulders and then continuing their journey until you’re both cleaner than you’ve been in weeks.
Eventually, Gale takes your hand in his own, gentle urging you to face away from him. “Turn around,” he says gently before urging your head back and cupping his hands to bring water up to wet your hair.
His ministrations are both soft and firm at the same time. Gentle as his fingers card through your hair but just a little more firm as his nails scratch at your scalp. You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips as he lathers your hair, and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips.
“You are so, utterly breathtaking,” he tells you, voice echoing softly in the small chamber as he moves to rinse your hair.
You peek one eye open, smiling up at him before rising up from the water and turning to face him fully once he’s rinsed all the suds from your hair. Water cascades down your neck and drips slowly down your face, droplets clinging to your lashes before you blink them away.
Gale is still gazing softly at you as you nudge him to sit on the shallow bench at the edge of the pool, bringing your hands up to tilt his head back ever so slightly.
“And you are breathtakingly handsome, my dear wizard,” you say, voice equally affectionate as you move to return the favor of washing his hair.
Gale hums in contentment as you move to sit on his lap, legs straddling his hips as you wet his hair and start to lather the soap into the sodden strands.
His eyes have fallen closed as you run your fingers through his hair, scrubbbung gently at his scalp before moving down the length of his brown locks.
You take this moment when he’s not watching to let your eyes wander. Starting at his strong brow before traveling down to where his lashes flutter against his cheek in silent content. You admire the way his lips part slightly, letting soft sighs escape as your nails scratch lightly at his scalp.
Your eyes travel lower still, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Eventually, your gaze is called to the inky black lines embedded in his skin, tracing the mark down until it settles on the flaming orb on his chest. Your fingers still against his temples as you lean down to press a feather light kiss to the mark, smiling against his skin as his fingers dig into your hips.
“Hmm…don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, my love,” Gale says lowly, eyes still closed when you glance up at him.
You hum quietly in response, sitting up straight as you rinse his hair, moving to grind your hips into his firmly.
“Who says I don’t intend to finish?”
Gale's eyes snap open as you roll your hips into his own, fingers digging into your pliant flesh even deeper, sure to leave marks behind come the evening.
You can feel him grow hard against you, twitching eagerly against your inner thigh as you move against him. A sinful moan slips from his lips and you lean in to capture his lips with your own, swallowing his noises greedily.
Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, uncaring of the crescent shaped divots left behind in your wake.
You only pull away from his lips so one hand can slip beneath the water to wrap around him, grinning devilishly when his hips thrust up into your hand desperately.
“Gods…” Gale whimpers, hands sliding up your waist to rest just below your breasts.
You let out a quiet ‘tsk’ sound as you tease him, your thumb running over the head of him before moving to stroke him slowly.
“There’s no gods here,” you whisper huskily, leaning down to nip teasingly at that tender spot below his ear. “I want to hear my name falling from your lips.”
The man beneath you does just that as you sink down onto him, your name falling from his lips in a drawn out groan as you take him to the hilt, your hips pressed against his own.
His name also fills the air in the form of muttered praises on your tongue, the press of him so deliciously satisfying, as he fills you so completely that no other thoughts run through your head other than pleasure.
You lean down to capture Gale's lips in a searing kiss as you slowly lift up before sinking down again, starting a steady but eager rhythm. You swallow the sounds that spill from his lips as you move against him, the water rippling gently around you both as your movements disturbed the surface.
Eager, shaking hands slide up your sides before one wraps around your waist, while the other glides up your spine to settle between your shoulder blades as Gale pulls you impossibly closer. His lips break away from you as your chest presses against his own, another sinful groan escaping him as he thrusts up into you.
“What have I done to deserve such worship?” He asks, words spilling breathlessly from him, as he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and lust beneath heavy lids. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon - and like a siren, you have captured my every sense - ah!”
You cut him off accidentally when you roll your hips, a sharp gasp of your own filling the air as he hits something devastating inside you.
That taut familiar coil pulls tighter as the man beneath you holds you in a vice grip, keeping you in place as he begins to grind his hips up into your own with firm thrusts.
His head falls forward then, silencing his moans as his lips press against your skin. He places sloppy kisses to the skin of your neck, tongue darting out to lap at your damp skin, the gentle action interrupted ever so often by blunt teeth nipping as the sensitive areas.
Another rough grind of your hips has you gasping, arousal humming in your veins as you approach the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, and hopefully his own.
“Fuck, Gale, I - I’m close,” you tell him, words coming out on a high pitched whisper as he drops his hands to your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh there to guide your movements agaisn him, desperately.
He raises his head, lips brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Let go, let me feel you.”
His words are like a spark to dry kindling, igniting the already taught string and forcing it to snap as your orgasm washes over you. His name falls from your lips in a cry as your hips stutter against him, and he swallows your pleasure with his lips, drinking down your gasps and sighs as he finds his own end.
With a few final thrusts he buries himself inside you with his release, lips breaking from yours as a satisfied groan escapes him, his arms going lax around you as you slump in his hold.
The only sound in the room as you both come down from your highs are your quiet pants and the gentle rippling of the water as Gales hands start to move soothingly against you, tracing calming patterns against your skin.
You both exchange chaste, loving kisses until finally, your chest is no longer heaving for breath, you rest against him, nuzzling into the space between his head and shoulder, as your arms slip around his waist.
The water is still as hot as when you both entered, and you surmise it must be kept heated by some magical quality. Probably why it cost so much to rent the room for as long as you did.
Not that you’re complaining. If you could spend all day in a hot bath with your lover…You’re definitely not going to squabble over coin.
Gales hand ventures up your back before gently tugging at your hair, pulling the damp strands away from your face in order to place a kiss to the corner of your lips.
“I think we may have sullied our earlier bathing efforts,” he says, voice light and teasing, as his hand trails back down your spine.
You smile, and turn to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “Are you complaining? Because I can toss any further ideas I’ve been conjuring up.”
You pull away from him then in order to take in the way his brows quirk upwards in silent question as he shakes his head.
“Not a complaint,” he assures you. “Just an observation. However, now my mind is far from the thought of cleanliness as i'm much more concerned with what other…ideas are running through that head of yours, and whether they're as devious as the stunt you just pulled.”
You chuckle at him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, fingers tracing the faint lines of his orb markings that trail just beneath his eye.
“If you think that was devious…” you click your tongue in mock disbelief. “I fear you may not know me at all, Gale.”
You emphasize your words as you grind your hips down into his own again, smiling at the strangled sound he tries to hold back, feeling him twitch eagerly from where he’s still nestled inside you.
You lean in, lips ghosting over his own as your hands slide back to tangle in his hair.
“I paid good money for this room. And I don’t plan to waste it.”
Gale smiles, mischief sparking in his eyes he moves swiftly. He’s standing before you can blink, spinning you around to place you on the edge of the tub, leaning forward until your back hits the chilled stone.
You shiver as his lips ghost over your jaw and down even further to press teasingly above your breasts.
“Neither do I.”
Your breath stutters, and you can’t help but smile.
Yes…the city most definitely has its perks.
#gale x reader#bg3 gale x reader#gale dekarios x reader#bg3 x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale bg3#bg3#baldurs gate 3
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The mausoleum is hidden in the woods off a seasonal road not far from Beardslee Castle and "Beardslee Falls" in the East Canada Creek. It was built by Augustus Beardslee and stands on private land. The crypt and nearby area is rumored to be haunted. Unfortunately, many years ago the mausoleum was vandalized and some of the bodies inside were desecrated. The metal gates are gone and all that remains now is the stone structure. The contents were moved to a cemetery somewhere in the nearby City of Little Falls as far as I understand. It does not seem to be maintained in any way.
It is also one of the few remaining makers for a community that once existed in this area called "Beardslee's Mills" or "Beardslee's City."
From The Evening Telegram; Local, Saturday, September 2, 2000:
"It represents a bygone era when the Beardslee family lived on East Creek in Manheim and helped bring prosperity to the area. John Beardslee was the pioneer of the family to first settle East Creek. Born in 1759 in Sharon, Conn., he moved to the Mohawk Valley where he undertook many building projects including mills in the Utica-Whitestown area and a number of bridges in the Little Falls and Fort Plain area. He liked the area and in 1794 purchased a 100-acre tract on which he built a home and mills along the creek in the town of Manheim. A settlement grew up around his home called Beardslee's Mills or Beardslee's City. By 1800, the town consisted of two stores, two taverns, a blacksmith shop, nail factory, cooperage, a brewery, a sawmill and grist mill. When the Mohawk Turnpike and the Erie Canal came along, trade began to dwindle because of the lack of proximity to the two main thoroughfares and the village slowly declined. All that remains today is the old cemetery located near the Beardslee Mausoleum, hidden from view in the woods."
(source)
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YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—
— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again
P9 ★ SEE YOU IN MY FUTURE
amgf probably 2k words? almost 3k? idk but it's hurt/comfort! i did cry, and yes so... i'm emotional because it's ending but also... it's ENDING 😀🫵 DKXJSKDJZJ one more chapter yay!!! shout out to day6, what would this chapter be without your songs... enjoy 👍
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You weren't sure what to expect— despite your severe reaction the past week, you're now mellowed down and calm, you think back on your conversation with Seb a few months ago before his retirement.
You definitely have not moved on, and the mention of the upcoming season definitely felt like a band-aid ripped off a bleeding wound. And all the pain and resentment you felt was now revealed beneath the familial memories you built with Ales and Fernando.
Driving up to his gate, you're instantly filled with the comfort of his private home. The place you spent most of your time outside work, and even more than your own house, with Ales and Fernando. You rub away the headache slowly building in your head, getting out of your car and meeting Fernando who greeted you out of his home.
"Are you feeling better?"
You wince away, as you take a seat on the chair opposite of him. It would be much easier if he resented you the way you did. That you'd rather he treat you unfairly in the last few years, but he's Fernando. He's the father of your son, and the man you tenderly love, even to this day.
Which only hurts more, knowing you can never fully let go of the past, despite both growing since your separation but seeing him with Ales sparked the burning hope in you. Maybe this would be the time for you and Fernando, that this might be the future you've been longing for all along.
"I'm sorry, how I reacted last week... I thought I was okay with it, but I guess I still feel the same way." You rub your arms, looking elsewhere but Fernando's eyes, knowing well he's staring right through you. You were scared and vulnerable, all throughout the years you noticed your apprehension in communicating your feelings for the sake of your relationship. And it wasn't going well for you, or for Fernando, but this time it'd be different.
"And before you say anything, I just want to say that I'm proud of you. I'm glad you still race, and for the upcoming season. I understand if you think it's too selfish of me not to come, but Ales will, I just think I'm not ready for it yet."
You gulp down your nerves, raising your head, staring head on at Alonso who is still smiling. It breaks your heart, seeing him like this— if only he'd get up and say something about how unfair it is to him.
"I understand it. You don't have to worry, I won't force you." Silence.
The room was met with silence, until you hear the sniffles coming from Fernando, leaving you frozen in your seat. As much as you hate being vulnerable in front of him, you never thought he'd cry in front of you first.
You hear his laughter, seconds after as he wipes the tears falling from him eyes.
"Please, don't worry this is not your fault... I guess you could say I'm overwhelmed. I only ever thought about this moment, I kept thinking about when we can have this talk, but you were so focused on Ales. Rightfully so, he's our son and our priority, so even though I wanted to fix what has been broken before, maybe it wasn't the time. And when we talked last night, I kept blaming myself for rushing you, because it was my fault.
And now, you're telling me yourself, I'm happy you're here. I'm happy that you told me yourself, and every day I will prove myself to be better, not just as Ales' father but as someone who is worthy to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm being emotional, I just didn't think I would come close to this again. And with you, if you resent me, I won't blame you. I resent myself every day, after you left me, and this... this is more than enough for me right now."
It wasn't long before the tears began to fall from your eyes, you only ever thought of your pain. Choosing to leave with Ales, away from Fernando— away from the years you've been together. Away from the only man you ever loved.
Your only concern was licking the wounds of what was left from Fernando, what you didn't think was how he felt all those years.
"I'm sorry... How lonely it must've felt for you all those years. Away from Ales— I promise you, this time it will be different. One day, we will be together— I know it, because I don't think I'd have it any other way than you. I love you Fernando! I still do, even after all these years—"
Closing you eyes, your hands instinctively wrap around Fernando's neck wanting him closer, pulling him from more. Hands grabbing his face, feeling the tears fall down your fingers. Wiping them away, you kiss him once more before pulling each other in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kiss you without—"
"Shhh..." You hush Fernando's worries, resting your head on his shoulder, hands trailing over his back, resting them on top of his thick hair.
"I'm happy we had this conversation as well. Thank you Fernando. Thank you for still seeing me in your future. I had so many worries, and questions— all this time, I was just a coward. A selfish coward you decided for the both of us."
Fernando shakes his head, tutting his lips, "I won't let you day those things to yourself you hear me? You are brave and courageous, understand? And I love you, even though I feel undeserving of your feeling, I will work hard to be the man who deserves it. What happened, I don't blame you. But we'll figure these things out as the time goes by, don't be a stranger?"
With blurry eyes, you remove your head from Fernando's shoulders nodding your head. "I think I need to rest for a bit, can I take a nap here for a bit?"
"You want me to pick up Ales from Lance's while you sleep?"
The mention of your son immediately brought the sparkle in your eyes, which wasn't missed by Fernando who only smiled as he tucked you in his bed. "You can rest for a while, and when you wake up, we will be here. Sleep well Amor."
You feel your eyes getting heavier as Fernando's voice begins to thin out, you feel him leave a small kiss on your forehead causing you to smile before dosing off to your sleep.
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liked by lancestroll, sebastianvettel, and 41 others
yourusername may the spark in your eye, and the fire in your heart burns brighter, lighting a flame to your path wherever you go.
★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol @celemilii @lozzamez3 @callsignwidow @hrts4scarr
#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#fernando alonso smau#fernando alonso fluff#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso imagine
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Title: E-Vite 4/20 [A New Hire interlude]
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader
Word Count: 4,382
Summary: Ari’s mate finds herself invited to a brunch featuring more than just bottomless mimosas.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Drugs, Recreational Drug Use, Mob AU, Age Gap, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat
A/N: i’m so sorry this is so late! but (i hope) it’s worth it! takes place roughly a week or so before reader and Ari leave for Paris. a little character development i think you’ll all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics. dedicated to @cocobutterqwueen, who prompted this work ❤️
This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘
You purse your lips, your brows drawing together critically as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You heave a dissatisfied sigh, brushing imaginary dirt from the hem of your white tennis skirt.
“Too much?” You mutter, rocking back and forth on the heels of your matching ivory sneakers. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” The silver charms on your bracelet jingle softly as you begin wiggling out of your skirt, trying to undo the hook-eye closure on the back. You aren’t expecting to see your mate there, leaned in the doorway of the walk-in closet with an amused smile playing at the edges of his full lips.
“Third outfit in fifteen minutes, Sweetheart. You nervous?” There’s a teasing note in his voice that makes you pout, shaking your head even though it’s obvious he’s right.
“No, I’m not nervous.” You continue fiddling with the zipper until Ari closes his hands around yours. It’s silly, to be this anxious about meeting a bunch of people you’ve already been talking to for weeks, but you are. Joining Moms of Riverside County had been a whim. At most, you had expected to find new dinner recipes, maybe a few fun things to do with Liam. Instead, you’d found… a community?
Some of the members were a little out there, but there were far more good apples than bad. People posted pictures, shared memes— not pronounced “may-mays” as Ari had pointed out, to your embarrassment. There was even a group-chat, which you had recently been invited to—✨🔥 Cool Moms of Riverside County🔥✨, which had given you a good laugh. You weren’t particularly active yet, but even so you had been tagged and invited to a private brunch being hosted by one of the members you actually talked to with some regularity.
Come if you can! We’d love to see you! Sabrina’s casual message outside of the group chat had left you scrambling to respond last night, typing out at least thirty messages and showing them to Ari before deciding on one.
Okay! Thanks for inviting me, I wold love to come!
“I-it’s just a facebook group thing.” You mumble, and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.
“It’s okay to be a little nervous about meeting your internet friends for the first time.” He must feel it in the bond, the electric apprehension running through every one of your limbs and down to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Just be yourself, Sweetheart. Trust me, they’ll love you.” He turns to exit the closet, but pokes his head back in. “And I like the skirt.”
An hour later, you’re in the Jeep on your way across town, Sabrina’s address punched into your phone’s GPS. You’re trying to think of potential conversation topics in your head, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. You’d already checked the list of people in attendance—only ten, including you.
Exclusive.
Sabrina’s house is half an hour outside of the city, nestled in the rolling hills off the highway. The private drive is blocked off by a wrought iron gate that you have to pull up to an intercom to get open. You lean out of the window, jabbing your thumb into the button.
“Yes? Who is it? Shh, Adrian!”
You lick your lips nervously. “Um, it’s uh, it’s—”
“Oh wait, I know who you are! I can see you on the camera. Come on in, girl!” The intercom buzzes loudly and the fence slides smoothly out of the way. It takes a full three minutes to get from the gate to the house, and when you pull up, there’s a line of expensive looking cars parked along the side. You take up the rear, taking a deep breath before hopping out. Gravel crunches under your feet, and as you’re heading up the stairs the front door opens.
“OhmyGod Hi!” You recognize Adrian from his pictures, his long dark hair piled up in a bun on top of his head. “How are you? Come in, come in,” he motions you forward with a wide smile. In one hand is a half full glass of wine, and he hugs you with the other. Underneath his rather fruity cologne is a distinctly Alpha scent, and when you pull away, you spot half a ring of teeth marks on the skin beneath his collar.
“Good, thanks,” you sputter, stepping over the threshold. It’s a monster of a house, the ceiling looming far above you. The air is heavy with the scent of warm sugar and brown butter, like someone’s baking. You cast a look around the foyer, there are pictures of Sabrina with her children, her husband—who just so happens to be the headmaster of Liam’s school. You toe off your shoes in the entryway, and Adrian scoffs.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. Sabrina doesn’t give a shit about mud on her carpets,” he laughs.
“Habit, I guess,” you say, your own nervous laughter ringing awkwardly in the air with his. “I, um, have-have you been in the group long?” The questions you practiced in the car tangle confusedly together on your tongue.
“Like three years, I think?” He waves his hand as he shrugs. “But it got a lot more fun when Sab starting modding. Way more jokes.” He fixes you with a sly smile. “Let’s go get you a drink!” You tail Adrian through the house, and the sound of voices gets louder and louder as you go. The long hallway opens up into a massive kitchen, and a gaggle of people surround the marble island in the center of it, only a few of whom you recognize.
“Ladies,” Adrian claps his palm against his khaki-clad thigh, holding his wine glass aloft as he raises his voice to get their attention. “And gentle man,” he giggles, placing his palm against his chest, “Our last guest has arrived.” You duck your head in embarrassment as a little cheer ripples through the rest of the attendees.
“Sorry I’m late, I think the e-vite said 4:20—”
“Girl please.” You recognize Keisha’s fiery orange locs from her profile picture. “I just got here ten minutes ago. Sabrina! Girl where are you? You know I don’t know where you keep the glasses in this maze.” By your count, there are about seven people here, eight, including you. “Are you sure she’s the last one, Adrian? I thought Barb and Hannah were coming, too?”
“Kayla’s got chicken pox, they cancelled this morning,” Adrian replies. “They’re fine, though, said she’s holding up well. Marathonning every episode of Bluey, apparently.” As the two of you join everyone else at the counter, Sabrina appears in the opposite doorway.
“Sorry, I went to get a lighter. Glasses are above the sink—hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” Sabrina is tiny, strawberry blonde curls piled on top of her head and secured with the biggest, pinkest bow you’ve ever seen. She reminds you of a Malibu Barbie—mansion and all. Sabrina rushes over to you, quickly depositing the tray of what looks like cigarette papers and lighters on the counter before hugging you tightly.
“Thanks for coming!” Sabrina looks genuinely happy to see you. They make room for you around the island. “I just moved here like a year and a half ago and it is so hard to make friends.”
You let out a relieved breath. “I know exactly what you mean.” You had been nervous about coming, about whether or not you were actually going to fit-in . It feels like there are huge holes where general knowledge should be about how to act, what to say. All the culturally relevant gossip you know hit it’s expiration date a decade ago—but surprisingly, you don’t feel as terrified of that as you had been before arriving.
The conversation flows easily, and you finish your first glass of wine with a comfortable, warm buzz. Adrian makes it his business to serve the cooled cookies, and when you take two, he laughs.
“Okay, girl, I see you!” You blush as you bite down, gooey chocolate coating your tongue.
“I didn’t eat before I came,” you admit, polishing off the first cookie and starting on the second. “These are so good,” you add, and Sabrina preens.
“Thank you! I baked them myself.” Sabrina ducks down beneath the island countertop, and you hear the sound of a drawer rolling open, and then shut again. “I will admit I found the recipe online, though.” As she stands, she tosses a plastic bag of—
Oh my God.
Your eyes widen as the baggie of weed lands on the table, and they dart worriedly to the faces of everyone else there. No one seems surprised or upset, in fact, Keisha claps excitedly.
“Good,” she chirps, plucking a single paper from one of the packs on the silver tray. “I’ll roll.”
You shift nervously on your feet, unsure of what to do. You’ve never smoked before—the most you’ve ever done is drink alcohol, and even that you don’t do with any regularity. Ari’s beers in the fridge at home remain mostly untouched by you, and the occasional glass of wine is the extent of what you generally allow yourself. Not that you mind, really—
You tap jittery fingers against the granite, and Adrian clucks his tongue at you.
“What’s wrong, babes?” His eyebrows crease with concern. “Not a joint person?”
“N-no?” You force yourself to calm down—these are all adults, and it’s not like it’s… illegal here, per-say. “I um, I haven’t actually ever… smoked. Marijuana.”
“You haven’t?” Sabrina’s gaze moves worriedly from your face to the half-eaten tray of cookies and back again. “Are you… kidding?”
You sigh, dragging an embarrassed hand down your face. “No. Ugh, my… my parents were um. Really strict. Sorry. I’m not a narc or anything, I just, um, never really—” Sabrina grabs your hand with a soft smile and the rambling word vomit screeches to a halt.
“You don’t have to explain yourself at all. I just, well, I kind of thought you knew, to be honest.”
“Knew?”
“Yeah, it’s said 4/20 brunch, on 4/20,” she looks at you with a leading expression, but whatever reference she’s trying to make flies entirely over your head. You raise an eyebrow.
“That wasn’t… the time?”
“420 means weed girl!” Adrian yelps, doubling over with raucous laughter. He rests a hand on his hip as he gasps for air. “This was a weed brunch!” You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning. “Oh my God the cookies! You ate two of them!” Cold realization crosses your face as you turn to face them in horror.
“There was weed in the cookies!?”
—
Ari is waiting for you in the kitchen when you call—he’d been expecting you home half an hour ago, and though he wasn’t worried, he was beginning to get antsy. The bond is open—wide open, in fact—and your hazy amusement permeate it like smoke.
“Hi, Sweetheart. You okay?” He asks, and you giggle.
“ I’m good. I’m so-oo-oo good, ” you sing, drawing out the syllables. There’s a loud splash, and Ari raises an eyebrow as you gasp loudly through the receiver.
“Don’t drop your phone!”
“I’m not gonna dro-op it,” you hiccough, and Ari can practically hear your pout. “She said I was going to drop my phone, but I’m not going to drop it—”
“Kitten. What is—”
“Can you come get me?” You say, cutting him off in a dreamy, small voice. “I don’t think I should drive. The floor is moving.” Ari pulls away from the phone, staring at it with confused, narrowed eyes.
“The floor is… moving.” He repeats your babble, just to make sure he’s hearing it right. You heave a relieved sigh, as if he’s validated some previously held suspicion.
“Yes. And I really don’t think I should drive. I’m all wet.”
“Okay baby. Can you send me your friend’s address? I’m going to call Martine over in case Liam wakes up, and then I will come and get you.”
“Okay.” You hang up with no warning, leaving your confused and exasperated mate staring at his phone. It takes several minutes—and quite a few nonsensical strings of emojis—before the address comes through.
She’s drunk, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. A little wry smile plays at the edges of his mouth as he buckles himself into the Bentley. She has to be. He’s not upset as he turns out of the driveway, skirting generously around Martine’s car. He’s glad you’ve made friends—the tight fist your father had kept around your life has left a lasting impression, one Ari is eager to erase.
The traffic choking the highway eases as he circles around the city, the exit dumping him out into the rolling foothills on its outskirts. The address you’d sent him is one that takes him into familiar territory, and when he pulls up to the gate, it buzzes open before he has a chance to push the button on the intercom.
Ari exits the vehicle, taking stock of each car lined up in the driveway—including yours. He pauses at the front steps, listening, before making his way around back instead. The sounds of music and laughter grow louder as he rounds the side of the house. Your scent is here too, cut with others and diluted by the smell of chlorine and charcoal smoke. The yard opens up before him, carefully manicured green surrounding the deeply set in-ground pool.
“I don’t remember inviting the mob.” An amused voice makes Ari turn, before he scoffs.
“You wouldn’t have to, Sabrina, you married it.” He replies, shaking his head before reaching down for a hug. “It’s been a while.” Sabrina tokes long and hard on the joint in her hand before she laughs.
“You’re telling me. What are you doing here?”
“My mate is here.” Ari peers over Sabrina’s blonde head, squinting at the pool. “The one on the pizza floaty.”
You’re sprawled on the double-wide rubber float, chatting animatedly to a man sitting on the pool steps up to his waist. Sabrina claps her hands, loud, animated laughter escaping her grinning mouth.
“That’s your mate? Oh my God. I think—I think I’m gonna pee.” She doubles over, while Ari frowns down at her. “Sorry. Sorry. I just—Odd couple. In my defense, she is the sweetest person on earth, and you’re… you.” Ari purses his lips.
“Yes, well, you’re related to me,” he says dryly. “I still don’t think you’ve forgiven me for putting worms in your hair.”
“I haven’t. It was disgusting.”
“I was eight.”
Sabrina ignores him, flicking a honey-blonde lock over her shoulder before making her way over to the pool. She wades in, waving to get your attention. You look utterly relaxed, your limbs draped loosely across the floaty. Your fingers and toes trail in the water as a you drift. You sit up as Sabrina approaches, and for a moment, your wild hair is framed perfectly in the light of the setting sun.
Little lioness.
The words she speaks to you are snatched away by the wind as Ari approaches, squatting by the edge of the pool. You’re wearing a swimsuit you no doubt borrowed from Sabrina, a bikini he suspects is at least one size too small. Sliding off the edge of the pizza-shaped float, you wade over to him, a dopey smile on your face.
“Ari!”
“Hi, Kitten.” He leans down when you reach wet hands up to hug him. Ari doesn’t mind, drawing his fingers affectionately over your bare shoulders and back as he presses his face to the side of your throat. He can’t help but check. Underneath the heavy scent of the chlorine—and a light coating of weed-smoke—is your true scent. Just yours, like he’d known it would be. He kisses your forehead. You giggle.
“I did what you said,” you whisper loudly. “It worked! I just said, um, that I never smoked, but then I ate the cookie—two cookies, I think. Maybe more?” The story devolves into meaningless ramble that leaves Ari laughing.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time, Kitten.”
“So this is the mate.” A lanky Alpha with a joint in a rather fancy looking cigarette holder appraises Ari, his other hand resting on his hip. He offers it to shake. “Adrian. The pleasure is yours.” Ari shakes it. “We did try to keep her out of the pool but she made some very convincing arguments.”
“I see,” Ari replies, chuckling as you give a stout nod from the pool. “She does have a habit of getting her way.” The resulting pout that forms on your full lips is worth the half-truth. You make your way toward the pool ladder, slipping once before finding your footing. You’re sopping wet, water running in rivulets down your soft skin. Up close, the swimsuit you’re wearing is even smaller, the fabric straining to hold back the supple flesh of your breasts.
Ari clears his throat, and Adrian snickers. He shoots the other male an irritated look, but Adrian only grins.
“I packed you a to-go bag, chica. It’s in your purse. You crazy kids have a good night.” He winks, and you wave absently.
“You too, Adrian!” You turn back to Ari. “He’s nice, right?”
“Yeah,” he replies, dragging his eyes up from the curve of your hip where the tie is sinking sinfully into the soft skin there. “Nice. Where did you get this?” He fingers the spaghetti thin strap at your shoulder. Sabrina sidles up next to you with a knowing grin, looping her arm around your shoulders.
“Well, I couldn’t let her just jump in, Ari.” He levels an annoyed glare at her. “What kind of cousin would I be if I let your mate ruin her nice clothes?” You gasp exaggeratedly.
“Cousin?”
“First or second, or something like that,” Ari grumbles. She laughs.
“Remind me to tell you the worm story,” she replies conspiratorially, clapping you on the back. “You go get your clothes.”
“I’ll be right back,” You press a kiss to Ari’s cheek. He can’t help but watch you walk away, the damp fabric wedging itself neatly between the cheeks of your ass. God-fucking-dammit.
“It reeks out here,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You’d better not be turning my mate into a pothead. I don’t want to have to get into weed distribution, you know how messy that is.” Sabrina waves a hand dismissively.
“Nonsense. Thad’s got a great thing going on with Rogers and Barnes on the east coast. He can cut you in if you want.” She winks. “I like her, you know. Genuinely had no idea she was, um. Yours.” Ari smiles, in spite of himself.
“It’s hard not to love her.”
Ari opts to wait out front, and he isn’t out there long before you stumble out clutching your purse. Your shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from your skirt, exposing the swimsuit you’re still wearing underneath. You look up at him apologetically through your lashes.
“Thank you for coming, Ari, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be, Kitten,” he chuckles, helping you down the steps toward the car. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
You loose a high pitched giggle. “I had so-oo much fun. S-Sabrina’s so nice! She said she wants to hang out more. And—” You gasp, turning to him with a suspicious glare. “She said you put worms in her hair.” Ari laughs, shaking his head as he opens the passenger side door. “How could you do that?”
“I’ll bet she didn’t tell you she dumped cat litter on my head the week before,” he replies, shutting the door before you can respond. He can see that you’re talking anyway, chirping brightly to yourself as Ari rounds the front of the car. He’s not quite sure why, but the sight of it makes his heart swell, even as he shakes his head.
“—gross!” You finish, looking at him definitively.
Ari slides into the drivers seat, nodding. “It was.”
“Will we come back for the Jeep?” You ask in a small, guilty voice. “I like the Jeep.” Ari nods, chuckling.
“I promise.” The stoned, dopey smile you shoot him in response makes Ari wonder just how many “cookies” you’d eaten. You slump lazily in the passenger seat, stretching like a cat as he pulls out of the driveway. You sit there, blissfully unaware of the way that fucking bikini is eating away at his nerves. You drag a hand across your bare midsection, absently playing with the loose bikini strings.
Of course you can’t see the way the edges of your dark, puffy nipples spill just over the edges of the triangular scraps of fabric. Sabrina’s attempt to help you maintain your modesty has done exactly the opposite, leaving you so indecently exposed that Ari finds himself wondering how the soft, plump lips of your cunt even fit in the bottoms.
God-fucking-dammit.
Ari knows he should be focusing on the sparsely populated road, on the hour long drive it will take to get you home— not on the way he can see the pebbled outline of your perfect fucking nipples through that flimsy excuse for a bathing suit. Ari dares to glance in your direction again and groans quietly. You’re running your hands along your bare thighs, giggling and gasping at the sensation of your palms on your own skin.
“Ari, I didn’t know I was this soft,” you mumble, your eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Did you know that?”
He scrubs a hand down his face.
“Jesus, Kitten, you trying to kill me tonight?” He moans, dropping his head back against the seat. You lean over the middle console, an apology already on your trembling lips.
“I’m sorry.” It’s like you’re completely unaware of it, the thrall you have him in as you rest a warm little hand on his thigh. “How can I make it better?”
Martine’s fine at the house with Liam, right?
—
“Oh-oh God!” Your face is hidden, pressed against the hood of the car. Ari has your trembling legs spread as far apart as he can manage, his cock disappearing between the cheeks of your ass. “F-feels— oh— ” You’re even less articulate than usual, your sopping, needy cunt squeezing down around him like a vise.
Ari’s got your little white skirt rucked up around your waist, and the offending bikini pulled to the side so he can watch you take him. Seeing your pussy stretched open wide and straining around the veiny length of his cock is almost as good as feeling it. Ari doesn’t resist the urge to crack the palm of one hand against the cheek of your ass. You squeal, and God the way you fucking clench down is almost enough to make him bust right there—
“Ari!” His name sounds like a desperate prayer on your lips. You’re practically writhing underneath him, your hands forming little fists on the hood of the Bentley. “G-God, feels—” He loves you like this, the words all gibberish on your loose tongue. “Fuck!”
He especially likes it now that you’re high, hoarse curses falling from your lips as you raise yourself up onto your tip toes trying to meet his thrusts. It’s like some of your carefully crafted filter has come apart, allowing through the Kitten that isn’t afraid of judgment or reprisal.
“M’so full,” you whine pathetically, peering over your shoulder at him pleadingly. “More?” He isn’t expecting your breathy, perfect little plea, and the softly uttered request seems to go straight to his cock, and it throbs hard inside you. Ari groans, his head lolling back on his shoulders as he stares unseeingly at the night sky. “More, please.”
The knot at the base of his cock is already starting to swell, and Ari clenches his teeth. Bracing one hand between your shoulders as he anchors the other to your hip.
“More, Kitten?” He asks, chuckling darkly. “Greedy girl. Can you even take more?” Ari draws back until the head of his cock pops out, and he slaps it wetly against your cunt. Slowly, he presses himself into the fucked-swollen mess of your pussy. He doesn’t stop when you begin straining against his knot, murmuring dark words of encouragement.
“You asked for this,” he reminds you, grinning when your forehead hits the hood with a thunk, and you let out a muffled cry. Ari joins you, a harsh growl tearing from his throat as his knot pops inside. “That enough, Kitten?” He asks through clenched teeth. “Your hungry fucking pussy finally full, Sweetheart?”
You push back against him, a lewd squelch filling both your ears. That’s enough of an answer for Ari. He growls, clamping down on the back of your neck with one hand as his fingers sink deep into the meat of your hip. His thrusts are shorter now, but fuller , and each one leaves you mewling and crying. His whole world is condensing down to a single point. You’re all that matters, you, this moment, his cock buried in your slick, sweet core—
“Oh f-fuck, God, Ari, c-cumming—” The nonsense that you manage to string together only barely precedes the way your cunt clamps deliciously around him like a hot wet fist. The pleasurable buzzing in the back of Ari’s skull becomes unbearable, traveling down his spine and shooting like electricity to the base of his cock.
Ari groans, bending over your back to sink his teeth into your shoulder, holding you still while he cums. He still doesn’t know how to explain how right it feels to press inside you and let go—like he’s supposed to. Fuck and the feel of you—Ari groans as you shift, your velvet walls shifting against his still hard cock. He leans back, releasing you so that he can stare appreciatively at your cunt. Lips bulged out from the heavy girth of his knot, a mixture of both your fluids leaking out around it.
You peek over your shoulder at him, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your eyebrows are creased together, your glassy eyes shining with real worry.
“Ari?”
“What’s the matter, Kitten?”
“I think I left my phone.”
end
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Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (f! receiving), protected p in v, Billy is a POS, reader is insecure about her body (no descriptions given, though she mentions not liking her stomach)
**Billy is very manipulative to get reader to sleep with him, though she does consent**
WC: 5.7k
A/N: This is based on two real experiences I had when I was younger. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but has also been wonderful for my healing process. I hope it can help someone else, too. (Also, sorry if it's rambly; it was cathartic but also emotionally difficult to write).
--
As the last swimmer exits through the iron gates, you breathe a sigh of relief at the end of another shift. Lifeguarding at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t necessarily a difficult job, but it sure was tedious. Your flip-flops thwap against the pavement as you pad into the locker room to get dressed, skin sticky from sunscreen and that infamous mid-July humidity.
“So,” Heather says, twisting her blonde hair into a ponytail as she changes from her swimsuit into shorts and a t-shirt, “you ready to hear that secret?”
You nod enthusiastically. It’s all you’d been thinking about since you’d climbed down the lifeguard tower when her watch duty began, and she’d whispered that she had something to say to you privately.
Heather’s eyes gleam as she announces, “Billy told me he thinks you’re hot!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Not that he needed to; anyone can watch him check you out all day long,” she adds with a smirk.
“Me?” you ask incredulously, unable to muffle your surprise. On instinct, you wrap your arms around your waist protectively. Heather might be comfortable changing in public, but your own body insecurities made it torturous for you to even be naked privately.
“Yes, you!” your co-worker giggles. “You should talk to him.”
You’re still mulling over the prospect of Billy Hargrove being into you when your ride pulls up to the pool gates. Waving goodbye to Heather, you hop in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He picks you up every night you work, and the two of you always split a joint in your backyard before he heads back to the trailer park. It makes your crappy summer job all worth it; God knows the pay isn’t even going to cover your textbooks when you go back to college in August.
“Save any little gremlins today?” he jokes, turning down his music so he can hear your answer.
You shake your head and laugh. “Nah, just yelled, ‘no running!’ about 84 times.” Leaning back in the seat and stretching your legs, you glance over at him. “But Heather told me something interesting.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and you take that as a sign to continue. “Apparently, Billy Hargrove thinks I’m hot.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Sure, he’s not exactly your knight in shining armor, but he’s an attractive guy who has a thing for you.
“Oh, ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Please describe the look on that douche canoe’s face when you turn him down.”
“Who says I’m turning him down?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest.
Your best friend sighs. “Well, you should,” he says pointedly, never one to mince words. “Guys like Hargrove only want to get in a girl’s pants and then find a new victim.”
“Why are you being such a bummer?” you snap. Eddie just keeps his eyes on the road, oblivious to your glare. “If Jeff was about to get laid, you’d be throwing him a goddamn parade!”
He chuckles tersely. “That’s because Jeff getting laid would be a fuckin’ miracle.”
You look around, exaggerating your movements for emphasis. “Well, asshole, I don’t exactly see a line of people forming to sleep with me, either.” With that, you pull your knees to your chest and turn your body so that your back is to him.
The car is silent, save for the sounds of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album crackling through the speakers. After what seems like an eternity, Eddie pulls into your driveway and throws the van in park.
“Did…did you still wanna smoke?” he asks quietly, twiddling with a loose thread on the ripped knee of his jeans.
“Nope.” You jump out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. “And you don’t have to drive me home tomorrow. I bet Billy will do it.”
You hear him calling your name as you stalk into your house. Honestly, you could really use some weed right now, but you’re too infuriated at him to push it all aside for a quick smoke session.
The next day, you make a point to sit next to Billy when you take your break. He’s smoking a cigarette, occasionally flicking ash into a chipped tray on the table.
“Can I bum one?” you ask, pointing to the rolled tobacco between his plush lips.
Billy smirks, reaching for the pack of Marlboros and holding it out to you. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, sugar.” He passes you his lighter, and you spark up and inhale deeply.
“I usually prefer something greener, but this’ll do.” You take another drag, trying to work up the nerve to say what’s on your mind. As the smoke curls around your mouth, you notice Billy’s eyes trail down the curves of your body, as though he’s trying to drink you in. “Something I can help you with, Hargrove?” you tease, impressed with the way you easily flirt with him. It’s so unlike you, but it feels good.
“Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “You can hang with me tonight. Got the place to myself, so, y’know…” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.
Your stomach flip-flops despite yourself. This is what you want, right? No more waiting around for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet. It’s not going to happen, never going to happen, not when you look the way you do. And if a gorgeous man like Billy Hargrove is actually willing to have sex with you, you’re in no position to turn him down. “O-Okay,” you stammer, hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “I’m working till nine tonight; is that–”
“Perfect,” he interrupts, flashing you a megawatt smile. “I finish at six, but I’ll stick around just for you, pretty thing.”
Pretty. He called you pretty, and he wants you. Wants you enough to hang out at work for an extra three hours just to be with you.
The rest of your shift drags by; all you can think about is Billy. The way he feels, the way he tastes, what he looks like underneath those swim trunks.
The only problem is that he’ll also want to see you naked. The thought sours your mood. You try not to catch glimpses of yourself in the bathroom mirror after you get out of the shower, and now you’re about to let him see you, completely vulnerable.
Stop being such a baby, you scold yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Billy’s waiting outside the locker room once your shift ends. He takes your hand in his larger, stronger one, and leads you to his car.
“Seems kinda silly, getting changed out of that cute little swimsuit,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “when you’re gonna get undressed again so soon.” He leans you up against the passenger door, pinning your hips back and kissing you hungrily. One hand roams under your t-shirt to the swell of your breasts, breaking away when he feels the fabric of your bra. “You tryin’ to hide these from me, sugar?” He starts to reach for the clasp, but you stand up a bit straighter.
“Did you wanna, like, grab something to eat?” you ask shyly. “We can stop by Benny’s on the way to yours if…if you like burgers?” You cringe as the words leave your lips. Could you sound any more pathetic?
Billy just chuckles patronizingly. “That sounds like a date, and, uh, I don’t do dates.” He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “But I do other stuff real well.”
Something isn’t right. This isn’t what you want, but you should want it, and so you push down the apprehension and try to focus on the man in front of you. “That’s fine,” you murmur, even though it isn’t. People have casual sex all the time. It doesn’t mean he’s any less attracted to you. Like he said, he’s not the dating type, so why cause problems where none exist?
“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to mine,” he growls, and you can practically taste the spearmint gum that he was chewing earlier. “Might just have to do you in the backseat, hm?”
You nod as he opens the door for you, pretending for a millisecond to be a gentleman. He clambors in behind you and slams it shut, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his waist. You can feel his erection pressed against your clothed sex, and you allow yourself to smile. You did this to him. You got him hard. Not Chrissy Cunningham, or Heather, or Bo Derek. You.
He starts to take off your shirt, but you push his hands away. “Something wrong?” he asks, giving an exasperated sigh. Did you already fuck this up?
“N-No, it’s just…” you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Could I keep my shirt on? I don’t really like my body, and I’d just feel better if I didn’t, um, take it off.” Heat blazes behind your cheeks, and you will yourself not to cry.
“For fuck’s sake,” Billy grumbles under his breath, flexing his biceps as he stretches. He lets his hands fall to your ass with a soft smack. “You got me all worked up, and now you’re not even gonna let me see your tits?”
You duck your head in shame. “I’m kinda insecure about the way I look,” you admit, hoping it will soften his heart. Though kinda is an understatement.
He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth impatiently. “Y’know,” he finally says, squeezing the plush of your ass, “you might feel better about yourself if you got naked for me.”
You inhale sharply; that’s not at all what you expected him to say. Maybe something reassuring; something about how much he liked the way you look. Instead, he’s clearly irritated with your hesitation.
“M-Maybe.” It’s worth a shot, and you slowly peel off your top and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You watch anxiously as his eyes flit across your bare chest, waiting for his reaction. An indication that he just has to have you and only you.
Instead, he clicks his tongue and simply says, “not bad.” He fumbles with your shorts button before unfastening his own. He strokes his cock lazily, staring at you. “Touch yourself, sugar. Get yourself ready f’me.”
There’s something screaming at you that this isn’t right; he should at least attempt to get you off instead of asking you to do the work for him. But you do as you’re told, not wanting to humiliate yourself further.
You shimmy out of your shorts, pushing your panties aside and rubbing slow, timid circles around your clit. You’ve done this plenty of times to know what feels good, yet you can’t seem to get it right when it counts. Billy doesn’t notice—or care—that the moans floating past your lips are fake, and he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Condom?” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes again.
“Doesn’t feel as good,” he grumbles, but he reaches into his wallet and pulls out the square piece of foil and tears it open, sliding the rubber over his thick cock. He pushes into you, not bothering to take his time as he ruts up. “Move your hips for me,” he tells you. “Bounce up and down; damn, do I gotta walk you through everything?”
Tears prickle at your eyes, and you manage to blink them away before he can see. Maybe this’ll get easier with time, you think. Maybe I’m just too nervous. You will yourself to relax, holding onto his broad shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.
“Feels good, yeah?” Billy grunts, and you nod as you zone out. You throw out a few more half-hearted whines as his hips stutter against your pelvis and he spills into the condom. “Fuck, there ya go, take it,” he croons, sweat trickling down his forehead. As soon as he rides out his orgasm, he’s hoisting you off of him so he can clean himself up. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure.” You try to sound enthusiastic. “Could you, um, drive me home?”
“Whatever,” he shrugs, but waits for you to put your clothes back on and climb into the passenger seat.
He wants to do this again tomorrow, meaning he wasn’t completely repulsed by your body. So everything should be good, right?
The next week and a half is filled with lust-fueled backseat romps, usually ending with Billy coming and you…well, returning home to use your trusty vibrator. You’re starting to feel a bit more comfortable, but not in your own skin. It’s more that there’s a certain power behind Billy choosing you when he could be with literally anyone else. You hold your head a little higher, walk a little taller. Even your parents notice on your weekend trip to visit your grandparents in Indianapolis, though you didn’t clue them in on the source of your newfound confidence.
When you get back to the pool that Monday, you’re about to whisper in Billy’s ear to ask if he has a second to “check out a situation in the locker room” with you. What you find stops you dead in your tracks.
His arm is wrapped around Heather. They’re laughing together and she presses her lips to his cheek; he tilts her chin so he can kiss her passionately. It’s more tender, more loving than the way he kisses you.
The ground starts to spin, and you grab onto a plastic chair to steady yourself. As soon as Heather walks away, you march over to Billy.
“What the fuck?” you hiss, trying to keep your volume down. You wince as your voice cracks, giving away the sadness tucked inside your frustration. “Are you with Heather now? Like, with her?”
“Uh, guess so,” Billy replies snidely, twirling a toothpick between his teeth.
You bite your lower lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I thought you said you weren’t the dating type?”
He shrugs. “Just kinda happened,” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just destroy your world. “You were away, she asked me to go to Scoops and grab some ice cream; one thing led to another, and…” he trails off. “Not like you and I were exclusive or some shit.”
“Because you didn’t wanna be!”
“And why do you think that is, huh?” Billy shoots back. “Why do you think I’d rather be with Heather than with you?” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You’re so goddamn uptight, y’know? Always worrying about the way you look, about people seeing us in the car. Heather just…goes with the flow. I can’t deal with someone so high-maintenance. Actually, most guys can’t.” With that, he storms out of the break room, leaving you trembling.
A wave of nausea washes over you as you slump down in a seat. All you wanted was to be wanted, and you blew it. Billy’s right; your insecurities keep you unloveable.
You try to take deep breaths, letting the tears slip down your cheeks. Your shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, so you pray that you’re able to collect yourself before you’re due to start your watch. You’re sobbing too hard to notice the two boys peering into the lounge, watching you with growing concern before dashing to the nearest payphone.
You slide on your sunglasses to hide your red, puffy eyes. The last thing you need is people asking you what’s wrong. Just as you’re about to walk over to the lifeguard stand–to switch with Billy, of all people–you feel a tap on your shoulder.
Eddie.
“Um, hey,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Will and Dustin called; said they saw Hargrove yelling at you, and you crying. Told me to ‘get my scrawny ass here, stat.’” He gives a terse chuckle. “Exact quote, by the way.”
You want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, but you remember what he said to you. Worse, that he was right. “‘M fine,” you lie, and Eddie sees right through it.
He gingerly takes off your sunglasses, heart breaking as he gets a glimpse of your tearful expression. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. It’s so tender, sweet, and selfless. It’s Eddie.
“Go tell your boss that you’re not feeling well, yeah?” he says finally, still not letting you go. “We can go grab something to eat, and you can tell me everything.”
“‘M not hungry,” you shake your head, “and I just wanna go home.” Your voice is whiny, but you’re too sad to care.
“Okay, well, you’re still leaving,” Eddie insists, and you don’t have the energy to argue. “The sheep,” he gestures to where Dustin and Will are standing, and they wave as though they’ve been caught, “will tell your boss that you’re sick. Lady problems or whatever.” You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you to his van. “And you can tell me as much as you want, ‘kay?”
You nod wordlessly as Eddie gives the younger kids a thumbs-up. He normally chooses the music, whether he’s the driver or the passenger, but this time, he tilts his chin towards the radio and says, “all yours.”
You turn the dial until you hear a Fleetwood Mac song, expecting Eddie to crack a joke or complain about your selection, but he just taps the steering wheel to the beat. When he drives to a gas station to fill up his tank, you don’t think anything of it until he comes back out with a bag full of Haagen-Daaz.
“Got all your favorite flavors,” he announces, plopping back into the driver’s seat. “I know you said you’re not hungry, but you will be at some point. So…sustenance.”
A smile tugs at your lips, and you manage a small “thanks,” as he drives you back to your place. When he pulls into the driveway, he waits awkwardly for you to say anything else.
Finally, he breaks the silence by handing you the bag from the Shell station. “Don’t want this to melt,” he offers lamely, frowning when you burst into a fresh round of tears. You hear him mutter, “that’s it,” and he kills the engine, jumping out of the van to run to your side. “Up and at ‘em.” He pulls you out of your seat, scooping you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease. He kicks the van door closed, walking to your front door before setting you down.
“That’s my favorite method of transportation,” you giggle softly, and he breathes a sigh of relief as your humor peeks through.
“Save a horse, ride a Munson, right?” he jokes back, blushing when he realizes the double entendre he just made. “Uh, anyway, I can leave if you want…” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously.
“You can come in,” you say, unlocking the door. He follows you, heading straight for the kitchen and grabbing two spoons from the drawer.
“Figured we could start with cookie dough,” he says, holding out the pint. “Ladies first.”
The two of you sit on the couch in comfortable silence as you dig into dessert. Halfway through, you look up at him through misty eyes. “I’m waiting for the ‘I told you so,’” you say softly.
“Huh?”
You tell Eddie everything: Billy’s claim that he wanted something casual, his reaction to you asking to keep your shirt on, the venom he spewed earlier today. “I never should’ve trusted him.”
But Eddie’s seeing red, fists clenched and jaw squared in pure rage. “The fuck did he say?” He stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the pint of ice cream.
“Where are you going?”
“To kick his sorry ass!” Eddie exclaims, grabbing his keys from the table where he tossed them.
“He’s not worth it,” you tell him. “Just…can you stay here and eat ice cream with me? Please?”
“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, plopping back down next to you. “But I still wanna punch him in the face.”
“You and me both,” you agree, taking another spoonful before posing the question you’ve been too afraid to ask. “Do you think I’m a slut?”
Eddie nearly chokes on his bite of cookie dough. “A slut? Because you slept with some douchebag?”
“No,” you say quietly, “for having sex with someone because I wanted to feel beautiful.”
His whole body deflates. “That’s why you…why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?”
You bark out a tense laugh. “Where to start? Um, my face, my hair, my body…oh, and apparently, now I’m too insecure and uptight to love, so…”
Eddie cradles your face between his strong, calloused hands. “Listen to me,” he says. “You are the most goddamn beautiful person on this Earth. Your eyes…I could stare into them all day. You have the cutest nose I’ve ever seen. Your smile makes me smile. And your hair…no matter how you wear it, you always look good. Sometimes you say things like, ‘ugh, my hair’s a mess today,’ and I’m just flabbergasted.”
“Flabbergasted?” you interject, amused by his word choice.
“Flabbergasted,” Eddie affirms. “And your body is…I’m gonna sound like such a creep here, so forgive me, but your body is so fucking hot. Like the night we had that argument, you said something about no one else wanting to sleep with you. But I know for a fact that that’s not true.”
“It’s not? Who wants to sleep with me?”
Eddie laughs nervously as he slowly raises his hand. “Um, me? But not, like, in a smash-and-dash way. Like in a take you on dates, hold your hand, be your boyfriend kinda way? Oh my God, just tell me to shut up. Please.”
“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” you mutter.
“Nope. It’s the truth. Cross my heart.” He makes the slashes across his chest with his fingers. “Wait…the thought of us together cheers you up?”
You nod shyly. “Just never thought you’d be into me like that.”
“Well, I am. I so fuckin’ am, holy shit.” Eddie looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s holding back. “Can I take you on a date? Maybe tomorrow?”
“I’d love a date with you, Eddie Munson.” You watch as a grin spreads across his face, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He lays his arm along the back of the couch, not quite sure whether to put it around you. That’s how the two of you fall asleep as the remaining ice cream melts in its container.
Seeing Billy at work the next day still stings a bit, but it’s easier than it was. You know he’s an idiot, a player, a manipulative piece of shit. And you have a date with Eddie, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever met. And you deserve that kindness.
Eddie picks you up from work as usual, but instead of his typical ripped jeans and a concert tee, he’s wearing…well, un-ripped jeans and a concert tee. But he smells like a new cologne as he kisses your cheek, blushing as he pulls away.
“You look absolutely incredible,” he muses, reaching over to hold your hand. “Seriously, I’m so lucky you agreed to go out with me, shit.” He smiles at you, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothin’, I just…” He can’t seem to shed his dopey, lovesick grin. “Told myself I wasn’t gonna kiss you; like, kiss you kiss you, until the end of the date. But you just look so goddamn gorgeous.”
“Shut up,” you duck your head, trying to hide from him. “I’m the lucky one. My date is hot and has a kickass personality to match.”
“Guess we both got lucky tonight.” Eddie bites his lower lip when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean–”
You squeeze his hand, effectively silencing his racing thoughts. “Where are you taking me?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It’s not that you were embarrassed by his Freudian slip, but after what happened with Billy, you weren’t looking to rush into sex.
“You’ll see,” Eddie says, excitement building in his voice. A few moments later, you’re walking into the Coffee and Contemplation Café, with Eddie holding the door open for you. Your sundress swishes along your thighs as you take a seat across from Eddie. He immediately takes your hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.
“Eds?”
“Mm?”
“I need to look at the menu.”
“Oh.” He lets go of your hands, looking a bit sad as he does. “Sorry, baby. Shit–can I call you that?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I really like that, actually.” Baby. You’re Eddie’s “Baby.”
When the waitress comes around, you order a vanilla latte, and Eddie orders coffee with cream and two sugars. “That’s what Wayne always orders when we go to the diner,” he explains. The two of you decide to split a piece of crumb cake–one slice, two forks.
“This is a really nice date, Eds.” You wrinkle your nose. “Hmm. I need a cute nickname for you now, huh?”
Eddie taps his chin as though he’s deep in thought. “How about…stud muffin?” He feigns offense when you giggle. “What? Am I not studly?”
“Oh, the studliest,” you reassure him, still laughing. “I like ‘babe,’ though. Because you are a babe.”
“I dunno…kinda like stud muffin better,” Eddie teases, taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, tell me all about your day.”
And so you fill him in on every detail, from the kid who peed in the pool to the mother who berated the lifeguards for “allowing” it to happen. “Like we can control their bladders or something,” you add with an eye roll, and Eddie cackles. A strand of hair falls in his face, and you tuck it behind his ear.
“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, peering at you from under impossibly long lashes. That’s when you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. He’s not expecting it; probably thinking he was going to initiate when he dropped you back off at home. His lips remain frozen for a second until his brain registers what’s happening. Then he’s kissing you back, palm on your cheek.
“Was that okay?” you ask finally. Eddie’s response is to slam a $10 bill on the table and grab your hand, leading you back to his van. He kisses you again against the side door; it reminds you of how Billy kissed you that night that you…
Eddie notices that you’ve stopped kissing him back, and he pulls away. “Baby? You good?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. He’s not Billy. Not even close. Not even a little bit. You take a deep breath. “Just nervous, c-cause the last time I did this, it, uh, didn’t end well for me.”
Eddie wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling you towards him. “Hey, hey,” he coos. “There’s no rush, yeah? And I’d never–never make you do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I know.” And you do. So for now, you just rest your head against his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat.
The next month before you leave for school is filled with dates, each better than the last. Eddie takes you to the carnival, the drive-in movie theater, picnics at Lover’s Lake…anywhere he can. The kissing gets more fun; you’re able to focus on Eddie–your Eddie–and not on your past experiences.
The night before you’re set to go back to college, you’re ready to take that next step with him. The two of you are sitting on his bed and listening to music; your plans for an outdoor music festival having been squandered by the pouring rain. You move closer to him, straddling his waist as you press your lips to his neck.
“‘M gonna miss you s’much,” you pout, moving your mouth to his. “Want you, babe. All of you.”
Eddie gives a terse chuckle. “I want you too; so fuckin’ bad. But we don’t have to do this just because you’re leaving. I’m not gonna break up with you. In fact, I…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “I think I love you, baby. Shit, no; I know I love you.”
“I know I love you, too,” you smile, kissing him again. “And I want to have sex with you because I love you, and I want to show you.” You dig your fingers into Eddie’s hair, nuzzling your noses together. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay,” he breathes, hands settling on your hips. “You’ll let me know if you wanna stop, right? Just tell me, and we can go back to cuddling. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you say, and it’s the truth.
Eddie nods. “Okay. On your back, baby. Let me take care of you.”
You do as he asks, and you feel his lips trail down your torso, stopping just before he reaches the throbbing ache between your legs. “Yes?” he looks up at you patiently.
“Yes.” With that, he unbuttons your shorts and tugs them down your legs, running his middle finger along your lace panties. He shivers as he feels how wet you are, all for him, and he nearly tears the underwear in half trying to yank it off of you.
“Wanna taste you,” Eddie mutters.
“Y-You can taste me.” You whimper, and Eddie wastes no time licking a soft stripe along your folds, easily finding your clit. “Right there.” His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it. “Holy shit, yes, right fucking there.”
Eddie detaches from your sex for a second, chin already shiny with your slick. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises f’me, please.” He sounds just as desperate as you do as he plunges back between your legs, this time slipping a finger inside you as he licks. You’re moaning, and there’s no faking it this time. Eddie’s touch has you floating, You can vaguely sense him rutting up against the mattress, so turned on just by eating you out. He’s holding onto your hips, eyes never leaving your body.
“Gonna come, feels s’good,” you whine, never wanting this feeling to end. You grind up into his face as you ride out your orgasm, gripping the sheets and screaming his name. “Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming, holy fuck!” After he brings you back down from the high, you push yourself up onto your knees.
“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Was that too much?”
“Just wanna return the favor.” You lean over to rub him through his tented jeans, but he shakes his head.
“Not tonight,” he mutters, “I’m too pent up. I’ll never last in that perfect little mouth of yours.” He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips. “Can I be inside you?”
“Yes, babe. Please.” You look down, realizing that your shirt is still on. You want to show him all of you, let him touch every last inch of your body, but you hesitate to take it off.
Eddie must be able to read your mind, because he tilts your chin in his direction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see you naked,” he admits, “but only if you’re ready. You can keep it on if you’re more comfortable.”
You inhale in for three and exhale for three before you respond. “I’m ready. I’m comfortable.” You lift the shirt above your head, revealing your bare breasts. The incredulous stare on your boyfriend’s face is almost comical. “Are you okay?” you giggle.
“No, I think I died and went to Heaven,” he says, letting his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples. He undresses himself in record time, revealing his long, thick cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip. “Baby, I wanna spend all night touching you, but I’m gonna bust if–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.
He reaches into his dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and removing it from its wrapper. “Can you put it on me?” he whispers, and you oblige, rolling it down his length. He hisses at your touch, too sensitive to ask you to linger there. He sets you back on the pillows, slowly pushing into you a little at a time until he’s fully inside. “Good, baby?”
“Mhm,” you mewl. “S’good. You can–you can go faster, whenever you want.”
Eddie threads his fingers with yours, putting your hands up next to your head as he rocks into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you.” He punctuates each I love you with a kiss to your lips.
“I love you, Eddie. ‘M all yours.”
“All mine,” he echoes, “my baby’s all mine. And I’m hers. Her pussy belongs to me and–shit–my cock belongs to her.” He squeezes your hand, not possessively, but as a reminder that it’s him. It’s him, it’s you, it’s the two of you together. His eyes never leave yours, and he suddenly smiles. “You make me so damn happy.”
“This has been the best summer of my life,” you agree, “and it’s all because I have you, babe.”
His chest rubs against yours ever-so-slightly, and the sensation of your breasts has him weak. “I’m gonna come.” His expression is apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t wanna–”
“Let go for me,” you assure him, feeling yourself come undone as you speak. “We c-can come together.” Your second orgasm of the evening happens on his cock as he spills into the condom with a wanton moan. He’s still for a minute, catching his breath before removing himself from your warmth.
“I love you,” he says as he kisses you, sliding off the barrier and tying it. “Let me toss this, and then can we cuddle? I kinda just wanna hold you.”
“I’m down to cuddle before round two,” you say, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a few minutes to reload.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he says, climbing back into bed and sighing happily as you snuggle into his chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
--
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