#she is already perfect fairy colour

[elivagare]

ljósálfr mist design 🦋

[smuttyaf]

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭

wc: 9.3k | part two of the business

“Treat yourself to something nice.”

Smile shines genuinely at the stack of blue bills falling into your grip. The heart of your customer pounds against your ear from the generous tip being gifted as you swiftly lean in pressing a kiss against his stubble cheek.

“I’ll surprise you,” You tease. His grip growing tighter against your hip at the gesture. “But that will just be our little secret.”

Following your movements he heads with you out of the dim decorative room. You depart from his side once leaving the elevator with faint ‘goodbye’ and his lingering touch trailing away from your waist. White train flows down your sides as you venture to the back of the establishment.

Heels click against the chestnut floorboard, the sound of lockers closing and gentle laughter fill your ears.

“Speaking of the devil,” Grace grins. Fishnets and lace peek under the usual feather robe. Her ginger hair sits in voluminous curls while her eyes are painted in black shadow.

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club, your place of employment for three years now. It’s a private upscale strip club to say in short, however it was the popular type of establishment catered for specific people; the elites and socialites of society, ranging from celebrities to politicians.

Already being high maintenance from the clientele that it specifically caters for, there were codes set in place to appease them. For example, always having proper upkeep of your appearance. Nails, toes, hair, lashes; everything had to be perfect. You were meant to look like a doll for your customers, suppose to be their escape from reality so you had to play the part perfectly. The second, would be no photography or video recording. It’s a no brainer but it was hounded into your mind, the only type of film the customers will ever be on is the security cameras. The situation being so serious everyone in the building had to sign non-disclosure agreements. And the last and final major rule, always being dressed in the renowned long tulle robe. Each dancer had this garment in every colour and pattern you can imagine, fluffy soft material making all your coworkers look like fairies dancing under the inky light.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was your job. Working at this elegant spot and always looking stunning with your weekly manicures, pilates classes, and lash appointments. It was all that consumed your life aside from work. Even though you never thought you would find yourself in this position you couldn’t help but be happy about it. You struggled a lot during your teenage years, getting kicked out of your home at a such a young age you had to turn into an adult quickly. So you accept this lifestyle of greedy men and lustful hands, you much prefer it over the life you had before.

“You look like a sexy dominatrix,” You say glancing over her attire for the night.

Peeling open your purse, you let your tip money fall amongst the pile built up from your shift.

“You know me, you really know me!” Grace giggles with hand lying on her heart. You laugh at her expression while sitting at your vanity next to hers. “So… Do you remember the club owner I’ve been telling you about?” She ask, one arm place on the back of her chair as she faces you. You hum at her words nodding your head slowly.

She was boasting about this man that has been her new favourite of the month. Ranting about how he tips her generously and was the most handsome out of all her regulars. You’ve never took much notice of her roaster though, too indulged with your own you couldn’t really care about what her clients look like.

“He’s here and brought a friend… I may or may not have put in good words about you that he wants to meet,” Grace remarks with plucked eyebrows wiggling. It results with you shaking your head in disagreement.

“No thank you, I would like to go home to Cleo,” You sigh giving her an annoyed look. The desire to kick off these heels and curl against his fur freckle coat was all you wanted to do at the moment.

“Oh come on! Just one more before you leave!”

You twist your head at her words again. The clock was ten minutes away from your shift ending and you couldn’t wait for those numbers to dial in. Biting your lip you look at her.

“At least talk to him, I’m sure he’ll tip you for that… you know, because you’re just the sweetest girl in this joint.” Grace mocks Jasper’s southern voice. You roll your eyes at the reminder of him drunkly calling you one of his most prized employees during one the work anniversary parties.

“Fine, but you owe me.” Huffing with fingers tapping annoyingly at the vanity.

“Of course baby doll.”

You both touch up your makeup before going to the floor once more. It was Saturday night which meant it was busy, there was men litter by the bar while many sit amongst the lounge chairs, eyes all set on your coworkers performing their own little show for them before paying for the real thing. Her black train leads you towards the elevator, security smiling as you two step into the machine.

“Three please.” Grace smiles. The guard swiftly presses the number that brings you to the floor reserved for the most confidential people.

This makes you confused. If her client is just a club owner he couldn’t possibly be on this status? That can only mean the guest he brought with him has to be the one filling the role. If you could do a little dance in the space you would. Happy in your head thanking Grace for making you tag along but also causing you to wonder who it could be.

The elevator halts as you reach the floor. Both of you stepping out of the machine with robe swishing against your skin. White fluffy material tugs along the carpet as your heels echo in the hallway, eyes meeting the number of the door 323. The golden knob turns, allowing you both to step into the dim room.

Plum curtains pressed in baroque prints drape amongst the wall with stockard candles laminating the room, it gives sight on the two men standing each with glass of dark bourbon held in their hands.

Grace’s annoying rant about her regular being remarkably handsome is something you totally understand now, both look as if they could easily get sign and put on a runaway at any moment. One man holds a golden hue to his skin, black shiny hair slick under the lights, while the other has fair skin and luscious curls.

They stand in black suits fitting seamlessly against their bodies. The brown eyes of one man holds hues of caramel looking towards Grace while the other has beautiful emerald orbs that makes your breath catch in your throat.

She makes her way to the bronze man, feathers of her robe flutter under the lights. “Angelo, Y/N. Y/N, Angelo.” She introduce. You roll your eyes at her playfulness.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” Deep Italian voice fills your ears as you smile curtly before giving the brunette next to him your attention.

Eyes watch the contour of his cheeks sink from his jaw tensing. His hair was short with loose ringlets weaving through, nose broad and standing high amongst the features of his chiseled face. He was enchanting, especially with the way he’s towering over you in this dim light, your cheeks begin to swell with heat from this foreign feeling brewing in.

Yes, you had plenty of handsome clients but never once did it make your heart sing a different tune. Your canine tooth pierces the corner of your mouth. The focus he has on you was more then just admiring ones appearance, it was as if he was devouring you.

The only thought passing through your head is hoping he can’t see your blushing cheeks as you play along to his daring gaze and let your alluring persona kick in.

“And who must you be?” You question, lashes look up at the man who still overshadows you in these tall heels.

“I’m shock you don’t know my name love,” Deep voice matching the same tone as his friend. It causes waves of arousal to flow through you.

“Don’t mind her, she’s doesn’t involve herself in small talk here,” Grace interjects, her hand sliding on Angelo’s suited shoulder while stepping into his body.

“Oh? Just my kind of woman then.” The brunette smirks. Those words make your ears tingle and grow red.

Jesus Christ get it together! You think to yourself. This is your new client, not some cute guy at the club, reel in your feelings and do your job.

“Told you to trust me Harry… now have fun you two,” Grace sings, hand slipping and locking with Angelo as she tugs him out.

The sound of the door closing is met with the slow hum of The Weeknd that fills the atmosphere, your heart is pounding in your ears with smile shining on your lips. Timid palms glazed over with sweat run over the white train of your robe.

This was so unlike yourself to be shy around men, especially with your profession after these few years, but now it was as if you can’t even control your nerves. You want to jump his bones and study every inch of him.

“Harry?” You say, body leaning into him and immediately smelling his expensive cologne, Baccarat Rouge. Your favourite mens cologne. Yeah, this was going to be difficult.

“Harry Styles,” He clarifies, eyes drinking you in as you move closer.

Your hand leaves your robe and feels over his collar to roam down his chest to feel over the buttons there. Applying pressure you gently shove him back a few steps before he’s against the familiar sofa, his knees bend with back falling softly against the cushions, your body now towering over his seated position.

The way he’s staring at you made the blood running through your veins thump with urgency to regulate your heart. A closed off part of you is unravelling itself just from looking at this man.

“Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.” Pushing his legs apart with your thigh, your hips begin to sway to the music in the air. Nails going to the ribbon and playing with the bow.

Teasingly letting the smooth material slide between your fingertips, you move to the soft voice of the artist through the space, head lolling back seductively as you begin to unravel the string, your white embellished lingerie set reveals itself when you let the garment slowly cascade down your arms to rest in the hollow of your elbows.

Intricate fabric displays your busty breasts smooth with light sparkles dazzling under the lights, the floral lace design sits tight against your hips as your thighs rub against each other from each swing. Besides your waist moving so confidently with each stride, you can’t get over the way you feel so timorous.

Harry gaze is practically looking through you, observing every alluring movement that you do. The gentle press of your hands run up his thighs, your hips twisting side by side as you make your way between his legs, nails dragging into the thick fabric of his suit while doe eyes look up at him with playful smirk on your glossy lips.

His chest inhales deeply, knuckles turning white as he strains his hands by his side. The look in your gaze makes him want to groan hungrily, especially due to the position you’re lingering in. Nails trail into his thighs dreadfully to the slow symphonies in the background. He bites down on his bottom lip, body shifting under your eyes as you begin to rise up, swaying your waist back to your original position.

You continue to be enticing, hands running up your body as you turn around let your robe venture further down your arms to rest by your wrists, plump backside set in the air as you continue provoking him.

These movements were nothing new, especially with the way you allow yourself to fall deeper into his body and begin to dance in his lap, hair falling across your face you when rub yourself slowly against his obvious erection. Although, performing this sequence over hundreds of times your heart was beating erratically in your chest with mind racing with millions of thoughts. Thoughts you never had before ever since you’ve started working here, this new found feeling as if discovering Pandora’s Box.

You try to ignore the glint in his eyes, the way they hungrily look over every inch of your body, staring as if knowing what’s brewing in your mind.

Harry’s hand peels away from the velvet seat going to your moving hips, pulling you deeper against his embrace with head lying in the crook your neck, breath warm against your ear as you continue your teasing.

“No touching… you know this,” You scold. But despite the taunt you don’t move his hands, instead you slide your fingers on his knees increasing your ruthless movements.

You hear the groan that erupts from him lowly, nails curling into your skin as you push further into him. Turning your head slightly you nearly brush your lips together, it leads you to stutter at the close encounter. The mistake in your movements so distinct that you know he felt it, and if the lights weren’t such a dim glow he would see the way your eyes flare up at the near moment of kissing him.

“But you like it? Don’t you?” Harry purrs in your ear, heart fluttering at the rasp in his voice.

Rather than burrowing deeper into his touch you draw away from his reciprocating moves, his hands falling to his sides as he smirks up at you, expression shining with amusement.

Smile toying on your lips you straddle his thigh, hands running up his arms to curl around his shoulders. Everything about him was driving you crazy; the colour of his eyes, the cologne drawing you in, the material of his suit that feels smooth under your touch. You want him on top of you in every way possible.

As if catching a glimpse into your mind his hands find themselves back on your hips, compelling you to halt your previous movements of swivelling circles to drag roughly down his thigh. Your clit pressing tightly between the material of your panties to his rough motions that it makes you moan surprisingly.

Immediately biting down on your lip you can’t help but lean forward towards his face, his hands still moving you along his body, inching you closer and closer towards him. Nose brush against each other in the rush exchange just as lips nearly touch. You quietly whimper at the feeling of his nails digging into your hips. His mouth parting slightly as if trying to breathe in the sound you release.

You want so badly to lean in and discover the way he tastes. Honestly, you would do anything to have him cocooned around you in this moment, but unfortunately those thoughts don’t overshadow the reality of why you’re both in this room right now.

Skimming your tongue over your bottom lip, your teeth bite deeply into the flesh continuing to let him control your movements, his eyes still staring at you as he watches you restrain yourself from showing pleasure.

“How much you charge for the night?”

The words hang in the air causing your face to draw away from his, mouth parting in surprise as your expression resembles disappointment. You should really laugh at yourself. Did you think he was different than the rest? That the possessive look he has on you meant something more? You barely even know the man and your heart jumps for joy just at the appearance. You’re so naive, so stupid to really think he would see you differently.

“I —I don’t do that.” You mumble, pulling further away from him as you divert your gaze.

The tension that was once a teasing attraction between the both of you now is strained, the hum of the song concluding in the background sounds in the atmosphere while Harry’s grip relaxes realizing your change of emotion.

“Oh? I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.”

Heels balance yourself back on your feet. Arms trailing down the expanse of his as you faintly smile at him, your hands gather the sleeves of your robe around your wrist and drape it back over your shoulders, fingers lacing the ribbon together as the speaker occupying the room begins to play another song.

“It was nice meeting you sir.” You hush, faint smile tugging amongst your lips even though your face reads as if someone stomped on your dreams.

“Hold on now, let me apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you in anyway.” Harry confesses, his hands that were once on your skin reach out to draw you into his touch, however you step back.

It didn’t matter how he was going to form his words to express his regret about the invasive question. Whether he tried to say it in the nicest way or simplest terms, you know how he sees you. Just like your other clients; their little play thing that they want to unwrap to see more skin under the fabric.

It’s why you care little about the words you hear regularly. It’s expected of you even if it wasn’t something you offer. Yet, even when hearing it so many times, it still hurt that you were always perceived that way.

“None taken, have a good night.” You conclude the conversation.

Swiftly turning around you ignore the irritated expression on his face from your words, as you exit the room you try not to think of Harry and the blooming feeling of his presence captivating you.

“You shouldn’t have such high expectations.”

Sparkling wine dazzles under the chandelier lights when Grace brings the glass to her lips. She rolls her eyes faintly as she drinks back the sweet liquid, all you can do is turn the noodles in your pasta out of boredom.

“You know that’s not it.” You sigh, fingers fiddling with the fork and slouching your head on your hand.

“Oh come on!” It’s her turn to exhale tirelessly with annoyed smile on her lips. “I say you let him have what he wants, see what you can get out of him.”

Of course she would say that because she provides that type service but, you on the other hand didn’t. You never look at Grace differently because of it but she would always comment on just letting certain clients pay for sex, little jabs about doing these favours especially since it charges more. Yes, it would be easy to receive such superficial things out of those gestures but you desire more than that, which she knew tremendously.

“You know that’s not my thing.” Letting your fork scrape against the red sauce in your plate.

“Yes that’s what you say but you’re so infatuated with him, just give it a chance you never know what you can get from Mr. Mafia himself?”

“Mr. What?”

Eyes nearly bulge out of your face as if you were a cartoon character. The metal instrument in your hand drops from your grasp with your head raising off your hold in complete shock. Harry was in the mafia? Now you’re just finding out about this?!

“Oops? I thought I told you,” Grace reveals as if it’s so normal to forget.

“Are you serious?” You remark, eyes stuck on the way she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Yes very serious, now relax. Some of our clients don’t have the best professions either.” She points out raising her eyebrows, and to that you nod in agreement.

You breathe in deeply, hands reaching out to grab your drink and take generous sips from discovering this new found information. This beautiful man with sweet colour eyes and soft curls was part of something dangerous. You never thought about what he could possibly do for work but that was definitely not one of them.

“But yes, the man you’re so in love with is in fact part of the mafia.”

“How do you know this?”

“If you spend enough time around drunk Jasper you’ll find out anything babe.”

Laughing faintly you agree to that, he was always the most honest when intoxicated.

“He was telling me about Angelo as a new client, how he’s some club owner laundering money for someone related to Luciano, some mob boss? I don’t know, never heard of that guy, but! When I met Angelo the first time at work… and well after work too, he was always having someone call him under Styles, one time I caught him talking to him on the phone, something about money so I just put two and two together.”

You bite down on your lip, eyes falling away from her hazel ones and to your unattended bolognese. Money laundering? Hopefully that’s the worse he’s ever done, but the inkling feeling roaming in the back of your mind tells you it’s not. Why should you even care though? This false hope that he’ll actually want you is slim, so why even try to care about what he does.

“I’m telling you girl, with the amount of money he probably brings in you should give it some thought.” Grace sends you another look as she continues eating.

Rolling your eyes again you bring the wine glass back to your lips. This conversation was steering its usual direction and frankly you were over it, you need to shove your heart back in your chest and forget these ridiculous ideas.

“Well if this isn’t a coincidence.”

Both of your sights catch on the same men you saw last night, especially on the specific man who is the topic of the conversation. Harry is now standing right in front of you still looking remarkably handsome as ever. This time he was dressed in a navy blue suit that brought out a gentle tone in his eyes. If you weren’t in this restaurant you would probably take up Grace’s words and get on your knees in this moment.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, and unlike the gentlemen’s club the lights inside this restaurant are brightly lit around the room, only highlighting the flush to your skin. Diverting your gaze, you continue to tip the alcohol into your mouth as cheery laughter beams from Grace when she looks between Angelo and you.

“It’s good to know we all have taste,” She humours, while you decide to swallow back the sweet fluid and place your drink back in its previous place.

Your sight darts from your drink to the napkin with extra cutlery to avoid the unwanted attention burning on your face. You know it’s Harry practically boring holes into you, so heavy that you don’t even want to look up and see him. You just willow in Grace’s conversation doing everything to ignore contact.

That’s until weight presses on the back of your chair, the smell of him fills your nose as he practically buries his head into the side of your neck. You’re completely taken back at the gesture, head turning slightly to make distance.

“Are you going to hold onto my mistake forever?” Harry ask, voice low and assertive that you feel your cheeks grow even brighter.

Pulling away from his embrace you scan his face as he straightens his back peering down at you. He studies your appearance in reciprocation to your detecting gaze, as if wanting to know every dip and curve that roams the expanse.

“No.”

“Are you always this cold then?”

“Maybe.”

Finally breaking the stare down you turn towards Grace who smiles sheepishly Angelo way before looking towards you. Sight flickering between Harry retreating next to his friend.

“See you soon.” Grace shines watching the two step away and head to their table.

As soon as they’re out of sight you clench your teeth, fury completely combing through you at the sudden intrusion of the night.

“Ease up on him.” She laughs. It makes you sigh dramatically, reaching over and finishing your glass of wine.

“I want a shot,” You declare. It makes Grace erupt in even more laughter only making you join along. This night was full of surprises.

“For once would you take my advice?”

Monday evening is slow; music transitioning between easygoing temp to dreadful paste. You book a couple private rooms in the beginning of your shift, flirt with some men on the floor to find some entertainment throughout the night, till you’re now in the back room listening to Clarissa and Lucy rant about their evening.

“I told Simon to let Jasper know I’m not taking him anymore and he persists on me keeping him!” Clarissa groans in annoyance hand hitting the leather sofa with frustration. Her energy radiates annoyance.

“Simon probably didn’t even ask, he’s just saying that… you know how he is,” Lucy responds with an eye roll only making you laugh at the exchange.

“I heard that!” Simon strides into the room with clipboard in hand and sharing knowing glances between each girl.

“Lucy you have private room eighty-six, Y/N you have confidential in three-hundred and twenty-three, and Clarissa you’re on the floor in five! No one should be in the back room on slow nights, you ladies all know this.” The statement only causes the group to exchange displeased expressions.

Clarissa and Lucy stand from the couch and make their way towards their own respective vanities while you get out of your seat and move towards the club manager.

“Confidential?” You question, following him as he begins to walk out the room.

“Yes, same gentleman as your last shift so don’t keep him waiting, quickly now,” His voice rush as he takes your wrist softly in his hand and drags you to the elevator, he sends tight limp smile towards the security guard before nodding his head and stepping away.

Same gentleman as last time. Harry wants to see you again? Even yesterday after the attitude you put up? The thoughts erupt in your mind with each of ding of the elevator. Different emotions course through as you make steps towards the familiar door.

You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s just like all of your regulars who simply want to see you, another of your clients. Nothing he can say or do will make you change your mind.

Fingers curl around the door knob, you relax your shoulders and let an alluring smile spread on your strawberry colour lips. The bubbling anxiety rumbles in your stomach as you retrieve the door open and move deeper into the room.

He sat on the diamond encrusted sofa, white button up with few undone to reveal ink roaming amongst his collar bones. His back is against the seat with arms laid amongst the sculpted frame, one hand free while the other held a glass of dark liquor. Even though he was sluggishly sitting along the chair, the way his hair was in messy curls and gaze falling to every step you make towards him, you shiver in excitement.

“Mr. Styles.” You smirk, concealing the feelings that spark in you.

Harry’s eyes venture down the expanse of your appearance, lingering extremely long on the way your hips sway, to them eventually staring even longer at your lips while you look down on him. His tongue escapes his mouth to run over his flesh, the hand occupying his drink brings it to his lips.

You let your eyes reciprocate his actions, staring longingly at this disheveled appearance; you admire how charming he looks relax with his ruffled curls and roaming eyes. You want to reach out and brush your hand across his skin but instead you let them slide down your waist comfortably.

“You look good in red.” Harry comments locking sight and smirking at you. His hands twirl the ice cubes in his empty glass that echoes in the space.

Smiling faintly at the compliment, you bow your head at the acknowledgment. “Thank you sir.”

Harry draws his other hand off the frame, fingers reaching into his breast pocket feeling over the contents before pulling out two blue bills. The warmth of his palm melts against your skin as it slips through the space in your robe and slides it into the band of your panties.

“Fill up my glass.”

He’s pushing it into your hand, voice so demanding it makes you confuse at the change of tone. You welcome the cool feel of it before turning around and going to the serving bar located in the room.

With your movements unscrewing the bottle to pour the contents, you hear ruffling from behind. Your heart beats so intensely it begins to give you chest pains. Circling back on your heels and making your way towards Harry, you see another few bills between his fingers as you hold his drink in front of him.

“Sit down.”

You oblige taking the seat next to him, mind completely confused on the change of his behaviour. You know your attitude yesterday may have been uncalled for but this was a different type of treatment. His presence being so cold yet inviting, you can’t tell if you’re scared by him or not.

The hand resting along the couch occupied with papers between his fingers run along the strap of your bra, he tucks the bills there while his gaze goes back to admiring you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, welcoming the his palm going to your breast to feel up your neck and grip your jaw with dominance.

“Do you forgive me?”

Threaded brows press together completely dropping your suggestive demeanour, eyes going to his suited pants until his grip tightens and directs your attention back to his.

“Is that what this is?” You continue, gaze running over the way his jaw flexes. “This money for my forgiveness. I’ve heard worse things in my field of work sir but, I’m very appreciative of the gesture.”

Your hand trails away from your thigh and drags along his knee, body leaning into this scent as you completely fall into your thoughts of this handsome man before you.

“So you don’t forgive me.” Harry responds coolly, the pads of his fingers sink deeper into your skin.

“I don’t care.” You state. Clenching down on your teeth while he releases his hold on your jaw. He rolls his eyes at your words, bringing the glass to his lips.

“You’re so frustrating.”

The comment causes your expression to grow with annoyance.

“Do you want me to dance or not?” Attitude clear in your tone as the palm of your hand continues to glide down the expanse of his thighs.

“No. I just want you to sit there.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been running away from me. So, I’m paying you not to.”

Swallowing hesitantly the previous motions you draw on his skin pause. Sight tearing away from him and falling to your polish nails. Well, aren’t you stuck. Sitting against these velvet seats with erratic heart and sweaty palms. The light beat of the song playing through the space between you both only intensifies the atmosphere even more. The ice smashing against his glass every few moments as Harry brings the drink to his lips.

“What do you want?” You say after a few minutes, fingers fiddling together when you look up at him.

“Isn’t it obvious already?” His voice still lace with frustration as he turns his head.

“You.”

Cheeks burn bright with mouth parting, the emotions he makes you feel… he was also feeling them as well. You distract yourself urgently flickering your eyes between him, trying to collect your words wisely.

“You don’t even know me.” The sentence not causing his gaze to waver. He’s still looking at you with this stone glare.

“So… tell me about yourself.” Harry suppresses the irritation in his voice as he rises his brow.

“Are you serious?” Completely surprised at the change of events.

“Very, now do tell.” Drink in hand gesturing for you to begin.

Suddenly that’s how you spend the rest of your night, introducing yourself to Harry. It range from telling him how you begin working at Jasper’s to how you grew up, and when your mind would dwindle he would ask you his own questions.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Two creams one sugar.”

“Favourite food?”

“I love Thai.”

And without the disturbance of Simon ushering you to another room after your extended stay with Harry, you grow comfortable. Relaxing in his embrace and answering anything that came to his mind.

This connection that was clouding your judgment is too good to be true, from the introduction of your meeting to the the way your head is nestle in the crook of his neck, you thrive in the affection. Not listening to your overthinking thoughts that stir you in the wrong direction.

Instead, you let him know everything he wants; you tell him your favourite colour and how you like your steak cooked, to even confiding to him about certain clients you weren’t exactly keen of. The fact that you’ve only known the man for three days and was telling him your whole life story was beyond what you could imagine at the moment, he makes you relax and feel acknowledged. It was nice to feel this way after three years.

Since that night Harry began to make his appearance throughout the week. The same room, for the same time, in the exact same position as last. With each meeting he never let you dance or even suggest it, instead he let you talk whether it was anything on your mind or his, that’s how you spent your evenings.

His presence was relief during your hectic week, depending on your availability between clients you spend as much time as possible in his touch and finding serenity in the way his voice soothes you.

It was now Sunday and you were off, deciding on staying in tonight and catching up on Real Housewives. You sat in your loft with Cleo tuck on your lap, fingers digging into the bag of popcorn while the other reaches towards your ringing phone.

“Hello!” You sing, eyes caught on the dinner scene happening before you.

“Not in today?” The voice on the other line making your body shiver with excitement.

“No sorry, I don’t work Sundays… I should’ve told you.” You confess, guilt brews of him going to the club and not finding you there.

“No worries, what are you doing now?”

Eyebrows rise up on your forehead with deep breath releasing, you flick your eyes around immediately taking your hand out of the popcorn bag to grab the remote and lower the volume, body straightening up as you sink your teeth into your lip.

“Miss me already?” Fingers falling to your plump flesh as smirk pulls on the skin. Harry’s laugh sounds through the speaker, the happy cheer making your heart leap.

“Yes. Yes I do, how can I not?” Lashes flutter with smile beaming shyly.

Maybe this was all too good to be true. Maybe this was just a fleeting moment that Harry is having; booking you six nights out of the week, paying you to refill his glass and converse with him. Maybe he was just going through phases, maybe he just thought of you as another one of his toys. But this attention was one you couldn’t pass up; the way he admires at you, the feel of his hands gracing your body for sheer moments, the reassurance of his words when speaking your thoughts. After years of petty affection and surface base material, this for once felt different. It felt genuine even if you’ve only known him within such short time.

“Are you home?” Are his next words to break the silence.

“Yes,” You answer, fingers trailing from your lips to run into your hair nervously.

“Can I come over?” Heart practically melting in your chest at the suggestion.

“Yes.” With blooming hues of pink roaming amongst your cheekbones.

Eager emotions flood your body as you voice your address to him before ending the call. Your hand drops the remote and gently moves Cleo off your lap as you escape towards your room.

What the hell did you get yourself into and what the hell are you even suppose to wear? Your outfit currently being an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts will certainly not do the job as you venture into your closet; skimming over hoodies and dresses. You end on grabbing your two piece yoga set hoping it will suffice compared to how you look throughout the week.

Sitting in front of your vanity you immediately comb through your hair and brush through your lashes. Nerves coursing through your body at Harry coming over. The unusual excitement of getting worked up for seeing someone revels in your mind, you skim over your features intricately to look for something off when you know that there wasn’t anything. There is this need to look your absolute best for him, even you know you already do.

Huffing slightly at the thoughts running through your mind you get up and make your way out of the room and head into the kitchen, fingers immediately lighting candles and then running quickly to the couch to begin folding the blanket you once laid on. If you were being recoded right now you would laugh at how you run across the spacious condo to make sure everything looks in place.

With ideas of the night ahead bombarding your mind the familiar sound of the buzzer quakes in the room making your heart drop. You step away from the couch and move towards the door, hand pressing the button to let him in.

This feeling was as if you were a teenager all over again. These dreamy aspect of emotions being as if you saw your high school crush passing in the hallway. It’s been three years without mental or physical affection, this new found treatment from someone was making you drunk off happiness.

With these nerves overcoming you, the urgency for alcohol to sooth your system lingers in your mind making you go over to your fridge and take out the chilling wine to soon tug your body over to your glass rack and pull two off, you’re setting them on the table when there’s knocking at the door.

Taking a deep breath you count to three, making your way over and unlocking it. Grin toying on your lips with Harry revealing himself adorn in his black suit.

Chest quakes with each pump of your heart as his lips mirror your happiness. Widening the door you let him step into your home, body turning to shut the door before letting your smile turn nervous.

“I know you drink whisky but I only have wine for tonight.” You stammer, body making your way over to the island and gesturing to the bottle of Prosecco.

Harry looks over the bottle, his eye soon falling on yours with smirk appearing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Control motions peel open the new bottle and fill each cup. He takes his drink in hand before humming at the taste.

“Enjoy reality tv?” The question only makes the warmth in your cheek spread further as you look at the television screen displaying women throwing drinks and overturning the table.

“Oh… um… yes,” You stumble over your words, avoiding Harry’s eyes as he chuckles next to you.

“Flustered are we?” He points out, body bumping into you teasingly.

“This is what you came over to do then, just make me a blabbering mess in my own home.” You pout, sight moving away from the granite counter as you lift the wine glass to your lips and look at him.

Amuse expression shines over his face while he shrugs his shoulders in response. “It does make things more interesting.”

“Interesting?” You recite in his own tone.

His hand that rest along the counter passes through the space between you both to let his palm venture down your waist.

“Yes… interesting how displeased with me you were at first yet having this look of want in your eyes.” Your gaze blares, confusion written all over your face while you relax deeper into his touch.

“I —I feel it too.” He’s hesitant before clearing his throat, lashes flutter against the hollows of his eyes as he collects himself. “This pull to be next to you… it’s unexplainable… ever since the first night.”

The words Harry formulates as if he’s just letting his heart expel everything he’s been building up over the week. It makes the one in your chest thunder with admiration.

“And I shouldn’t have said those things… it’s so stupid but my mind went blank and I just…” His brows push together trying to collect his thoughts properly. “The night I saw you at the restaurant it made me realize I really fuck up. I don’t want to do that with you ever again. I want you to trust me, I want you to love me, I want you to—“

But you immediately cut him off letting your emotions spring in and press your lips against his. Wine stain flesh burns on each other as gracious pecks transform into tongues joining together. The hand that trail down your hips run over your backside.

The heat that he expels when he steps deeper as if shielding you with protection has you moaning against him, head tilting slightly to invite the arousal blooming.

As his palm moves further the surprise of his grip tightening around your ass makes you jump, the hand that was wrapped around your glass bumping against the underside of it causing it to tip over.

“Fuck!” The crashing sound of it smacking against the counter makes you part away from him. “I’m so sorry.” You breathe out. Leaving his embrace to go to the paper towel dispenser and beginning to clean the mess. Cheeks burning even brighter from knocking over your wine.

“Relax baby,” Harry coos, hands falling on your nervous ones as you clean up the puddle.

Laughing shyly you shake your head embarrassed by your behaviour.

“You make me anxious,” The confession falling out of your mouth effortlessly as you collect the drench paper.

His palms grip your fingers tightly causing your gaze to catch with his. Instead of an irritated expression he shares one of amusement and adoration.

“Likewise.”

And ever since that night the connection between you both grows stronger; Harry visits during your shifts to meeting you right afterwards. Coming home to bouquet of roses and designer bags, sending you black trucks to take you out to dinner or meeting with you at Bottega Veneta to piece together an outfit for him.

Two weeks of knowing Harry and he was already dazzling you with the most extravagant gifts but still remaining respectful and never letting you dance when he visit the club. You’re absolutely head over heels. He’s always kind and gentle with you, never pushing your boundaries and soothing you with his words. This affection was a breath of fresh air and you’re undoubtedly happy about it.

Although the regard to respect you was admirable, you were beginning to crave more than cherish kisses and subtle touches. A plan brewed in your mine once your eyes peeled open this morning and you decided to put it in motion tonight. So, as you sit in front of your vanity of the club you fix the straps of your embroidered charcoal bra and look over yourself in the mirror.

“Who might you be expecting?” Clarissa calls from across the room. Your glossy lips don’t hesitate to smile as you look towards her.

“I told you about Harry, right?” You remark, letting your fingers run under the band of the bra to fit more comfortable against your skin.

“Oh! That’s who has you in a good mood lately,” Lucy joins in, jet black hair framing her face in layers with smirk written all over her features.

“If you say so,” You sing, turning around in your chair to look over yourself again.

“Don’t think we haven’t been seeing your post lately,” Clarissa marvels while drumming her fingers against the table.

“So generous with his gift-giving,” Lucy continues in her playful tone, only making you giggle.

The heavy steps of Simon thunder against the oak flooring as he makes his way into the room. Head set intact with clip board in hand, he begins to give everyone knowing looks assuring everyone of their duties tonight.

“And Y/N, you have your regular in confidential.” He finishes at the end of his list before turning to usher the ladies onto the floor from the back room.

“Have fun babe, be safe.” Clarissa whispers when passing you with gentle hug.

You smile at her while nodding with assurance. Looking over yourself, you tie your robe together, lips running over one another before stepping out of your chair and making your way towards the familiar room.

Even with spending so many days with Harry, these emotions that quake whenever he’s mention or to soon bare his presence always resonate these deep feelings; this need to feel his touch rougher on your skin or feel him in the sweet places that you think of him most. You knew this was beyond the earlier arrangements of your first initial meeting, this meant more.

Cigarette smoke roams the air as you make your way towards him. He’s in his usual spot, tailor suit gracing his appearance beautifully as you smile at him. Manicure nails drag against the material while his hands feel over your covered hips.

“Hi angel.” Harry says while feeling over your body.

“Baby,” You purr, moving deeper into his touch. “I have a question for you.”

His features raise in question but doesn’t stop his wondering hands from pulling the ribbon of your robe apart and revealing your body to him.

He hums attentively, looking over your face as he continues to roam over your skin. You’re so enthralled by his touch that you nearly forget your plan.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” Statement leaving your mouth with fingers roaming up his neck and playing with the hair there.

Forest eyes flash with worship as his grip tightens against your waist.

“I feel like you’re made for me.” Knees push his apart as you step between his legs.

“I swear you just take my breath away.” Head craning down for your lips to trail kisses along his cheeks to his jaw.

“You’ve imprint my heart so deeply.” Your hands find themselves running over his chest while his roam over your backside.

“That your love feels undeserving for someone like me.” Those words making you swell with sympathy as kisses continue down the curve of his neck.

“It’s so intense I just have to be near you.” Fingers undoing the few buttons of his shirt as you begin to sink to your knees. His eyes lock on you while his hands link together in your hair, the smooth symphony in the air only escalates the tension.

“Feel you.” He continues, eyes fluttering as your hands move away from his chest to feel over his thighs.

“Hear you.” Your fingers glaze over his erection as you both look at each other with lust.

“Be inside you.” Nails dragging roughly over the print with mascara coated lashes batting up at him.

“Tonight’s your lucky night.” You cut him off. Smirk smoothing over your lips as you begin to undo his belt buckle. “Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.”

Shifting under your hold he watches you retrieve him out of his boxers. Tongue immediately escapes your mouth looking at how thick and heavy he sits in your hand. It makes pure arousal quake between your thighs as you tug him gently, eyes catching with his.

“Been holding out on me.” It’s his turn to send you a smirk. The look alone makes you want to skip foreplay and take him right there.

You lean in with tongue running from the base to the tip. Pressing flat against the underside it leaves trail of saliva in its wake, your mouth enveloping the crown of his cock while his chest raises with pure satisfaction. His hands continuing to run through your hair.

Pleasant moan vibrates through your throat as your mouth ventures down the expanse of him, tastebuds savouring the salty flavour with each descend of your mouth as you find your paste.

Both of you are still set in this hyper-focus trance looking at each other with the pleasing gestures you assert over him. Spit coating his member as you glide down his cock, plump lips wrapping around his girth as you swallow him down.

“S’good,” Harry slurs, one hand leaving your hair to drag along your neck.

Lashes flutter up at him, relishing in the blissful look crossing his face. He slides down your throat effortlessly with your head bobbing swiftly, his cock wrapped in the slick space of your mouth.

Your clit throbs between your legs, the need to have attention there stirs your next movements as you let your hands glide across his thighs and gather his twin globes into your palm and begin massaging them.

The gesture has Harry groaning, nails gliding down your skin in the change in motions. Eye contact breaking as his head falls against the couch with chest rising in urgency. The site alone makes you want to come, but instead you suffice for the whimper that leaves your mouth when letting yourself glide back up his cock.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” Harry moans, fingers trailing away from your neck to collect your hair in his palm.

The comment makes your stomach tremble, his hands following your gracious movements, with sweat beginning to shine from his temples as he chews away on his lip.

“Look at me baby,” He coos, his hold tugging your mouth away from him. Diverting your attention you look up at him; red eyes with saliva glistening across your lips as shaky breath escapes.

“So pretty for me,” Harry utters, thumb running across your bottom lip as his green eyes search your face. “Stand up, get this off.” He reaches over to tug on your robe.

You raise off your knees letting the garment trail off your shoulders as you stand. You’re immediately letting your feet kick off your tall heels, pleasantly sighing at the relaxing comfort at having them off.

The next motions are your hands teasingly pulling your panties down, Harry’s eyes watching every movement as he watches you unclasp your bra next.

His hands reach out for you, feeling over your soft skin as pulls you into him. Straddling his thighs your fingers go to his chest to pull his blazer off, he quickly follows your lead to take it off the rest of the way while you decide to continue undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I want to feel you.” You breathe against his skin.

Gripping his cock in your hand, you gently let him glide between your folds. Harry nods earnestly against your chest, his hold moving from your waist to your breasts, his lips pressing against your fever skin as you let yourself sink down on him. High pitch whimper drawing from your throat as he stretches you out.

“You drive me crazy,” Harry utters with grip tightening as your hips meet each other.

A soft cry releases from your lips as you find the strength to raise back up on your knees and grind yourself into his lap. The thick strain of his dick against your walls has your head falling into his face.

Erotic moans fill the room when your hips discover the perfect rhythm that has him dragging down your folds in the most beautiful way with the combination of him reaching depths of pure bliss.

Harry hand trail away from your breasts and wrap around your throat, rough grasp taking ahold of you as he brings you deeper into his face. From the grip he has to the haunting look in his eyes you are completely devoid of every sense in your body.

“Good girl.” He continues, his thighs positioning himself better on the couch as he begins to thrust and meet your hips in perfect unison.

The name makes your frantic heart gush with devotion, eyes fluttering at the air shortening in your lungs while your nails curl around his shoulders digging into his skin.

“So good for me.” Harry rasps, his merciless strides into your pussy halting your previous movements.

The sweet nectar you produce between your legs sound with each thrust from the satisfying pleasure coursing through you. The static of your climax catches in the pit of your stomach, your eyes rolling from how deep he’s in you that you can’t help but lunge forward.

Lips connecting fiercely with the taste of him making you hum as your tongue explores him. The rough grip he holds around your neck relaxes as he continues his frantic thrusts.

The spark of your release climbs up your spine with fury; head tilting back, eyes fluttering in the thrill of falling apart around him. Your walls quiver in irritated satisfaction as your climax barrels over in passionate rage.

“Tell me…” Harry breathes when pulling away from your face, his eyes watching your dazed out state. Your fingers go numb against his shoulders, with your head completely being propped up by the hold he still has over your throat. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

Completely intoxicated with satisfaction of your release you let your lips begin to pepper kisses along his jaw. The urge to prove to him how much he means to you in this moment has your pussy meeting his rhythmic thrusts.

“Like I’m on fire,” You moan, nails digging into the material of his soaked button up.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me,” Urging him with the seductive tone in your voice. The hands he has wrapped around your neck tenses as he looks at you completely intrigued.

“I —It feels so good,” You whimper as you slowly rock yourself down his length. “You feel so good baby.”

Deep throaty growl shivers over your embrace as his head relaxes deeper into the frame of the couch.

“I want you like this forever.”

The flex of your slick walls around him earns a delicious moan from him. His seed painting your walls effortlessly as you continue to work yourself through his climax. Your fingers travel to his hair and bring your lips back together.

Harry releases his hold from your throat, his palms venturing down your sides and massaging the skin as you lazily ride him. Body relaxing against his comfort as you welcome his kisses.

“Do you even know how weak you make me feel.” Harry breathes against your lips, hands gripping your ass roughly to push you deeper into his chest.

“No… but I like when you tell me.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she won't be the only one - Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

request : "Bedtime stories would be the favourite part of his night routine with his babies especially after he comes back home from a long period and I can just imagine him getting them all ready for bed, tucking them in, sitting on his favourite chair in their colourful bedroom and reading them one of their favourite books 🥺🥹" - anon

pairing: dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Anon, I don't know if that was a request or not, but I used as inspiration because yes to everything you said!!!! (if anyone hasn't seen Lewis's Cbeebies, go watch it ).

Anyway, it's dad! Lewis, he's got a hold on all of us apparently.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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A soft glow from the outdoor light made its way through the window of their daughter's princess-themed bedroom, casting long shadows across the toy cars strategically placed amongst the stuffed animals and fluffy pillows.

The Three-year-old, a restless ball of energy during the day, was now a picture of contentment snuggled under her favorite flower blanket.

Lewis starting the bedtime ritual as his voice dropped to a soothing murmur.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…"

Y/d/n's eyes, a perfect copy to Lewis’s except for the glint of mischief, widened with anticipation. She loved their bedtime stories, especially the ones Lewis told with his best voices and interpretations.

Tonight, however, something was different. The story wasn't about a dragon, the fairies or the warriors she had grew accustomed to. It was about a princess who longed for someone to share her adventures.

"But why, daddy?" she piped up, interrupting the narrative. "Why did the princess want someone else?"

Lewis smiled, his heart overflowing with the love for his daughter and the excitement for the news he was about to share. "She wanted someone to play with, someone to tell stories to, to share secrets and adventures with."

Her small brow furrowed in concentration. "Like Olaf to Anna?"

"More like Elsa to Anna, sweetheart," Y/n chimed in, her voice laced with a hint of nervousness. "Someone who'll always be there for you, no matter what."

Y/d/n's eyes sparkled with confusion. "A sibling?"

“Like a little brother or sister" Lewis confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"A brother or sister? Like uncle Nic and you, or Kaiden and Willow?" Her little brain working overtime to grasp the idea of a permanent playmate, someone who would be with her all the time.

Lewis chuckled, stroking her cheeks gently. "Yes, darling, just like us. Someone to build pillow forts with, someone to have silly dance parties with in your pajamas, someone to plot with."

"Can I have a little brother or sister for Christmas, then?" She squealed with delight, the possibility sinking in as she emphasized the I.

Y/n's breath hitched. This wasn't quite how she envisioned revealing the news, but her daughter’s enthusiasm was contagious. She exchanged a nervous glance with Lewis, who gave her a reassuring nod.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n reached out and placed a gentle hand on her stomach, a slight curve that had only recently become noticeable. "Sweetheart," she began, her voice soft yet firm, "You're going to get your very own sibling already, but a bit earlier than Christmas."

Y/d/n’s eyes widened even further. She stared at Y/n's stomach, then back at her face, trying to process the information. "Like, next week?"

Lewis joined the conversation, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, not quite that soon, sweetheart. But in about five or six months, you'll have a little brother or sister to play with."

The three-year-old’s expression turned thoughtful. The idea of a sibling, someone who would be a constant companion, was exciting yes, but also a little bit scary. "Will it be a tiny baby like the ones in the picture books?" she inquired when she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, at first" Y/n explained, pulling out a book they had recently bought about pregnancy. "But then, the baby will grow bigger and bigger until it's finally ready to come out, just like you did."

She studied the book, her brow furrowed in concentration, pointing to a picture of a baby with tiny fingers and toes. "Will it be tiny like this?"

Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with love. "Even tinier, maybe the size of your daddy's hand."

Lewis held out his hand, his fingers spread wide. Y/d/n’s eyes opening up wide as she compared the size of her own hand to her father's. "That small? How will I play with it?"

Lewis wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "It may be small at first, but babies grow quick. Soon, it will be big enough to hold toys and maybe even crawl around while you run with them."

The conversation continued for a while longer, filled with her endless questions about the baby's size, what it would look like, and what games they could play together.

With each answer, Lewis and Y/n watched their daughter’s apprehension gradually melt away, replaced by a something akin to excitement. The fear of the unknown faded as they painted a picture of a tiny companion who would grow into a lifelong friend.

"So, the baby is like a little friend who lives inside you, Mommy, until it's big enough to come out?" she summarized, her eyes wide with wonder.

Y/n beamed. "Exactly, sweetheart. How do you feel about being a big sister?"

She puffed out her little chest, a sense of pride evident in her eyes. " I'll teach them how to race cars like Daddy and how to sing all the princess songs with me."

Lewis chuckled, picturing his little girl teaching a newborn the finer points of car racing. "Sounds like a plan. But first, we’d like for you to pick out a special stuffed animal for your new sibling, their very first. How about that?"

Y/d/n's face lit up. The prospect of picking a gift overshadowed any remaining worries. She scrambled off the bed, her bare feet padding softly across the floor as she raced to the overflowing toy chest in the corner of the room.

The house settled into a comfortable silence as Lewis and Y/n watched their daughter disappear into the world of fluffy friends. A warmth bloomed in their hearts as they envisioned their family growing, the laughter of two children echoing through their home.

"She's going to be a fantastic big sister" Lewis said, his voice filled with pride. “I know I was a bit hesitant, but you were right love, this is right timing for us.”

Y/n leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I hope so" she whispered, a hint of nervousness creeping back into her voice. Lewis squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We'll figure it out, love. Together. We always do."

He looked at the picture of Y/d/n picking out one of her own teddies, his heart brimming with love. The challenges ahead seemed insignificant compared to the joy of watching their family grow. This wasn't just about having another child.

As the little girl reappeared, clutching a stuffed Sally she had been gifted by a fan she climbed back onto her bed to give her dad the car “I guess they can have Sally, so my Guido has someone to play with too”

The gentle whoosh of the ar conditioning created a low drone as Y/n tiptoed into the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the scene before her like a snapshot.

Lewis, his back to the door, sat cross-legged on the bed, a picture of focused concentration. In his lap, nestled between his arms, was their daughter, her dark hair cascading over his forearm like a waterfall. His voice, a soothing murmur, weaved a tale of a brave princess and a fire-breathing dragon.

Y/n's heart ached with an unfamiliar pang. It wasn't the story, nor the picture of domestic bliss before her. It was the future it represented, an addition to a future she desperately craved and Lewis seemed hesitant about.

As Lewis kept reading the story, the little girl giggled, her tiny hand clutching the collar of his t-shirt. Y/n watched, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. The girl's boundless energy, her infectious laughter – they were the very things that made Y/n's desire for another child stronger.

The idea of filling their home with that same joyous spirit, of witnessing the bond blossom between siblings, had been a constant thought for a while.

But Lewis. Lewis, her rock, her partner in this whirlwind they called life, seemed to hesitate whenever the topic of expanding their family came up. They'd discussed it, of course, late-night whispers, celebrations and arguments had occurred. But every excited statement from Y/n was met with a string of concerns from Lewis.

They had always been a good team and when Y/d/n was born she had fitted right in. They had navigated the demanding world of Formula One with practiced ease, and Y/n's career was on an upswing, her meticulous planning and organization allowing them to be present for Lewis's races with the help of their families.

But another child would throw that intricate balance into chaos. They wouldn't be able to travel as much, the demands of a newborn and a toddler would stretch them to their limits.

Y/n understood and even shared some his apprehension, yet her heart rebelled.

A lump formed in her throat as the story ended, punctuated by her daughter's sleepy sigh. Lewis leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Night, night, princess," he whispered, his voice thick with love.

Y/n waited for him to rise before clearing her throat. Lewis looked up, his smile fading slightly at the sight of her downcast expression. "Hey. She fell asleep mid story, as usual" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lewis lowered Y/d/n into the bed, tucking the covers around her. He rose and met Y/n's gaze; his brow furrowed. The tension in the room was thick, a silent conversation brimming beneath the surface.

"Sounds just like her " she mumbled, forcing a smile. She walked away from the bedroom, stopping at the sofa on the tiny living room of their hotel room, Lewis followed stopping at a safe distance.

"It just hit me," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing her like that, with you…"

She trailed off, unable to voice the words churning within her. Lewis sighed, running a hand in his arms. "We talked about this, love. It's a big decision."

"I know," she whispered, her eyes gazing his. "But the way she is, wouldn't it be amazing to…"

Her voice broke, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Lewis approached her, his hand reaching out to brush her cheek. The warmth of his touch soothing her mind even in the midst of her turmoil, a reminder of the love they shared.

"I see it, Y/n," he said, his voice low and full of empathy. "Every day. But we can’t look at it through rose-colored glasses. The sleepless nights, the constant demands, the impact on our careers, on Y/d/n…"

His words were a bucket of cold water on her simmering dreams. "Don’t you think it’d be worth it, Lewis? In the end?"

He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the same desired she felt, only with the concerns he couldn’t quite brush off. "I don't know, babe. Honestly, I don't know."

Their living room was electric with energy. Laughter and excited chatter filled the air as Lewis's family gathered for their usuals get-togethers. Y/d/n, the center of attention, clutched a small, brightly wrapped box in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Y/n watched from the sidelines, a nervous flutter in her stomach. Today was the day they planned to share the news of their new addition.

The past months had been a whirlwind of emotions, filled with late-night talks and cautious optimism. They had finally reached a decision, a fragile agreement that felt more like a question mark than a period. And the two lines on that test had cemented the changes, whether they were ready for it or not.

The three-year-old, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, skipped towards her grandmother. "Grandma, I have a present for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with childish glee.

Carmen, Lewis's mom, beamed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "What's this, my sweet girl?" she asked, taking the box gently.

Inside the box lay a fluffy teddy bear sporting a tiny t-shirt with the words "I'm gonna be a big sister" on the front. Carmen gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked up at her granddaughter, astonishment etched on her face.

"Mom and Dad are giving me my very own sibling, Grandma!" she chimed in, her excitement palpable.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning towards Y/n and Lewis. A nervous smile stretched across Y/n's face as Lewis cleared his throat.

"Surprise?" Lewis confirmed, his voice holding a hint of trepidation. "We’re pregnant."

Everyone's surprise quickly melted into a warm smile. Tears welled up in his mother eyes as she embraced Y/n tightly. "Oh, this is wonderful news!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so happy for you three."

Relief washed over Y/n. The acceptance in Carmen's eyes, the joy radiating from her voice, eased some of the anxiety that had been nagging her. The room erupted in congratulations as other family members chimed in, offering their best wishes.

Lewis and Y/n found themselves enveloped in a sea of good cheer. Hugs were exchanged, stories were reminisced, and plans for the future were excitedly discussed. Y/d/n, the star of the show, basked in the attention, proudly showing off her new "big sister" teddy bear.

As the afternoon wore on, however, a quiet moment emerged between Y/n and Lewis. They stood tucked away in a corner of the room, their hands intertwined.

"You seem nervous" Lewis said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Y/n bit her lip, torn between her elation and the lingering doubts. "I am" she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "What if it's too much? What if we can't handle it?"

Lewis placed his other hand on her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that traced its way down her face. "We will" he said with quiet conviction. "We'll figure it out, together. Like we always do."

He looked at her, his eyes reflecting her own apprehension, but also excitement. "We may not have all the answers, but I’ll tell you one thing - we're a team."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

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If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[chanshoesunite]

Chan on the Beach

Content Info: Chan and Y/N meet on a beach in Australia at Christmas and have some fun. This is an edit of Hare's bday fic for Tortoise. No beta we die like Y/N's resistance against lifeguard Chan.

Word count: around 6K

Warnings: semi-public sex, dirty talk

„Aaaah, this is the life!”

You reach over to grab your Virgin Lavender Mojito off the little table next to your lounger. Taking a sip through your plastic-free straw, you let your gaze, well-protected behind your heart-shaped shades, wander across the bay. From your position high up next to the rooftop pool of the renowned “Park Hyatt Sydney”, you can see the world-famous opera house.

“I know, right?” Your best friend Hare is next to you, holding a flashy pink cocktail. “Bless this job!”

As a pilot, Hare is allowed to bring someone along whenever she needs to fly over one of the major holidays, and since it’s Christmas in Austria right now and you’ll only fly back on the 28th, she chose her best friend to keep her company in her five-star hotel. There really are worse fates.

You stand to let your gaze properly explore the vicinity. “Do you fancy going to the beach?” you ask, spying the almost glisteningly white sand in the distance.

Hare raises an eyebrow at you, which you only realise because now it appears behind her sunglasses. “And getting eaten by a shark? Is this your idea of a good time?”

You giggle. “Oh, come on, there are safety nets. And anyway, I was thinking we could do one of those fun videos where you throw sand and I twirl in it? You know, for the Gram?”

Hare looks like she has half a mind to protest, might find this not worth the hassle, but then her smile softens. “Sure,” she says. “Let me check with the hotel staff to find the best beach access for us.”

…

An hour later, you are in your gloriously colourful bikini, twirling barefoot in the sand even though it’s too hot for comfort – not that you would give that away and ruin your Instagram reel, though. Hare is holding your phone, trying to get the perfect angle to have the sun glistening in a golden hour-way on the water.

“And now the sand,” you prompt. “You kinda just let it fly in the breeze, so it looks nice behind me.”

Hare looks dubious for a second. “What if I mess up and hit someone else?” You wave it off. “There’s nobody around!”

It’s true enough – it’s around dinner time, and your stretch of the beach is, possibly due to the holiday, rather empty. Hare nods. “Okay, sure.” She bends down to grab some of the white sand and repositions herself to throw it into the air. You twirl, and from the way Hare’s lips widen into a grin, you can tell it’s a great shot. You can already imagine how amazing you’ll look and how many likes you’ll get, maybe you should cross-post it on TikTok and-

“Oi!”

Both of you turn to see someone standing there. And what a someone. Well, two someones, actually, but your eyes are glued to Someone Number One. He isn’t exactly tall, but well built, his black swimming shorts showing off his narrow hips and creating a marvellous contrast to his thoroughly-trained upper body. He has a sharp jawline that you would like him to use to cut you into chips, a big nose, well-formed cheek bones and beautiful eyes that are, admittedly, currently glaring at you. “What’s that all about?”

One glance at his wet upper body, which is now covered in sand, tells the entirety of what happened – that he is the unwilling participator in an Instagram challenge gone just a little wrong.

Hare gets her bearings faster, but from the way she eyes the taller, lithe man next to the buff grumpy guy, you assume that in order to get into her head, you would have to pass an 18+ ID check. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there and meant absolutely no harm!” She extends one of their towels to the taller guy who looks a little like a Korean forest fairy. “Here, please.”

The guy accepts the towel from her, cleaning his (for his build) substantial abs. You tear your gaze away and meet the buff dude’s eyes, who sarcastically pulls up one eyebrow. For a second, you don’t know what to do.

“Oh!” You realise he’s expecting you to also offer him a towel, so you do. At the way you briefly flounder around, your nemesis’ face softens, and a little smile plays on his face. It’s a good look on him, you decide. “Cheers”, he thanks you, cleaning himself up. “What were you even doing there, throwing sand?” he asks, somewhat curious and content now that the sand isn’t on his pecs but your expensive hotel towel. His voice is still a little gruff, a little dark, a little deep, his Australian accent making it all the more delicious.

Hare, the ever-trusting girl that she is, extends her phone to him. “I was filming a slow-mo reel. It looks absolutely gorgeous if you ask me. Sorry again, but it was kind of worth hitting you with sand for it.”

The two men watch the reel and you can feel your face heating up. You haven’t even seen it yourself yet, and now those two handsome dudes get to do so before you?! You should be mad at Hare, but from the way buff guy’s face softens watching it, you really, really can’t.

Handing her phone back to Hare, the guy looks at you. “You’re beautiful in this,” he says, a little sparkle in his dark eyes. “If I can follow you on Instagram, you’re forgiven.”

Ummmmmm. That’s a statement you haven’t anticipated. You gulp a bit. “Okay,” you agree, and accept the phone back from Hare to open the app for him. Your hand brushes his as you hand it over, and the back of your neck prickles. At the touch, his eyes find yours, and he smirks just the tiniest bit before focusing on the device to type in his Instagram handle. You feel a little lost for words, so you look over at Hare, who confidently winks at you. “Maybe we can buy you two a drink in order to make up for the, er, Sand Incident?”

The other boy chuckles. You take a moment to look at him more carefully and appreciate his fine features, his longer hair tied back in a ponytail. He is beautiful, no doubt about it, but you prefer his shorter friend. “That’s a lovely offer, but we’re actually headed to a party later.” Ponytail glances at the Short King. “But actually…?”

The Short King has finished typing his name. “Yeah, how about you come along?” he finishes the sentence. “I’m Chan,” he adds as he hands back the phone, “but lots of people call me Chris.” Chan nods at the phone and you glance at the handle. “Chanstopher97”. Oh, he’s younger, too. Hot. You accept his following request.

“And I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy smiles at Hare in a way that shows you he seems just as taken with your friend as her body language suggests she is with him. Nice.

“I’m Y/N,” you take charge of the conversation now, and there is a laugh dancing in Chan’s eyes. “And that’s Hare. And about our evening plans…” You look over at Hare, hoping to telepathically communicate that you’re not ready to make this impromptu decision without talking it through with her first.

Hare smiles. “We have dinner plans, but why don’t you text Y/N the address and we’ll see if we can meet you there?” You two share a look and you feel seen and comforted. Hare is keeping your options open but not consenting or refusing in your name.

There is slight disappointment in the two men’s faces, but that’s their issue. “All right,” Chan agrees, running a hand through his darkly wet hair and you are mesmerised by the way the muscles flex on his arms. “I’ll text you in a bit.” He smiles at you. “I really hope to see you there. It’s at the beach, but it does get cool at night, so make sure to bring a hoodie.” He pauses strategically. “Or you can always wear mine.”

You bite your lip to suppress a giddy grin, and his eyes follow the movement. There is an almost hungry quality in his gaze before it flickers back up to again. “See you later.” The confidence he lays into these three words is astounding but very attractive.

Hyunjin smiles sweetly at Hare, which she reciprocates, and then the two men make their way up the beach, in such a manner that the two of you can appreciate their backsides. When they turn around, you feel caught, and the slight blush on Hare’s face betrays the fact that she is experiencing the same emotion. As if in unspoken agreement, you both turn around and sink down in the sand, onto your respective towels that are already dirty anyway.

You are quiet for a moment. Then- “Well, damn,” Hare says.

“Damn,” you agree.

“He’s really hot.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“There’s one for each of us.”

“Yeah.”

Hare glances over at you. “How do you feel about a beach party on Christmas Day in Australia?”

You watch the setting sun glittering on the waves. How do you feel about this? On the one hand, many strangers in one place, mixed with alcohol, are never on top of your list when it comes to a desired evening programme. On the other hand, the party doesn’t have to be where they stay, does it? And Chan, Chris… He is really something. If he were lavender lemonade, you’d sip him. Hehe. Also, as a pilot, Hare has to stay sober, so there will be at least one reasonable person around – or, knowing your besty, at least a sober one.

“I think,” you say slowly. “Theoretically, if we didn’t like it, we could go home at any time. And we can share our location in case we lose each other.”

A slow smile spreads across Hare’s face, reminding you of a cartoon cat who has spotted an especially delicious baby bird. “All right,” your besty agrees. “Let’s party tonight.”

…

Chan texts the details within ten minutes of meeting you and you try not to let it get to your head. Hare and you enjoy an outstanding dinner on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, a Christmas present from the airline, and don’t let the prospect of two hot Korean men on a beach force you to hurry through the five delicious courses. Afterwards, you throw on bikinis, shorts, cute tops and pack long-sleeved items as well, just to be on the safe side. With on-fleek eyeliner and beautiful lipstick, you must surely be the hottest besty duo that has ever walked the hallways of this grand hotel, or so you think on their way downstairs to catch your Uber.

The party location seems to be a dive bar, and as you approach the hut, you are relieved to see that while there is a crowd gathered, it is not overwhelming. The last rays of sunlight are winking over the horizon as the two of you enter the bar.

The interior design is a little bit clichéd in its maritime theme, but since this is your first authentic dive bar experience, you don’t mind. You glance at the nets, the taxidermied swordfish, the life belts, take in the Jack Johnson song playing, and decide you like it. The bar is situated in the middle of the wooden building, an “o” marking the centre of the spot. And right there, behind the counter, drawing a beer, is-

“Is that Chan?” Hare asks the exact moment you realise that your crush is actually working here. Your gaze falls onto Hyunjin next to him, wiping glasses, and the women waiting to catch their attention in front of the bar. “Well,” you conclude. “It seems we’re here for the most popular boys. Damn.”

Hare grabs your hand. “That won’t stop us,” she disagrees. “After all, we are the hottest here.”

She pulls you towards the bar, and it is almost eerie how fast Chan’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. His slowly crinkle as he begins to smile. “You came!” he calls over the music and the waiting people, and some of them actually make space for Hare and you. “We came,” you confirm, propping your elbows up on the bar. “And you came to work, by the looks of it?”

Chan seems sheepish for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “We are only doing the first shift,” he explains, “and then we’ll be all yours.” He gestures around the room. “You can check out the place or the beach if you’d like. Or hang out with us back here?” He has one hand on the door that swings inward and allows for entrance into the centre of the bar.

Hare glances at Hyunjin. “If we hang out back here, will you make us a kickass alcohol-free cocktail?”

Hyunjin smiles – he really looks good in his loose Celine racerback; you have to admit that. “My pleasure,” he says in a voice that is deeper than you remember.

Hare turns to you. “Beach or bar?” she asks.

You barely hesitate. “Bar.”

…

If someone had asked you a few months ago if spending Christmas day behind a bar sounded like fun, you probably would have refused to even consider the possibility. But this – sitting on chairs with Hare, sipping the amazingly lavender-flavoured cocktail Hyunjin created for you, watching the men work, throwing dish towels or napkins at them in jest – this is a perfectly lovely evening. There isn’t much time to chat, but just by looking at them interact with each other, their customers and their work, you get a better idea of their characters.

Chan seems to be caring, friendly, supportive, flirty, Hyunjin appears to be sweet, sassy and a little on the dramatic side. Both of them react well to the sarcastic comments Hare sometimes throws their way, teasing her back and each other. It is obvious that they are firm friends and likely have been for a long time.

“Hey, Hyunjin, your mojito game is actually pretty weak,” Hare exclaims, hopping off her barstool and joining the taller Korean man at the bar, elbowing him gently. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Hyunjin’s gaze at her is challenging, but he hands her the bottle. “I am ready to be impressed.”

Someone snorts next to you, and you glance up to find Chan very close to you, also watching the two of them. “Hyunjin’s flirting technique need work,” he says, chuckling softly but not unkindly.

You arch an eyebrow at him. “And yours doesn’t?”

Chan turns to you, and with you propped up on your high bar chair, the two of you are eye to eye. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice suddenly just a tiny bit rough, his eyes intense. You feel yourself blushing but don’t look away. “I am,” you agree.

He shrugs. “Then I don’t think it does.” Chan winks at you and returns to the considerable queue in front of the bar, slapping Hyunjin on the shoulder in the process. “Stop flirting!” he barks, and from the way his friend blushes and Hare starts giggling, you can tell that you are not the only one behind this bar who is experiencing chemistry between herself and a man she met at the beach mere hours ago.

The first shift passes quickly, and as the bar fills up, you love seeing Chan get just a little bit hot, his dark t-shirt, tight to begin with, sticking to him in all the right places.

Finally, when a few of their friends come to take over, Chan throws the dish towel he has been holding down onto the bar and turns to you. “Finished!”, he exclaims happily, an almost childlike joy at having completed his task on his face. He extends his hand to you, offering you help in jumping off the chair. You take his hand, and it’s just a little rough. Does he surf? Play the guitar? You intend to find out. Relishing the moment, you wait just a tiny bit before jumping off, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re firmly on your feet, either. You look up at him and there is something in his eyes. A dare to let go? Dream on, pretty boy, you think. I dare if you dare.

Hyunjin hands Hare two glasses – two more of the delicious mocktails, you are happy to see – and grabs two bottles of beer. “Shall we?”

The four of you leave the bar area and then the building behind, and you are thankful to be holding Chan’s hand so as to not lose him in the throng of people that seems to have been growing steadily throughout the past hour. Soon, your sandals hit the sand. There are beanbags on the beach, and miraculously, not all of them are occupied yet, possibly because the night air is just a little bit chilly already. Now you have to let go of Chan’s hand and follow the impulse to run across the now cool sand and throw yourself into an extra-large beanbag, giggling happily. Chan is not far behind, though, approaching you at a languid pace, two drinks in his hands which he has seemingly picked up from Hare and Hyunjin, watching you with a smile. When he is finally standing over you, you glancing up at him, his bravado seems somewhat diminished. “May I join you?” he asks, and when you wiggle just a little bit to the side and pat the newly gained space next to you, his smile widens again. He lets himself sink down next to you and you are overwhelmed by how much you like the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat and ocean breeze. Delicious.

It takes some arranging, but the two of you are finally comfortable side by side, your drinks secured in the sand, Chan crossing his arms behind his head and gazing up into the night sky. You can hear Hare giggle behind you as, by the sound of it, Hyunjin falls off a beanbag.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you still decide to break it – after all, you want to get to know this delectable specimen better. “So, is this what Christmas usually looks like for you?” you ask.

Chan glances over at you and holds your gaze. Man, you really want to sink into those eyes. “The party’s a tradition,” he explains. “We always host it.”

“We?” You sit up a tiny bit, edging just a little bit closer, and from the way his body shifts towards you, you can feel that he welcomes the change. Your bare leg brushes against his and the skin-on-skin contact makes you antsy, but in a good way. This is exciting – the two of you both know where this will lead, but the timeline is yet unknown, ready to be discovered.

Chan nods. “The lifeguards. Hyunjin and I both work at this beach.”

You process the info quickly and file it away under the category “hot”. “That’s extremely cool,” is what you say, though. “Very responsible.”

The man seems to be blushing a bit and you love how his cool behaviour falls away when he’s being himself. It’s endearing. “I am a huge ocean enthusiast. I am actually currently writing my dissertation on various measures that could be taken to effectively clean the ocean, you know, to remove all of the microplastic. I’m trying to create a filter that can be produced cheaply and applied across all water temperatures.”

Your mouth actually hangs wide open at this. “So, you’re hot AND super smart?!” you blurt out. “That hardly seems fair!”

Chan smirks at this, but there is no denying that he is flattered and cajoled. “And you haven’t even seen me bench press yet,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I’d love to, though,” you say, more serious than you mean to be.

He grins widely. “Well, if you’ll have any more of those cocktails, maybe I’ll have to carry you back later.”

It’s a joke, you both know it, but you notice the exact moment where you both think about him picking you up and maybe pinning you up against a wall. The mood shifts for a moment, it feels less playful and more explicit. The silence is heavy, almost alive with an electric current.

Chan clears his throat. “You haven’t told me yet what a beautiful publicist from overseas is doing in Australia at Christmas.”

Thankful for the distraction, you tell him about the trip, about your job, and as you sip your respective drinks, you establish a shared love for TV shows, bubble tea, colourful hair, non-spicy foods. If this were a first date, it would be absolutely amazing, but sadly, this can’t be a first date, because in less than seventy-two hours, you will be on your way back, and you are severely jetlagged, having arrived only today, and this will merely be a three-day-thing, if at all. You try not to be sad about this, but it’s hard.

Chan seems to sense your distress. “Is everything all right?” he queries, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile. “Yeah. I was just thinking that I’d love to not leave in three days.” This feels like way too big a confession for this casual hook-up, but somehow, simultaneously, it also feels just right.

He seems to contemplate this, then takes your hand. “Want me to show you my lifeguard hut? You can see pretty far from up there.” It’s a distraction, but it’s working, so you nod and smile at him. Chan pulls you to your feet and just as you turn to tell Hare where you're intending to go, you can see her sitting in Hyunjin’s lap, making out with him. Shrugging, you turn back to Chan – after all, you can both access each other’s locations on your phones and Hare knows how to handle a dude. “You know,” you say boldly, “This could be us.”

Chan pulls you after him, towards the lifeguard station. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says with casualness that makes you shiver in anticipation, “it will be.”

…

Chan’s workspace is actually more elaborate than you anticipated. It’s a little hut on a raised platform so he can seek shelter from the sun while watching the ocean. The bottom of the steps is sealed for the night with a chain-link fence so unauthorized or drunk people won’t be tempted to climb up, but Chan produces a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks it so you can access the platform. You go first, but he keeps his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and you have to admit you like it.

Upon arriving at the top, you are greeted by a few solar lanterns glowing in the dark, illuminating your surroundings. You are maybe four metres up above the ground, but everything – the party goers down the beach, the music, the noise – seems miles away. The only thing you can feel is the wind and Chan’s warm hand against your side, and then there is the glorious sound of the sea. The lanterns also reveal that the chair Chan must usually spend his days in is folded up against the railing, replaced by a picknick blanket and a few throw-pillows. You turn to meet his eyes, into this half-embrace he has going on, and his hand finds your lower back again, pressing you softly to his firm chest. “Did you prepare this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Chan does have the decency to blush. “I was hoping our night would go this way, I must admit.”

Briefly, the thought that Chan must do this all the time, that this must be his move, makes an appearance, but you actually don’t really care to slut-shame the man. Good for him, he is hot and sweet AND smart, you hope that he has lots of amazing sex, but tonight, preferably with you.

You take it all in – the waves crashing against the sand, the darkness softened by the glow of the lanterns, Chan’s huge hand splayed across your lower back, his scent, his face just inches from yours. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

Chan briefly closes his eyes before opening them. There is a tiny smile on his lips. “Please,” he whispers. And so, you slowly, anticipation rising in your gut, close the distance and softly place your lips against his. Your first thought is how soft they are as you slowly move, placing your hands against his chest, then sliding them upwards, holding his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Chan tastes of beer and chewing gum, but you don’t mind, you don’t have the capacity to think as his tongue touches yours and suddenly, this isn’t slow anymore, this is heat and lust and want and need. Chan’s hands are still at your lower waist, but from the way he is pressing you against him, you can tell that he wants to touch you, he is just too chivalrous to give in to his passion. You grab hold of one of his hands and place it very deliberately against your bum cheek as you pull his lower lip between your teeth and bite. Chan groans into your mouth, his left hand joining his right on your ass, and then he is lifting you up, pressing you against the railing, thoroughly devouring your mouth all the while.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and one of his hands slides down to touch your bare thigh while he breaks the kiss, pressing his lips to your throat, nibbling, licking, sucking. A moan escapes you, and you can feel him hardening in his pants. Without waiting for him to do it, you pull your shirt off so you’re just in your bikini top, and Chan immediately shifts your weight onto the railing and his left arm so he can slide his hand under the fabric and play with your nipples. At the first slight touch, you are already whining, arching into the touch, and Chan’s chuckle is half mean, half adoring as he watches you respond to him. With your bikini top askew, you feel that the clothing ratio between the two of you is a little unfair, so you pull at his shirt, and he actually stops teasing you for long enough so you can get it off of him. Unfortunately, you don’t have long to admire his physique, because as soon as the offending garment is discarded onto the floor, Chan leans forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips, and your moan is much throatier this time, needier, and you can feel Chan shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he breathes against your chest, making you shudder as the air hits your wet nipple.

“I want you, too,” you admit, stroking your hand across his pecs and earning another groan. “Can you take me like this? Up against the railing?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. “You want me to rail you against the railing?”

You groan at the dad joke, but, for once, not in pleasure. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And speaking of right into…” He slides one hand into your shorts, going straight for your pussy and parting your lower lips with his forefinger so that any protest you had against his stupid pun dies on your lips. “Fuck, you are so wet,” he sighs. “I’d love to stretch you out with my cock.”

You cock your head to the side. “So why don’t you, then?”

At that dare, Chan crashes his lips to yours and your tongues dance wildly together as he slowly strokes your clit with his fingers, making you gasp into the kiss, before abruptly breaking away. “Fuck, let me just grab a condom real quick,” he says as he puts you down gently, placing an almost sweet kiss against your lips before approaching a bag that you didn’t notice earlier. You quickly discard your shorts and bikini bottoms; now only in your bikini top, you lean against the railing and watch the shoulders in Chan’s back work deliciously as he bends over, searches his bag and finally grabs a foil package before slipping it into the pockets of his shorts. Then he joins you again, scooping you up in his strong arms. You seize the opportunity to hold onto them and stroke them as he lifts you again and captures your lips in another scorching kiss. Your wet core presses against his naked lower abs, and Chan moans at the feeling. He lowers you just a little bit, grinding his still-clothed cock against your aching pussy as he presses kisses to your throat, your cleavage, any spot of bare skin he can reach.

“Please, Chan!” You might be begging at this point, but who cares, actually, he feels big and you want to see and especially feel if that’s the case. “I needed you inside of me like five minutes ago!” He stills, breathing heavily against your skin. “Fuck, okay,” he finally rasps after a moment of silence. “Hold on.”

You put your legs onto the railing, propping yourself up while Chan sheds his shorts and underwear, but not before grabbing the condom from his pocket. You watch as he tears open the package and rolls it over his indeed fairly large cock – it almost makes your mouth water and you promise yourself that before the night is over, it will literally make your mouth water.

Having finished his preparations, Chan steps back into the space between your legs, and you pull him closer. Your kiss is slower, more deliberate as he strokes his tongue against yours, tempting you, seducing you. And then his hard cock is pressed against you, and you shift, allowing him to press into you. Slowly, you feel yourself being filled, stretched by his girth, and you moan loudly as centimetre after centimetre disappears into your tight pussy. Unconsciously, you try to shift away from the intrusion, but Chan’s hands on your hips hold you steady, so you can do nothing but give in and take it. Chan’s tongue is back on your nipple, distracting you from the stretch by stimulating you sweetly, and the way he groans against your skin, muttering how amazing you feel, how tight your little pussy is, how good you are being for him, turns you on even further so that you use your heels to pull him closer, pull him in more quickly.

Finally, when he’s fully inside of you, he comes back up to kiss you, the movement causing him to shift inside you, making you both gasp. You are completely naked, completely out in the open, you realise, and still, this moment is intimate, like you are the only two people left in the world. It’s uncomfortable, rushed, risky – and somehow still perfect.

Chan is visibly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Can I move?” he asks, his voice hoarse against your neck as he kisses you softly, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

You cups his cheek so he’ll meet your eyes. When he does, you say, “Fuck me.”

His pupils dilate, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice before he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Before you can recover, he does it again, setting a relentless rhythm, and you are caged between his body and the railing, his thrusts an assault to your very being, but in the best way possible. His body is blazing in the cool night air, keeping you warm as he worships your body, stroking you, kissing you, licking you, fucking you. And even though your weight must take its toll on him, he doesn’t show it, doesn’t let up, pushing into you again and again, filling you, taking you. You are both trying to keep it down, so your heavy breathing can be covered by the sound of the waves, but you would not bet on it working.

He bites your shoulder, suppressing a groan. “I won’t last long, baby, you feel too good. But don’t worry, I’ll make you come as many times as you want tonight. I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you beg me to stop.” You moan, nodding, as he once again sucks a nipple into his mouth. “That’s fair,” you breathe, and Chan chuckles as he seems to again redouble his efforts, railing you against the railing as his breaths become groans rising in pitch until he bites down on your shoulder once more, stilling inside of you.

The two of you stay locked in your embrace for a moment longer, your breaths calming, before Chan tenderly kisses you as he pulls out. Scooping you up into his arms, he lays you down on the blanket and finally removes your bikini top. Drinking in your naked form in the better light provided by the lanterns, Chan strokes his hands up your sides. “There is just something about you that makes it utterly impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” he says almost wistfully, and then he is between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, nuzzling into them, licking his way up to where you need him. Finally, his tongue is on your clit, and he slides two fingers inside of you, and despite the fact that you are deliciously sore from the thorough way he has just fucked you, this is exactly what you need. His tongue writes letters against your clit, every movement unexpected and all the more exciting for it, and the steady rhythm of him finger-fucking you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. God, he looks so good on his knees for you. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, and the way he groans into your pussy makes you bite back a moan as well, biting your hand to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Your orgasm crashes over you like the waves below you, unrelenting and unavoidable, and you remove your hand, letting Chan hear your high-pitched moans.

Chan stills his hand to feel the contractions around his fingers, but continues to kitten-lick your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you still, shaking from the stimulation. Only then does he press a handful of kisses to your lower belly and move to join you on the blanket properly, propped up on his side on one elbow, pulling you close and pecking your cheek repeatedly until you turn to slowly, lazily, kiss him. His hand strokes your side again. “That was… Pretty fucking great,” he reminisces, and you can’t help but giggle at the verdict.

“It was,” you agree, dragging your nails up Chan’s veiny forearm, making him shiver. For a moment, the sound of the waves is the only thing you hear. “And you’re here for three more days?” Chan asks, a serious note in his playful tone.

You continue to feel his muscular arms as you nod. “That’s right. Why?”

Chan shrugs – awkwardly, given his current position. “Oh, nothing,” he dismisses the question. “I was just contemplating how often I can fuck you in three days.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “I’d wager that a low to medium double-digit number could be achieved, don’t you agree?”

Chan’s face mirrors your expression. “Do you want to make a bet?” You shrug. “I’d rather suck your cock.” His expression is a mixture of shyness and surprise before it takes on a devilish note. “Well, in that case,” he says, his hand sliding to cup your arse, "be my guest."

[pastelloner]

Interesting things about Bloom

Hello, today’s post is on Bloom, fairy of the dragon’s flame! Most people in the Winx fandom have some or the other opinion on her. Personally, I love her from the original show (seasons 1 to 3) or even in season 4. People complain about how she became a Mary Sue in the later seasons produced by Nickelodeon. Today, I wish to discuss 3 interesting things about Bloom.

Why does Bloom wear blue?

Some people opine that she should wear reds and oranges because she’s a fire fairy. Here are my reasons why blue is the perfect choice for her colour palette and why she should avoid reds and oranges as much as possible –

She’s a redhead – giving her red/orange colours would overwhelm her design because her hair is already reddish orange. The creators made use of colour theory and the blue on the opposite side of the spectrum perfectly balances out her red hair, and saves her from a design mess.

Her eye colour – the show literally starts with Bloom opening her eye, lol. Her eyes are blue in colour and I think giving her blue clothes compliments her eyes really well. They suit her.

Temperature of the flame – though she’s not a typical fire fairy, the blue colour can be a great choice for one with fire powers. As the temperature of a flame increases, the wavelength of the light emitted decreases. In other words, a blue flame is actually at a much higher temperature than a red/orange/yellow flame, and is a lot more dangerous. So, if you want to make her outfit colour relate to her powers, you can use this logic. For your information, her magic is red/orange in colour.

Why is she associated with heart imagery?

Some people think she should be given a flame symbol instead of a “heart” because she’s a fire fairy. They think the heart shapes are too cute for her. But she has heart symbols on her outfits, her wings, her bedroom, her fairy dust bottle, and her Mythix wand. Here are my reasons why the heart symbol is the best for her –

She’s a Dragon’s Flame fairy – she’s not a fire fairy, so a flame symbol is kind of meaningless for her. Faragonda mentions how her powers are associated with the flame of life. It’s the magic flame that birthed the magic universe. She has healing powers and her magic is soulful rather than just fire. Her very name, 'Bloom' referring to the 'blooming' of a flower, is symbolic of life energy and its renewal. Since the heart imagery does not just represent love, but also the soul, life, and healing, it makes sense to have her use this symbol to represent her power.

She was a cinnamon roll – original Bloom (s1-s3) was such a cutie pie that I honestly don’t mind the “cute” imagery created by the heart symbols.

She’s romantic – in case you are still obsessing over the love aspect, let me remind you that Bloom is one of the most romantic Winx girls, aside from Flora and Stella.

What are her coolest powers?

Apart from her healing powers (which are super cool), I personally like a certain ability of hers that was never used beyond once or twice and only in the first 2 seasons – the power to read minds and “see” people’s auras. I think it’s the coolest thing on the show and fits really well with her magic nature. Wish they did more of that and the healing stuff in the later seasons but it is what it is.

Thanks for reading this post. Bye :)

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Once upon a dream

The 1st place raffle prize for @violetregrets1837

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The blackness that swallowed your limbs gave way to a soft light. Your body was suspended in time, floating atop its waters.Your eyes opened and that soft light opened to a world. You were floating atop water, it lapped at your limbs as you floated. The current guided you to the nearest edge, and you sat upon the lip of the pool. It looked much similar to a blossoming flower, lush pink petals folding out from the bubbling water in the centre. Little balls of light danced in the air, each a different colour. You could hear them laughing among themselves, little wings fluttering about. The whole scene was nothing short of enchanting, soft piano and violin accompanying your amazement. The water began to bubble, and before you could fully skitter back, there was a woman. Her hair was long and fell in loose curls, her face was decorated with ornate makeup and gems, her clothes here finer than any human tailor could make. But perhaps most captivating of all -aside from the fact she was giant and just emerged from the water- were the wings that sprouted out from in front of her pointed ears.

“I see you are awake little one” Her voice was soft and warm, your nerves were put to rest “Your soul was embroidered with quite a bit of dark magic, but worry not, I fixed it” You stood slowly, unsure of what to do. She held out a large hand, asking for you to step on. You do so carefully, and she smiles kindly. “You are far from home little one” You sit down on the palm of her hand, and she brings you to eye level “I will allow you refuge if you can offer us anything” Your nerves set back in, all you could really do was sing, and your parents had already spent enough time explaining why it would never get you anywhere.

“I’m sorry ma’am, i’m afraid all I can do is sing” She laughs, it’s light and airy, her eyes lighting.

“That is just perfect my dear. Us faeries love music” She set you back down gently as a small light grew from your chest and enveloped your form. “Worry not, little one, I'm simply ensuring your safety while you stay with us. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of our enchantments”

And so bagan your new reality, sworn protection by the fae in return for your singing. The little fairies took some time to trust you, but soon you always had one on your shoulder or another asleep in your hair. You were safe here, free to roam the heart of the forest. You learned what to forage, what plants made good food and what flowers made for good tea. It was on one such trip foraging that you heard footsteps. He waded through the tall grasses and wove through the trees. You watched from the branches as he made his way through the forest, directly towards its heart. You’ll admit that something about him struck you, his careful steps avoiding the ruin of the forest, the hopeful gleam in his eyes as he wandered, you were captivated. But no person comes out this far, no people seek the help of great fairies anymore, not unless it’s to steal and bottle the young fairies. Your path back to the Great fairy and her fountain was quite simple now you had it memorised, but it would’ve been challenging for anyone who was unfamiliar. As soon as you stood on the lip of the fountain she appeared, examining your worried expression.

“What troubles you, my dear” She cupped both of her hands and let you crawl in.

“There’s a boy in the forest- he’s coming here” Your voice shook, and for the first time you’d been awake in this unfamiliar land, you felt scared. She smiled that knowing grin and pressed you to her cheek.

“He has no ill intent little one, there is no need for your worry.” She sets you back down and leans on the edge of the fountain with her forearms, most of her submerged in the water. “Now, how about a song? Those always calm you down, do they not?” Her suggestion was gentle, redirecting your worry towards something else. You hummed, trying to warm up your voice as you thought of a song. One sprang to mind, looking around at the magic that surrounded you.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream” You made sure to feel the slow sway and swell of the music as you remembered it. “I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam” The fairy in front of you smiled and closed her eyes as she enjoyed your singing more than you parents ever did. “And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do” The smaller fairies gathered to listen, some settling on your shoulders. “You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream” You finished there and the great fairy opened her eyes. She smiled, her eyes searching your face before glancing behind you.

“My, that was certainly a wonderful performance. Wouldn’t you agree?” Her eyes looked expectantly at the boy behind you, the same from before. He stared at you as if he were enchanted by your voice, large eyes staring at you in awe. When he noticed you staring back, his eyes widened.

“Beautiful” He managed to stammer out.

“Thank you” You smiled, knowing that the great fairy was right, he was harmless.

Hyrule was nothing short of bewitched. Your voice held no magic and yet it wrapped around his mind for the days to follow. Your face, lit with the soft glow of the fairies resting on your shoulders was finer than that of any statue or painting. He thought he was lying when his sisters back home told him that he would find someone who would complete him, filling in the cracks of his soul. And yet standing there, hearing you sing, seeing your smile, that’s the most complete he’s ever been in his whole life. The magic in his blood yearned for your voice, for your touch, for you. The great fairy before him raised him much like a son, and judging by the knowing smile on her face, she knew.

[blondewhoresworld]

silent night !

saltburn fanfic

!femreader x !felixcatton

tw: talks of hookup, hugs, alcohol use

you had never liked christmas. it was something about america. made it hard to love. the ugly decorated trees, smell of plastic and tinsel. it was always too hot for it to feel jolly. plus it was just another excuse for your family to force ugly sweaters over your head.

that had been your opinion on christmas. hated it, a grinch even. but coming to england, oxford to be exact, had slowly started to warm you. something about the freezing cold cobbled streets, hot chocolate stands, woolly hats, watching how your own breath pooled out in waves of humidity.

you would never admit it but maybe it was starting to grow on you. plus with every coming christmas came a cheesy christmas party. your college was known for them. it’s where you had met felix.

he was dressed in a way too tight, way too small santa outfit. the top undone to show off his lazy but lean chest. you had watched him all night from across the room. desperately trying to get a peek of the tattoo that would flash itself every so often.

felix had approached you first, beaming, cheeks flushed with the strong liquor. he was a towering figure. made even the tallest person look insignificant.

“you alright?” he had said, double fisted with two bottles of smirnoff mixes in his hands.

“yeah… fine.” you replied, you always loved a college party, had dressed on theme. little elf outfit, your cheeks painted pink.

“dance?” it was easy for him, one word and it was the next day and you had woken up in his twin bed.

that’s where you were now, the following year. thin cigarette in hand as you sit with your back against the cool stone wall.

“what do you mean you hate christmas?” he had his face scrunched up, trying to unscrew his eyebrow piercing. he was heading home for christmas and had already lectured you on his mothers clean cut household rules.

“it’s shitty, just an excuse for people to get drunk and put up ugly decorations.” you shrugged, taking a long drag of your cigarette and trying not to laugh at him.

“that’s the best part.” felix argued, still fiddling with the tiny metal ball. “trust me y/n you have never had a good english christmas.”

he said it with such confidence and certainty that you burst out laughing, it caused him to jolt and loose hand on his piercing. he swore under his breath and shook his head, that same crooked smile on his lips.

“don’t laugh.” he said, rolling his eyes. “if you saw my house all lit up you would change your mind. mum throws a wicked christmas eve party.”

he paused and looked at you. “where are you this year? the states?”

she shook her head. “nah, i was gonna stay here or go to my meemaw’s down in kent.”

“sick!” felix exclaimed, that posh accent still brought a smile to your lips. “you can come, i’ll get a car and everything. it will be totally chill vibes.”

it was everything but chill vibes.

you arrived late on purpose, your black cab dropping you just outside the gates.

felix wasn’t wrong so far, you had been to his house before in the summer. but now it looked stunning.

every inch was covered in warm fairy lights, fountains had frozen over, the gates had little merry christmas signs dotted all over them.

huge wreaths decorated with holly and dried out oranges were on every door and as the gates opened you could hear the music already playing.

a butler dressed in a black suit and a christmas themed tie took your things and led you into the entrance hall. that was almost showstopping.

two huge trees lay at the end of each room, both had been so carefully decorated and curated it felt scary to be so close. warm colours, red, orange, yellows covered each branch. and when you looked closer you noticed that each catton had their own personalised bauble. it was so perfect. so warm. the house itself was warm.

a table lie in the middle of the room, sat on a red intricate antique rug. it had a little miniature village on top that was playing out christmas scenes. it was genuinely like spending christmas with the windsor’s.

“y/n mate!” it was felix, he came bombarding into the room, sporting no shoes (or socks) and a large piece of tinsel wrapped around his neck. “you are so late!” he leant down and picked you up like it was nothing. it was a sweet embrace, something that made your cheeks burn.

he was clearly already tipsy but you couldn’t figure out what it was. “come, come.” he led you through the rest of the house and into the ballroom.

he had your hand tugging you along as you attempted to steal glances of the rooms. his sister sat in one room, she had let the blonde fade out of her hair and it had returned to its natural brown.

she made the small room glow, sat watching the tv with a glass of red wine in her hands. the room was so stacked with fairy lights and sofas it was hard to see her at first. she didn’t see you.

the next thing you saw was the gardens. he led you through a corridor that had huge windows. you could see everything, the fog that lingered over the grounds, each tree had been dressed up in orange lights. usually saltburn was scary at night but this was almost breathtaking.

then you were finally in the ballroom.

now that was what christmas was.

a slow and jazzy version of silent night was playing lowly as earls and sirs and ladies and lords all talked it happy drunk voices.

about seven antique rugs had been placed over the floor and every stood in their socks or bare feet. candles sat on every surface and you really began to believe you were in a harry potter book.

you passed a huge nutcracker and almost fell. felix caught you by your arm and laughed, his cheeks red. you couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol or the warmth of the room.

“totally chill, hm?” he said, handing you a glass of red wine. “maybe christmas is better in england?”

you didn’t reply, just sipped the drink and took in the smell of the happy guests and the sound of the music.

ps tysm @tinytennisskirt for inspiring me to write again <33

[wa-royal-tea]

Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

@thebrixtons​​

Author’s Note: The story Alfie is reading to the children is loosely inspired by the Malay Folklore; Legend of Puteri Gunung Ledang

Ginny (on the phone): Can we add fairy lights around the dance platform? Maybe some canopy curtains too?

Catalina: What colour do you want it to be in?

Ginny: Maybe white? Or do you have any other suggestions?

Indirah: I think white is good. Maybe we can hang the fairy lights on the curtains too.

Ginny: Ooh~ Good idea!

Catalina: Alright, do you have any other decorations you want to add?

Ginny: Well, I do have something in mind…

*knock knock*

Rainier (from outside the room): Ginny? Are you in there?

Ginny: Yeah! Don’t come in!

Rainier: Why? What are you doing in there?

Ginny: I’m working on my dress. You can’t see it yet!

Rainier: *chuckles* Okay~ I made strawberry cheesecake for tea time. Come and eat with me when you’re done~

Ginny: Alright. Give me a minute!

Ginny *thinking*: Hmm the wedding dress is almost done. All that is left are the bridesmaid's dresses.

*phone rings*

Alfie: Don’t pick it up.

Catalina: *breathless* It’s Ginny’s ringtone. I think she wants to talk about the wedding preparation.

Alfie: Urgh, cockblocker.

Catalina: *giggles*

Catalina: Hey, Ginny. What’s up?

Catalina: Mhm, I see…

Catalina: Oh, I think I already— *gasps*

Catalina: Wh-what are you doing?

Alfie: Don’t mind me. Continue the call.

Catalina: Alfie— Sorry, Ginny. Can you repeat that?

Catalina: *voice shaking* Y-yeah. I think red is nice.

Catalina: *gasps* I-I’m fine. I…I accidentally dropped something.

Catalina: *breathless* It’s getting late here. C-can we continue the call tomorrow? Yeah, okay bye.

Alfie: *playfully* Done already? I was just getting started.

Catalina: You are in a big trouble, Mr. Frederick.

Alfie: Ooh~ I’m so scared.

Catalina: You’re not sleeping tonight until I’m done with you.

Alfie: Is that a threat, Mrs. Frederick?

Catalina: *scoffs* It’s a promise.

Indirah: Wow, you ordered more than usual. Are you getting the cinnamon roll for Alfie?

Catalina: Huh? This? Nope. They’re mine!

Indirah: Whoa, you must be very hungry. I thought you hate those?

Catalina: I just want to give it a try. They’re not too bad!

Indirah: *chuckles* I’m glad you’re enjoying them then.

[Scene transitions to Lina and Alfie going on an engagement, maybe cutting ribbons for the opening of the children’s library? Alfie reads a book for the children.]

Alfie:…the King fell in love with the Princess after seeing her beauty and asks for her hand in marriage. But the Princess has set several conditions for him before she can agree to his proposal.

Ali: What are the conditions?

Hanna: Yeah! Tell us, Mr. Prince!

Alfie: The Princess’ conditions are; the King must build a golden palace for her to live in and a golden bridge all the way from Mount Belcoast to Mount Silvie for her to walk to and from. She then would also want seven barrels of tears from a young maiden for her to bathe in. And a bowl of the blood of the King’s young heir.

Hope: Whoa! That sounds crazy impossible!

Ali: Right? Why would she give him all that conditions?

Catalina: Well, that’s actually her way of subtly telling him that she doesn’t want to marry him.

Alfie: Exactly. And in the end, the King got the hint and returned to his Kingdom. He’d rather not sacrifice his child just to marry someone.

Hanna: Wah~ The King is a good dad! Just like my appa!

Hope: Tell us more stories, please!

Catalina: You’re going to be a great dad one day, Alfie.

Alfie: Why’d you say that?

Catalina: You’re good with kids. And I know you’re going to be great to our kids.

Catalina: It’s just like a dream I had. You and the children, asleep on the bed after you read them bedtime stories.

Catalina: Just remembering that dream again makes me so happy.

Ginny: *content sigh* This feels like a dream. Everything feels so perfect.

Rainier: Well, if it is. I don’t want to wake up.

Ginny: I can’t wait for our wedding. It’s going to be perfect.

Rainier: I know. I can’t wait too. We’ve waited so long for this.

Ginny: You make me so happy. I don’t deserve you.

Rainier: You do. You deserve everything good in this world.

Rainier: And I’ll continue to make you happy. Until we’re old and grey.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Cut Above The Rest

Mechanic!Eddie x Hairdresser!Fem!Reader

Of All The Gin Joints In All The Towns (Part 3)

Summary:It's a Friday night and instead of being sad moping over your ex, your friend decides that you need a night out of drinking and good company

Word Count:1, 896

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Masterlist Series Masterlist

The floor of The Hideout is just as sticky underfoot as you remember it ten years ago. Back when you were trying to sneak in with Robin, cautiously showing your fake IDs to the bar staff in the hopes of sharing a few beers with a friend.

The place is dimly lit, save for a few colourful twinkling fairy lights and bright neon signs that brighten up the otherwise dingy bar.

There’s the faint sound of a live band playing some blues-y folk-country music, that gets overshadowed by the chatter of the bar's regulars, and the sound of balls knocking against one another on the green of the pool table.

"Didn't you say something about a live band?" You ask Robin as you take a sip from your bottle, pointing towards the band already on stage. 

"Oh that's just the warm up act. The real band will be on in a minute"

It's not that the music that they were playing was bad, but judging by the way the patrons largely ignored them, you'd guess that they weren't really warming up the crowd as much as they had hoped. Your only hope is that the next band to go on would be more engaging.

The warm up act graciously say their thank you's to the less-than enthusiastic audience and start to leave the stage.

"Here they come! Corroded Coffin always put on a show" Robin declares as she nudges her elbow into your side.

Corroded Coffin? Why did that sound so familiar?

You watch as the group file onto the stage, the drummer sitting behind the drum kit, and all three of the guitarists, one bassist and two electric guitars, each hoisting their instrument's strap over their head.

In the sparkling glow of the strung up fairy lights the band's lead guitarist's features are illuminated. 

Waves of long dark curls fall around his shoulders, as he looks down to connect his amplifier's cord to his guitar.

The overhead spotlight hits him, and he looks up and out to his crowd

And..hang on a moment…That's Eddie! 

It was all flooding back to you now! Memories of him and the rest of the band at the middle school's talent show! Performing a very solid version of Paranoid that only served to further your crush on the boy.

"You didn't tell me Eddie was playing tonight!" You whisper-shout to Robin.

Robin only smiles at you, as if this was her plan all along. 

“shh..They’re starting. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” Robin shushed you as the band begins to play the opening notes of Ride The Lightning. 

You watch as his fingers dance up and down the neck of his red and black guitar, whilst his other hand is skillfully plucking and strumming the strings to perfection. He almost looks lost in the music, so completely in his element performing up on stage.

The song finishes and Eddie leans close to the microphone, his voice is raspy from singing. 

“I hope everyone’s having a rockin’ Friday night!” a few cheers, and two very distinct ‘whoops’  from you and Robin sound out in the audience. “We're Corroded Coffin, and this is a little song called ‘Master of Puppets’”

There’s a 4 count beat from the drummer before Eddie and the other guitarist launch into the song’s very familiar intro. 

The rest of the band's performance is electric. The beat of the drum thrums in your chest, the sting of the guitar's strings resonate in your heart. You try your best not to focus too much on Eddie up on the stage, his loose-fitting tank top hangs on his lean frame, showcasing the array of crawling tattoos up his defined muscles, but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to him every single time.

His long, frizzy, dark hair falls down around his shoulders as he leans into the microphone once more. His dark brown eyes sparkle under the lights and as he looks out to the small crowd he spots you. His eyes meeting yours as his raspy voice sings out the last note of the final song in their set-list .

“Thanks for being such a great audience, enjoy the rest of your night, and don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do” he teases with a wink and a cheeky smile, before making his way off the stage.

Robin leans over to you, letting you know she's off to the bar to get another drink.

"You want another one?" She offers.

"No, I'm good, thanks." You smile back at her, watching as she goes over to the bar.

You sit with yourself for a moment before you hear a voice come from over your shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, or people are gonna start talking about us.” 

You follow the voice to see Eddie once more. Fresh off the stage after his performance. His long hair is now tied up in a little bun at the nape of his neck, although a few loose curls manage to fall free, falling down around his face.  

“This seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the empty seat beside you.

You look over Eddie’s shoulder to see Robin laughing, joking and leaning into the touch of a freckled red-head girl. You smile, glad that she’s finally moving on from her unrequited crush on Tammy Thompson. You figure she’s not going to need her seat for a while by the looks of things.

“Sure, go ahead. ” you nod.

He sits down in the chair next to yours and sitting as close to him as you are right now, you can see how his big brown eyes are lined with a smudge of black eyeliner. 

“I loved your set, by the way, the whole band sounded amazing!”

“Aw, thanks! That’s very kind of you to say.” he smiles, and you can swear that there is a faint dusting of a pink blush rising to his cheeks.

“You were like a total rockstar up there!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, I mean we really only ever play to small crowds in here anyway.” he chuckles.

“You’ve gotta start somewhere, right? You never know! One day you could be playing here and some big, important talent scout might wanna sign you!” 

“Well that would be something, wouldn’t it?” he smiles with a laugh.

“Then when you’re a world-famous rockstar, I’ll be telling people about how I was there at the beginning, when they were playing small gigs in The Hideout!”

Eddie finds himself smiling at your excitable nature, and the way you laugh with a slight scrunch of your nose is down-right fucking adorable. His uncle Wayne was right, as usual, he did have a crush on you. Eddie was well and truly screwed. 

Suddenly an idea struck him, it might be a long-shot, but it might just work.

“Hey this might seem, like, really forward, but can I give you my number? We’ve bumped into each other enough times by now anyway.” He says, trying his best to hide the slight nervous stutter in his voice.

“Sure!” you smile as you reach into your bag for your phone. “You can give me your number, and then I can text you so you have my number too! You know, just in case something else goes wrong with my car." You laugh. The conversation between you flows so easily that part of you wonders if he wouldn't mind if you called him as more than a desperate plea for help to fix your car. Talking with Eddie felt like the most easy and natural thing in the world. Even in the few moments you'd spoken to him he'd put you at ease in a way that Jacob never did throughout the entire time you were with him.

He gives you his number and you tap it into your phone.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, hopefully I'll see you around. Enjoy the rest of your evening." With that he bids you goodbye with a two fingered salute as he walks off.

Robin and you stumble back into the apartment in a fit of hushed giggles as you clinged to one another, the effect of the alcohol hitting you both all too quickly.

You both slump down next to each other on the couch for a moment.

"You looked real cozy with that red-head at the bar? You finally getting over Tammy once and for all?" You ask, leaning your head into her shoulder.

“Who? Vickie?” she asks, a faint blush dusting across her freckled cheeks.

“Oh on a first name basis with her already are we? 

“Well we were only talking for a little while.”

“I thought you lesbians moved fast in relationships” you joked with her.

“First of all, that is a stereotype, but yeah I kinda maybe do like her a little bit.” she admits, with the flush on her face deepening by the second. “Anyway, enough about my love-life! What about you, huh?”

“What about me?” you parrot back to her, not following what she was getting at.

“Don’t play all innocent with me, I saw you! You also looked ‘real cozy’ hanging out with Eddie! So what’s the deal there?”

“There is no deal, we just got to chatting about his music, that’s all..” you trail off, not daring to mention to Robin that you had swapped numbers with him.

She raised her eyebrows at you, almost as if she didn’t believe a word of what you were saying. 

“I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Under her suspicious gaze you squirm in your seat. Damnit Robin. Why did she have to be so good at sniffing out the truth? 

“..And we maybe exchanged numbers..” you mumble out quickly out of embarrassment of having your little secret pulled out of you by your best friend.

“What on earth are we doing just sitting here! Go get your phone right now!” Robin screeches, jumping up excitedly.

“No, no, it’s late and he’s probably tired. I don’t want to bother him”

"Well maybe you're not bothering him…"

You turn around to see Robin holding your phone in her hands as her fingers work quickly to send a text.

You try to jump up and stop her, but Robin holds your phone just out of your reach.

"..Aaaand send." Robin smirks proudly.

"Oh my god, Robin! What did you do?" You panic, your mind racing at a hundred miles an hour.

"Relax.." She assures you. "I just sent him a friendly little message. I figured since you were too much of a chicken-shit to do anything about your crush, I'd just give you the little push that you so clearly needed" 

She hands over your phone and sure enough there the text, as plain as anything proudly displayed on the screen of your phone.

"It was nice seeing you again, I had a great time chatting with you, perhaps we could meet up again sometime? -y/n "

It doesn't take long before your phone buzzes back to life once more, notifying you of a new, unread message.

"I had a great time talking to you too, I'd love to see you again! How does Sunday sound? Hopefully this doesn’t sound too forward, but there’s an fall festival going on over the weekend, perhaps we could go together?”

@sunflowerdaydreamer @xxhellfiregirlxx @penguinsandpotterheads @munsonology @seatnights @avalon-wolf @jesssssmaybankk

[cyraspirit]

Fanfic of our favourite dead boy detectives! Enjoy!

Dead Boy Lovers

“Nikko! What is the meaning of this?” Edwin spluttered.

Nikko’s eyes sparkled with hardly repressed glee. Remnants of the dandelion sprites still lingered (though it could’ve just been Nikko being an icon).

“I know the whole thing with Jenny and Maxine didn’t go to plan,” she winced at the memory and Edwin found himself going to comfort her, “but, we know that you-know-who isn’t a psychopath!” She looked to the ceiling as she said “you-know-who”.

Edwin followed Nikko’s eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling. He felt like he could see him, see his one earring caressing his ear. Oh how Edwin wished he could be that close to him all the time.

“You were thinking about him,” Nikko smiled, bringing Edwin out of his daydream.

“No, no I was not,” he replied, not looking at her, “I was not thinking about Charles.” He stopped, closing his eyes at his careless mistake.

“I never said Charles,” Nikko grinned, her eyes alight with the romance she read in her manga.

“Well,” Edwin fumbled, “who else, I mean, it’s not like there could be anyone else?”

“Except Monty and the Cat King?” Nikko asked genially.

“Well, yes, I suppose.”

“Edwin, mate!” came a familiar voice. Edwin found himself melting into the voice as though it was music, the music of his heart.

“Your manga romance is about to happen!” Nikko whispered, clapping her hands together.

“Edwin, I need you…” Charles stopped as he entered the front room of Jenny’s shop.

“I made the decorations!” Nikko smiled.

“No kidding,” Charles grinned.

“I think you have done a splendid job Nikko,” Edwin said.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you two alone now.” Nikko left.

The room was bright pink with fairy lights draped over every surface. They were shaped as hearts and stars. The lights were a mixture of golds, pinks, yellows, pale oranges, bright purple and violet. Rose petals littered the the floor while mistletoe covered every inch of the ceiling.

“Is Nikko setting Jenny up again? Or is Monty back in human form?” Charles asked with a hint of jealousy.

“Umm,” Edwin looked at him- a big mistake. The brown eyes were becoming pools of desire and they reflected the multi-coloured lights, making Charles’ eyes even more mystical than he already was. The curled hair was fluffy and effortlessly perfect. Edwin felt himself reaching to touch it.

“Edwin? Mate? You good?” Charles asked, grinning.

“Umm, yes. I, well, there’s something I,” he stopped. This was hard.

“You can tell me anything,” Charles said, placing a tender hand on Edwin’s shoulder. Edwin leaned into the hand, revelling in its softness.

He looked at Charles. He closed his eyes. He leaned in.

Charles was upstairs with Crystal. They were talking about Nikko getting them out of going to the afterlife and Charles was laughing at Crystal’s blind stubbornness to go to hell.

“But,” Charles said, suddenly serious, “you should’ve seen Edwin. He was terrified. I have never wanted to avenge someone more than I want to avenge my best friend. He was there but shouldn’t have been,” Charles’ hands were clenching into fists.

Crystal put her hand over them. She looked up at Charles.

“Just, don’t go beating the night nurse into the stomach of a sea monster again,” Crystal said.

“Nah, I won’t. That wasn’t my finest moment,” Charles replied, looking down.

He heard Edwin’s stuttering from downstairs but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Charles grinned in spite of himself.

Crystal saw.

“Have you talked to him since your conversation on the stairs of hell?” she asked.

Charles fell back onto his bed, hands covering his face.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Crystal smirked.

“Look, it’d be brills if it worked. I’m sure it’d be incredible but I don’t want to fuck it up. He’s my best mate and I love him but…” he groaned.

Crystal sighed exasperatedly, “Look, you’ll never know unless you try. And, at least, there’s no fear of rejection.”

Charles sat up at that last bit.

“You’re right.”

He stood up and headed downstairs.

“Edwin, mate,” he called, “I need you…”

Immediately his eyes were met with an explosion of colour and mistletoe. Nikko stood in the centre, beside a blushing Edwin. As usual, Charles’s eyes were drawn to the socks pulled over Edwin’s trousers, perfectly sculpting his calfs. Charles thought about peeling away every piece of clothing except those socks.

“I made the decorations!” Nikko smiled.

“No kidding,” Charles grinned, pulling his eyes away from the legs of the ghost he loved.

“I think you have done a splendid job Nikko,” Edwin said.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you two alone now.” Nikko left.

Edwin’s hair was so perfect, untouched, like freshly fallen snow. It glistened in the rainbow lights, perfectly catching the lights at the perfect point creating the perfect mixture of colours. That summed up Edwin, perfectly.

Charles realised Edwin was staring at him, mistaking desire for discomfort.

“Is Nikko setting Jenny up again? Or is Monty back in human form?” Charles asked with a hint of jealousy.

“Umm,” Edwin stuttered.

He was so cute. He was so clever but so clueless. Then again, Charles hadn’t clocked Edwin’s feelings so maybe he was the clueless one.

He looked up, catching Edwin’s eyes. They were so soulful, so pained. He wanted to free him of that pain, wanted to make him realise he didn’t need to face the pain alone.

Charles realised Edwin was looking at him.

“Edwin? Mate? You good?” Charles asked, grinning.

“Umm, yes. I, well, there’s something I,” he stopped. This was hard.

“You can tell me anything,” Charles said, placing a tender hand on Edwin’s shoulder.

The small start of muscle sent tingles through Charles’ fingers. He put a bit more pressure on Edwin’s arm than necessary but his love didn’t seem to care.

Edwin was leaning in. He was closing his eyes.

Charles’ mind went blank but the good kind of blank where nothing else mattered.

Their lips touched. They melted into each other, Charles bringing his hands to Edwin’s cheeks. They were rosy and warm and soft as flowers. Charles caressed his face, wondering why he hadn’t been doing that all along.

Edwin was running his fingers through Charles’ hair. It curled around his fingers as if they too wanted Edwin. The mutual love was profound and unmatched.

Charles moved in closer, running his hand down Edwin’s back. The warmth matched the passion of the kiss.

They pulled apart after what seemed like hours of the best moments of either of their lives or deaths.

Edwin gazed into Charles’ dreamy eyes, finding himself lost in the trauma of his past. The haunted quality was both beautiful and sad.

He ran his hand down Charles’ lips, experiencing a tingling of suppressed love.

They were both gazing at each other and, in the background, music from an anime film could be heard.

[elvendria]

Clean

(re-releading this because it got hidden the first time)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part Four

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

Look, take willows age with a pinch of salt, I have numerical dyslexia but it'll make sense I swear

\\enemies - lovers//

There's some trigger warnings for stuff to do with willows birth, that's all I can say without giving away everything

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, the reader Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, the reader is 20 and Eddie is 21, Chrissy is the villain but we stan Grace. Reader has a small scar on her lower torso. underage drinking, allusions to smut, no details of smut for obvious reasons, eventual smut in upcoming chapters, brief mention of Y/N

WC : ~5511~

part one part two part three part four

It was coming up to the middle of August, which meant one important thing was due to happen. The pinnacle of the year, the most sensational holiday of all time, the biggest event to ever rock the town of Hawkins.

"It's my birthday it's my birthday it's my birthday!" The little rocket herself was zooming around the kitchenette, hair a whiz as you walked out, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You reached your hands out, holding her shoulders to keep her in place. 

You were seriously gonna need to encourage her to join track or cross country or something.

"Tomorrow it is, but today we need to get you some birthday clothes, so how about we go to that shop in town? The one where all the fairy tale people give their clothes?" It was a thrift store; you were almost certain Willow knew that, but you weren't about to crush the delusions of a soon to be 5 year old. Especially one that's starting kindergarten in a matter of weeks.

Oh god, she's starting kindergarten. In weeks.

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind, the last thing you needed was to be an emotional wreck in front of her. Joyce had helped you with documentation for enrolling her, but it had never really set in. And it wouldn't. Not today.

Her little eyes lit up as you said that, and her bouncing started up again, causing you to grin and roll your eyes. You loved this kid, and her ability to be excited about anything.

"Come on then munchkin, let's hit up the fairy tale store.''

When you reached the store, you hopped from the car and almost bounced up the sidewalk, a bundle of joy and giggles and sunshine. Willow was adamant about getting something pretty and sparkly for starting school, and once again your heart tugged in your ribs.

4 years ago, you were holding her in your arms, cradling her as she cooed up at you, flexing her fingers and scrunching her nose a little. She was perfect to you, you knew that the second you held her in the hospital, moments after her birth. 

And now, she was running off to get sparkly pink shoes to go with a tutu she wanted to wear on her first day. Something to match the fairy wings you already told her she couldn't wear. One of the many meltdowns you've managed to navigate in the past few weeks in the run-up.

Entering the store, you were hit with a new but familiar scent of clothes and dust, the room light and airy and full of clothing racks. Row by row of different colours hanging side by side. You wondered about them, oftentimes finding your imagination ran away from you.                         

You would hold up blouses, covered in dainty flowers, and imagine a woman wearing this to a job interview. You pictured her leading a room full of men, becoming so powerful that she no longer needed the shirt because she had a full wardrobe now. 

A pair of shoes, leather old and cracked. You pictured someone spending every day of their lives keeping them in pristine condition until they were too old to keep them clean.

Or a white linen dress, that reached your knees. The kind that flowed out and moved delicately. You could see yourself, walking the aisle of a small chapel to see a tall dark-haired man at the end of it, ring-clad and- 

No, no you couldn't go there, you couldn't imagine what your life might've been if Eddie hadn't fucked everything up.

You decided you'd get the dress anyway because it hugged your curves just right. Willow was having a small party, organised courteously by Wayne. He had become like an uncle to her, the way he had for you. You'd wear the dress there, just something simple and plain.

Browsing the racks, you found Willow holding a raglan t-shirt, with black sleeves and a white front. It had a design that wasn't her usual style, but she seemed... drawn to it like she'd seen it before.

"You like that shirt honey?'' The design was okay, and realistically she could wear it to school without scaring the other kids, it's not unlike something from a storybook.

"Well, if you like it, let's get it then!" You scooped her up in your arms, balancing her on your hip as you walked through the store, pointing out other items as you played your little game with her, before heading to the counter to pay. 

It wasn't expensive, one of the many joys of a thrift store, but when you saw the guy behind the till ring up the white dress you felt your chest lurch, like you wanted to pull it back. A voice in your head that forever lingered there whispered to you.

You're not good enough

It'll never look right on you 

You're too big to wear something like that

Your skin felt hot, you hadn't had those thoughts since a few months after Willow was born, and they hadn't led to the greatest of outcomes. But you were better now, you had to be, especially for her.

Paying, you pushed it all down, heading back to the car so you could get home and out of the blistering heat that seared through your shoes. The rubber soles felt like they were beginning to melt off, and you wanted to get back to the trailer so you could take a cool shower and a nap.

Okay, maybe the cold shower wasn't directly related to the heat.

It seemed that no matter where you went in Hawkins,  the air conditioning was always broken. Whether it was your car, your job, or your home, the heat followed you like a curse. Although having lived in Nevada for a few years, it was safe to say you were accustomed to it. 

What you weren't accustomed to was the lack of air. At least in the desert, there was a bit of a breeze, albeit it was usually coated in sand and grit. But here in Indiana, it was like the heat hung heavy in the air. It lingered in every breath, every movement. You could feel it like droplets clinging to your skin as you walked.

The whole aspect of hanging up laundry in the scorching sun was maybe not the best idea. The lifting and bending and stretching to hang up bedsheets and clothes were making you sweat like crazy, your shirt and jeans stuck to your skin. But you didn't care, all you wanted was for everything to be perfect for Willow's birthday.

You had just finished hanging up your bedsheets, stepping back to get something else from the basket on your hip when you looked down, two black combat boots sticking out from underneath them.

"Been wanting to see you tangled in your sheets for a while, didn't think I'd have to wait till laundry day though."

You hated that you could tell his voice anywhere, that you could tell it was him from his breathing, from the way he made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You hated that you never wanted that feeling to end.

"What do you want?" You were talking gruffly, arguing with a fitted sheet before just throwing it over the line, catching a glimpse of him as it flew up.

"I want to talk." He pushed past the sheets until he was standing in front of you, his dark brown eyes like small storms. 

You moved away from him, balancing the basket on your hip as you began putting up Willow's clothes, stained from an argument with a juice box that nobody won. "I don't know what you mean, there's nothing to talk about." Okay so you were being stubborn, but you couldn't help it.

"Oh really? So you dropping to your knees in my job to suck me off meant noth-" Your hand flew up, covering his mouth to prevent him from saying another word. If his eyes didn't give away his enjoyment at your reaction, the smile pressing into your palm sure did.

"That never happened, you hear me? It was a mistake." When you were sure he wouldn't talk again, you removed your hand from his mouth, only for him to grab your wrist and hold it near his face, breathing hot on your skin.

"So what was it then, a mistake or something that never happened? Because I've got the imagery ingrained into my mind pretty damn hard." His eyes bore into yours, and you despised how weak your knees got. He shouldn't have this effect on you, you promised yourself he wouldn't.

You tore your hand back, ignoring him as you continued to hang clothes up, your shirt riding up on the front. You hadn't noticed until he spoke, until he pointed out something.

"Where did you get that scar?"

Your breath stopped, your hands stilled, and your mind began to race for an answer. No one had ever spotted it before, you always kept it covered.

"It wasn't there before you left. Did... Did your dad do it to you?" 

If only he knew how wrong he was. 

Flashback to 4 years ago

"There's been a complication." 

On this day of all days, that was not what you wanted to hear.

"Is everything okay?" You grabbed for your mom's hand, fingers clasped and clammy.

"She's going to be fine, but we need to operate, her blood pressure is spiking and she's losing oxygen. If we leave it any longer we put her at risk of a heart or brain condition." The doctor spoke quickly, stepping back and in turn scaring you further.

All these words that you didn't want to hear.

After that, it was a blur, the sound of squeaky wheels and the bright lights causing you to remember very little else about that day.

Back to the current day. 

"Hello? You're just staring at me now and you look a bit nuts."

You were frozen solid until he said that, quickly rushing to pull your shirt down, covering your scar. You didn't show it, not for insecurity reasons, but purely because having to explain it was so much worse.

"I'm fine, I have to go." You hadn't finished with the clothes, but you needed to go, you needed out of here. "I need some air."

"We're outside." Eddie held your bicep, not gripping it tightly, but the touch alone was enough to stop you. "Please… talk to me." 

What could you do? What could you say? The man you've loved your whole life was standing before you, looking at you like you were a bird, ready to fly at a moment's notice. You felt like you could, like at the smallest breeze, the slightest movement, you would be gone, flying to brighter skies and away from this pain.

"What do you want from me? What more is there to say? Have you found a part of my dignity you haven't crushed yet?" Your words were venomous, uncontrolled and spiteful. Your mother would be proud.

He stood there like a deer in the headlights, looking at you with his lips slightly parted. You wished you never looked at them, wished you never fell into his sticky maple eyes and got stuck.

"Ever since I met you, I knew we were going to be good for each other. Wayne saw it too, even my Dad said it when he was in between highs. I never saw it… not until freshman year." He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly seeming nervous to speak.  

The air around you both grew tense and muggy to the point that you weren't sure if it was the conversation or the heat. 

"That's when I knew it. That's when I realised that…"

He lingered, his eyes downcast and refusing to meet your own.

"Realised what Eddie?" You were quieter than you were meant to be, softer and more gentle than you were mere moments before. You knew this wasn't going where you've always wanted it to because there's no way it could.

It was as if all the air had been pulled from the world. Your throat was dry, almost like you had crossed a thousand deserts with no water. "Eddie…"

"Yes?" His eyes were hopeful, maybe because you'd answered him, maybe simply because you said his name. Whatever it was, it made it so much harder to say what you were about to say.

To look at him was to see the embodiment of a breaking heart. A heart Eddie didn't even realise still beat. He had been mad at her for so long, that he figured his heart had become as calloused as his hands. 

For some reason, this made you mad. How could he look so… so… perfectly broken, when it was you who had endured the pain and suffering that he had dealt you?

"When you stopped the letters, when you sent them back unopened, I went through every fucking stage of grief there was. I accepted that you didn't care, and I got better Eddie. I got clean. You were the most addicting, fucked up thing in my life and I got better, I got clean from you." You were panting as you spoke, chest heaving as every word carried more and more weight, yet somehow relieving all of it from your shoulders.

"Christ I've loved you for as long as I can remember and you never cared because you're an entitled selfish asshole who only thinks about himself! Moving away was the best thing to happen to me because it opened my eyes and showed me that you were never going to love me back." You were sobbing now, cheeks red from your tears.

He didn't speak, he didn't say a word. He just started at you. You needed him to talk, to show you that he listened to you, that he understood how angry you were, but all he did was stare at you with a neutral look on his face. You wanted him to be mad, you wanted him to yell at you till you felt it in your lungs.

"Jesus Eddie, fucking shout at me, scream, saying something don't just stand there and look at me!" You shoved his chest, but he was like a solid wall, unmoving.

You thumped on his chest with your fists, looking, no, begging for some sort of reaction. You didn't even realise Eddie stepping towards you, hands clasped around your wrists to stop you from hitting him any harder. You didn't notice him almost pressed against you, not until he had cupped your face, thumb hesitantly tracing your bottom lip before speaking in a hushed whisper.

"You know… you're as beautiful as the day I thought I lost you forever." 

You barely had time to seek out his eyes with your own before he kissed you, soft and needy, unlike the first kiss between you when you came back. Unlike the kiss in the garage. No, this kiss was something else, it meant something else.

It was as if a windstorm had opened around you. A rush of adrenaline surged through your veins. Your hands instinctively weaved into his hair, pulling him closer as his palms rested on your skin, delicately placed between your shoulder blades and the small of your back.

It was the type of kiss you'd read about in stories or watch in movies. Where the protagonists' problems all vanish in an instant from the touch of two pairs of lips. You were oblivious to your surroundings.

Maybe you shouldn't have been.

Eddie pulled away for air, looking at you with a heaviness in his eyes. "You walked in one day wearing this yellow sundress, and all the guys were staring at you. I felt this intense rage like I wanted to make sure no one looked at you like that except me."

You were confused, and it must have shown on your face. His lips were slightly swollen, and you were guessing yours were the same.

“You asked me and I never answered you." Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, he looked at you with a fondness you've never seen from anyone before. "I realised that I just don’t think I can see myself with anyone other than you for the rest of my life.” 

You couldn’t explain the feeling that spread through you. You knew this shouldn’t happen, there were so many reasons you two couldn’t happen. You had worked so hard on yourself, convinced yourself that all your problems lay in the hands of a 16-year-old boy from a backwoods town in Indiana.

But now… now you weren’t so sure. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

“Eddie, I…” You were cut off by a voice calling out, a high-pitched noise calling out for him. You’d recognise that sickly sweet screech anywhere.

“Eddie baby? Where are you?!” Chrissy called out from the front of the trailer, unable to see the sight of you together from where she stood. 

“Eddie you have a girlfriend.” You placed your hands on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. There were so many things you had to tell him, so many things that needed to be said.

“Only if you’re saying yes.” His voice was quiet, making your heart thump as he leaned back down. You thought he might kiss you again, but instead, he leaned in, whispering in your ear. The feel of his breath on your skin made you shiver despite the heat outside. 

“And I’m hoping you will.” He pressed a final kiss to your cheek, leaving you unable to comprehend what just happened as he disappeared behind the clothesline once again.

You were so completely fucked.

Chrissy wasn’t stupid.

Well no, let me correct that, she wasn’t entirely stupid, despite her dumb cheerleader personality. 

She knew when she was losing, and ask anyone who’s ever been up against her and you’ll find out that Chrissy was a sore loser. 

Despite his efforts to hide it, Chrissy knew from the day the girls’ car broke down that Eddie was distracted. She’d always known he wasn’t interested in her for anything more than her flexibility and eagerness to have sex with him, but this was something different. 

She knew from the day in the garage that they were fucking, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know what a blowjob sounded like. She had been standing behind the wall for a minute or two before making her presence known, wanting to give the girl a chance to at least make herself look presentable.

Ever since that day Eddie hadn’t touched her, hadn’t even wanted her to touch him. She was losing him to some white trash lowlife and there was nothing she could do. 

Except for one thing.

Chrissy had a flair for ruining lives and getting her way. In a way, she was quite proud of what she could accomplish when she set her mind to it. And she was one hell of an actress too, given that she was able to convince Jason Carver that ‘no, he didn’t have a micropenis and yes, he was the best thing to happen to the Hawkins High Tigers.’

And so when she saw Eddie pull up outside and not immediately rush in to meet her, she ran to the window to see him going over to another trailer, her trailer, she felt her blood singe her veins. No one took her toys from her, no one stole what was rightfully hers. At least not until she was finished with it.

She walked out the door, intent on confronting them when she saw the kiss, the kind that she’d never gotten from Eddie or anyone for that matter.

And then she saw the kid's clothes, and her plan fell right into her lap.

Scurrying back into the trailer, she pretended to cry as she picked up the phone, finding the number in the phone book.

“Hello, hi, I hope I have the right number...”

The day of Willow's birthday was here, but you couldn’t sleep that night, your mind too active with thoughts of the previous afternoon. You didn’t know how someone could sleep when they had all this… emotion building up inside of them. You spent the night staring at your ceiling, and as a result, you were exhausted before the party even began.

Willow had donned her new t-shirt and a pair of black jeans you’d packed when you left. She looked adorable, even sporting a plastic princess crown you bought from the dollar store, waving the matching sceptre around like she was giving commands. Which she was.

“Look, Willa, I will get you a slice of birthday cake when the guests arrive, how does that sound?” You kneeled before her, hands on your thighs as she sat up in the soft brown lazy-boy armchair. She had been calling out for one all day and it was slowly turning your brain to mush.

She let out a little hum as if she was thinking it over, before answering with an enthusiastic “Okay!”, before going back to watching cartoons.

It wasn’t long afterwards that people started arriving. And by people I mean Eddie, Wayne and some of Eddie’s friends. Apparently, they were good with kids.

You remember some of them, particularly Steve Harrington, because who could forget the kid who came in freshman year of High School and immediately made the varsity basketball team? But the others you weren’t sure of. Yeah, you remembered faces, but names escaped you.

“Hiya, I’m Robin.” The girl came up to you, hand outstretched for you to shake. She had one of those friendly faces, an almost sunny disposition that radiated onto you. She was the only one you didn’t recognise, and you didn’t mind all that much.

Next was Steve and Nancy, your eyes going wide as they walked in and smiled at you, saying hi. You were almost certain they didn’t know who you were when you left, so seeing them in your dingy little trailer was quite a shock.

“I’ll be honest, never in my life did I expect to see the Steve Harrington standing in my doorway to come to a kids' birthday party.” You huffed a laugh, stepping aside to let them in. It was like a fever dream, watching the most popular guy in your sophomore year moving to sit on your couch, helping to blow up some balloons without ever being asked to. You remembered when he and Tommy H would give the nerds wedgies, Steve keeping lookout while Tommy stole someone's lunch money.

You also vividly remember Eddie breaking Tommys' nose when he tried to grope you at a school dance, but now probably wasn’t the time or place to bring it up.

A couple of kids showed up, early teens at best, all sitting on the floor. You knew some of them from being Will's friends and even babysat a few of them once or twice. Each of them came up to hug you, Will being last. His arms gripped you tight as if he was worried you’d disappear if he ever let go.

“It’s alright bud, I’m here, I’m not gonna leave again.” You squeezed him back, oblivious to the stare Eddie was giving you.

It was like your words were speaking to him directly. Like you were reassuring him that you were going to stick around. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty against his jean-clad thighs. He didn’t realise how worried he was about this whole situation until it was presented to his face. He’d lost you once, almost overnight. He’d been in this situation before, where you were just out of reach, slipping through his fingers.

He was determined that wouldn’t happen again.

You released Will, turning around and meeting Eddie’s eye. Normally he’d look away, maybe even make an awkward cough, but this time… this time he held your gaze, lips turned up ever so slightly in the corners. It made your insides flutter just seeing it.

“Okay, who wants cake?”

The party was going off without a hitch. Willow loved the tea party set you got her as well as the crayons and colouring book from Will. She’d even made sure to give everyone a cup before plonking herself down on the ground, waving her little wand ceremoniously to announce that they could start their tea.

But her favourite gift was one that made you tear up a little, only a small bit, but teary nonetheless.

“Hey Willa, I made you something, it's called a mixtape,” Eddie spoke gently, holding his hand out to help her up before lifting her onto his knee. It warmed your very soul to see them like this, even if the truth of it all lingered in the background. 

“What's that?”

“Well, it’s a bunch of songs that your sister and I used to listen to when we weren’t much older than you.” As he said that, he stared across at you, that same gentle smile returning. You remembered those days like they were yesterday, lying out on the dried patch of grass that passed as his lawn, listening to whatever tape you two could find. It was always a hit or miss, sometimes it would be some weird music you weren’t sure of, but other times… other times it was music that would seep into your bones, would melt over your skin like a fine film, coating you in a layer of bliss and peace despite the thumping bass and squealing guitars.

 You sat and watched her turn the gift over in her hands, watching as Eddie took her over to the stereo to show her how to use it. Soft notes filled the air first of all as Close to You by The Carpenters started playing. It wasn’t your usual style, but it was memorable for you. 

It was the song that played when you first realised how much you cared about Eddie. When you turned your head on that dry yellow grass, to see him staring right back at you.

You let time slip away, listening to the music as Willow came and grabbed your hand, wanting to do that dance where she just swung your arms back and forth. You were so involved with her that you hadn’t even heard the knock on the door until someone pointed it out to you.

That was when the dread kicked in.

You couldn’t explain it, you weren’t even sure why it had come over you suddenly, but with every step towards the door, your hands got clammier and clammier until eventually you pulled it open. It was then that you could’ve sworn on it, would’ve bet on it, that your heart now resided on the floor across the room. 

A woman stood before you, 40’s at least, blonde wispy hair turning grey at the roots. And behind her, stood a strawberry blonde she-devil with a grin so wicked it would make your skin crawl.

“Hi there, I’m Sandra with Child Protective Services, I received a call and would like to have a quick talk.” 

It didn’t take long for everyone to clear out, leaving only Eddie behind to see what was going on, and to console you if needed. He wasn’t going to leave you, not when something like this had landed in your lap.

“So it’s just you and…” Sandra flicked through her notes before speaking again. “Willow, is it?” 

“Yes, it’s just us here… I’m sorry I need to ask,” You shot Chrissy a look, your answer already cemented in place with every inching step she took towards Eddie. “Who called you?”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information that we can’t release at this time.” She flicked through more notes before landing on what she was apparently looking for. “It says here that Willow was born in Nevada, is that correct?”

“Yes, she was born this day 5 years ago in Summerlin Hospital.” You rubbed your arms, wanting desperately to hold Willow, but for some reason, this demon of a woman wouldn’t let you.

“And is her father in the picture?” 

You froze, not entirely too sure how to answer that without spilling everything. You weren’t ready, and you’d never be ready, so how were you supposed to cough up now, in front of people who had no business in knowing? “We um… we left my parents in Nevada, they were… well they were abusive towards me growing up, I didn’t want that for her.” 

You thought you’d managed to get past the question, maybe even diverted the topic of conversation. If you could even class this a conversation, more like an interrogation.

“That’s not what I asked you, I asked you was Willow's father in the picture.” 

That was when you saw it in her folder, a copy of Willow’s birth certificate with only one name on it, scribbled messily by a nurse who had no business working in a hospital.

Then, just when it was all going horribly wrong, it got a whole lot worse.

“But Willow is her sister, they have the same parents, your question doesn’t make any sense.” Eddie piped up from the corner, and it took all your might not to tell him to shut the fuck up.

“Please allow her to answer the questions herself sir, your being here is a privilege, not a right.” If only she knew how wrong she was. If only she knew that he had every right to be here.

That was when the tears fell when you knew you couldn’t hold back the secrets any longer. You turned to Eddie, cheeks stained as all you could do was mouth “I’m sorry.” 

“No, her father wasn’t in the picture… we fell out of contact after I told him I was pregnant. But he’s back in it now.”

It was as if you were standing in a glass bowl, and suddenly it shattered around you, your whole world came crumbling down around you. You looked at Eddie, watched as it dawned on him what you were saying, staring as he worked the dates back in his head, face gone pale.

“Wait, I’m sorry I was called under the pretences that you had taken Willow from her parents. Are you telling me that Willow is your child?” Sandra looked at you, handing you a packet of tissues from her cracked leather bag.

“Yes, Willow is my daughter.”

After everything had come to light, it didn’t take long for Sandra to decide that there was no need for any inspection as it seemed that Willow was in a fit and loving home, something you could’ve told her from the start. You stood outside the trailer, Eddie and Chrissy just behind you as you watched her navy Pontiac drive off in a cloud of dust.

And as soon as she was gone, you turned to Chrissy, palm connecting with her cheek in a fit of rage.

“How dare you do that, how dare you try to have her taken from me? What have I ever done to you? I’ve stayed out of your way, I have done nothing towards you that warrants you being that spiteful, that hateful.” You went again, lunging at her, and you would have made it if it weren’t for Eddie grabbing you.

“Thank you, baby, I thought she was going to actually hurt me!” Chrissy said in her whiny high-pitched voice, pouting out her bottom lip as if to show that she was about to cry.

“Let me get this clear for you. We’re done. I never want to hear from you, hell I never want to even so much as see you again. We’re through.” He set you on the ground as Chrissy looked on shocked, annoyed that her stunt hadn’t resulted in lives being ruined while her own prospered, before spinning on her heel and walking away in a huff. You could only feel the terror and rage beginning to grow inside of you as he turned you to face him. “And as for you, I think it’s time we had a talk. A real one this time.” 

You wanted to protest, you wanted to kick and scream and cry and dig your heels in. You couldn’t have this conversation, you wouldn’t.

“What is there to talk about, your psycho bitch of an ex tried to have my kid taken away and failed, end of story.” You went to walk inside, stopping in your tracks when he spoke again.

“Our kid.”

Hearing him say it, like actually say it, wasn’t what you expected it to be. Instead of a ten-tonne boulder crashing onto you, it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“When were you gonna tell me Willows my kid too?”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Only one more chapter to go!!

@vintagehellfire @1paire2vans @introvertedmouse @ms1oftheboys @ashlynnkennedy @poisonedluv @302rocks @micheledawn1975 @corrodedcoffincumslut @f-cklife @chloe-6123 @hellfirexwhore @caseyqdilla @alyisdead @winchester-angel @sunflowerabyss @badluckgirl @blackb4ts @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonsgf2 @rozxartaki @emilyslutface @them-cute-boys @ilovetaquitosmmmm @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @captainonaboat @lottie-90 @adaydreamaway08 @munsonmunster @thecomfortgoth @uglypastels @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @blueywrites (im honestly just tagging people i would really like to have read this.)

[lala1267]

Her Property (Part 2)

Summary: She got what she wanted.

Warnings: smut but not too bad, breaking into a hotel room?

Aria was spralled out on her pink satin queen bed. The headboard was decorated with fairy lights and Polaroids of Elvis performing on the grand stage. The pillows were in shapes of love hearts and flowers. Her hair hugged the satin sheets, and her dress hiked up to her thighs. She lay there just staring at the giant diamond chandler that hung above her. Her brain was clouded with thoughts.

"I want Elvis, I need Elvis."

She whispered to herself as she remained stuck in her lustful haze. She was willing to do anything to have her man, anything. The sound of the television echoed around the pink room. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and her body jolted as she heard,

"Elvis is in New York."

Coming from the television. She instantly sat up. Her bare feet hit the shiny wooden floor before she ran over to the television at lightning speed. She got on her knees in front of it as her bambi eyes watched the screen like a hawk. Her messy hair and her eerie look only added to her insanity.

"Elvis is in New York City for an interview on 5th Street. He is predicted to be there at 4pm. He is said to be staying at a hotel nearby."

That was all that Aria needed to make her insane thoughts a reality. She looked at the rather large clock that hung on her pink painted wall.

"3.10pm"

She said to herself before getting up and rushing to her closet. She threw all of her clothes on the floor and on her bed until she found the perfect outfit. She picked out a short tight dress that hugged her figure perfectly. It was a cherry red, and it was studded with expensive Ruby's that gleamed and twinkled in the light. She had also picked out a pair of black dolly heels and a black ribbon to sit in her blond luscious curls. Her makeup was perfect. She was perfect. She grabbed her handbag and rushed out of the door.

She walked over to 5th Street. The cold breeze hit her pretty face and pushed her golden hair back. She noticed a big crowd of people and a large black limousine.

"Elvis."

She said to herself before making her way to the crowd. Women screamed like animals and men scoffed as their girlfriends worshipped the godly man that graced their presence. Elvis stepped out of the limo and began to sign autographs and take pictures. He had a smile on his face as always. He was dressed in a silk button-up long-sleeved t-shirt that was colourful. He wore some classic black flares, and of course, he wore his signature gold belt. His dark shades covered his dreamy eyes. His black tarr hair shielded the top part of his shades. He towered over the dozens of women and even the men.

Aria finally got to the crowd, but by the time she arrived, Elvis was already inside. Her heart sunk slightly as she looked at the empty limousine. But she wasn't going to give up that easily. She saw a rather large looking security guard standing near the entrance of the building. She quickly walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder with her acrylic nail that was studded with little diamonds. The man turned around and looked down at her with a frown.

"What?"

He grunted.

"Do you know where the hotel is that Elvis is staying in by any chance?"

She asked politely. She put on her best puppy eyes and stood like a lady. The man looked down at her before pointing to a local hotel that was right across the road. Aria's eyes followed his hand. She nodded before rushing over to the hotel.

She ran across the street as cars honked their horns at her. She stopped in the middle of the street and faced one of the cars.

"Shut up!"

She shouted at the driver before walking off and flicking her hair. She finally got to the hotel. She walked through the entrance as if she owned the place. She saw some of the Memphis Mafia members in the lobby. They were already looking at her up and down. She wasn't surprised. She was a very pretty girl. She swayed her hips and swung her long hair as she walked elegantly over to the vending machine. Her heels were clicking on the marble floor that she graced. She pretended to choose one of the items. It was only a matter of time until she would have the Memphis Mafia at their knees for her.

"3, 2, 1..."

She slowly and quietly counted down.

"Ma'am, don't worry, I can buy ya something from that, I will pay."

Jerry schilling said as he came rushing over to the beauty queen. His blonde hair and smart suit were quite attractive, but Aria was here for Elvis, not Jerry. She turned around to look at the handsome man in his eyes. A sexy grin formed on her pink glossy lips as her long black eyelashes batted.

"Oh, I couldn't accept that."

She said in a high-pitched voice as she wafted her small jeweled out hand. Jerry was quick to respond.

"Oh, no, I can't let a pretty girl like you pay."

He said as he stepped closer to her. Aria smiled slightly as she looked up at him.

"Well in that case, I'll have a cherry cola."

She said as she looked at him with her bambi eyes. Jerry nodded before pressing a few buttons and inserting a few coins into the vending machine. He patiently waited for the cola to come out. He grabbed it and gently handed it over to Aria, who was drowning in her own ego.

"Could I get your name, my lovely?"

"My name is Aria."

She said in a flirtatious tone.

"Well, Aria, that's a pretty name. Tell me what you are doing here."

"I'm just booking a room for the night."

She said.

"I'm also staying here for the night. I don't know if you know already but I work for Elvis and he's staying at this hotel. He's staying in room 222, and I'm in room 234."

He said. He followed his sentence with a flirtatious wink. This was exactly what Aria wanted to hear. Aria smiled and tucked a hair behind her ear before she continued to make small talk with Jerry for what seemed like forever. Once she was finished she walked up to the receptionist and booked her room.

"What room would you like to book ma'am?"

The receptionist lady asked politely.

"Room 221 please, and for one night."

Aria said kindly.

"Ok ma'am."

"Oh, wait. Could you please give me an extra set of keys, I stayed at this hotel before and I lost them, its always better to have a backup."

She said as she fake smiled at the lady. The lady turned around to the key sections. Many different numbers were wrote onto each slot, representing each room.

"Your room 221, so this must be yours?

The receptionist asked.

"Mine is the one that says 222. Another man said that he would have to put my set of keys in the 222 slot since there wasn't any space."

She said as she pointed to the 222 slot. The receptionist furrowed her brows in confusion but she let it slide. Once the receptionist was fully turned around, Aria had to cover her cheeky grin with her hand. The receptionist turned back around and handed her the keys before working again.

"Thankyou ma'am."

She said before walking off with a skip in her step. She walked into the elevator and pressed the button for floor 8. She turned around to look at the mirror that was polished perfectly. She began to rummage through her handbag. She pulled out some lip gloss that was a baby pink. She carefully applied the substance to her plump lips before blowing a kiss to herself. The bell rang to signal that she had reached floor eight. She turned around whilst putting the lip gloss back into her bag. As the doors opened, a large smile cascaded over her face. She walked out of it like a happy child.

She made her way to her room. She fiddled with the keys and turned the handle until it unlocked. She walked in and shut the door behind her. She didn't think twice before throwing her stuff onto the bed and walking straight back out. She checked her watch once she was in the corridor. It's was 4.50pm.

Elvis would be back any minute. She quickly pulled out the silver keys that had the number "222" engraved onto the shiny metal. She sneakily unlocked Elvis's door whilst she looked around suspiciously. She heard a click as she slowly pushed open Elvis's door. She quietly stepped into the dark room. Her doll eyes scanned the room briefly before she shut the door.

She flicked a light switch, and she watched as the luxurious room light up. It was beautiful. A large vanity sat itself next to the bathroom door, and a grand king bed was placed neatly next to a wall. Her heels hit the purple carpet beneath her as she explored the room. She walked up to the nightstand. It seemed that Elvis had already been in here since his wallet and belongings were sitting there. She carefully grabbed the wallet with her small hands and opened it. Her sparkling eyes widened as she saw the hundred dollar bills that were stashed in there like they were nothing. But her eyes were quickly hooded when she saw a small picture in a small pocket within the wallet. Her fingers slid into the pocket and pulled out the thin paper.

It was Elvis doing a funny pose with another woman. The woman had jet black hair, just like Elvis's. She was wearing an expensive looking dress. Her hand was placed on his face. Aria's heart sunk and shattered as she saw the large diamond ring on the woman's finger. It couldn't be. She turned the picture over to reveal Elvis's hand righting. It read,

"My beautiful wife."

Aria seemed to be stuck or even frozen. Her fists bawled, and her cheeks grew red. Her teeth grinded against eachover.

"Wife, my ass."

She said through her teeth to herself as she forcefully shoved the picture back into the wallet. She threw the wallet onto the nightstand before walking over to the vanity. She bent down to look into her reflection. She began to apply some makeup. Her hands were trembling with anger as she did so.

"He is mine, and I'll prove it."

She said as she angrily applied her lip gloss. Once she was done, she stormed over to the king bed and sat herself down. She hid her anger by plastering a mistevious grin on her smug face. Her hands ran through her blonde hair before she brushed out any creases in her sexy dress. She crossed her model legs and waited patiently for Elvis.

Not long after, the door knob moved and jolted until the door pushed open. The light from the hallway shot into the room before Elvis stood tall in the doorway. He closed the door and slipped his shoes off. He placed his stuff onto the small table that stood beside the door. Aria's smile only grew wider. Elvis turned around. He furrowed his brows and froze for a moment. He looked at Aria in horror. Aria played with her hair as she waited for Elvis to speak.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get in here?!"

He said as he raised his voice. His fists clenched as he looked at Aria, who stood up from the bed. She slowly walked over to him.

"Don't worry about that."

She said as she stepped closer to him. Her alluring eyes locked with his icey blues.

"What do you want?"

He asked in a fed up tone as he realised who she was. Aria's brows furrowed, and she stepped closer.

"I just wanted to suprise you. What's wrong with that?"

"You fucking broke into my hotel room goddammit!"

Elvis shouted as his eyes filled with fury. This only feuled Aria's ego. She put her index finger against his plump lips as her other hand rested on his chest.

"Hush baby, no need to get angry."

She whispered seductively as she felt his hot breath on her face. Elvis's chest rose up and down.

"You need to leave."

He said sternly. Aria was only inches away from his handsome face. It was so crazy that she was able to haunt Elvis. She was like his shadow.

"Aww, come on, we can have some fun."

She said as she looked into his dreamy eyes.

"I have a wife."

He said as he broke eyecontact. Aria looked at him with a grin on her face.

"Well, that didn't stop you last time, did it?"

She giggled softly. Elvis rolled his eyes before looking at her.

"I'm not like that anymore, I'm a changed man."

He said.

"Oh shut up, don't bullshit me. You can't be a "changed man" in a month."

Aria looked at him as her eyes hooded. Elvis didn't reply. He just looked to the floor. Aria carresed his cheek with her fingers, she looked up at him.

"I know you want me."

She whispered. No reply.

"I can treat you better then that basic bitch can. I can make you feel real good."

No reply. She was so menacing and alluring, something about her was so magnetic. It was like she had a secret power.

"I'll make ya wish that you put the ring on my finger. Just let me make ya feel -"

Her sentence was suddenly interrupted as Elvis grabbed her head and kissed her aggressively. His hands got trapped on her hair as his tongue danced around hers. Aria's hands trailed his body before he forcefully picked her body up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her hands latched onto his face as she kissed him. He walked over to the bed and placed her on the satin sheets. She looked up at him as he began to unbutton his trousers. Her menacing grin appeared once again. She bit her lip as she watched him strip. Once he was bare, he hiked Aria's dress up to her waist and pulled her panties off aggressively. He threw them to the floor. He dragged her body towards his and began to thrust into her like it was his last day. He was so aggressive and strong yet so sexy and handsome. Her moans filled the room as her body bounced up and down. Her angelic moans were like music to his ears. Elvis grunted into her ear like an animal. His big hands gripped her waist tightly. He squeezed her to the point where it hurt, but she didn't care. She looked at the sweat that dripped from his head and soaked into the smooth sheets. His hair bounced. Aria wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself. It was like he was letting his built-up rage out on her. Almost as if she was an object. Her lininen curls were now messy and frizzy.He slowed down once he reached his high. Aria's moans got quieter as she passed her orgasm. Elvis layed on top of her body, his chest heaving and his heart beating.

"Oh, I love you."

Aria said breathlessly into his ear. Elvis got up and began to put his trousers back as he looked down at Aria. Her hair was messy, and her cheeks were red.

"You make me do some crazy things."

He said before chuckling. Aria smiled before sitting up. Elvis walked over to his wardrobe and got changed into some boxers. He grabbed a t-shirt of his and threw it at Aria. Aria looked up at him confused.

"Put it on, you're staying here with me."

Elvis said. A large smile invaded Aria's face as she looked at him. Her heart began to beat faster as her blood coursed through her veins. Her dimpled cheeks and ruby lips enhanced as he looked at her. She quickly put the clothes on like it was her mission. Elvis lay down in the bed as he watched her change. Once she finished, she turned around to look at Elvis.

"C'mere honey."

He said with his southern drawl as he looked at her with a grin. She walked over to him, and she was pulled into his arms. She lay on top of him as he cuddled her like a baby. His hands stroked her body as his breath blew on her. This was all she ever wanted, and she got it. The smell of his cologne and the heat of his body. It was pure bliss. She smelt of white roses and felt as fragile and satiny as her hair. She lifted her head to look into his glittering eyes. She smiled as she looked at him. His long eyelashes and thick brows were so angelic and sexy. He bent his head down towards her and placed a candy sweet kiss onto her forehead, making her eyes flutter shut. She had finally got what she wanted.

[swissboyhisch]

The Aussie Snack Experience

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Aussie!Reader

Summary: As a marketing idea, you get to feature in a video with Nico trying snacks from your home country.

Word Count: 1637

Warnings: Alcohol. A little bit of an AU as Devs and Rangers aren't apart of the global series.

A/N: Another to the Nico x Aussie!Reader series

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

You had been missing home a little and asked your family to send a box of Australian snacks and drinks. Unsurprisingly, your parents sent you multiple huge boxes, much bigger than you had ever expected. Lollies, biscuits, chocolate. Soft drink, alcohol, milo. So many things from your childhood. Luckily you had a whole team of hockey players you could share with. 

When the news had gotten to Anna in the Media department about your delivery, she asked you if you were willing to do a video with Nico. Apparently the idea of Nico trying Australian snacks and drinks was a good marketing idea. Especially since New Jersey was one of the teams just announced as a part of the Global pre-season games in Melbourne.

For once, you accompanied Nico to the arena one this day with your boxes of Australian stuff in the back of the car. Jack had picked you both up. Meaning he got roped into help carrying the boxes into the room where Anna had set up the video production. You two were setting up while the boys had morning skate. 

“Did your parents actually send you all this?” Anna questioned as she unpacked the drinks box.

You hummed as you pulled out the little bags of different flavours of Shapes. So many things. “Yeah, I was feeling a little homesick. Missing some snacks.”

“And even alcohol?”

“Yep!” You respond as Anna holds up a four pack of cruisers. “Those are my favourite. They sent me a heap of them thankfully.”

As training neared the end, you prepared the fairy bread. The slices of white bread slathered with butter and the Hundreds & Thousands on top. The perfect kids party food. Anna had set up a table of food off camera. As you and Nico would sit in frame, Anna would bring one plate of food or a drink for us to try. Well Nico to try.

“Heya babe,” Nico hummed, coming to join you on the couch. His hair was wet from his shower. All shaggy just like you liked it. 

“Hey sexy.”

A flush coloured his cheeks at the comment. Nico pressed a kiss to your cheek as the media crew set up the equipment. Majority of it was done, just final touches before you all started the shoot. Nico was going to start off the video with a little welcome.

“Hi, my name Nico Hischier and I’m here with my Australian girlfriend (Y/N),” Nico starts off. “As preparation for the Global series in Melbourne, (Y/N) has brought in a heap of Australian snacks for me to try. Some I may have already had, some I haven’t.”

“I tried to make it so it’s mostly the ones you have,” You add.

Nico waved over to Anna, “Anna is going to bring in the snacks for us.”

“Snack one!”

Anna brought over a plate of Tim Tams, just the plain ones. You got excited at the sight. Since receiving the box, you haven’t actually eaten anything so you couldn’t wait.

“I’ve had these!” Nico exclaimed happily, immediately grabbing one and takinging a bite.

You follow his actions, taking a bite from the biscuit and savouring the taste. “Do you remember what they’re called?”

“Uhhh, Tim Tams yeah?” You clap happily, giving him a smooch on the cheek as a reward. He laughs, “Is that my reward, a kiss for every right guess on what they’re called?”

“That wasn’t a part of the plan but I guess we could fit that in.”

The next thing was a glass of milk which confused Nico. Anna put two glasses down before the pair of you. You knew exactly what it was for and it was something you haven’t done since you were a child.

“Uh…”

You laughed, “Time of a Tim Tam Slam.”

“You’ve never told me about this,” Nico argues.

Without telling him anything, you grab another biscuit and bite the two opposite corners. You dunk it a little in the lactose-free milk and suck like it’s a straw. Nico just watched on, confused as hell. 

“It makes it taste like chocolate milk,” You reveal, nodding for Nico to try his own. 

You watched as the Swiss tentatively bit off the corners and sucked up the milk. His eyes widened when he tasted the milk. 

“That tastes really good,” He comments.

You nod in agreement, “Now bite the Tim Tam.”

To you, the best part of the Tim Tam Slam was eating the biscuit after. The mushy biscuit. Sounds gross but it was so good. Anna brings out the next snack which is fairy bread.

“Is this the fairy bread?” Nico asks, examining the plate.

“The best party food of all time.”

“Isn’t a children’s party food?” 

You scoff, “I had this at my 18th birthday party thank you very much.”

Nico was tentative when he picked up a slice of bread. Spilling the Hundreds & Thousands over his lap. You giggled, taking your own piece and taking a bite. It took you back to your birthday where you and your best friend just ate the whole plate while drinking cruisers and cob loaf.

“Can we have a drink to wash this down?” You ask, smirking at Anna.

That was the code word you had sorted out earlier for Anna to bring out two of the cruisers. Both of them are your favourite flavour, Zesty Lemon & Lime. Nico saw them before they made it into frame. He lit up, having had Cruisers before as you loved drinking them when you went home for the off season. 

Nico immediately grabbed one, as did you, and clinked glasses. He took a sip happily. “These are Vodka Cruisers.”

“Like White Claws but better,” You add, taking another swig. 

“Lemon and Lime is probably the best flavour,” Nico comments.

You grin, “You take after me.”

Nico grabbed your legs, lifting them to rest them over his lap. You two made yourselves comfy which Anna loved. The fans were going to eat this up. Nico liked to keep you hidden, to himself. But this was a gold mine of content. 

“Do you have any Shapes on that table?” Nico asks, peering over behind the camera. 

At the request, Anna brings over multiple little bags of all the flavours of Shapes. Nico immediately went for the Pizza flavour. It was your favourite too. Then the door opened revealing Jack Hughes and Dawson Mercer.

“Snacks?” The youngest asked, heading straight for the table.

Anna suspected this would happen at some point. The team couldn’t help themselves but annoy whoever was on media duty. “If you want snacks, go sit with (Y/N) and Nico in front of the camera and introduce yourselves.”

Both of the boys excitedly sat in front of the couch like little kids. Your hand came to pat Jack’s head while Nico flicked the back of Mercer’s head.

“Seriously you two?” Nico huffed. 

“Leave them,” You laugh, nodding to Anna to bring out more snacks.

“Hi! My name is Jack Hughes and this is Dawson Mercer. We’re joining our parents to try Australian snacks from Mum’s home country.”

Dawson nodded, “What he said.”

The next to be brought out to the table was a bowl of favourites. Jack grabbed the Crunchy, Dawson grabbed a Flake, Nico went for a Boost and you grabbed a Picnic. Jack opened his, making the flakes of chocolate land all over his lap. Dawson just pissed himself laughing at his friend.

“They’re your favourite, yeah?” Nico asked, nodding to the chocolate in your hand. Trying to ignore the children in front of you two.

You nod, taking a bite. “Behind Chomps.”

“Chomp?” Jack questions.

At those words, Anna threw a couple bars of Chomp at you guys. You and Nico both caught yours but watching Jack and Dawson getting hit in the head cracked the you guys up. Jack looked like a deer in the headlights when he felt the bump before it landed in his lap. You didn’t waste any time though. Tearing into the bar and biting at the crunchy, caramel, wafer and chocolate treat. 

“Yo these are great,” Jack stated, chewing still.

You slap him up the back of his head, “Eat with your mouth closed Jackson!”

“My name isn’t Jackson,” he argued.

“Don’t argue with Mum.”

Nico rolled his eyes, “Love that we just suddenly have kids.”

You just picked up your cruiser again and skulled it. It’s better to deal with these two when drunk. Anna finally stopped laughing long enough to bring out lamingtons. Jack didn’t bother waiting, going immediately for the food. 

“What’s this?” Dawson asked you. 

You take one and offer it to Nico. He smiled, taking a bite of the dessert then pressing a little kiss to your lips. You hum at the taste coating your lips. 

“A chocolate lamington,” Nico answers for you.

In response to his words, you press a kiss to his cheek once more. “Neeks is right.”

“You guys want to wrap it up?” Anna suggests to you. 

Jack and Dawson weren’t even paying attention anymore, Just grabbing at the different snacks on the table. Luckily Jack was driving you and Nico as you both had drunk a couple cruisers through the duration of the filming. It wasn’t a game day which was why he was allowed to drink. 

You decided to do the outro as the two younger boys didn’t give a shit about the video. Nico was being clingy, holding you to him. “Thanks for watching me feed the boys Australian snacks. Make sure you guys come see the boys play against the Rangers in Melbourne on the 23rd and 24th of September. You may even catch a glimpse of me somewhere in the stadium. Peace out.”

“Bye!” The boys shout, waving at the camera. “See you in Australia!”

TAGLIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings @jayrami3

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

Whispers of Tiny Footsteps

Pairing: Pippa Fitz Amobi x fem reader

Baby Fitz Amobi junior inspector Headcannons

Warning: Utter fluff. Pippa Fitz Amobi stealing my heart.

Did not expect this to be so long.

Your heart races as you hold the positive pregnancy test. You’re a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, and sheer disbelief. “Pippa,” you stammer, “we’re going to be parents. Can you believe it?” Pippa laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, leaving kisses on your forehead, your jaw, anyplace she can reach . “I can’t believe it either, love. But I’m so ready for this adventure.”

Pippa can’t stop talking. She rambles about baby names, nursery colours, and parenting books. “What if I mess up?” she frets. “What if I accidentally teach our child Morse code instead of nursery rhymes?” You kiss her forehead, the apples of her cheeks. “Pip, you’ll be an amazing mum. And I promise, no secret codes until they’re at least five.”

Pippa transforms the spare room into a cozy nursery. She paints the walls a soft mint green and hangs fairy lights. “Look, love,” she says, pointing at the crib. “Our little one will sleep here.” Your heart swells. “It’s perfect, Pip” you can’t help but say, bring her close to you, kiss the top of her frigid nose, “you are Perfect. Our baby will just love you”.

Pippa insists on visiting Harrods for baby essentials. She buys the softest blankets, designer onesies, and a mobile that plays classical music. “Our baby deserves the best,” she declares. You chuckle. “Pip, they won’t even remember the mobile.” “But we will,” Pippa replies, her eyes shining.

Pippa becomes a sentinel. She hovers over you, making sure you eat well and rest enough. “No heavy lifting,” she scolds. “And don’t stress. Our baby can sense it.” You roll your eyes. “Pip, I’m not made of glass.” “You’re carrying our child,” Pippa retorts. “You are made of glass” she scolds, moving to cup your jaw, lithe fingers holding your jaw in a firm grip. Her blue eyes staring into yours, “I want our baby to be healthy. I want you to be healthy. So no heavy lifting. If I have to call Ravi to do some heavy lifting I will. I’ve been needing to build that cradle in our room”. You lean your forehead into her chest, trailing your finger down her jaw, down to her neck. “I don’t think Ravi should help build it. After all you know how much I love watching you work with your hands” you whisper suggestively. Pippa blushes, “why don’t I get started on that now.” You laugh as you watch pip fly to her feet, eyes already trailing your figure. Hunger evident in her eyes. It’s only later when your backed up against your bed, a hungry pip laying desperate kisses on your sensitive neck that pip speaks. Her voice muffled by your skin. “Pregnancy makes you so much sexier have I told you that?”. You only blush.

“What about Agatha?” she suggests. “Or Hercule?”You laugh. “Pip, we’re not naming our child after fictional detectives.” “Fine,” she pouts. “But I’m still pushing for Mycroft”. Pippa arranges the nursery bookshelf meticulously. Agatha Christie’s novels sit next to Dr. Seuss. “Our child needs a balanced literary diet,” she declares. “Murder mysteries and whimsical rhymes.”You add a copy of “Goodnight Moon.” Pippa raises an eyebrow. “Is there a hidden clue in there?”

Pippa’s eyes widen the first time she feels the baby kick. “Sweetheart did you feel that?” You nod, tears in your eyes. “Our little inspector is saying hello.”Pippa presses her ear to your belly. “Inspector Junior, reporting for duty.”

Pippa packs the hospital bag like she’s solving a cold case. Extra socks, snacks, and a magnifying glass (just in case). “What’s the magnifying glass for?” you ask. “To examine our baby’s tiny fingerprints,” she replies. “And also to read the fine print on hospital forms.” Oh how you love this woman.

Pippa holds your hand through contractions. “Breathe, love,” she whispers. “We’ve got this.” When the pain subsides, she kisses your forehead. “You’re incredible.” “So are you,” you reply. Pippa is attentive to you, constantly holding your hands, kissing your cheeks. Josh is constantly waiting at the door, victor close behind, anxious to meet his grandchild. Leanne is constantly fretting over you, fluffing your pillow and wiping the sweat of your brow. “Just hold on a tad longer my loves” she encourages. Cara and Naomi come by, they bring board games and laugh over how protective pip is. But you love it. As labor progresses you no longer can have small moments of peace, pain is all you feel. It’s a deep primal pain that fills your veins. You cry, feel tears down your cheeks.

Pip holds you, chases the tears. “I’ve got you my sweet. Deep breathes for me” she says, eyes on alert. You had a history of holding your breathe when the pain got to high. Leanne is close behind, monitoring your oxygen level.

The moment they heard their baby’s first cry, Pippa’s eyes filled with tears. She kissed your forehead and muttered, “You’re incredible, love.” And she meant it. She watched as the tiny, wrinkled baby was placed onto your chest. A mess of pink skin and strong lungs that shook the walls. Leanne had smiled, “just like Pippa when she was born. Lungs made of iron”. “She’s perfect,” Pippa murmured, her voice full of awe. She hovered over the baby, checking her fingers and toes, making sure everything was in place. When a nurse approached, Pippa narrowed her eyes. “Be gentle,” she warned, as if the nurse were handling precious evidence.

“What’s her name?” Leanne had asked.

“Grace Fitz Amobi” Pippa had answered.

Pippa insisted on skin-to-skin contact, her shirt unbuttoned as she cradled their daughter against her chest. Grace’s tiny head nestled into the curve of Pippa’s neck. You watched as Pippa kisses her tiny forehead. You’re going to be brilliant,” Pippa promised. “Just like your mum.”

Josh and Victor were allowed in a few minutes after. Josh with his almost teenage voice had begged to hold her. Pippa had smiled, handing the small bundle into her brothers arms, “hold her gently now Josh” she corrected him. Josh was a natural, hoisting the baby against his chest and smiling widely. “I think I might love grace more than you Pippo hippo” he commented.

The car ride home was nerve-wracking. Pippa drove cautiously, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, where their daughter slept in her car seat. “We’re responsible for a human life now,” Pippa said, her voice filled with wonder. You laced your fingers with hers. “I’m sure our parents felt the same” you reassure.

Pippa took the night shift, sitting in the dimly lit nursery with their daughter cradled in her arms. She’d read her research papers aloud, hoping Grace would absorb some knowledge. You would tiptoe in, watching Pippa’s face soften as she gazed at their daughter. “She’s got your eyes,” Pippa whispered. “And my curiosity.”

As days turned into weeks, Pippa marveled at their daughter’s development. She’d watch her kick her legs, fascinated by the tiny muscles in action. “Look at her,” Pippa would say, her voice hushed. “When she’s mobile it’s going to be a nightmare”.

Pippa, in her meticulous nature, once put the nappy on backwards. You had discovered it during a change and burst into laughter. “Well,” Pippa deadpanned her cheeks crimson , “I was just testing your observational skills.”

You had prepared mashed bananas for the Grace’s first taste of solid food. Pippa, ever the researcher, decided to taste it herself. Her expression? Utter disgust. “I can’t believe she eats that”.

Pippa introduced Grace to classic literature—board books with titles like “Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Rattle.” You had caught Pippa whispering, “Elementary, my dear Watson. The rattle thief strikes again.”

[magmagicstyle]

JOLENE

(PART THREE OF THE OTHER WOMAN (“SO I CAN HAVE YOU BACK” SERIES))

A/N: THIS WILL PROBABLY HIT YOU IN THE FEELS... and I'm just sad. Also, yes, this is a huge flashback. (ESME POV)

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

She could remember, clear as the day, the moment her husband met his soulmate. It wasn’t because of her perfect memory or because she was this supernatural being that could do things that most humans couldn’t. Not at all. It was because the day they met, she saw her husband's expression changing in a way that she had never seen before. 

Not even when her dear husband had told her that he loved her, his expression had been so honest, so eager. 

It was with that, that some part of her knew that she should walk away. She knew that she should let them know each other and follow the path that destiny had created for them. But a stronger beast inside her, a horrible, jealous and petty monster moved her to call his name, to hug him and press her body against him. To mark him as hers and to show his soulmate that he already had someone by his side. 

That's why she wasn't surprised when his soulmate growled at her. Red eyes like the blood that he probably drank quite often shining with anger and hatred. She pretended to be confused, to follow her husband's instructions without a clue of what was happening. She let him move her behind his body and enjoyed the feeling of being his priority over his own soulmate. Now, sitting in the empty room in her home, she only felt ashamed of her actions. 

Her husband's soulmate was young. Of course, she knew not to believe in someone's appearance since becoming an ageless monster herself but… A part of her, a deep part in her heart knew that he was young, inexperienced and so full of life and hope. She would even dare to say that her husband's soulmate had some innocence in him that not a lot of vampires had. Especially not the ones that drank from humans. Still, with his new golden eyes (he had started to change his diet after understanding how important it was for her husband), he looked so innocent and hopeful. 

And he was gorgeous. Even for a vampire. It made her think of her seudo-daughter, Rosalie. So beautiful that even vampires had to turn to look at her twice. He was like that, those gorgeous locks of hair framing a face that looked straight out of a fairy tale. He had a mouth perfect to be kissed, plump lips painted (un)naturally with a soft pink colour, and his now golden eyes made him look like a doe. He was so beautiful that she knew that his husband had a hard time pulling away from him when it was time to go to their marital bed. She felt how her husband wanted to stay deep inside the other vampire, enjoying the feeling of being blessed by his soulmate touch while he thrust deep inside him. Sometimes, she wished she could join them in bed, to look at his husband’s soulmate being ravished and fucked beyond making any sense. To look at the face of pure pleasure that her husband would make every time he came inside his mate, and then… to make her husband watch while she made his mate enjoy her body, to make the lovely vampire see her enjoy her husband’s touch. She wanted for them to see the other coming apart by her hand and watch how they came apart by touching themselves. 

Still, she knew that, even if he spent time ravishing the other male vampire, Carlisle would always leave his bed and go back to hers. She knew how every time that Carlisle left his lover’s bed, hurt the poor vampire tied to his soul. Still, she never accepted the idea or even proposed for her husband to stay with his mate for a full night. It wasn’t like Carlisle would even consider it. Her adorable husband, her sweet but traditional and a bit dumb husband. To focus on the idea of a perfect and truthful marriage that even the idea of having his mate as a lover made him fall into depression for a few months before reluctantly accepting the other vampire advances. Her husband, who as soon as he slept with his soulmate for the first time, left the other vampire and looked for her, kneeling in front of her and sobbing in her skirt while asking for forgiveness. She remembered that exact moment like it was yesterday. She remembered how she ended up looking up and saw the most heartbreaking scene in her husband’s mate. She remembered how the poor vampire’s eyes filled with tears that would never fall and how he turned around hiding inside his bedroom. Maybe the young vampire hoped for her husband to understand that they were meant to be and to leave her for him. Maybe he hoped that she would feel disgusted and leave her husband as soon as they slept together. She didn’t know. 

Still, nobody left. They continued that sick routine like it was normal. Her husband started to go more often to his lover’s bed. He ravished him for hours, moaning loudly and marking him in any way that he could in his own scent, before getting out of his bed and room and going to her bed. All of this, so he could bathe in her scent until he had forgotten all about his instincts that wanted to pull him back to his soulmate's arms. Out of spite, Esme, every night that his husband went to his lover and made love to him, she put on some music… Trying her best to ignore her own imagination, to ignore how much she wanted to see them together… And as soon as he came back to her bed, she turned off the music and made him whisper loving words in her ears, knowing deep down that the other vampire was hearing everything. 

She hated being the one making him feel unwelcomed, but at the same time, she loved that her husband always made her a priority over his soulmate. It was horrible, to be honest. Enjoying the clear sadness and anger from a vampire that had no other option than to love a man that clearly loved him but had promised his heart to another. Still, she had never said that she wasn’t a monster. Even if her husband wanted to believe otherwise. 

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you

Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep

And there's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when he calls your name

Jolene

She knew that her husband was starting to fall for his mate as soon as their conversations passed the simple carnal desires and started to be more simple. She understood that her husband was falling for the other vampire as soon as in the middle of the night, her husband would whisper about something his adorable soulmate had said or done the night before or about a funny joke his mate said during sex. Because, of course, his mate has helped him take some liberties and talk in ways that he wasn’t used to before. Because, his soulmate was able to help him in ways that she could never. 

She knew that Carlisle was falling for his mate as soon as they came from their work at the hospital laughing and commenting about something that a doctor or a nurse said, while she stayed at their home and followed the role of the typical housewife. She knew that he was falling for him as soon as he commented about her children to his mate, as soon as he made the poor hopeful vampire think that he was going to meet them and as soon as his mate started to get a bit more possessive over Carlisle’s time. 

It was almost as if he knew that her husband was falling for him, and saw it as a chance to push her out of the picture. She pretended that his rejection didn’t hurt. She pretended that being ignored by her husband’s mate and being treated as something to get rid off didn’t hurt. Not because she was bitter over it. After her actions, her petty revenges and rules, she didn’t deserve the opportunity of showing that she was hurt. She understood that in the young vampire’s mind, she wasn’t more than a meddling being that was in the middle of what could be an amazing relationship with his soulmate. But she was the wife, she was the one that shared her husband’s bed at night, even if they couldn’t sleep… And her husband’s soulmate, more than a real relationship, was the type of relationship you had with a dirty affair with a secretary or with someone from the office. In other words, the so-called soulmate was the other woman in this relationship. 

Still, she could see how her husband kept falling deeper for his mate. She could see it so clearly, so obviously… and she knew, she knew that the little minx that came into the picture to take her husband away from her arms, also knew that he was starting to win his heart. She saw how he sat on his lap sometimes, pouring him a glass of warm blood. All taken from his favourite animal. She saw how her husband’s soulmate talked warmly about their kids, even if he hadn’t met them yet. She saw how her husband’s eyes gleamed with soft adoration every time his mate wasn’t looking. 

A few months ago she would never think that her husband would come to really love his mate. Hell, a year ago she would never even entertain the idea of her husband leaving her. Now, looking at how her husband seemed to look at his mate like the vampire had put the stars in the sky, like he was the only religion left to believe, the only one who held the truth in his lips. Now, looking at the love this two shared for one another, even if they didn't notice that the other loved him, she wasn't sure that her husband wouldn't leave her if his mate really insisted on it. 

Esme wound’t lie. She was fucking scared of being left by her husband because his mate asked it for it while they were making love. At this point, she didn’t have any authority to call it only sex, the soft touches, the kind whispers that they shared while their bodies collided against one another and their hands gripped their stone cold skin. It made her feel like what he had with her was only sex. She barely remembered the last time Carlisle had said her name with such devotion, with such care. She couldn't even remember how it felt to be made love slowly and passionately. She knew that her husband's mate didn't have that problem.     

She also knew that her husband understood that he was starting to love his mate more than something instinctual and carnal, as soon as her husband started to pull away from his mate… and some rotten part of her, enjoyed watching the expression of pure disappointment and hurt that appeared on his mate’s face. 

And I can easily understand

How you could easily take my man

But you don't know what he means to me

Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

Still, the satisfaction didn't last for long. The burn of guilt took her heart almost completely when she saw how her husband started to make dumb mistakes in favour of showing her that he loved her. The sadness, that first had appeared for his mate and then moved to herself, went back to appearing only when she saw the poor vampire tied by fate to her husband. After all, there wasn't a more horrible view than the one made by a creature losing what innocence it had left. 

She saw his efforts, his work for becoming better. She saw how much he tried. How he slowly became more and more quiet. The once charming and hopeful vampire had turned into something small, delicate and so pitiful, ike a small mouse trying to not drawn attention to itself, with fear of being thrown out… 

And yes, she had to admit (now with shame) that at first she was happy to have her husband's attention back. She enjoyed the feeling of being made love to. She bathed in the soft words, the caresses and whispers. She felt like a winner the first night her husband's mate only received a quick fuck after a long day and then how her husband made sure to show her the love and care that he didn't show his mate. She enjoyed how the soft cuddling and blood drinking in the couch that her husband and his mate shared started to become less and less, until her husband stood up from the couch and went to her if she showed that she needed him. She was winning in the fight were the love of her husband was the major prize and she wasn't above making dirty moves or act more fair and weak than what was possible for her to keep winning.

That was, until she heard him. 

Until she heard how her own actions were contributions to the suffering of a soul that even if wasn't kind to her, truly loved her husband. Until she heard sobs and whimpers that wouldn't produce tears. Until she heard the pleadings of a poor creature tied to someone that had made his chore to ignore him and hurt him in any way possible. 

She knew that her husband wasn't cruel, not intentionally. 

She knew that, but hearing how broken his mate sounded while asking him to stay at least one night in his bed, while asking him to at least hug him like before and hearing her husband say that hugs and cuddles weren't part of the deal that they made at the beginning, it left her feeling cold (even if it wasn't really possible). Hearing her beloved Carlisle act so coldly and stern with the gift that destiny had given him in their lonely existence, it made him almost unrecognisable in her eyes and ears. 

She knew that she was to blame for her husband's reaction, not completely, but she couldn't shake the blame after having played the game and used dirty tricks to win it.  She didn't control her husband, but she knew he was a man of honour and her acting like a poor housewife, acting a bit sad and heartbroken by his actions, was what pushed him to remember his vows and to pull away from his mate. Mate that was now suffering from being rejected without really being given a real existence of this sick relationship that they were trying to maintain. 

After all, it wasn't like her husband's mate and her loved each other. They were barely together and when they were, they acted civil at best. Their relationship was more like the ones forming part of a harem and fighting for the king's attention, willing to stab the other in the back just to look like the prettiest one in front of their master. It was sick and actually depressing. 

It was with that, with seeing herself in the mirror for the first time, that she understood how her actions and her husband’s stupidity and blindness at his own mate's feelings were breaking a bond that was supposed to be sacred. Carlisle's mate was pulling away from him, asking for less and less of his time, asking for less of everything. Almost like he was wasting away… and Esme… 

Esme felt that she was the only one in this house noticing how much suffering this poor creature was going through. It was like her husband had turned into a blind man, seeing what he wanted to see, acting like a stern father and a disapproving figure every time his mate asked for his time, asking for a bit of attention, for anything that Carlisle would be willing to give him… and Carlisle… 

Carlisle would give him crumbs of it. Carlisle would provide him with attention until he saw Esme passing by and he would drop everything to go to her. Yes, at first it made her happy but after seeing the hurt and suffering they were provoking, she wanted Carlisle to realise that he was making a huge mistake. Still, Carlisle wouldn't see. Carlisle would leave his mate to help Esme with some simple grocery bags that had cleaning products easy to carry around. He would leave his mate in the middle of a conversation just because Esme wanted to reach for something on a shelf. He would tell his mate that he was acting spoiled or entitled when he wasn't his real partner or the one he chose for himself… With those words, Esme questioned if her husband wasn't cruel. Maybe he was. 

You could have your choice of men

But I could never love again

He's the only one for me

Jolene

I had to have this talk with you

My happiness depends on you

And whatever you decide to do

Jolene

Everything reached a point where she couldn't take it anymore when Carlisle rejected his mate's idea of a trip together. Only the two of them… and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Carlisle and Esme always went on trips alone, they travelled the world together and left the man's mate alone in their house without a call or anything. They went around, saw their children, acted like a happy family and then went back to their little cottage far from the world, and the little mate was there. Waiting like a dog that was so trusting of his owner that he knew that he would come back. But even dogs can have resentments and even pets can run away if they feel that they aren't loved. 

What's worse. Carlisle's words. His words were thrown so carelessly towards his mate, calling him childish, selfish and other things that Esme didn't want to even think of. How could he be so blind? Was it on purpose? He wanted to hurt his mate so he wouldn't love him? There was no way… after all, even when they were in bed together, Carlisle still commented about something that his mate had said or done… and he still looked so proud when talking about his mate's achievements… So, why? Why did he work so hard in making his mate feel unwanted?

Esme couldn't take it anymore. So as soon as they started their trip to see their children she decided to stop and talk with him. She yelled. She screamed in his face for his cruelty and the pain that they were putting his mate through. She even punched his chest and asked if he was the cruel and blind man that couldn't see when someone so precious was suffering. Then, she asked for a break. For a break of being together. A break from all the fighting for his attention. She confessed her actions like a sinner in front of a catholic father and told him of the things she heard and saw in his mate's eyes. She confessed how her actions, even if they came from a place of fear of being abandoned, were as cruel as his words and own actions… and Carlisle, her adored husband, broke down.

She never saw him so weak, so painfully distressed. It made her want to turn away and push him towards his mate, to pull him by the arm until he could hug his mate and beg for forgiveness. But they couldn't. They needed to see their children. They needed to compose themselves and pretend that everything was fine so they could have two days with them. Still, her husband looked so small. Carlisle was acting like a child having his heart broken for the first time and that was so painful to watch. Still, he promised to be better. He promised to accept what she was asking and to do right by his mate. He swore that he would start to make things right as soon as they were back in their cottage and that he would give his mate the love he had been hiding. He also promised to be better for her, but Esme didn't want that. Carlisle had been good to her, always… and that was the problem. 

So, when the two days passed and they were back in their cottage, Esme took a deep breath to feel the smell of her husband's mate… and came with nothing. Carlisle had run to his mate's room as soon as they arrived, wanting to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness, to ask for a change to make things right and to prove that he loved him… but came down with nothing more than a picture of him and his mate together. 

Esme, in the meantime, had turned to her side, a little shiny thing catching her attention and looked at the gorgeous ring that Carlisle had given his mate when he was falling for him and didn't even notice that he was. She hadn't seen it in a long time, always hidden under the young vampire clothes, like a little treasure. Under it, there was a letter. Surprisingly, it was addressed to her. 

"Dear Esme, 

I have to write this letter to you because I know you're the one who understands how much he means to me...

I would beg you to please don't take my man… but we both know that he was never mine, to begin with. 

Please take care of him, because we know that even if I wished I could… I can't take him from your arms.

Goodbye, Carlisle, I really hope that you aren't the only one for me, but right now, I don't feel like I will ever be able to love again. 

(Y/N)"

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him even though you can

Jolene, Jolene

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @rexburn12 @kettnerjanea @pandalover19

TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES: (I can't believe I have one of these!) @idksleep-y @catspector @simpingfortoomanypeople @akiraackerman19 @y2k-whor3 @blackenedflowers @untitled74745 @cruxiohp @fanficaddictmwah @finchisloney @sen-nn-a @mrsxyz480 @deepblueseasworld @blackenedflowers @maiasvidan28 @linoriii @lucianideals @erensbbg @theanimalover22128 @its-ares @thewhitewolfmarvel @chrisevansxmalereader @sammy-stark @sad-eyes-6k4 @datenshousan @creezoldyck @1800cokewitch @l4l4j0p433 @carlislecullensgirl @qu3nt1nb00m @stevensimpp @chubbichubb @fariylixie0915 @rhyanna6012

[magixfairyix]

OKAY so Darcy and Iorda (oc) character foil/dynamic art, based on the album cover of the song Evelynn Evelynn by Evelynn Evelynn.

A lot of it is based on the AU of mine (Decent AU, where bad things happen to Iorda quicker and she ends up joining the Trix after season 3) that has a lot of character dynamic stuff. Darcy is just trying to tell Iorda "This pretending is going to bite you in the ass and ruin your life" and Iorda just responds "You're my enemy, I hate you, you're wrong, and this isn't a part. It is who I am."

There's a lot of symbolism here, in both the art and lyrics of the song, so...

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Art Symbolism

~ "Of dark arts." Not quite symbolism, but Darcy is the witch of dark arts, and Iorda is the fairy of dark arts. Like Bloom and Darkar, Iorda is the balance of Darcy, and vice versa.

~ Moon symbolism. With the small full moon and crescent moon at the top/bottom, and I tried to make Iorda's hair in a full moon shape, while Darcy's is shaped like a crescent.

~ The crescent moon symbolizes personal growth (ie, Darcy in S.S.S. aka my fanfiction), while the full moon symbolizes new chapters (Iorda trying to accept herself through changes)

~ Color symbolism. The colour black Iorda is clothed in represents power, because as the fairy of dark arts, she is extremely powerful. She is viewed by others a lot regarding that power and less on her as a person. But it also symbolizes depression and sadness

~ Iorda is forcing herself to be the perfect fairy and to live out her role, and this saddens her deep down even though she tried to hide it. The colour symbolism is also of intimidation, showing that quite a few students at Alfea (who are against dark magic) are intimidated by her

~ The colour purple that Darcy is clothed in represents being emotional. In my backstory for her, her life was ruined by Liliss from showing her pain and suffering, and so its ironic in that way.

~ It also represents wisdom, compassion, and enlightenment. She has a lot of knowledge in her craft, and in the Decent AU, she tries to convince Iorda (albiet through banter and some verbal jabs) that Iorda is just playing a part and that it will break her. Darcy, of course, ends yup being right. So... yeah enlightenment.

~ Darcy's sleeves are longer Iorda's, showing that Darcy has more experience in using her dark magic, and as a witch (Iorda also goes from fairy to witch down the line, but later on).

~ Both of their sleeves are sharp at the end, as both of them have caused damage with her magic. Darcy's was longer ago, but Iorda's was more recent (and was part of the reason she ended up joining the Trix).

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Lyric Symbolism

"Why do we bother to stay? Why are you runnin' away?"

~ Iorda (1st lyric) is questioning what she is doing with her life, trying to play the part of a fairy with dark magic even though deep down, she wants to use negative emotions for her magic.

~ Darcy (2nd lyric) just being like: why are you hiding from who you are? She sees Iorda, the magical balance of she and her sisters, about to go down the path of pain that the Trix had gone down at the hands of the Ancestors. She finds it pitiful how much Iorda is pretending, and truthfully, just doesn't want to see Iorda go down that same road.

"Everything's just come together at last. It's broken, I don't want to play."

~ Iorda (1st lyric) trying to keep her masks and her fake beliefs and attitudes, intact. She believes things can be good as long as she keeps everything together.

~ Darcy (2nd lyric) has already seen things go badly in her own life, realizing that having the power of the Ancestors is 'broken.' It's a game of pain that is inevitable. She doesn't want to play that game anymore and has gotten out of it. Iorda hasn't yet realized this; that the Ancestor's magic leads to pain and a shitty fate.

"They're not looking anyway."

vs

"They're watching us anyway."

~ Darcy (1st lyric) has realized that people don't care. The Council of Magix doesn't truly care about Iorda being the fairy of dark arts or about her wellbeing. Darcy knows that people are pretending to care and that if Iorda would accept her dark magic (also join the dark side lol) they wouldn't care any more about her than they do already.

~ Iorda (2nd lyric) bases herself a lot on people's opinions. She feels constantly watched for one little mistake, and then if that happens, people will tear her down. She won't be the perfect fairy of dark arts she wants people to see anymore.

~ ALSO. The curtains behind Iorda being open and Darcy's being closed is the second thing that shows this.

"Don't you feel like severing? Everything's just come together at last."

~ Darcy (1st lyric) basically being to Iorda, "Don't you just wanna go ape shit?" Don't you want to stop pretending? Is this role what you really want?

~ Iorda (2nd lyric) once again tries to keep herself and her facade together.

"Talked about everything, spoke about so many things."

~ Iorda, funnily enough, has given Darcy information not even the Winx know accidentally, or because the witch can hardly judge her. Through the occasional banter-filled argument when battles weren't going on, to even silent signs Darcy had noticed.

~ Hell, even Iorda down the line notices some things about Darcy through little misplaced words hidden by insults. Iorda can guess that the Trix's lives were hardly pleasant.

"Closer than anything, closer than anything."

~ The two of them are the magical balances of each other, so this lyric shows that. Also like... Iorda is hardly understood by anybody. Darcy, even though they're still enemies, understands her on a somewhat deep level. Also lol down the line after Iorda joins the coven they do fall in love (I'M SORRY THE GAY DEAMONS DID THIS).

"Fill my glass, let's drink a toast. This is our birthday, so why are we weeping?"

~ This also mirrors the cup and liquid imagery in the art. Iorda's yellow water (representing light) going into Darcy's cup represents (mainly in my S.S.S. fanfiction, different than the Decent AU) Iorda trying to convince Darcy that she is a good person who is deserving of things.

~ Also, down the line (Decent AU) the two little shits love each other, and Iorda tries to show that. She will shove love and appreciation down the witch's throat. It also shows how Iorda tries to change all the darkness inside herself into light, but the darkness keeps coming back.

~ Darcy's cup spilling out black liquid shows how (S.S.S.) she doesn't immediately accept the idea that she's a good person, instead thinking that she doesn't deserve much.

~ In the Decent AU, she's trying to convince Iorda that the darkness inside her isn't bad. Its who she is, and so she keeps trying to give that idea to Iorda with failure. She is confident in having dark magic and isn't ashamed of that.

"I wake up first, and I stare at you sleeping."

~ Darcy already has been 'woken up' from the life of lies and false pleasantries long ago since she was a child. Meanwhile, Iorda is still in denial.

"Why don't you let me free? 'Cause you'd never dare to be."

~ Iorda (1st lyric) is mainly feeling conflicted about why Darcy can't just leave her be in her denial and lies. The witch keeps trying to tell her backhandedly that it's a lie, and that she's more witch than fairy even with the pair of wings on her back.

~ Darcy (2nd lyric) on the other hand, saying that Iorda has never really been herself or even tried to.

"I'm just reminiscing. (Just stop reminiscing)."

~ Iorda stays in her lies, and Darcy trying to say to her 'just stop forcing yourself to be someone you're not."

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This is the gayest art I have ever made istg. But I love it so much and how much lore it represents for these two.