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songforeddiemunson · 8 months

Note

Can you please do a Eddie X virgin reader where there has always been romance and they never acted on it until they confess when there watching a film and then a couple weeks after they make out then have soft sex

Thank you so much for the request!! I made some minor adjustments because that's just the route the narrative took me, but I hope you like it! I'm SO sorry this took so long, it's been a nutty few weeks.

NEXT SUMMER

Eddie Munson x Fem!Virgin!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB for inclusivity)

Summary: Eddie meets a cousin of the Wheelers who is visiting for the summer, and falls head over heels. The problem is, she lives in Chicago, and needs to return in the fall. Can they handle it?

Warnings/Tropes: longing with a bit of angst, fluffy affection, romantic soft smut, mild language, aftercare, mostly this is just really sweet.

Word Count: 5517

August 1990

You first caught Eddie’s eye on a late summer evening, standing under the twinkling lights of carnival rides at the county fair. It was the sort of cotton candy sky just moments before the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of another august day. The droning cicadas were rapidly giving way to the cricket’s song, but all of those innocuous details faded away as Eddie watched you as you waited in line for the Scrambler, talking and laughing with your companion.

Eddie’s heart nearly leapt in his throat when he saw that the person you were speaking with was someone he actually knew. Nancy Wheeler! his brain screamed, and before he realized what he was doing, his feet were carrying him forward as if he was on autopilot, such was your magnetism.

Nancy caught sight of Eddie as he approached, and her face broke out into a broad grin. “Eddie!” she exclaimed with delight. “It’s so great to see you!” She hugged him as you stood by, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“Likewise, Wheeler,” Eddie replied fondly, and when his eyes slipped to you, your heart nearly ceased its rhythm. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and all you could do was stare wordlessly at the handsome man who evidently was a friend to Nancy.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was experiencing the same physical paralysis under your gaze.

“Eddie! You have to meet my little cousin! She goes by Ivy, but her name is–”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, cutting Nancy off. Blood rushed to your cheeks in mortification. “I am not little, I’m twenty years old now!’

Nancy giggled fondly. “Well sure, but you’ll always be little to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m only two years younger than you, but whatever.”

Eddie laughed, and your cheeks pinkened even more. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” you said. You struggled to meet his eyes; it was like staring at the sun.

“It’s good to meet you too Ivy, if– if you don’t mind me calling you that.”

You smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Please do.”

And so you spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and Nancy, keeping things oh so casual but feeling like you might die every time he looked at you. You remained aloof because, after all, you didn’t even live in Hawkins, and eventually you’d have to return home to the city.

When Eddie first learned that you would be returning to Chicago at the end of the summer, he was crestfallen but struggled to mask it.

“I’m sure Chicago is really cool,” he said with forced bravado. “Way cooler than boring old Hawkins.”

“Oh but I love coming here,” you breathed enthusiastically. “Chicago is cool and all, but this is so nice. I love smelling the mown grass, and being able to go to the drive-in movie theater, and all that great summertime stuff.” You gestured around you. “And the county fair! I love coming to the fair.”

Eddie smiled despite his growing sadness. “You make it sound pretty nice. But really it’s just cornfields…”

“...I love corn,” you countered.

“And strip malls…”

“.....strip malls always have video stores, and I love movies.” you said with a grin.

Nancy returned from buying a candy apple.

You pointed at her. “Candy apples! I can’t buy candy apples in Chicago.”

“Hmm?” she replied, confused, chewing. “I’m sure you can buy candle apples in Chicag–”

“Not from the fair though,” you interrupted. “They’re better from the fair.”

“Point taken,” Eddie said with a chuckle, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I do still want to jump in a creek though,” you said wistfully.

“Gross, no. There are leeches,” Nancy said.

“Not in creeks,” Eddie laughed. “Ponds, maybe. But creeks are fine.”

And so the evening wound down. You and Eddie went back and forth over the virtues of city vs country living, but Eddie had to admit, you did have a way of making Hawkins sound pretty great. When it was time to part ways, Eddie desperately wanted to kiss you, so much that his lips nearly burned from the need, but he refrained. What would a girl like you ever see in a guy like him?

Two days later, on a late Sunday morning, where the summer sun shone relentlessly through a bluebird sky, Eddie picked up the phone and dialed the Wheeler’s number with a shaking hand.

Mike answered, sounding like he just woke up.

“Mehllo?” he mumbled by way of answer.

“Mike! It’s Eddie.”

“Munson?!” that seemed to wake him up. “Dude! It’s been forever!”

“Yeah man! How are you doing?”

“Oh things are good, I’m going off to college next month, and–”

“Is your cousin around? Ivy?” Eddie blurted anxiously, covering his face in embarrassment over the way he must have sounded. “Sorry man, it’s just that I need to ask her something. I would love to catch up with you though! Before you head to school; we should get together.”

“Yeah definitely,” Mike responded, unbothered. "We’ll catch up. I’ll go get Ivy….”

Eddie heard the handset thump against whatever surface Mike set it upon, and heard him call your name. He faintly heard your voice respond, which made Eddie’s already hammering heart pick up its pace. More fumbling noises ended with a slightly breathless, “Hello? Eddie?”

“Hi Ivy,” he replied, and you thought maybe you could hear a smile in his voice. “Wanna go jump in a creek?”

Your summertime in Hawkins was coming to a close; in only a few days’ time you were due to return to Chicago and university. As the final days ticked away, a ball of sadness gradually grew in the pit of your stomach. It was the best summer ever, and you were sorry to see its end.

Since the night you met him at the fair, Eddie had taken you cliff jumping into the Bear Creek, something that simultaneously terrified and thrilled you, leaving you more exhilarated than you have felt in a long while. But when you weren’t jumping, you simply floated in the water, watching the dappled sun dance across its surface, loving life.

Eddie also took you to the drive-in theater. It wasn’t a date, since he didn’t technically ask you out like that, and Nancy and Mike also insisted on tagging along. You lined camping chairs up in front of the van and rolled down the windows with the sound up loud so you could all sit together. It was a lovely, balmy night of watching Total Recall, and you ate too many skittles while swatting mosquitoes. It was perfect.

And now summer was ending and it was time to go, and you couldn’t possibly want to return to Chicago less. Why did you have to meet Eddie now?

You sighed as you packed up your things, folding clothes and setting them in your suitcase slowly, unmotivated. Nancy perched on the side of your bed, watching.

“You seem really bummed out,” Nancy remarked.

“I guess I’m not looking forward to going home. I wish I could stay a bit longer.” you replied, not bothering to hide your low mood.

“Would this have anything to do with a certain long-haired boy that lives on the other side of town?” Nancy prodded. It’s not like you were hiding anything.

“That obvious? And he’s twenty-four, he’s not a boy.”

Nancy nodded, with a giggle. “Fair enough.”

“And…maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like he’s kissed me or asked me out properly....” You stalled your packing, and you folded and unfolded the same sweater over and over while you let your thoughts wander.

“But you want him to?” Nancy prodded gently after a moment.

You sighed. “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of all I can think about actually,” you added with a wistful chuckle. “But what’s the point when I live all the way in Chicago the other nine months of the year?” You flopped down dramatically on the bed with a huff.

“Maybe you can talk on the phone and stuff throughout the year, and pick up where you left off next summer?”

“Long distance?” You allowed a glimmer of hope to creep in. “Do you think that could work?”

Nancy shrugged. “I did it with Jonathan when he moved to California. It’s not easy, but it can work.”

You hitched a deep sigh. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy replied.

The sky was overcast as you loaded the last of your bags into the back of the Wheeler’s car, matching your mood. You hugged Mike and Karen goodbye; Ted and Nancy were going to ride with you to the train station. You scanned the empty suburban streets for Eddie, but he was nowhere to be seen, causing your heart to sink even lower.

Just as you were about to climb into the backseat, you heard a sound that pulled your attention toward the woods at the edge of the neighborhood. There was some rustling and you saw that the flora was jostling about. What the–

Eddie suddenly materialized from the trees, calling, “Wait!” as he trotted over toward you. Your heart reversed its previous downward trajectory with haste, and happiness soared through you so abruptly and completely that you thought you might fall over.

“I cut through the woods,” Eddie stated breathlessly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it.”

“Just in time,” you grinned.

Ted poked his head out of the car’s driver window. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going.”

“Oh– Okay, I won’t take long,” Eddie stammered slightly. “I just wanted to say good bye and ask you…is it okay if I call you?”

You struggled to contain your delight at the suggestion. “Yes Eddie, I would really love that.” You pulled a small notepad from your purse, jotted your number down, and tore the scrap of paper out before handing it over. “Don’t lose this.”

Eddie had the fleeting thought that he would have your digits tattooed on his flesh to ensure their permanence. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Ted honked the horn, even though you were all standing right there.

“Okay, well I have to go. Call me tomorrow?”

Eddie nodded, his throat suddenly gone dry. “I will.”

As you sat down and closed the car door behind you, Ted wasted no time pulling away. You twisted around in the seat to watch Eddie grow smaller as the distance increased. He raised a hand and waved shortly before you went around a bend, causing you to lose sight of him.

The temporary high of seeing Eddie was quickly supplanted by sadness. It was going to be a very long wait for next summer.

June 1991

Once you were clear of the train platform, your rolling suitcase and duffle bag appropriately situated, you bolted through the crowd as quickly as possible.

Nine long months you waited. Nine months of speaking on the phone for hours nearly every night, talking about everything, watching movies together, helping Eddie write his next D&D campaign, discussing books. You shared hopes, dreams, wishes, and desires. Nine months of longing. Nine months of imagining his lips on yours, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, picturing him doing things to you that you’d never done with anyone before. You were tired of waiting.

You never officially declared yourselves to each other, still hadn’t even kissed, so you couldn’t be completely sure that he felt the same way. But you had a pretty good idea; after all, would a guy spend that much time on the phone with you if he didn’t feel some kind of way? He said he was going to pick you up at the train station after all, so that had to count for something.

You were determined. Eddie would not slip through your fingers; this summer was going to change everything.

And there he was. As you entered the terminal with the other passengers, you spotted him immediately. He was leaning up against the wall, torn tight jeans and black band tee, long chestnut curls cascading around his shoulders. He was beautiful.

The way his face lit up when he spotted you could probably heal the world, if you could find a way to harness it.

You let your bags drop to the ground as you ran to him, and he opened his arms to you as you collided with him, slamming him back against the wall. His arms slid up around your back and gripped you tightly, his breath fanned across one ear, setting all your senses alight, and you simply resided in his embrace and felt the object of your affection absolutely envelop you. Oh how you had waited for this.

You pulled away just enough to look at his face. He was undeniably very happy, eyes bright, smiling broadly, his dimple making itself known.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hi you,” you replied.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I've been counting the minutes,” you said. You thought maybe you were going to cry.

“Try seconds,” he whispered, opening his eyes wide as if he was revealing a scandalous secret.

The rest of the bustling train station faded away. The voices and echoes were reduced to a muffled din, and all the people who hastened past you became less corporeal. As your eyes roamed his face, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

He blinked and pulled away, and as soon as it started, the spell was broken.

He hastened over to your bags and grabbed hold of them, slinging your duffel over his shoulder and taking your rollbag in one hand. “Let’s go,” he said with a look over his shoulder, his hair bouncing as he hurried through the terminal with you in tow. He slowed as he approached the doors to outside. “Uh, I’ll take you to the Wheeler’s to settle in, but I wondered…” He paused, his expression belying his own lack of confidence. He looked almost shy. “I got an apartment about a month back, finally…a space of my own,” he continued. “I wondered if maybe you wanted to watch a movie later?”

“Eddie!” you breathed, excited. “That’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said with a small shrug. “No pressure, if you don’t want to. I just wanted to put it out there, no strings attached.”

“I would love to,” you beamed.

“Do you want to know what movie I picked out?” Eddie asked.

“I really don’t care,” you replied, and you laughed together as you walked to the parking lot.

You waited anxiously for Eddie’s arrival later that evening.

“It’s a daaaate!” Mike sang as if he was still fourteen and not a freshman in college. Nancy slapped him on the arm.

“Don’t tease,” she admonished, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

“It is not a date!” you countered as you checked your reflection for the thousandth time. “Doesn’t someone have to say it’s a date for it to actually be a date?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Some things are just sort of….assumed.”

You and Nancy glared at him in tandem. “Uh, no thank you. Nobody should make assumptions about anything like that,” Nancy scolded.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I mean, what if he just thinks I’m a great friend, and I go and spoil everything going in there thinking this is a date?”

Mike gestured toward you as you touched up your lip gloss. “Says the chick who has been fussing over her appearance obsessively for the last 45 minutes.”

“I’m just being prepared,” you said.

“For what?” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Just in case it is a date. I never said I didn’t want it to be.”

Nancy laughed as Mike groaned in exasperation. Fortunately, you were saved from further discussion by the doorbell. You ran from the room before anyone could stop you, grabbing your shoulder bag on the way.

You opened the door and revealed a slightly nervous looking Eddie, and he nearly stole your breath away.

Eddie was resplendent in a blue and black plaid button-up shirt with his black jeans and black converse sneakers. He had clearly made an effort to tame his hair, and his waves were soft and tidy. His breath caught when he saw you.

“H– hi,” he said with a grin.

“Hi yourself,” you said. You chanced a look over your shoulder, fearful of an audience. “Okay let’s go before Mike and Nancy get weird and interrogate us,” you said, grabbing Eddie by the hand and making him laugh while shutting the door behind you. Eddie held his van door open for you before walking around the other side and starting up the engine. Was that aftershave he was wearing?

Butterflies exploded in your chest. Oh my god, this is a date, you thought to yourself elatedly.

Eddie’s place was nice, simple, and clean. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture or decor yet, but he had the basics, and it was all his.

You were halfway through Goodfellas– which was really good– and sipping on bud light bottles on opposite ends of the couch. You were sitting with your legs curled underneath you, your left foot sticking out along the couch cushion. Eddie reached over and gently laid a hand on your ankle, pulling your attention away from the film.

“I’m gonna grab another beer. You want anything?”

“Sure, you want me to pause it?”

“Nah, I’ve seen this twice already,” he said as he headed to the kitchen.

“Eddie!” you said, smiling. “Why didn’t you rent something you’ve never seen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he called. “I love this movie.”

You picked up the remote and paused the film anyway.

“But it just came out on VHS!” you said, laughing. "How have you seen it multiple times already?"

He returned with two freshly opened beers and handed one to you. He sat down again, a little closer this time.

“What– you don’t watch movies over and over again every chance you get? Is that…like….not normal or something?” He smirked at his own sarcasm.

“Not that quickly I’m afraid,” you said, and he laughed out loud.

“I guess I’m a bit of a fixator,” he said. “I fixate on things.”

“I suppose we all have things we fixate on,” you said.

“What do you fixate on?” He asked. He was leaning slightly in your direction. It made your heart speed up a little bit.

“Well lately,” you said, drawing out your syllables and pretending to think really hard about it. “Lately it’s been this guy.”

“Oooh,” Eddie said. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he looks a little rough around the edges, but it turns out that he’s the sweetest.”

“He is?” Eddie played along.

“Oh yes. And he has the biggest, most soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s always seeing the world in new and interesting ways. And don’t get me started on his lips…”

“What about his lips?” Eddie asked.

“They’re so full and plump, like fruit, and I want to nibble on them.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh. “You want to nibble on his lips?”

“Among other things,” you said, a little breathily.

As your eyes flicked down to his lips, he licked them unconsciously, and you knew everything was about to change.

Eddie leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and he raised his right hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you forward. You felt his breath fan across your cheek as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“What other things did you have in mind?” he murmured.

“I want him,” you said simply. “But I don’t know how he feels.”

“Hmm,” Eddie cooed. “I think it’s safe to say he wants you too.”

“He does?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed, and then he kissed you.

Your breathing hitched– it was finally happening.

You enjoyed the simple feeling of his beautiful lips against yours for a moment before you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. You slotted his bottom lip between your teeth and applied gentle pressure. Eddie’s quiet gasp did things to you.

You chuckled, and rose up on your knees before pressing your body firmly against his, the movie now forgotten.

Eddie broke away, beaming. “I thought you probably felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure, and I was afraid to make a move and fuck it all up–”

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you said.

He did as he was told. He also dialed up the passion, and you kissed each other hungrily, pouring nine months of longing into your efforts. Your tongues danced together, your hands roamed the expanse of his back, and you slid one hand up and under his shirt to feel his flesh.

Eddie gasped at your touch, and pulled away. His pupils were blown wide from the excitement, and you imagined that yours might look the same. He cupped the side of your face in his hands, boring his eyes into yours.

“Are we together? Are you mine?” he asked, and your heart broke and soared with equal measure at the sheer sweet earnestness of him.

“Yes, Eddie,” was all you could muster before he was kissing you again. He tipped you back and gently laid you down across the sofa, allowing his hand to travel up the length of your torso, keeping things chaste, but only barely.

You laid together and kissed deeply for a time, until you decided you’d had enough.

“Eddie,” you said. “T– take me to bed.”

“Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t hide your nerves, and he gently pinched your chin to tilt your head up. “You seem anxious,” he said softly.

“Well, I – I haven’t actually done it before.”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly.

“I’ve done some stuff, a little hand stuff mostly, but never, uh– it. Sex. I’ve never had sex.”

Eddie smiled affectionately at your display of nerves. “Relax, babe. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

“But I am ready,” you said, more assuredly. “I really want to do this with you. I want you to be my first.”

Eddie searched your face for any further signs of nervousness or unease, but all he saw in your eyes now was conviction and honestly. You reached up a hand and laid it on his cheek.

“Nine months I’ve waited for this. I knew a long time ago that you were the one, Eddie. I’ve waited long enough.’

Eddie nodded. “Okay,” he said softly.

He moved to stand and gently scooped you up in his arms, making you giggle, and he carried you over to the bedroom. He kicked the door open with his foot, making you laugh some more, and laid you on his bed, which was clean if unmade. He leaned down and braced himself on either side of your body to kiss you.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” he said between kisses, and then stood back up to pull his shirt over his head. He did it in one fluid motion, letting his soft curls dance across his shoulders and back, and he was a sight to behold. You’d seen him with no shirt on last summer when he took you swimming, but somehow this was different.

“May I?” he asked, and paused with his fingers above the fly of your denim shorts. You nodded, and let Eddie loosen the buttons before pulling your shorts down along your legs and tossing them aside.

You smiled up at him as he loosened his own jeans and pushed them down before stepping out of them, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers. He returned to the bed and laid next to you, gently trailing one palm up your body and pushing up your shirt, resting it at the bottom of your ribcage just below the underwire of your bra. Eddie resumed kissing you; it was something you were quite sure you would never tire of. He was amazing.

After a beat he pulled away to look down at you. “I need to get you ready,” he said softly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Okay Eddie,” you replied. He pulled your shirt over your head gently, and then moved one hand to your back to unclasp your bra.

“You seem to have some experience with this,” you said, feeling a stab of self-consciousness.

Eddie paused. “A little. I’m not a virgin, but I’m hardly a Casanova or anything…”

“It’s okay, I don’t need to know.” you looked away.

Eddie was not pleased with the loss of eye-contact, and he could sense your discomfort.

“Hey,” he said softly, turning your face to his. “It’s only been a couple different girls. I really haven’t had much action for a guy my age, trust me. And nothing serious, ever.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re special. I want this– I want it to be special.”

You relaxed and smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.”

“Okay then.”

He pulled your loosened bra off, leaving you in only your knickers. “If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Your answering smile was cut short as he bent and placed a kiss on your nipple. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before he sucked the little bud between his lips, setting all your senses alight.

“Oh–that feels nice.” you sighed.

As Eddie suckled you, he slowly trailed his hand down the length of your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He paused at the elastic of your underwear, slipping one finger just under the thin white band, but continued no further.

“You can– ah– you can touch me Eddie,” you managed between gasps.

With no further preamble, he slowly slid his hand into the delicate cotton, and his fingers found your heat. He removed his mouth from your nipple, leaving it feeling cool and bereft, before kissing you lasciviously as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped, but as quickly as he had entered, he was gone again. He dipped in smoothly a second time, but then turned his attention to your clit, applying gentle pressure and circling it with his moistened finger.

You arched your back and moaned at the sensation. Your senses were heightened, your heart was racing, and you couldn’t believe that you were here, with Eddie, after all this time. You were delighted; you’d waited so long for this, and you were going to enjoy it.

Eddie slowly picked up the pace and pressure of his ministrations. You felt as if all the blood in your body was rushing to the space between your legs, and your body began to tremble. It felt good– damn good. You could hear the wet sounds of your arousal as his fingers picked up speed, and then, without warning, he slid one back inside of you. You moaned as he pumped you with one finger, sliding out, stroking the sensitive button of nerves, pushing back in. You were teetering on the edge of climax when, suddenly, he stopped.

“Wha–” you said blearily, as Eddie padded over to his nightstand.

“I’m just grabbing a rubber babe,” Eddie smiled, as he pulled open the drawer and held up a foil square.

“Ah, right.”

“Just want to be careful, ya know?”

“Of course.”

Eddie paused to look at you, his face painted with adoration and concern. “You sure you’re still okay with this?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yeah, yes.”

Eddie looked angelic. Flushed with desire, his hair slightly mussed, lips reddened from kissing, his boxers tented by his arousal. He walked around the bed to stand at the end, and he gently pulled your underwear off, leaving you fully exposed for the first time. You had to fight to resist the urge to curl into yourself protectively. You weren’t the only naked one for long, however, as Eddie pushed his boxers down, and you were able to see all of him for the first time.

He was beautiful. He was perfect.

He deftly rolled the rubber along his length before he laid down next to you, and let his fingers return to your heat. He leaned down and kissed your neck while he worked you open, this time with two fingers. He slid them inside as he kissed your lips and licked into your mouth, and then he gently climbed on top, allowing you to rest your calves around his hips.

You felt his tip prod your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he breathed into your ear.

“Yes,” you said, and he captured your earlobe with his teeth as he slowly started to push in.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried softly. It felt like white fire had ignited where you were joined and traveled up your body, settling behind your eyes, and a kaleidoscope of sparks clouded your vision. You squeezed your eyes shut and ground your teeth together as you moaned through the sensation. It hurt, but it was a sort of pain you’d never felt before.

“God, babe,” Eddie gasped as another shallow, gentle thrust pulled him deeper. “This okay?”

It wasn’t okay exactly, it stung like hell, but it was okay because this was Eddie, and there was nobody else on the planet you were willing to experience this with.

“Uhhuh, yeah,” you panted. “I’m okay.”

Eddie sat back on his heels and grasped your thighs with his hands, pulling you flush against him and seating himself fully inside of you. His eyes met yours and he smiled at you adoringly as he began to move.

You moaned in sweet agony as each thrust ignited new fires within you, but before you realized what was happening, the pain began to give way to intense pleasure. Your gasps of pain grew to cries of ecstasy, and Eddie could feel you yield to him, could feel the resistance temper, and he delighted in watching the change come over you. White fire was replaced by pure bliss.

He lifted your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, and picked up his pace.

Eddie hugged your legs to his chest as he pumped, every thrust hitting deep, the mingled gasps and cries of your lovemaking growing in volume and timbre. You reached out a hand to touch his chest, but he was too far away. Eddie noticed this, and he released your legs to lean forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your shoulders, and he kissed you. It was damn hot, the passion of it all, making out so intensely that your teeth clattered together as he fucked you, all of your senses heightened and electrified.

You scratched at his back as your felt your climax building, causing his own pace to falter. Your cries of delight as you came caused his own orgasm to crash into him suddenly, and you both moaned as you rode it out together.

And then all was still.

You breathed together as you came down from the intense sensations you had just experienced, and you could feel Eddie’s heart beating in its cage, his chest pressed against yours. He could feel yours too.

After a moment, he got up, discarded the used condom, and slipped on his boxers, smiling down at your prone, naked body as he did so. “Was that okay? It didn’t hurt too much?”

You thought for a second. “It did hurt at first, that probably can’t be helped. But after a little while, it felt really good. Was I– was I any good?”

Eddie beamed. “Oh babe. You don’t have to ever worry about that. It was incredible.” He headed to the bathroom, and returned shortly with a damp washcloth. He sat beside you and gently tended to your sore, sensitive area. The cool terrycloth was soothing, and he peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle. He tossed the washcloth aside and laid down with you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

“Do you want to stay here with me? You can, if you want,” Eddie murmured into your hair. He sounded sleepy.

“Eddie, I want to be wherever you are,” you replied. You were feeling quite drowsy yourself.

“I don’t want the Wheelers to think I kidnapped you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“They know where I am, and we’re all adults, so I’m staying put.”

Eddie grinned. You had no way of knowing what was happening in his heart, but he wished he could transfer part of his joy to you, so you could feel even a fraction of his elation.

Eddie had no way of knowing that you were feeling exactly the same way. He also had no way of knowing that you were planning to transfer to Indiana State in the fall. In time, you would share your hearts fully with each other, but for the moment, you enjoyed just laying in his arms, and drifting off into blissful slumber.

Together. ♥

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MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #my writing

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gentle-forest-daddy · 9 months

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The Tantrum (Part 3)

A three-part ABDL romance. All characters are 18+. CW: Diapers, Spanking, Bondage, Messing, Wetting

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Katelyn’s eyes popped open as Ryan buckled her into the chair, tied down her mittens again and locked a tray across her lap. She took in the kitchen, the two steaming plates on the table, and how much higher off the ground she was than their normal chairs. They’d talked about a highchair, but she didn’t know Ryan had actually gotten one.

Her pacifier still filled her mouth, but she managed a frustrate whine that she hoped said What about my diaper?

Like he could understand her toddler sounds, which maybe he did, Ryan replied “Your supper is going to get cold and yucky if we wait, so daddy will change you after you’re done eating.”

Katelyn felt the tears coming back and did nothing to hide them. Her mess was starting to cool and the high chair had squished it around even more.

“Shhhh, you’re okay baby,” Ryan said, running a hand through her hair. “I promise I’ll get you all cleaned up as soon as you’ve had some supper. I need you to be my good girl, okay? Do you trust me?”

Katelyn looked up at him through her teary eyes. She did trust him, and she desperately wanted to be a good girl.

“Besides, I’m sure you must be getting pretty hungry.”

Her tummy picked that moment to growl in agreement, making Katelyn giggle along with Ryan, in spite of her stinky situation.

“Alright, I’m going to take your paci out,” Ryan said, reaching behind her head for the buckle.

The absence of the soothing bulb was strange. Without thinking, she tried to bring her thumb up to her mouth, only to be stopped by the rope keeping her hands in her lap.

Ryan set a plate down on the highchair’s tray, and for moment, Katelyn smiled at the sight of her favourite pad thai. Then she noticed all the greens and other veggies tangled in the noodles, way more than she would ever go for. Not to mention bits of orange carrot.

Katelyn was trying to be on her best behaviour, but she couldn’t help kicking legs and wrinkling her nose at a perfectly good meal ruined in the name of health. She looked up at Ryan, who met her pout with a stern look.

“I promise it’s gonna be the best pad thai you’ve ever tasted,” he said, getting a forkful ready.

A mean comment came to mind, one she might have actually said a few hours ago with a glass wine behind her, but Katelyn banished it, even if she couldn’t quite wipe the pout off her face.

“Alright, open wide for daddy.”

Katelyn opened her mouth the bare minimum required, bracing for a disgusting carrot-y taste, but instead perking up as soon as the food hit her tongue.

She couldn’t help the “Mmmmm!” that escaped as the sweet, salty, nutty flavour mixed with a pleasant crunch in her mouth.

“Does Katie approve?” Ryan said, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Mmm hmm!” Katelyn beamed, crankiness melting away with good food in her belly.

It took no time at all to clean her plate, Katelyn opening her mouth extra wide in hopes of getting bigger bites, both of them laughing when the occasional noodle landed on her chest.

Ryan untied her mittens but left them on before taking her plate away and heading over to the fridge. He came back with a baby bottle full of water, which Katelyn was more than happy to drink after the salty meal.

He was still busy with the dishes by the time the water was gone, and she kicked her legs again with a whine.

“Daaaaddy.”

Ryan looked over at her, failing to hold back a grin at the sight of his adorable fiance sitting in her high chair. “What is it princess?”

The words felt too big, too embarrassing, so Katelyn just whined again and pointed at her diaper.

“Ah, I almost forgot someone needs a change,” Ryan said, taking some pleasure in the blush appearing on her face. “I guess the dishes can wait, there’s a bigger mess that needs taking care of.”

At that comment, Katelyn hid behind her mittens.

She heard Ryan disappear for a moment, then there he was, freeing her from the highchair and untying the rest of the rope still wound around her. As soon as he was done, she had her hands raised up towards him, ready to carried away, and Ryan happily obliged.

Still a little suspicious, Katelyn kept her eyes open this time, but was relieved when Ryan brought her back to the bathroom and carefully set her down a towel waiting on the floor. She laid back, as much to take some weight off her sore messy butt as it was to speed up the process, and wished again she had her paci back.

Ryan fiddled with the tub beside her and the room filled with the sound of rushing water, making Katelyn happy wiggle at the thought of a hot bath.

“Alright stinky girl, let’s get you cleaned up,” Ryan teased.

Katelyn covered her face again as he reached for the tapes, suddenly not feeling so wiggly. As the last tape came off, she tensed, bracing for the disgusted scoff or maybe some gagging.

But even as the smell washed over her, all she heard was Ryan’s sing-songy voice tell her what a big mess she’d made. Her was face still rosy with embarrassment, but there was also a little smile as Ryan told her what a good girl she was and gently wiped her bottom. Before long, Katelyn felt clean and fresh, more than she thought possible without a shower.

After throwing out her well-used diaper, Ryan guided Katelyn’s hands away from her face and took off the mittens, the fresh air feeling good on her skin. Still feeling shy, she let Ryan help her to her feet and held his hand as she stepped into the tub.

The heat was heavenly and she sank down into it with a sigh. Katelyn let her eyes close for a moment, taking it in, when she heard a splash.

In front of her floated a yellow rubber ducky, and she felt herself gasp in delight. She hadn’t had a rubber ducky since she’d been young enough to watch Ernie sing about his friend on Sesame Street, but more than once during an after-work soak she’d thought about how unfair it was that adults couldn’t have company in the bath.

Ryan chuckled as she looked up at him with a huge smile.

“Do you like it?”

Katelyn made a big nod, holding her ducky snug against her cheek.

While Katelyn played with her duck, declaring him Herald, Ryan grabbed a wash cloth and scrubbed her down and washed her hair, stopping briefly to swap the thumb that made its way into her mouth for a fresh pacifier.

She wasn’t ready to be done playing when Ryan pulled the plug, but he let her hold on to Herald while he dried her off with a fluffy towel.

Soon she found herself bundled back in Ryan’s arms as he carried her to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper was waiting for her on the bed. This time she watched Ryan work, lifting her legs and sliding her new diaper under her, rubbing in the too-cold cream and top it off with a healthy amount of baby powder.

The crinkly bulk felt different this time. It felt like safety. It felt like love.

Katelyn sat up, her pacifier bobbing slightly between her lips. Words were still the realm of big girl Katelyn, so she just held her arms up again at Ryan.

“Someone’s really liking being picked up, huh?” he said, laughing.

He bent down and pulled something out from under the bed.

“Let’s get this on you first, baby.”

He held up a simple pink onesie with “Daddy’s Girl” written in a heart across the front, and Katelyn giggled at the sight of it and raised her arms again.

With his fiance properly dressed, Ryan scooped her up again, and Katelyn lost herself in the feeling of being held. She was too tired for thought, too tired for all of the day’s emotions. This was cozy oblivion, better than any she’d found in a bottle of wine.

She was vaguely aware of Ryan carrying her through the house. Soon she felt him sit down, shifting her onto his lap, her arms and legs still wrapped around his body, her head resting on his shoulder. Katelyn relaxed deeper into the embrace, all tension escaping in one big sigh, not giving it a second thought when she let her bladder go too. Her diaper grew warmer, something she knew she ought to feel ashamed of, but that wasn’t possible when she was daddy’s girl.

******

Katelyn wasn’t sure how long she slept, but the patch of drool on Ryan’s shoulder told her it must have been a while.

It was dark, the sun’s light long gone and replaced with the cool white of streetlights shining through their living room windows, casting ominous shadows on the floor. Katelyn had been scared of the dark for a long time. Meeting Ryan had pushed her to put on a brave face, but she still hated being the last one up, always running to the bedroom after turning out the last light.

She listened to his steady breathing. She didn’t like those shadows, but she felt safe in his arms.

The urge to pee was back and Katelyn did her best to just let go, but found it harder to relax this time around. At some point in her sleep she’d lost her pacifier, so she brought her thumb to mouth instead and focused on her breathing. Eventually she felt a slow stream start to trickle out, her diaper swelling again as fresh warmth spread around her bottom.

She couldn’t help squirming a little, and she felt Ryan reach up and pet her hair, her instant relax button. His other hand patted her bottom and she squirmed a bit more, realizing how obvious her pottying had been.

“Did you have a good nap, princess?”

Katelyn nodded against his shoulder and hummed in reply.

Ryan stretched and yawned before reaching over to turn on a lamp. They both blinked at the sudden light, but instead of brightening the mood, Katelyn felt Ryan tense. Her diaper squished as he sat her up on his lap. He had his serious face on.

“I’ve been thinking … we need to talk about what happened today. What’s been happening a lot of days.”

Katelyn’s stomach dropped, the soothing cocoon of littleness receding and a tide of guilt rushing into its place. She nodded, her thumb making its way back to her mouth, only this time just to chew the nail.

Ryan looked around the room, like he always did whenever he was thinking about what to say. Katelyn kept her own eyes on buttons of his shirt, shifting in her soggy diaper. After a minute, he took her hands, and Katelyn met his tired gaze with her own anxious one.

“Today wasn’t the first tantrum. But today was the first time I felt like you were really losing control.”

Katelyn nodded, her eyes glued to his buttons again, blinking hard.

“I don’t need to tell you the wine has become a problem. But honestly, it’s not the drinking that bothers me most.” The sadness in his voice made Katelyn shrink inside.

“We don’t talk anymore. We don’t hug anymore. It’s probably been a year since you kissed me goodbye in the morning. Then every day, you come home miserable and cranky, and even though it’s obvious your job is eating you alive, you won’t talk to me about it.”

He squeezed her hands but Katelyn kept her eyes down, her jaw clamped shut, trying stop her lip from quivering.

“I want to help, Katie. More than anything, I want to be there for you, like always. But I can’t when you’d rather drink than talk to me.”

Katelyn tried to speak, but her voice caught in throat. She took a deep breath and tried again, giving up on stopping the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m s-so s-sorry,” she managed before the sobbing took over.

Ryan pulled her in and she cried into his shoulder, adding more moisture to the drool patch.

“I lost the Henderson account,” she said through tears.

“That file was w-why I got promoted. It was e-everything. I worked so hard for that job! I’ve been losing hair! And I fucked it up.”

Katelyn lost herself in sobs again, months of stress pouring out of her.

“I know I’ve been horrible. It’s been so overwhelming. When I get home I just want to forget my day.”

She pulled back to look Ryan in the face. Her damn lip wouldn’t stop quivering.

“But it’s not okay. And I’m really really sorry.”

Ryan cupped her face, and she closed her eyes as his thumbs wiped away the tear streaks.

“Apology accepted. But you’re right, it’s not okay, and things need to change.”

Katelyn nodded, sniffling, but finally feeling back in control of herself.

“The obvious thing is no more wine. It’s become too big a part of your life.”

It hurt to admit how much the thought of no alcohol scared her, but she focused on the love in Ryan’s eyes and nodded again.

“But more importantly, you need to start talking to me about these things, no matter how much you want to avoid it. And if not me, then somebody. Can you promise me that?”

That one was a lot easier. “I promise, Ryan.”

He hesitated before the next part, looking for his words again.

“The last thing is, I want you to seriously think about if this job is worth all the misery. There’s no question you earned that promotion, but it’s been buckets of stress since day one. I’ve got lots of work in my calendar for the next six months, so we won’t be hurting for money. You could take some time off, rest, and find something that makes you happy.”

It was Katelyn’s turn to search for words. Even on her hardest days, quitting had never felt like it was on the table.

“I … will think about it.”

Ryan nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

It was a lot to take in, but relief hit Katelyn all the same, and she hugged her fiance. She’d been braced for so much worse.

“I love you. And I promise I’m serious about this. No more tantrums. No more acting like a toddler.”

He hugged her back, crushing her in its fierceness, something she realized how much she’d missed.

“Well, funny you say that, there is one more thing I wanted to talk about.”

She pulled back, her eyebrows puzzling together at Ryan’s sudden shyness. He started tapping the armrest, laughing a bit at his own awkwardness.

“I actually really enjoyed babying you today. I know we always talked about doing a scene like this, but I hadn’t expected it to be so …”

He paused, searching for the word.

“Fulfilling? Loving? Intimate? All of the above? I just know I haven’t felt this close to you in a long time.”

Katelyn smiled at her fiance. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I know this is out of nowhere, but while you were napping, all I could think about was how much I wish we could do this every day. Us going to work, having normal adult lives, but you’re always daddy’s girl and daddy’s always there to take care of you.”

The idea took her by surprise, but what surprised her more was how much she wanted that.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to put that out there.”

The bit of rosiness on Ryan’s cheeks was adorable, and Katelyn leaned in for a long kiss he was all too happy to return.

“I’d have to think about it,” she said, even as her heart warmed at the thought of coming home to daddy every day. Of being a good girl.

“First though, can I get changed?”

Ryan smiled, the tension finally leaving him. “Of course, honey.”

This time he didn’t carry her, instead leading her by hand back to the bedroom. Four ripped tapes later, he had her wiped down in no time.

As Katelyn lay naked on the bed, she saw Ryan head over to their dresser and pull open her panty drawer. He hesitated, until he heard the love of his life call from behind him.

“Can I have another diaper, daddy?”

#ab/dl stories #ab/dl daddy #ab/dl diaper #ab/dl girl

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alpaca-clouds · 8 months

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Try to learn about the old foods

I have most recently started to meal prep, with making a lot of foods and putting them in the freezer. This ended up allowing me to buy the foods in bulk from the local market. And, well... This allowed me to eat some of the foods that the supermarket does not have.

We do have a bit of a problem. And that problem mostly is that we got our food kinda messed up. Because people have lost the connection to the food they eat. But also because of colonialism.

The big thing that happened is, that we lost contact with most local foods. No matter where I go in the "first world nations"... The foods offered to me in the supermarkets are the same - and they also look the same.

This means that a lot of people have no real idea, what foods came from where in the world - but also do not know half of the foods that originated with where they are from, because they are not easily available.

Tomatoes are an example. Not only did historical tomatoes look and taste very differently from the tomatoes we eat today, but obviously... they came from the Americas. So they are not a food that originated with Europe and was not widely available in Europe until the 1600s. While, yes, the first tomates came here more than a hundred years earlier... it took a while for them to catch on.

This is parsnip. Another root vegetable that was commonly eaten in Europe for most of history. It has a more intensive taste than the usual carrot - but is also not that different from it, when it comes to consistency and how it is going to cook.

This is fennel. You might know fennel seeds as a spice or something you might drink as a tea. But the rest of the plant is edible, too, and a surprisingly strong flavored vegetable. It also is very crunchy and makes a really great addition to salads. But it is often not really sold in many places.

This is the Jerusalem Artichoke, another vegetable that originates within the Americas. To be exact, this is the root of a kind of sunflower. It got its name for being very similar in taste and tecture to the Artichoke. I honestly do not know, though, why it is called "Jerusalem Artichoke", because it does not have anything to do with Jerusalem.

The Potimarron is a kind of squash that - like basically all other forms of squash - originates in the Americas as well. It has a very nutty flavor. In Europe it was very popular in France for a long while, hence the french name. It has tons of meat and really makes for great stews!

This is a rutabaga, which originates from somewhere in northern Europe. We do not really know from where. All we know is, that it was a Swedish botanist who cultivates the form we still eat to this day in the 1620s. Which is why it is also called the "Swedish turnip". It does taste like a more bitter carrot, but makes really good addition to stews or can be served stamped.

This is the Chinese Artichoke and another root vegetable, that as the name suggest originates from China. It was cultivates in China in the late medieval period and has later made its way to Europe, especially France. It has a really sweet and nutty taste and can be eaten raw or in salads. Though there are dishes mashing the vegetable, too.

These are tigernuts, a vegetable that has been around forever. It originates in southern Europe, southern Asia and northern Africa. It is a dried fruit, with a sweet and earthy taste and it is known a lot in Spanish cuisine, but also in the cuisine of southern Asia.

Yacon is a root vegetable that originates with Peru, where it is still eaten, while the rest of the world mostly forgot about it. Well, except Japan, where it is currently getting more and more popular. It is a vegetable, but it has a very fruity taste.

I could now go on and name more vegetables from all around the world that were once grown and fed people, but got forgotten more and more in favor of the very limited diet made up of potatoes, corn, potatoes, peppers, cucumber, onion and tomatoes, that is basically what you will get to eat in most places.

And... Well, the thing about it is that... It is not really a good thing that we grow the same stuff everywhere. It is not good for us and it is not good for the environment. It is not good for those foods, either.

I really wish people would try and eat more of the stuff that originates with their region. And that they would eat the not-so-perfect looking foods as well. Because it is gonna be more sustainable in the end.

#solarpunk #food #vegetables #fruits #farming #agriculture #history #food history #sustainable living #sustainability #colonialism

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d3ad-on-arriva1 · 5 months

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MY NAME IS MY NAME IS MY NAME IS CHARLES SECOND I LOVE THE PEOPLE AND THE PEOPLE LOVE ME SO MUCH THAT THEY RESTORED THE ENGLISH MONARCHY I'M PART SCOTTISH, FRENCH, ITALIAN A LITTLE BIT DANE BUT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT PARTY ANIMAL CHAMPAGNE?? SPANIELS I ADORED NAMED AFTER ME TOO LIKE ME, THEY WERE FUN WITH A NUTTY HAIR DO! IS TODAY MY BIRTHDAY? I CAN'T RECALL LET'S HAVE A PARTY ANYWAY BECAUSE I LOVE A MASKED BALL!

ALL HAIL, THE KING! OF BLING! LET'S SING! BELLS RING! DING DING! I'M THE KING WHO BROUGHT BACK PARTYING! KING CHARLES, MY DADDY LOST HIS THRONE AND KINGS WERE BANNED THEY CHOPPED OFF HIS HEAD THEN OLLY CROMWELL RULED THE LAND OLD OLLY WASN'T JOLLY HE WAS GLUM, AND HE WAS PROUD WOULD BE MISERABLE AS SIN ONLY SINNING'S NOT ALLOWED! WHEN OLLY DIED, THE PEOPLE SAID 'CHARLIE, ME HEARTY! GET RID OF HIS DULL LAWS COME BACK, WE'D RATHER PARTY! 'THIS ACTION'S WHAT THEY CALLED THE MONARCHY RESTORATION WHICH NATURALLY WAS FOLLOWED BY A HUGE CELEBRATION!THE KING OF ENG! NO SIN! TOO SING! OR ANYTHING! ALL SAY, I'M THE KING WHO BROUGHT BACK PARTYING! GREAT LONDON FIRE WAS A WHOPPER! IN MY REIGN, LONDON CITY CAME A-CROPPER! SO THIS KING DID WHAT WAS RIGHT AND PROPER FOUGHT THE FIRE, PROVED I'M MORE THAN A BOPPER I'M A FIRE STOPPER! MARRIED CATHERINE BRAGANZA SHE WAS A LOVE SO TRUE THERE WOULD NEVER BE ANOTHER WELL... MAYBE ONE OR TWO! LUCY WALTER, NELL GWYNNE MOLL DAVIES, BARBARA VILLIERS YOU THINK THAT'S BAD BUT HER NAME'S NOT AS SILLY AS...HORTENSE MANCINI! AS KING, I MUST ADMIT I BROKE THE WEDDING RULES BUT WHO CARES WHEN I BROUGHT BACK THE CROWN JEWELS? I REINSTATED CHRISTMAS MAKE UP, SPORTS AND EVEN PLAYS I WAS THE MERRY MONARCH THEY WERE GOOD OLD DAYS!

WHEN SAID AND DONE! KING CHARLES DID RUN! ENGLAND FOR FUN! I WAS THE KING LOVED BY EVERYONE MY SONG IS DONE! party anyone?

#horrible histories #king of bling

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factual-fantasy · 6 months

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27 ASK :)))))🍤🍤🍤

I do not.. but man I really need to give them names. I intend to name my FNAF au before drawing Moon Malfunction 2.0. And my Deltarune AU... ehhh.. idk, I'll just see if anything comes to me <XD (I'm open to suggestions! :0 )

@eggswastaken

Thank you! But sorry, no fanart rule. I wouldn't like for anyone to draw my AUs Asgore.. Thank you for asking first though <:) A lot of people would have just drawn it and not have cared to ask.

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}}

@luna-purple454

AAA THANK YOU FELLOW ASGORE ENJOYER! XDD

As for his backstory I don't really have any new ideas.. but as for the future?

I have ideas of Asgore seeing other versions of people he used to know. And it really hurts him. Like maybe they pass by and AU where he sees a Toriel. And his heart just aches. Or he sees a Gerson or Gaster, and he just longs for those people. He misses them and it kills him that he cant ever go back home.

Imagine if he met a Toriel that hated Asgore, post murdering kids. And she understands that he's a different Asgore but she cant help but be cold towards him. That might hurt worse than just missing his family. Someone with his wife's face being indirectly disappointed in him. Ashamed of him, angry at him. He never did those things that her Asgore did. But she still glares at him out of habit. And that kills him more than anything. And don't even get me started when he hears about the horrible fates this AUs Asriel and Chara suffered.

I can imagine that like Grillby, his body becomes more unstable the more emotional he is. Maybe they walk through an AU where Asgore meets that Toriel. And by the time they're ready to leave Asgore is wrecked. Seeing all these people broke his spirit. His body has significantly dissolved and he can no longer walk. All he does is hang his head low and weep. Saying he cant move.. and he wants to go home..

Jevil might be able to take the whole group to another AU, despite Asgore's state. But likely they'd just camp out for an extra day or so until Asgore can pull himself back together..

Aw, I'm sorry you're sick, that's no fun. <:( But I'm glad my artwork is helping you feel a bit better :}}}

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Positively giddy my dear fellow

@elegysonnet

I haven't seen it yet, but it looks good and I plan to watch it! :0

@pinkbomb08

:D Thank you! Even if you have nothing to ask, I don't mind a nice message! :}}

@veeneeyyyy

Thank you! And hey man. Being down on yourself about your artwork is just gonna make you feel worse and slowly chip away at your confidence. Trust me, I've been there.

Try your best to always say something positive about the art that you make. No matter how much you think/believe that its bad. And never follow it up with anything bad either, "the face came out nice... but this hand looks terrible-" No. None of that. Actively force yourself to never say anything negative about your art out loud and always search for things that you like in the piece. If you seriously cant find a single thing to be positive about, then say "well I did my best. And I improved a little at art because I drew this."

Trust me man. From personal experience it will do wonders for your self confidence. Eventually that confidence will become second nature. Fake it till you make it.💪

@nutty-candy-lover

WAAA THANK YOUUUUU HHHGHFIIUSDAFI💖💖💖😭😭

REALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I take so much pride in my expressions and angst! I've never really been the best at expressing my stories through dialogue. So I express it through body language instead!

A big chunk of the drawing time is the sketching and the line art. Trying my best to get specific expressions and poses. Like in this post! Most of the line art time was spent making sure that Grillby and Asgore eyes were juuuust right. And that Asgore's hug didn't look too tight or like Grillby couldn't pull away if he needed to. More like he was holding/supporting Grillby with 1 arm, and resting his hand on his back with the other.

I always have this thought process while drawing of "his pose looks a bit stiff, his shoulders aren't drooped down enough. He's grieving, so he needs to look heavier. His eyebrows should be furrowed a bit tighter. No now he looks angry, less furrow, more tears. His tears look too fresh. He needs to look like he's cried a lot recently. Okay thinner tears and marks around the eyes-" things like that.

I enjoy drawing these physical expressions so much and I really try to make them look good. So to hear that you see that effort I put in and you really like it?? wwAAA AWOOOOGOROOG😭😭💖🍤💓💖💘THANK YOU WAAAAAA

@cupcake-kingdom

Sort of..? I think they would have a decent relationship. I imagined him being a cold father but sometimes shows that he cares in his own special way.

Like for example. A comic that I never got around to drawing started with Bowser having a nightmare about Mario. When he wakes up, he proceeds to roam from room to room around his castle. Checking on all of his kids 1 by 1. He could stop by and maybe close their open windows, tuck them back in if their blankets were kicked off. A stuffed animal fell off the bed so he puts it back.

I think I planned for him to make it to JRs room. And instead of just checking and leaving, he goes and scoops JR up and take him back to his room. He also checks on Kamek and the Commander. before going back to bed with JR.

That might be a good way to explain it. He like- he loves his kids, he does. But he's just super weird about showing it and can only be truly tender towards them when something like that nightmare happens.

I don't believe so no. :/

I'm not sure, I haven't seen the Amazing Digital Circus yet <XD

@growing-past-me

Woah woah woah- slow down for a sec, Jevil and Seam are strictly friends through and through.😅 I personally don't support/enjoy ships of any kind. Its just really not my taste. :/

But yes! Which ever story I end up going with, Jevil and Seam escape their AU together and rekindle their friendship. :}

Yes! It is! :DD

Its also a double whammy though because its also meant to parallel Foxy having his mouth tied shut and his hook being removed. 👀👀

I haven't really thought about it too much..

Perhaps they'd feel betrayed? Because Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie all lied to them to keep Gregory a secret? Maybe there would be fighting because Chica and the others think they should call security but Freddy insists that they dont?

Maybe they would think that Freddy is malfunctioning because of how hard he pushing against their protocol? Maybe they'd call security on Freddy because of how he's acting..? Who knows <XD

As for how they acted the night Gregory was there.. man.. they wouldn't know what to say. Some might not even believe it happened, some would be ashamed.. it would be a hard pill to swallow for sure :(

@random-entity-363

XDD he really does use the power of tape to fix things doesn't he? I think he was also just a bit lucky that a lot of the damage on Bonnies body could just be poorly taped back into place.

I supposes that Staff bots could be used to aid Foxy is certain shows of his. But ultimately he is meant to be a 1 man band while preforming in Pirates cove <:/

"Bonnie you have no business being this larg" XDD

I've seen that all over Tumblr in the past few days. I really gotta get around to watching it <XD

@beryl-shade

I suppose its always possible. Although with how I've structured my Vanessa and the "bug", I don't think anyone/anything would make Bonnie do that..

XDD Yeah I can see them freaking out. As would anyone!

Well Bonnie didn't become this way over night. It was a slow process over the span of ten years. Years of constantly being overwhelmed with his performances, interacting with large crowds that he's not designed to process, his friends not giving him space when he really needed it.. He just slowly crumbled more and more until now he's just this cold, angry and rude individual.

However,, when it comes to Vanessa he's not that bad.

Bonnie is designed for interacting with groups of no more then 10 people at a time. He's even better at 1-1 interactions. And that's what Vanessa is. Just 1 person to process. Just 1 child.

And unlike most other kids that Bonnie deals with, she is very shy and quiet. She almost talks less then Bonnie does. That could be why Bonnie was Vanessa's favorite character. She preferred characters who weren't as loud as Monty or as active as Foxy. A slow moving, mellow animatronic is what she was drawn to.

I've imagined them interacting. Bonnie would ask her a question and she would just nod. If she were scared/sad she might not rush to Bonnie for a hug. Rather just sheepishly sit next to him and hold his hand.

What I'm trying to say is, she matches Bonnie's energy pretty well. Bonnie is not scary to her and Vanessa isn't overwhelming for Bonnie. I imagined them camping out in Bonnies room. The darkness makes Vanessa feel hidden, so she actually prefers it. She's shy so she doesn't really say much to Bonnie.. But she feels safe with him.

Maybe she squeaks out a little; "..thank you for helping me.." Bonnie could then turn his head a little and nod. Vanessa could smile and then curl up next to Bonnie. Eventually falling asleep.

They could work, and maybe their bond isn't the same as Freddy and Gregory's, but that doesn't mean it's lesser. Or that they're not as close. I think they're just right for each other. An overwhelmed animatronic mixed with a really quiet kid is a good mix I'd say :0

(Post in question)

I don't have an answer for either <XD

He was just reading "a book" and Kwazii was about to do "a dumb thing"-

@ocinstituterep

I haven't really given their exact ages much thought. Though I kind'a have an age range..? I feel like Barnacles is 40-50 years old. Maybe closer to 40.? Inkling is like in his 60-70s.

Dashi, Shellington, Kwazii, Tweak and Peso are all just bunched together between 20 and 40 years old. But Peso could be the youngest of the 5 and Kwazii the oldest maybe..?

The Vegimals are all under 10 I think.

I have not drawn that before no :/

Also that fact list was fun! XDD

#my response #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #fnaf security breach

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wellntruly · 3 months

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Beets & Kale Recovery Bowl

I want to share a hearty salad I came up with a year or so ago, as every time I make it I think, dang this is so good, and its nutrition benefits are real big, especially when you're healing up from things. The combination of the earthy sweetness of the beets with the salty sharpness of the cheese, the nuttiness of the farro, and just that dark greenness of the kale really works for me, and maybe it will for you too.

What’s in here:

2 bunches lacinato (Tuscan) kale | high in iron, which your body uses to make hemoglobin to carry oxygen around

Rinse, cut out the stiff stems, and chop the leaves into bite-sized pieces. Sauté in olive oil over medium heat, with salt to taste, until softened but still with some body.

3 to 4 medium beets | high in folate, a B vitamin that your body uses to generate cells

Peel, chop into 1/2 inch dice, toss with olive oil & salt, and roast in an 8x8 glass baking dish (I’ve also used a glass pie plate) covered tightly with foil for 20 minutes at 425 F. Remove foil and roast uncovered for 10 minutes more to caramelize a bit.

1 cup dry farro (wheat berries) | high in fiber, which your digestive system loves

Rinse like it’s rice, and simmer in salted water for about 30 minutes uncovered. Drain well.

6 ounces Beecher’s Flagship cheese (or any semi-hard cheese, I just love this one!) | source of protein and high in calcium

Crumble or cut into little cubes

3 ounces hazelnuts | source of protein and high in good fats, which your body needs to properly utilize all the nutrients above

Toast and chop

Good olive oil | ditto about those fats

For drizzling at the end

This will be enough for about four servings, and easily keeps in the fridge for multiple days worth of meals. I put the kale and farro together, but store the beets separately so they don’t turn everything pink (yet), and add the cheese and hazelnuts after re-warming the rest in a lightly oiled pan. Best warm or at room temperature.

#just had my third bowl #food #menus

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hollowtones · 1 year

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I had a sad day so I baked a cake about it. Following this Chef John recipe. Very simple ingredients and prep. I used buttermilk and a little bit of cream instead of whole milk because I didn't have any.

This was my first time using this new oven after our older-than-me 30-something year old oven died recently. This new one is a convection oven!!! I'm still trying to learn how to use it, so I decided something simple and relatively quick would be a good way to break it in. "Relatively" being the key word here. The recipe calls for 60-70 minutes of cook time but I ended up needing an hour and a half before toothpicks were coming out clean.

Texture is great. Moist, fluffy, a little dense. Good crumb. I was worried the extended bake would dry out some of the outer bits that were cooked through before the middle one, but it's soft all the way through, and those outer bits have a very satisfying browned crispness.

Taste is great, too. It's a gentle sweetness - fruity, floral, almost perfume-y (but in an appetizing way, not an "ew I'm drinking a bottle of perfume" way), a little rich. Flavour's rounded out by a really satisfying, subtle bitterness and sourness, maybe almost a nuttiness, from the orange zest and olive oil (and probably also from the buttermilk I ended up using, to some extent).

Feels like it'd go real well with a bit of jam and a hot coffee, or some fresh tea, or something similar. I'm going to try that tomorrow, because it's 11pm for me right now & I probably shouldn't be eating anything at all this close to bed. The taste test was worth it, though.

#I tried to cut a very thin slice but it was still a little too warm so it crumbled a bit.

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chokchokk · 10 months

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1/2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 [𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART THREE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

“When I saw you last night, all-fucked out, with the red hickey on your neck, I, fuck…”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: You have sex in two bathrooms in one day.

First time, in his shower. Second time, in front of the mirror, while San is clubbing somewhere outside.

It only gets more complicated from here.

Then what, San? You almost fell in love with me?

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: domestic fluff, smut, slight (?) angst, feels

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 5.7k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): jealousy, shower sex, cunnilingus, hickeys, referenced possessiveness, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, come eating

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 1st half of PART THREE

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: *whistles innocently* seonghwa is in here and he'll be very important... that's all....... enjoy xoxo

𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

San doesn’t do hickeys. Actually, he doesn’t do a lot of things, namely be in a relationship with you, but apparently, hickeys is one thing he just can not.

“It’s an ex-girlfriend thing, forgive me,” San grunts, while you’re on top of him, bouncing up and down. One hand is grabbing the bed frame behind him, the other one tangled in your hair, while your face is buried in his necks with lips dangerously eager. He’s got an incredible set of collarbones and shoulders and it takes a lot for you to not start marking him up with greedy kisses.

“Okay,” you answer, bucking your hips to feel his girth angle inside you, and in the moment, you’re frankly really glad that he’s opening up and communicating his boundaries with you.

“Thanks,” he smiles, but before you can add anything to the matter, San pushes himself forwards, you landing on your back. He props himself next to your head, whispering into your face, “But I can leave hickeys on you, if you want?”

You nod before you can realise that his hand is still in your hair. It hurts a little bit, the tug is enough to yank your head back the inch, but it’s nothing compared to how San starts to work his tongue from your nipples to your neck, where he begins to leave sloppy kisses and find a spot where he can forcefully create a mark.

And not just one mark, too, he leaves two, three, four— you feel like you’re being smothered with him, smothered by something like love, and you’re so pretty like this, accessorised by San’s efforts.

You moan out his name, when he begins to drive his hips faster into you and San spells it out on your skin, that you’re his.

S - A - N.

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧

“Hey, by the way, thank you for making food all the time,” a sweaty Seonghwa says from behind you. He’s just returned from his morning jog, you can hear him slightly breathing heavily still.

San had called you over yesterday at a pretty late time, so you spend the night— like you usually do— and when you woke up, you decided to quickly restore the energy you’d lost by cooking breakfast.

“No need to thank me,” you smile, not turning around, cracking enough eggs to feed the three of you, the nutty smell of heated up oil entering your noses. “Just trying to survive.”

“Survival instincts make up for delicious cooking,” Seonghwa says and opens the fridge to find that you even had sorted out some of the expired take-out foods the two roommates had been getting. “Mhm,” he hums, “you’d make a great housewife, Y/N.”

“Really? And you’re not just saying that?“, you grin, a bit touched by his praise. San is very hesitant when it comes to giving personal compliments, mainly to keep some type of distance— it’s something you’ve noticed a while back. He’s still adoringly cute to you, of course, San is one of the softest men out there in that regard, but his roommate takes away the award for being a natural sweet-talker. Somehow he just finds the words you’re trying to hear. You turn your head around to nod at him. “Thank you, Seonghwa.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just observing,” Seonghwa winks and takes out a bottle of orange juice. “Should I go fetch San? Quite a rough night you had there, I’m surprised you’re the first one to wake up.”

You scoff at Seonghwa’s straightforwardness and shake your head in disbelief, turning around to lean against the counter. San is stressed, or so was the single thing he said to greet you yesterday, and that has been only made more clear ever since. It wasn’t not welcomed by you, the way he pushed you against the wall the second you came inside the house, just getting straight to the point and ripping off your dress as a whole— the poor bed he threw you in probably needs to recover from that trauma, too. “I tried to be as quiet as possible, I swear.”

“I noticed,” Seonghwa answers indifferently, filling himself a glass of juice to drink, but there’s playfulness in his glance.

“Yeah?”, you ask back and cross your arms, head tilting a bit to the back. “How would you notice that, huh?”

Walking up to you to put the glass down on the counter behind you, his left arm grazing your waist, his breast almost pushing you further back into the edge, Seonghwa smiles: “I notice everything, Y/N.”

You will always remember that one of the first interaction you’ve had with Seonghwa was the black-haired asking you for a threesome. It’s been weeks since that incident, and though you have declined the offer back then, because “privacy” or something, now it’s a whole different story when it feels like you’re the one who’s lonely in this two-set relationship with San. Is relationship even the right word? You don’t want to use “situationship” for your integrity, but nothing has changed for too long.

“The walls are thin and our flat is tiny. Nothing goes missed here.”

“Yeah, yeah..”

You gulp. You’ve promised yourself you would forget the messages you have read on San’s phone, but the words “I heard you were going to be at Mingi’s party. Meet me there.” will not leave your mind. You shouldn’t have read those words, but it was unavoidable; the bright notification beaming throughout the room woke you up from your sleep. The contact’s name was “volleyball”, which really doesn’t give you much to work with even minutes after reading the SMS, except that the person in question is probably in the same uni-team as him. San has always saved people according to his first impressions, so this person has to be someone he has known for a longer time, if it’s not a new member. Which sets you back to zero.

You’re still “unknown number” on his phone, just because you got his phone number early from the application, like the smart girl you were, when Prof. Kang put you two up for a project. How much time until he changes it into “my girlfriend”? Fuck, hopefully not too long. It’s been almost a year since he saved in your contact, and in that time, he’s booty-called you an uncountable amount of times. Under the name “unknown number”, if that counts as a name at all, shit.

But, yeah, here you are; “volleyball” is just another reminder to you that you’re not San’s only, and you’ve concluded that whether it churns your guts or not lays in the decision to do his same and see other people, before you turn into a jealous mess for no good reason.

“I’m just kidding with you, Y/N. I just saw the hickey and took a wild guess.”

Oh, but there’s that. The hickeys. While San had stayed his clean self, you’ve been getting marked since the moment he offered to give you one, and yesterday was no different. Usually he leaves sheer butterflies on your skin, but yesterday, he opted for this one big spot that isn’t really his style. It was hot, unbelievably hot, the way he sucked into your skin with passion— you almost mistook it for possessiveness.

“Really wild,” you repeat and rub the spot on your neck.

“I got myself a really good pair of noise-cancelling headphones the other day. Didn’t hear one thing tonight, I promise,” Seonghwa laughs and leans closer towards you to make his promise count.

“Good, ‘cause I was getting nervous.”

“You really thought I’d creep up on you like that?“

Seonghwa frowns at you, eyebrows pulled together with a playful sulkiness, his breath is hitting your face and making your hair move a bit. He is undeniably close to you and you don’t know whether it’s on purpose or not that his hand is still resting on the counter behind you. Your only way outside this position is left, where Seonghwa is holding his orange juice, creating free space.

“No! You just said it so casually…”

But you don’t want to leave.

“If I did, expect a pay. Entertainment doesn’t come free, don’t you think?”

So, when Seonghwa chuckles and takes a step back again before you can answer him, you catch yourself gulp at his muscular physique peaking through his tight nylon sportswear with a certain need to find out how small his waist would feel in your arms. It’s quite a contrast to the oversized shirt San gave you to sleep in. If San is broad-muscular, Seonghwa is rather slim, giving him something frail about him, but only in a way that makes him incredibly flexible and sly. He’s always been a charming guy, studying communications, smart, but not up your nose about it…

“I’m just glad you’re letting me stay here at all.”

No, you’re not going to see Seonghwa to distract yourself from San. They’re associates, they’re literally from the same household. That would be wrong.

… Would it?

“No biggie,” Seonghwa grins and stashes his orange juice into the fridge, preparing to leave.

“Hey, Seonghwa?”, you call anxiously, “Do you know someone called Mingi?”

“Mingi? Like, Song Mingi?”

“Uh… Yes?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s the DJ at a club today. San is going too, I think. Wanna come? I could get you a ticket.”

You wet your lips and flutter with your eyelids. San has never invited you to an event he’s attended, for some unknown reason. You’re too proud to ask him about why that is. It’s only been a few weeks since San has actively started to party, so he’s just exploring the new waters, you think. Maybe he doesn’t want to show you his embarrassingly red flushed face in action, but he’s sent you enough drunken booty calls for that to not be an assumption anymore. Not to forget that you have seen San drunk enough times— in the safe space that is your home.

“I’ll buy you a drink, Y/N.”

And it’s just a club, right? People go to the same clubs. People meet each other there, they hook up. It just happens. They also never talk about it again, which is great. It will just be that one time. One night.

“Imma think about it,” you exhale and Seonghwa answers, “I’ll send you the address”, but before you can ask further questions, the sleepyhead joins you two.

Out of reflex, you turn around and devote yourself to the eggs again, that have turned crisp. San likes his eggs sunny side-up, Seonghwa likes them cooked well-done, you repeat in your head to distract yourself from the imagination of you and Seonghwa sharing a drink together.

“Good morning,” San murmurs, his morning voice vibrating in your ear, as he hugs you from behind, arms swung around your stomach, pulling you close to him. “Just how I like it~”, he continues in a baritone, seeing that you’re moving the half-done egg onto his plate.

“How was your sleep, Sannie?”

“Splendid~”

“Good.”

“What about you?”

It’s always this domestic scene that gives you hope but also the most dread. The smell of food and the warmth of San’s skin misleading you to believe that this is something more, could turn into something more, at least.

Does San always act like this? Act like this with everyone? Give them his clothes to comfortably sleep in and hug them closely from behind the morning after? The unsurprised expression on Seonghwa’s face that you see through the window could tell many things, namely that San’s behaviour towards you is the norm around the house. “Housewife”. To how many has Seonghwa said this before?

“I slept well, too,” you answer haphazardly.

“Since when were you awake?”, San asks, his voice warming up a bit, the tune taking you out of your thought chaos.

“30 minutes ago or something? I don’t know.” You gulp down any remaining desperation and continue watching the eggs.

“I love week-ends,” San yawns and places his chin onto your shoulder, observing you do the magic. “Don’t you too, Seonghwa?”

“Yes, very much,” Seonghwa answers, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. “If you’re not dealing with deadlines.”

“Don’t remind me! I’ve been trying to forget!”, San whines, rubbing his eyes with his arm across your body, you’re crammed between his elbow. At least you’ve found out the reason he’s stressed. “Week-ends are for fun! I recently discovered this.”

“Great! What will you discover next? Holidays?,” Seonghwa jokes and you chuckle with him.

“Don’t laugh!”, San nags and cuddles you to stop the giggling. “I come from a strict household!”

“That gets old when it’s been a year since you enrolled, San.” Seonghwa crosses his arms and you catch his sharp eyes through the window. You look away the second you see him and you can hear him chuckle from behind.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” San murmurs and nuzzles into your neck, his soft skin rubbing against your warmth. You feel comforting to him, or at least you hope so. “Tired and hungry…”

“I’m almost done,” you announce to both of them, “go sit at the table. Your food is already here, Sannie.”

San slides his extremities out of your armpits and takes the plate with his food, smelling it and then giving you a kiss on the cheek. “British breakfast~”, he sings, saliva gathering in his mouth, walking outside the kitchen. You chuckle at his gesture and wipe over your skin.

“He didn’t say thank you,” Seonghwa gasps theatrically and fetches his cup again, along with two other clean ones.

“He will once he’s finished eating, he always does,” you snicker, separating the eggs and putting them on their respective plate. “Don’t worry. I’m not doing this for his gratitude.“

“All I’m saying is maybe you should be,” Seonghwa smiles, but even if his tone is extremely friendly, the backhanded remark still confuses you a little bit. “Woah, what does that mean?”, you pant dramatically, trying to catch up with Seonghwa, who’s carrying three cups with one hand and now taking the two plates with the other.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s go eat.”

And okay, Seonghwa was right, San didn’t and wouldn’t say “thank you”— but he would have! You’re sure of it. You’re just unlucky San got a call from someone and had to leave the room, just when he was finishing his food. He does excuse himself and gestures that he has to take this call, or whatever, but that’s how far it goes with that. At least he gave you a kiss on the cheek, hm?

“Thank you for the food,” Seonghwa mumbles to himself, but fortunately enough, he doesn’t rub salt into your wound. Maybe he hasn’t even taken direct notice of the lack of ‘thank you’s, the way he’s cleaning up after San’s plate.

“No, hey, let me do that,” you tell him, when he stands up to pick up his fork and knife too, but Seonghwa shakes his head. Assertively, you stand up as well and try to at least get the cups.

“Y/N,” he says, calmly, already piling the cups onto each other, “you don’t need to do the chores here.”

You huff. Seonghwa is being unnecessarily nice today, just when you were beginning to considering him as someone to get a bit of distraction with. It’s also not helping he’s taking your plates too and going as far to push you to the side with his hip to prevent you from assisting him any further. You’re not that eager to clean up, you’re really not, but you’re desperate to get your mind elsewhere, so you slide a hand under Seonghwa’s plates, grazing his fingers in the process of that, and attempt take them back.

“Take a rest and make yourself ready for the day, alright?”, Seonghwa laughs, and somehow manages to hold your hand and get them off the plates by wiggling the plate out of it. “Housewives need relaxation too. It’s the week-end!”

Perplexed, you freeze. Again with that compliment! And you liked it even more this time, it’s sickening.

“Someone say week-end?”, San asks once his call has ended, walking towards you two in his pyjamas. He swings his thick arm around you, which makes Seonghwa back up a little bit. You hadn’t even realized how close you’d gotten to him in order to get the plates. The warmth of touching his hand lingers on your palm and you glide your fingers across the spot.

“Yep,” you smile and Seonghwa nods too, taking the dishes to the kitchen while you watch every step of his as he walks with light feet.

“Will you be leaving soon? I was thinking that maybe we could go to my room~?”, San purrs into your ear. “Sannie, you’re impossible,” you chuckle and tilt your head to hit his dekolleté with it, grabbing his hand on your chest.

“Sorry~ But you just look so cute inside my shirt,” he murmurs into your skin, “I just want to eat you up! Like a breakfast-dessert, if that exists.”

“Breakfast-dessert,” you parrot and feel San massaging your breast through the fabric. You sigh into his touch, but looking at the time, you better get going to complete some things at your house. You’re going to see him sooner or later, no? If he doesn’t meet up with volleyball, that is.

“What do you say?”, San asks you again, respectfully whispering into your ear.

“You really got the better of me yesterday, I have to freshen up first.”

“Aaaalright. I’m taking that as a compliment though,” San grins.

You watch San physically struggle to not make his hand disappear under his shirt and up your stomach, when you carefully push him off you.

“I can drive you home,” he insists, but just a second after he gasps, “Ah, shucks, my sister is coming over this afternoon to bring me food.”

“Ah, for your mother’s cooking?”

“Mhm.”

“Is she staying?”, Seonghwa asks from the kitchen, apparently having heard all of your conversation.

“No,” San answers him briefly, pouting. “I’m sorry,” he says and grabs you by your shoulders. “Maybe Seonghwa can give you a ride home this time?”

“He can drive?”

Scoffing, Seonghwa appears from the kitchen, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Pretty darn well, too, Y/N, you’d be surprised!”

San chuckles and gives you a final hug. “Do you want to stay in that?”, he asks, and you look down to the slightly stained white linen shirt. It would be the first clothing you’d be stealing from him, and you don’t know how you can handle that, when you just kind of agreed to fiddle with Seonghwa.

“It’s okay, Sannie, the dress is still okay, I checked as soon as I woke up,” you chuckle and rub his back as you hug him back.

“At least take it off in front of me then,” San jokes into your ear and you’re afraid Seonghwa has heard that, but he just walks past you.

“Tell me when you’re ready to leave, alright?”, he calls with an undeniable friendliness, snapping with his fingers while he enters his room.

“Let’s freshen up together?”

You look up to San. It’s confusing he’s not your boyfriend. It really is. Nobody says things like that to people they’re not together with, do they? Or have you just been meeting really shitty-ass people?

Anyhow, you chuckle. San looks more awake now, but so lost in your eyes, it’s disheartening. His dark hair is still chaotic, uncombed and you could swear you can see the indents of the blanket on his neck.

“Do you usually just sleep in one position?”, you ask him, when you stand together in the shower, San soaping you in. You’re doing it more often now, cleaning up after each other, following the one night you showered together in your bathroom.

“Hm? What do you mean?”, San asks, kneeling down to rub your legs with body soap while you wash out the shampoo from his hair with the shower head.

“On your neck,” and you point at your own neck to demonstrate the spot, “I could see the blanket marks.”

“Oh!”, San giggles and looks up to you, water falling down his face. “Really?”

You nod, combing through his hair.

“I usually don’t, no. That’s strange, I didn’t notice that. But maybe that’s because I feel so comfortable sleeping with you~?”, he hums, working his way up your thigh with his slippery hands. You lick your lips and hold the shower head so you can see his concentrated expression focusing on covering every inch of your skin with this look— Oh god, this look. Crawling up from your inner thighs to the very spot between your legs. You know what’s coming next.

“Yeah, I really like sleeping with you.”

You smirk and grab a bit of his hair to make him look up.

“San.”

The smile looks innocent. His eyes expand, like he was caught in the act of getting a glimpse of something he shouldn’t, and he bites a tiny bit of his lip in anticipation of what you’re going to say.

His hands stay on the surface of your thighs, when you two just share a breath. The warm water is still running and thankfully you angled it so perfectly, that you can see the fluid run down San’s collarbones and down his ridiculously pillowy breast.

You can’t say anything. He’s breathtaking. Handsome, gorgeous, out of this world. No, he could save worlds with his abs, he could-

“Eyes up here,” San murmurs, feigning embarrassment, when you see his cock twitch up a little bit from your gaze. He loves being watched. Because he’s a pervert, that’s what he is.

A perverted fucking being, just like you are.

Smirking, you grab more of his hair and pull it closer. Now, San is breathing against your entrance, the heat condensing against your wet body.

“Can I?”, San asks and you look him deep in the eyes. His lips are opened and he looks like he’s hungry for you, ready to get a taste of you, eat you up deliciously, and maybe, you think to yourself, just maybe you can make him forget about everything else and become his favourite meal. So you won’t need anybody else. Both of you.

“Do it,” you answer and the second he gets confirmation from you, San digs in. His lips lap around your pussy, getting the shower water and your slickness inside his mouth, shovelling it all down his throat. You let out a whiny breath, pressing your back against the cold shower wall, San holding you stable with one hand on your thigh, the other one searching for yours.

You cross your fingers into each other, and your weight pushes into his grasp with ease.

With your eyes closed, you feel the heat of San’s mouth explore your sex, lukewarm water dripping down on both of you to get some sound over his pants, when he catches his breath or when whispery moans leave your lips.

San uses his tongue to tease your entrance and buries his nose into your clit, bopping his head sideways to catch some of that stimulation. Hopefully he’s not eating soap, but from what it seems like, it doesn’t matter, because the taste of you must be really amazing.

“San,” you whine, helplessly trying to figure out how to hold the shower head any further. You open your eyes to see that San is engulfed in his act, eyelids shut, holding you in place. He’s fully-erected now, getting excited by you calling his name.

“Hmnn?”, he hums, and it vibrates right through you, making you spasm a bit to the front. San has to change his position now a little bit, encouraging you to throw one leg up his shoulder, but that would take to much of muscle strength.

“San, come get here,” you command and pull up his hand, and with a confused and hoarse “huhhh?”, San removes his mouth from you and stands up immediately. His lips are swollen pink and you kiss him the second you’re in his vicinity. Your hands detangle and both of you throw your arms around each other — San around your waist, you over his head.

Getting a taste of yourself, you slightly suck at San’s tongue, while he massages your hips, getting one leg up.

The water is hitting his back area now, a much larger surface, the sounds of it hitting the floor are slightly quieter than before, and you try to hold your breath, when San inserts a finger into you.

“Hurry up,” you murmur into his lips to remind him that you have limited time, and San nods.

Playing with your folds for a moment, he plunges his fingers into you.

“Sorry for being so impatient yesterday,” San says all of the sudden and you laugh into the kiss.

“Impatient?”, you inquire, genuinely confused. How you would describe San’s behaviour last night is bold, reckless and maybe a bit aggressive, but not “impatient”.

“You didn’t notice?”, San asks, and it’s a bit mean he’s fingering you with a third finger as he does so.

“Uh, I—“, you try to get an answer out of you, “I wouldn’t have called it ‘impatient’, that’s all.”

San smiles and gets the wet strands of hair out of your face. “Okay, then everything is good.”

“Ok—“, you attempt to repeat his words, but San has replaced his fingers with his dick now, slipping right through you up until the tip hits the deepest spot inside you. “Fuck!”

He makes a face. That was way too loud. You pray that Seonghwa has his earphones in.

“You asshole!”, you whine, when he places a finger over his mouth to hush you. “Give me a warning or something.”

“I’m sorry,” San chuckles, kissing you all around your face; “I’m sorry,” your nose, “So sorry,” your cheekbone, “unforgivably sorry,” your forehead.

“You can move now,” you hiss jokingly, and San gets straight to work. He moves his pelvis out, slowly driving it inside again, adjusting you to keeping your leg up inside his hand. You two are so slippery and you can’t afford falling down, so a bit more extra care is needed.

You kiss him to silence yourself, you want to moan on his length so incredibly bad. San is also holding back on his sounds, but that’s nothing new, is it?

The sound of water hitting the floor is comforting and calming to say the least, and for a while, you feel yourself drifting away in pleasure that is quite literally a warm shower and having San inside you.

“Mhn, wait,” San muffles and lets his hand fall. “Turn around?”, you ask him and he nods. Letting no time go to waste, you quickly turn yourself and now your hands are against the wall, back arched, butt extended out to San. You guys are wasting so much water by letting it hit the wall like that, but you need some counteracting sounds.

“Perfect,” he praises you and moves your hair forwards, so he can get your skin from the back. “I told you before that hickeys really suit you, didn’t I?”, he asks, as he thrusts back into you once more.

“I don’t think so,” you answer softly, flaking out, when his cock hits your g-spot.

“Then I did now,” San grins and smooches the croak of your neck, thrusting non-stop. “The red,” he pants, “is really pretty on you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Say that again,” you whine and your eyes roll back.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he complies, grunting into your ear, “when I saw you last night, all-fucked out, with the red hickey on your neck, I, fuck…”

He stops talking and just grabs you with more force at your hips. Looking at the way he’s been getting hard since you finished breakfast, he can only be ever-close right now, but his words are getting interesting, you want to keep this going.

Then what, San? You almost fell in love with me?

“What, San?”, you murmur, feeling the knot inside you be pulled together, preparing itself for climax. Automatically, you glide a hand to your clit to play with your bud.

“I don’t know, it was just,” San exhales, feeling you tighten around him, “you reminded me, no, fuck, I mean—“ His nails dig into your skin really deep now, and if it wasn’t for his cock which was hitting your sweet spot over and over, you would be scoffing in confusion, but fortunately San fetches himself; “I just thought again that you are just a gift that keeps on giving.”

“That was way too long, San,” you sneer and feel his thrusts quicken, “just say that I’m the best you have.”

“Yeah. You, fuck, are the best fucking whore I could ask for, Y/N.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine and San kisses your back and replaces your hand with his to rub over your clit in a quick pace. “Cum,” he groans and thrusts as fast as he can, the slaps of his body hitting yours echoing through the bathroom.

“You’re mine,” San grunts and with a wispy moan, you orgasm with San’s hand rubbing around you. Coming as well, San pulls out and finishes himself with his own hand, but you move fast and get on your knees for him— weakly holding on to the shower head that you’ve not let go of like a fighter— and sucking his come out of his cock.

“Fuuck,” he cusses, thrusting his ejaculation into your mouth and you swallow it down like the well-behaved girl you are for him.

San helps you get back up and you two are more than clean now.

“Freshened up?”, San asks, as he turns off the water and steps out the shower to get you a towel.

“Uh-huh.”

With careful pats, San dries you with the towel, but there’s a knock on the door.

“San,” Seonghwa says outside, “your sister is in front of the apartment. You better let her inside.”

“Already? Shit!”, San laughs, shocked. “Do you think you can leave with Seonghwa while she’s getting the food inside our fridge?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Strict family. Probably doesn’t want to see San with girls.

“I understand.”

“Thanks!”, San beams and kisses your forehead, getting a towel around his pelvis. “I’ll tell Seonghwa to get you your clothes, okay?”

“Uh-huh…”

“You’re the best! See you again, yeah?”

“Yep.”

San storms out of the bathroom and you sit there, naked, waiting for Seonghwa to provide you with the clothes San tells him to get you in a haste.

“I’ll just put them here in front of the door!”, Seonghwa calls out, when he collects them. “Pardon me for touching your underwear, but I just assumed you didn’t want to go commando under the dress,” he adds in a joking tone and you laugh.

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you giggle and he answers: “I’ll be in my room for when you’re ready to drive home.”

Taking your clothes in milliseconds, you open the door and close it back again. San and Seonghwa are really a strange set of roommates. Coming to think of it, you’re really not aware of Seonghwa’s dating history. With every piece of information, you come closer to the fact that San didn’t have a great experience with his past girlfriends which made him want to “stay single for a while”, but when it comes to Seonghwa… Barely anything.

All you know is that he’s single right now and maybe that’s… all that matters?

Fuck, you just had sex with San and you can’t stop thinking about Seonghwa. But San is going to some Mingi’s party, club, whatever, to probably meet some sporty athletic girl, so maybe you’re being too harsh on yourself.

Anyway, you get yourself dressed and don’t see San again, when you leave the apartment with him.

“I hope you don’t mind my hair is wet,” you excuse yourself and Seonghwa gets the engine rolling.

“It’s San’s car, do whatever you want.”

As Seonghwa drives out the parking lot, you try to chat with him a little.

“Do you have any siblings at all, Seonghwa?”

“Hm? Me? I got an older brother. But that guy wouldn’t drive a single mile to get me food, I’ll tell you that.”

You chuckle.

“Why do you ask?”, Seonghwa asks and you look at him keep his eyes on the road.

“I was just… curious, that’s all. I don’t know much about you, you know? We don’t see each other on campus, too.”

“Yeah, I guess not! San and I don’t know each other from uni.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we know each other from like, way back then, when we wanted to become dancers.”

“No, you wanted to be a dancer, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa laughs. “Is that surprising?”

You shake your head and turn your body towards him. “No! It actually— It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“That I wanted to be a dancer?”

You’re both sharing a laugh and Seonghwa stops the car in front of the red light. “Yeah! I mean, you have the body for it!”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and smiles suggestively.

“Yes, really, now don’t look at me like that, Seonghwa!” You push away his face and he chuckles, hands on the wheel, tapping it lightly.

“You’ll see me dance tonight.”

“If I go, then yes.”

“You’re not?”

Inhaling and exhaling, you think about it the moment Seonghwa asks you. You want to go, the only reason you wouldn’t want to is that you could potentially see San with some girl, but maybe it’s time to face your fears? Be a strong woman? Hell, maybe San will see you and finally be convinced. You’ll make yourself look really good— even better than yesterday, and then he’ll see. San will see what he’s missing out on. Fuck yeah.

“… You’re not?”, Seonghwa asks again and tilts his head, asking rather rhetorically.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go.”

He clicks with his tongue and nods in excitement, getting the car to move again. “Mingi is great, it’s his fifth turn-up tonight.”

“Ahhhh,” you act like you’re interested, conflicted between wanting to finally get San over, but also having fun. Seonghwa is a nice guy, he would understand.

“You’re really going to enjoy yourself!”

Seonghwa would understand it’s all just for fun.

second half: "insanity"

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san smut #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

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ronsenthal · 4 months

Text

Still on my mission to give my two cents about Fierce Valor and as so many of you seemed to enjoy it here we have some more highlights

Notes: I highly recommend you to read the book and take your own conclusions as this is my view from my experience, but I do understand that it's not so accesible, specially if you are from outside US too, so please KEEP THAT IN MIND

Apparently Ron got along with Lewis Nixon!! because listen up Lew would give the men some detailed info of their objectives and geography *pterodatcyl noises. So the show got it right when they gave us Lew and Maps *more pterodactyl noises*

okay this nerd was really good because apparently he could locate himself and his men because he remembered the topography from one of the sand tables he studied (probably with Lew)

Its funny how they gave us two perspectives from the "No prisioners" orders, we have Dick Winters being "no but they told us that 'cause they though we would be in so much danger" and then Ron it's just "What am I supposed to do with those nazis?" *plays Another One Bites the Dust by Queen*

then we came to the Brécourt Manor Assault and it's simply amazing how everybody was stunned by the sudden outburst of fury from our very own Dick Winters!!! guy asked for ammunition and got his bullets (and Ron too)

at this point there is my fav bit so far because Ron Speirs and some guys from Dog and Fox came to the rescue of Easy, he was a crazy son of a bitch, he ran alone at first and even Wild Bill Guarnere was stunned and hyped by his actions he even said AND TO QUOTE "Speirs was as nutty as I was"

LISTEN WE WERE ROBBED OF SPEIRS BEING A SILLY WEIRDO because he just shoved a grenade into the mud and held it in place with his boot?? (crazy son of a bitch remember?) and then the grenade exploded, he was knocked down and then when he was okay he realized his boot was simmering and YELPED because it was too hot, then started to stomp it until cooled down and then waved to the other guys just like in the show, also he got some blisters on his foot for it

he was so vengeful, remember when I said he was a troublemaker? Well when the superior who got him switched from Charlie to Dog died he said that "the Krauts saved me a job!"

I absolutely love the respect and I dare say, the admiration, he and Dick had for each other, there is so much praise from one to another, it's even cute so it leads me to believe we haven't had enough of Dick + Ron in the show

man was really good at keeping his emotions bottled up (derrogatory) he clearly cared for his men for sure and was really hard on himself too, so far it's pretty clear that he does regrets some of his actions but he keeps this attitude of "what is done is done"

That's if for today kids!!

taglist: @mads-weasley , @mutantmanifesto and @love--persevering

if you want me to tag you for this series let me know

#ronald speirs #ron speirs #lewis nixon #dick winters #jess reads fierce valor #mw*#band of brothers

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nikethestatue · 7 months

Text

Princess Tea Party (Part 2)

A Walk in the Park

Elain Archeron Week 'Free Day' @elainarcheronweek

Warning: Explicit

Part 1 Azriel and Darius Night

Elain Archeron, Nesta Archeron, Feyre Archeron

“He said that?” Nesta’s normally cool, composed voice was sounding semi-hysterical.

“Yep,” Elain popped the ‘P’.

“He literally said ‘I am gonna fuck all your holes’?” Nesta demanded. “Just like that?”

“Yep.”

“That’s some next level dirty talk right out of the gate,” Nesta muttered, sighing with what Elain had assumed was admiration. “Do you even understand what that means?”

“What does it mean?” Elain asked weakly, throwing her legs up on the back of the sofa.

Once she was able to process what had transpired–and that was a bit of an exaggeration that she ‘processed’ it, because truthfully, she sure as fuck didn’t process anything that Azriel had said to her–she went to call her sister. She had to share this crazy ass day with someone. She needed to share Azriel with someone!

“And what did you say?” Nesta inquired like they were discussing what to get for lunch.

“Ummm, I certainly didn’t tell me ‘please fuck all my holes, Darius’s dad, whose last name I don’t know!”

“You don’t need a last name to have a guy all up in your business,” Nesta noted.

“Your moral compass is all skewed,” Elain replied, wondering how they were even sisters.

“What does he look like again?” Suddenly Feyre’s voice popped on the line and Elain groaned, having not noticed that Nesta got their younger sister on the three-way call.

“Apparently, he is an Armani-model-biker-gang-leader-mafia-pornstar,” Nesta reported unhelpfully.

“He is not a pornstar!” Elain objected nervously.

“He talks like one,” Feyre argued reasonably.

“He told her he is gonna fuck her ass,” Nesta piped in, and Elain begged, “ohmagod, please stop!”

“Wow, first convo butt sex…the gentleman does not believe in wasting time,” Feyre laughed obnoxiously, adding a low whistle to the mix.

“Oh and he told her he was gonna finger her too,” Nesta added, while Elain was glad that she wasn’t facetiming with them, because her face was burning up.

“Is that before or after the butt stuff?” Feyre inquired.

“That was a whole separate conversation,”

“Ellie, you sure you are still a virgin?” Feyre teased. “After this much dirty talk, you might have naturally de-virginised yourself! Or he,”

“Screw you both!” Elain hissed. “I am not a virgin. I got a kid!”

“Still kind of a virgin,” Nesta said decisively. “And imagine his skills in the bedroom if he can dirty talk you up like that? He can probably hammer your pussy to the point where you don’t know which way is up or down,”

“Are you kidding me now?”

“Not at all. This is one confident man!”

“So,” Feyre interrupted, “do we have a pic of this studly dirty-mouthed baby daddy?”

Elain sighed dramatically and then said prissily,

“Okay. I took a pic. Before the party started.”

“Ahhh you did!”

“I want it. I need it!” Feyre begged like a needy teenager.

“Oh god. I’ll send it, but I don’t want you to make a fuss,” Elain warned, but Nesta immediately shot that down.

“If he is worth making a fuss over, we’ll make a fuss!”

Wincing, Elain sent the photo to her nutty sisters.

It was a really cute photo–seven girls, all dressed up as princesses and holding plaques with their names on them–Isabella, Tay, Karo, Nell, Tee, Caroline, Cassie and then, there was Darius, who held a sign that said ‘Dari’ because when Elain made it, she didn’t know he was a boy. She and Azriel stood in the background.

“Sweet baby Moses,” Feyre gushed breathlessly.

“Let him do the butt stuff with you!” Nesta encouraged immediately.

“I knew this was gonna happen,” Elain moaned.

“And Oh. My. God. His kid!” Feyre’s voice became screechy on the other side.

“He looks like a cartoon character,” Nesta laughed. “This is the cutest darn kid in history. He looks like a little paperboy from ‘Peaky Blinders’,”

“He is wearing suspenders,” Feyre cooed softly. “I wanna pinch him and his fat cheeks!!!”

“But look at this prime piece of male real estate,” Nesta commented. “Oh-la-la. I’d ride him up and down the highway of all this very black, and very expensive clothing,”

“You are sick,” Elain muttered.

“No sweetheart,” Nesta interrupted, “this is a hella hot man.”

“He looks like a Pinterest model,” Feyre agreed. “All broody and tattoo-ty.”

There was a pause, and Nesta added, her tone more serious than before, “As I look at this, I can say that you two honestly look really good together.”

“What?” Elain wasn’t sure if her sister was joking, but it didn’t sound like it.

“Yes, I agree,” Feyre said. “You look like you…belong. Even though it’s obviously ridiculous because he is this tattooed hunk of burnin’ love and you are a fairy tale princess,”

“I am not!”

“You are. And yet, you two look really good together.”

After her sisters were done ogling the photo, Elain asked,

“What do I do with him?”

“You go for it!” Feyre said immediately.

“Surprisingly, I agree with her,” Nesta added. “This is a not-to-be missed experience. Besides, he is hot for you. You don’t need to work for it. I mean, you could be sitting on Tinder, swiping up and down, right and left, but you got this gorgeous man primed and ready for you–pop quiz, what do you do?”

“I take it I should go for it?” Elain asked quietly.

“That’s a resounding ‘yes!’,” Feyre boomed.

“But like…he is so big…”

“That’s your excuse? He is ‘big’?” Nesta challenged.

“But he is! He is like 9 feet tall!”

“Okay, well then, you know he is hung. At least you’ve got that going for you,”

“I don’t want hung,” Elain muttered feebly.

“No, you definitely do want hung. Trust me,” Feyre assured her. “You don’t want a guy like that rocking a decapitated mushroom down there. You pray he is hung.”

Groaning loudly, Elain didn’t answer.

“Pray tell, what does the young gent do for a living?” Nesta asked. “Considering the state of his wardrobe and the fact that he puts his son in Burberry pants, I’d say he is pretty well off.”

“I think he is a photographer,” Elain answered lamely.

“A photographer?!” Feyre was laughing. “I think he is a drug dealer,”

“What does he drive?” Nesta piped in.

“He is not a drug dealer,” Elain snapped. “A Maybach.”

“I am sorry. WHAT? A Maybach??”

“Yeah, I was surprised as well.”

“Where does he live?”

“I don’t know, but they brought cookies from the Cherry Creek Whole Foods and they walk around Wash park, so I guess somewhere around there?”

“Shit,” Feyre whistled again. “The dude is loaded! Forget what I said about the decapitated mushroom for a penis. Even if he has that, that’s okay. At least you can cry about it in your Maybach.”

“You are so gross,” Elain was shaking her head.

“Practical, babe, I am practical. Not gross,” Feyre insisted. “Also, I vote for ‘drug dealer’. Or, or–maybe he is in the mafia?!?! That would be cool!”

“Yeah. So cool.”

“Final question,” Nesta interrupted them.

“Thank the lord,” Elain muttered.

“Does he have a brother?”

“In fact he does. His name is Cass.”

“Feel free to hook me up with this Cass character,” Nesta suggested.

“What happened to Tomas?” Elain asked in confusion, though her older sister wasn’t exactly known for high rates of fidelity. She went from man to man like it was her god-given right.

“Keeping my options open,” Nesta said breezily.

“Well, y’all have fun with your hookups. I am 20,” Feyre announced. “I am going to Barcelona. That’s what I care about.”

“Oh, Ellie,” Nesta cooed. “Make sure to wax everything. Most guys are not into…forestation.”

“I don’t have any forestation!” Elain screamed.

“Good for you, girl. Keep it that way.”

Azriel and Darius Night

When Darius was in the bathtub, it resembled a baby elephant splashing in a kiddie pool. Messy, wet and hilarious.

Azriel was absolutely drenched by now, as he tried to wrestle Darius into the towel and dry him.

“Go potty before bed,” Azriel ordered him, while he went to get Darius’s PJs, which he’d have to lasso onto him the moment his son was off the toilet.

Darius didn’t know how to pee standing up yet, so he sat on the toilet, kicking his legs, pontificating.

“Dada.”

“Yeah,” Azriel returned to the bathroom and pulled off his soaking wet t-shirt, before putting Darius’s pyjama top on him.

“Why you don’t talk to me today, da?”

“What do you mean? Of course I am talking to you,”

“No,” Darius shook his head. “We talk a lot. Today after party, we don’t talk so much.”

Azriel couldn't argue. He was surprised that Darius noticed it, but his boy was correct.

Azriel’s head was filled with something else–namely, Elain Archeron.

That woman took him completely by surprise–it’s not that he even had a type, but he certainly didn’t think that she would be his type. And yet, here he was. He found her blindingly beautiful, but there was more to it than just basic sexual attraction. There was a warmth about her, and something so genuine that she seemed tailor made for him, for his needs and wants. The fact that she seemed to really like his son didn’t hurt either. She was inviting, and had an incredible combination of steely strength and delicate fragility in her, which made the inner Neanderthal in him roar with protective urges, and the man in him wanted to dominate and take her as his. He equally hated and liked that Elain kind of blew him off. That she was innocent was obvious, but she also stood her ground, despite the onslaught of him. Normally, he wasn’t that pushy and mouthy, but fuck if she didn’t make him lose his cool. The need in him for her was rabid. Yet his girl was all ‘nope. You ain’t getting a piece of this any time soon’. And as frustrating as that was, he respected her and her wishes. Though he also very much hoped that she’d change her mind.

“Sorry, Dari,” Azriel helped him into his pyjama pants and then Darius climbed into his bed.

He yawned and admitted, “I tired, dada. This party was fun, but I tired.”

“It was a fun party,” Azriel agreed. “You don’t want me to read you a book?”

Darius shook his head and said, “no, no book today. I wanna sleep.”

He clutched his stuffed bat Brute to his chest–Brute the Bat was Cassian’s present, obviously, because it was totally normal to give babies toy bats–and reached to turn off the light on his nightstand.

Azriel stooped and kissed his son’s forehead.

“Good night then, Dar. Sleep well.”

Just before Azriel exited the bedroom, Darius said quietly,

“Dada, you know I don’t have mama.”

At that, Azriel turned abruptly and stared at the tiny mound under the blanket. Darius had never mentioned not having a mother before. He always just kind of accepted that it was him and his dad. And now, it was he, his dad and his uncle. But he never complained about not having a mother, or even acknowledged the fact.

“You have me,” Azriel said firmly.

“Yes. I know. I love you, da,” Darius nodded calmly. “But if Lain wanna be mama, then I am happy.”

“What?” Azriel murmured, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. This wasn't what he was expecting his son to tell him.

“Yeah, I like Lain,” Darius decided. “She is pretty and nice. And if she wanna be family with me, then this is good and I want it.”

“Okay,” was all Azriel managed. It wasn’t much, but he was literally lost for words.

“If you want to ask her, dada, you do it. I can ask too. And then Isa is gonna be family too.”

“I’ll try, Dari. I promise. But I don’t know…”

Darius yawned again and muttered, “she like me, dada. And she like you too much.”

At that, Azriel gawked at his strange child and asked, feeling both foolish and hopeful, “why do you think so?”

“She wanted to give you hugs and kisses,” Darius told him with utmost confidence.

Azriel chuckled, “nah, big guy, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, she did,” Darius nodded. “You just don’t know it.”

Sunday.

Monday.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

On Wednesday, at 5:30pm Azriel perked up, when he saw a woman in shorts and with a ponytail appear near the start of the trail at the pond. She was holding a little girl’s hand too.

But it wasn’t Elain.

And that realisation smacked him in the chest like a ton of bricks.

He wanted it to be Elain.

Thursday.

Friday.

He didn’t have her phone number.

He considered accosting her at the preschool, but he also promised her that he wouldn’t bother her. That the next steps would be up to her. And he wanted to keep his promise. But he was also desperately depressed by now. A whole week passed and Azriel still thought of Elain. Craved Elain. Wanted Elain. Fantasised about Elain. Spoke to Elain in his head. He relieved all the small details of their afternoon together. The jokes. The confessions. The stories. He recalled her sweet blushes and how she got so flustered with his come-ons. He just loved the way that she was–her beautiful golden skin, her freckles which clung stubbornly only to her cute nose, her absolutely lush brown hair and the dark brown eyes the colour of chocolate. Those soft rosy lips that resembled a tulip and her small, scarred hands, with neat square nails, which he dreamt of and wished to feel on his skin. She wore simple leather sandals with her white dress, and she had the prettiest toes, her nails varnished with the same pale pearl colour as is on her hands. He loved everything–he loved her thick lashes, her toes, the birthmark on her neck, the tiny tattoo on her wrist with an ‘I’ and a marigold flower wrapped around the letter, the simple gold chain around her throat, the way her plump breasts created the most tempting cleavage in the cut of her dress.

He imagined what it would be like to wake next to her in the morning–to watch her sleepy and satiated and not on her guard, because she was comfortable with him and trusted him. He imagined her padding barefoot to wake the kids and then he’d make breakfast for everyone and she’d kiss his neck when she finally came to the kitchen, wearing only his t-shirt.

He imagined many things.

Only none would come to pass. Because it was Friday.

And Elain certainly hasn’t been thinking about him.

Until…

This wasn’t his proudest moment, but he’d spent hours searching for Elain’s Instagram page. Who knew that there were like 300 million cooking pages out there? But he was determined to find hers, so he spent hours every evening typing everything from ‘Elain Archeron’ to ‘healthy cooking’ to ‘salad recipe’ to ‘Denver cooking’ and on and on. Nothing. Yes, he’s gotten a 1000 more salad recipes, but no Elain.

That was the frustrating failure on his part, until last night, when something struck him–the marigold flower on her wrist. So he typed ‘Marigold Catering Denver’ and lo and behold, there she was. He found her cooking blog page, and there, a link to her Insta. And then he proceeded to watch videos of her cooking, moving, smiling, dicing, slicing, expertly flipping pancakes and steaks and omelettes and looking luscious and gorgeous in the manner of Nigella Lawson. She had a similar aura–unpretentious, unfussy, attractive, effortlessly trustworthy and watchable. It was a bit of a con, of course–no one was that polished, while looking beguiling, yet adorably inept. It was a front that seduced the audience into thinking that they could also do this–look like a slightly dishevelled model with a messy braid, sumptuous breasts and a tiny waist, preparing healthy, yet delicious looking dishes, while assuring everyone that it was ‘simple and easy’.

The last two videos were recent–one from last week, the other, from Tuesday.

He clicked on the one from last week which was called…The Princess Tea Party. There, Elain was giving the blow-by-blow of how to make a ‘healthy’ afternoon tea. All those cakes and pastries that the toddlers were gorging on were apparently sugarless, mostly gluten free and full of healthy ingredients. Could’ve fooled him!

And then finally, he clicked on the most recent video.

It felt voyeuristic. He was observing something private, which was of course ridiculous, but at the same time, this was the only video where they’d already been acquainted. He already knew her and wanted her. She shot it after he’d touched her and for whatever reason, it felt intimate. He held those small delicate fingers in his hand, and the pearly nail polish was the same as at the tea party.

I made a new friend over the weekend, Elain was saying into the camera. She was smiling, her hair artfully tossed over her shoulder, her voluptuous figure cinched into a silk cobalt-blue blouse with fluttering sleeves. And on her wrist, a silver bracelet. Azriel’s heart jolted in his chest when he saw it–she didn’t take it off and it dangled over her wrist like his own personal brand. She continued saying and he made us this incredible salad! I should’ve been paying more attention to what he was doing and what he put into it, but we were having a good time and there was white wine involved…

A cute, but sexy giggle escaped her pink lips, while she began listing out the ingredients.

He was a miracle worker with this salad. So I hope that I can recreate it and do him justice.

So…maybe she was thinking about him after all?

He watched the video four times, back to back.

He studied every smile, every flirtatious movement of her shoulders, the innocent expression of her big brown doe eyes. He watched her chomp on lettuce, pop tomatoes into her mouth, crunch on a cucumber slice. It was perfect.

“You forgot the radishes, baby,” he whispered in the end. Smiling at last.

“Dada, let’s go already!” Darius demanded, loitering by the door, being super dramatic about waiting for five minutes.

“The park is not going to go anywhere,” Azriel told him, looking at his phone.

Darius pouted and muttered, “you be mean, dada.”

“I am not being mean,” Azriel argued. He wasn’t. But he was in a foul mood.

He couldn’t believe that a week later, Elain didn’t show up, and he was still absolutely desperate for her. He was not a desperate guy. He could probably have most if not all women that he wanted. The problem was that he didn’t want any women. Not until he’d met Elain. For the past year, back in NYC, he hardly even got laid, mostly because he didn’t want to leave Darius with a sitter and because it all just seemed like a tedious production. He couldn't take a woman to his house, not with his baby son there, so it either had to be her place or a hotel, and then it all seemed too complicated somehow, and he just lost interest.

Elain was different though. She already saw him with Darius, she knew who he was and what mattered to him. Nothing with her would be a production. It would be natural and organic.

“Alright, let’s go,” Azriel took Darius’s puffy hand in his and they left the penthouse.

“Is Lain and Isa gonna come?” Darius asked hopefully.

It came harsher than he intended to, but Azriel all but barked ‘no’.

Darius gave him an accusing look, pursing his lips.

In the elevator, he pressed the button and then said, “I think maybe they gonna come, da.”

“I doubt it. They have their own lives, Darius. They are busy.”

“Hmmm,” Darius only offered a doubtful hum and didn’t say anything further.

In the vast lobby of the building, the three concierge guys waved to them.

“Hey Darius!” they greeted him.

He was a popular staple around here, and he immediately veered off and went to the reception desk.

“Hi!” he said. “You have good day?”

“We are having a pretty good day. You going on your daily walk, buddy?”

“Yeah, with dada,” he nodded.

“You want a sticker?” one of them offered.

“Your shoes are cool!” said another.

“When I die and come back in another life, I want to be Darius,” muttered the third.

“Can I have two stickers?” Darius requested.

“Dari, you don't need two,” Azriel scolded him lightly, nodding to the guys in greeting.

“Yeah I need it, dada,” Darius insisted. “If Isa come, I have to give her one.”

“She is not coming,” Azriel said abruptly, but Darius ignored him and extended his hand for the stickers.

“Who is Isa, Dari? Your girlfriend?” the concierge asked, as he gave up two stickers.

“Yeah, she is my good friend,” Darius confirmed, taking the stickers and then politely thanking everyone.

“Whatever you did with this kid, man, you did it right,” one of the guys said to Azriel.

And Azriel smiled. Because if nothing else, he had an amazing son.

It was a decent half a mile walk to the park, so Azriel usually carried Darius, so he didn’t get too tired and could still run in the park. Darius was clutching his two stickers in his hand, loudly contemplating which one he wanted more.

Suddenly, he yelled ‘dada, see! Lain and Isa! Lain! And Isa!’

And then he nearly fell out of Azriel’s arms, startling him to a near heart attack.

“Darius!”

But Darius was running at full speed, waving and yelling ‘Isa! Lain! I come!’

That’s when Azriel saw them.

His girls.

Elain glowed like the sun at dawn, her hair lit up with streaks of bronze and gold. She was wearing a maxi skirt, flat sandals and a form fitting white shirt which reminded Azriel of a corset or something. Whatever it was, it did wonders to her breasts.

Darius and Isabella were hugging like they hadn’t seen each other in months, when it’s only been a few hours since they parted in school.

Azriel approached slowly, taking his time and taking in Elain’s beauty.

At last, he reached her and said, keeping his voice oh-so-casual, “Well, took you long enough.”

She huffed a shy laugh, and he watched her blush prettily under his scrutiny.

“Maybe I missed you,” she said at last.

“Maybe you did.”

“Did you miss me?” she asked softly.

“Desperately,” he confessed heatedly, all teasing and joking leaving his tone.

There was a moment when they stood there, looking at each other. And then Azriel asked, his voice quiet, and somehow broken,

“Why did you come, Elain?”

“You told me to come…” she reminded him breathlessly.

He put his heavy hands on her shoulders and then threaded his fingers behind her neck, keeping her in place.

“What if I didn’t tell you? Would you have come otherwise?”

She licked her lips and murmured in response,

“I’ve been dreaming of you every night since we’ve met. And last night, I dreamt that I was happy. With you. You made me so happy. So I figured, why not try it outside of the dreams? I want to try to be happy with you, Azriel.”

“Okay then. You will come to my home and I will feed you and your daughter.”

She smirked.

“That’s a thing with you. Feeding.”

“What can I say,” he shrugged.

“Also, I missed Darius,” she admitted. “A lot. He is someone who leaves an impression.”

“He certainly does.”

Releasing her neck, Azriel took her hand firmly in his, and tugged her alongside him.

The sun was barely beginning to set and the park was full of joggers, people with their dogs and with their babies, families and couples.

“How do we do this?” Elain asked, her voice timid and uncertain.

“Together,” he answered. “We do it together. I make you fall in love with me and then you are mine.”

She barked a laugh.

“Is that the plan then?”

“That’s it.”

Elain Archeron

The building where Azriel lived was one of the best in Denver. Elain had passed by it a few times before, but it was exclusive and tucked back behind a vast courtyard. She never really paid attention to it, seeing as that she was never going to step foot into it. How wrong she was.

The lobby was huge, with plush couches, a grand piano!, armchairs, two reception desks, lots of glass and steel and wood and artwork. There was even a coffee station that made all kinds of drinks, and Darius demanded ‘I want hot chocolate!’ to which Azriel told him that he’d get it after dinner. Unsurprisingly, Isabella also asked for hot chocolate immediately after.

“Is that Captain Sandy from ‘Below Deck Mediterranean’?” Elain whisper-shouted and Azriel smiled at her and nodded.

“Yeah, she lives here. A bunch of football and basketball players too. From the Broncos and the Nuggets.”

“That’s wild! I’ve never even seen a celebrity,” she confessed.

“You are in the right place to spot them.”

They took the elevator to the top floor, while Darius pressed the button with one finger, and grabbed Elain’s hand with his other hand, holding onto her. Azriel noticed it, but didn’t comment.

To get inside Azriel’s apartment, you needed fobs and codes and passes of all kinds and when they entered, Elain understood why.

It was massive. A glass cube, perched on top of the building, with a wrap around terrace and 365 degree views from every side.

She just stood there, gawking, while Darius grabbed Isa’s hand and said, ‘wanna see my room?’

They disappeared at once, talking loudly, laughing and saying stuff only they understood, while Elain just stood there and took it all in. One side of the apartment overlooked downtown Denver, the other, Wash Park, the third looked out at the mountains in the distance, and the fourth had a sprawling view of the city.

“Are you a drug dealer?” she asked quietly.

At that, Azriel burst out laughing, as he shook his head, and moved towards the incredible kitchen which was far beyond anything seen on HGTV or Insta. This was something else–with expensive appliances, stunning cabinetry, designer lighting, chrome and marble–this was an Architectural Digest kind of a kitchen.

“No. Not a drug dealer. I am a photographer,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, it’s like saying that Martha Stewart is a ‘caterer’. What do you photograph, exactly?”

She did notice really impressive black and white photos scattered strategically on the walls. They were artsy and sharp, some completely abstract, others of cityscapes, and even faceless people.

“I used to be a fashion photographer,” he explained, as he tied an apron around his slim waist. It only emphasised the breadth of her massive shoulders and Elain swallowed discreetly, very taken with the very presence of him. She was reminded yet again of how truly devastatingly handsome he was.

“Like models?” Elain inquired, as she made a slow circle around the vast open space that was the apartment. Azriel watched her, while he washed his hands, before nodding.

“Yes. Editorials for various magazines–Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire. It was a fluke really. When I was in the Marines, I liked to take photos of just random things.”

“You are a Marine?” she whirled and looked at him in shock.

“I am. So is my brother Cassian. But we are retired. Anyway, I took some nice photos, and my buddies put on a little exhibition. From there, word spread and the next thing I know, I am being invited to photograph barely dressed girls. It was a strange transition, but I spent about 7 years doing shoots all over the world. Not a bad job.”

“Apparently,” Elain frowned at him, and then asked, “and Darius’s mother? Was she one of the models?”

“She was,” he confirmed, as he began pulling things out of the refrigerator. “You probably know her,”

“She is famous?”

“She is. She goes by The Morrigan. I always told her that the ‘the’ is dumb,” he rolled his eyes, but Elain was gawking at him. The Morrigan was one of the biggest models in the world–even those who didn’t know anything about fashion, knew who she was. She was equally famous for her unruly behaviour, as she was for her bombshell beauty. And Azriel was in a relationship with her.

Elain didn’t respond, but only continued her slow perusal of the apartment. The bedrooms were in the back, and she heard the kids’ voices coming from a corridor.

She didn’t want to think about the fucking Morrigan, or was it the fucking The Morrigan? She wasn’t sure, but she didn't want to imagine Azriel with her. Didn’t want to imagine him with any models, frankly.

Suddenly, while her brain was working in overdrive, conjuring wild images of passionate embraces between Azriel and faceless naked models, Azriel’s muscular arm slipped around her shoulders from behind, and he rested his chin on top of her head, whispering ‘come here’. Elain wrapped her hands over his thick forearm and he kissed her temple.

“Don’t think about them, beautiful. I am not a player like that, and truthfully, that part of my life is over. Seven years was enough. I am not a drug dealer or a coke head. I’ve made a name for myself and a shit ton of money and that’s all that matters.”

“And now?”

“And now, I still photograph, but I specialise in celebs now–their private photos, or their editorials. That’s what pays the bills–the money is very good.”

“I can see that,” she noted dryly and he laughed.

“I like action photography–sports, nature, cities. That’s what I do for myself and for sales. That’s where my heart is at. Not celebrities and their weirdly named babies like Lucky Charms, and Huggie Lovie, or Baby Mr. T, and Antarctica.”

Elain was shaking in his arms with laughter.

“Rich coming from a man who named his son Darius!”

Pretending outrage, he cried out, “Excuse me?! What the hell is wrong with Darius?”

“It’s a hella name for a baby.”

“He is fine. He carries it well.”

“I love Darius, actually,” she admitted.

He said nothing, but only nosed into her head, holding her against his massive chest, the steel bands of his arms wrapped tightly around her chest.

“I am scared, Azriel,” Elain breathed.

“Of what, baby?”

“Of not doing this right. Of losing you before I even got you,”

“You got me, beautiful,” he insisted. “Don't worry.”

“But what if I am just not good enough? You dated The Morrigan,”

“You mean the chick who got pregnant, dumped her newborn with a guy who fucked her a couple of times, and then walked away never to even inquire about her son again? Yeah, she is a real prize!”

Elain chewed on her lower lip, thinking.

When he put it like that…

…”Stay with me,” Azriel murmured, his voice pleading, verging on desperate.

“I have to go home,” Elain argued feebly.

It was just the two of them.

They had dinner, and it felt like a family, the four of them seated around the table, not at the counter, like usual, but a proper table. They ate amazing lobster ravioli, which Azriel had admitted he didn’t make, but got freshly made from his favourite Italian place. He did cook an incredible fresh tomato and light cream sauce, which was truly mouthwatering. Elain had helped him, by making a simple salad, dressed with lemon juice and olive oil–he had the good, expensive Italian stuff, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. The kids drank mineral water and Azriel had opened a bottle of Chablis, which went surprisingly well with the ravioli. He had cloth napkins and nice, white dishes. And as she ate, Elain thought that truly, they were a different kind of pair. They were not…usual. Neither she nor Azriel liked to rush. They enjoyed the nicer things in life. She had less money than he did, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t strive for the best for herself and for her daughter. They liked conversation. They liked involving their children in everything, and they treated them with respect and understanding. There were no phones at the table, nothing to disturb the connection. And not for the first time this week, Elain thought that perhaps she could build something with this strange man. They matched. Maybe too much, which was both a little scary, but also extremely exciting.

“No, you don’t,” he insisted.

His big palms cupped her face and he looked down at her.

“You don’t have to go,” he repeated. “It’s Friday night. There is no school or work tomorrow. I am sure both Isa and Darius would love to have a sleepover.”

Elain’s throat bobbed.

He smelled good. He felt even better. His massive hands felt heavenly on her skin. His eyes were warm and his voice urgent.

“I would say that I’d be a gentleman and not try anything,” he continued, “but that would be a lie. Because all I want is to make love to you. Let me. Let me make love to you and be your first.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she whispered, her heart beating wildly in her chest and she was considering whether he should call 911, because she might be suffering from some kind of cardiac emergency. Was it normal to be so hot? Was 25 too early for hot flashes? Because that’s how it felt–she was engulfed in heat.

He huffed an indignant huff.

“Come on, we both know that that one time was just to make Isa. He was just a sperm donor, nothing else. The only reason for him to have existed in your life is to make your gorgeous daughter, and she eventually brought us together. You and I, beautiful, were written in the stars. There is no denying it. You know this in your gut. Everything led us here, and it’s up to you to take the bull by the horns.

“It’s all pipes,” he concluded.

“All pipes?” she laughed a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, the universe is working really hard to bring the two of us together. All pipes.”

“What happens after?” she managed to ask, doubt still rearing its ugly head inside of her.

“After? After we live,” he pressed his lips to her brow. “We do our best, the way we always have. Only we do it together.”

“You are relentless.”

“You have no idea.”

She nervously fingered the hem of her shirt and then whispered, “will you stop…if I don’t want it?”

“Well, I am not going to rape you, if that’s what you are asking.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she argued instantly, blushing profusely.

He didn’t answer, but instead, called ‘Darius, Isa! Come here!”

They ran into the room a few minutes later and stopped, watching him expectantly.

“Mama and I wanted to see if you guys wanted to have a sleepover?” Azriel asked, his arm casually draped over Elain’s shoulders. When he said ‘mama and I’ it did something to her–something warm and amazing and needy in her belly.

“Yes!” Darius declared immediately. Then asked, “what this be sleepover?”

Elain attempted to hide her smile, and buried her face in Azriel’s shoulder.

Azriel handled it perfectly, simply explaining, “you and Isa are going to sleep in your room.”

“Oh, that’s fun!” Isa exclaimed.

“Yes, I want it so much!” Darius agreed, bouncing on his toes.

And just like that, it was all decided and settled.

Isa was dressed in Darius’s PJs which were in fact big on her. There was a convertible armchair in Darius’s bedroom, which they made into Isa’s bed, and she was thrilled to be sleeping in a new place.

“I love sleepover!” Darius concluded, as soon as he was in bed and tucked in, Brute the Bat next to him. As any good host he offered Brute to Isa, who politely declined, and instead, opted for a stuffed rabbit.

“Good night you two,” Elain told them and then went to kiss them both.

“Night, ma! You gonna have a sleepover too?” Isa asked.

“I think that I will,” Elain admitted.

“You have fun Lain!” Darius recommended and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll take care of her,” Azriel wrapped his arm possessively around Elain’s waist and tugged her to him.

“Dada is nice,” Darius informed Elain seriously. “You can have sleepover with him, Lain.”

The moment the door was closed behind them and they took two steps into the hallway, Azriel turned to face Elain. His face was beautiful, but intense. He watched her without blinking, and then stated, ‘you are nervous'.

“I am,” she confirmed, her voice hoarse and weird.

God, she was sweating again. Her back was dripping with nervous sweat and she felt like she was about to faint.

“Don’t be,” he whispered.

Suddenly, his big hand threaded into her bun and he wrapped her hair around his hand, pulling her face back for a moment and looking down at her from his massive height.

“Tell me to kiss you,” he urged her, his voice even rougher than hers.

She loved the gesture of dominance, him holding her like that, but she also loved that he was asking her so politely.

“Kiss me then,” she said at last and without missing a beat, he crushed his lips to hers.

His was a hungry, needy kiss, the kind Elain always wanted to experience, but never had the chance. The kiss no one ever offered her before.

Azriel’s lips were soft, and there was gentleness about them, about how he enveloped her mouth with his, but at the same time, he took what he wanted from her. Her lips parted for his tongue without any prompting and she leaned into him, momentarily forgetting her nervousness. It didn’t matter somehow–it felt too good. The nearness of him, the hold of his warm hands on her body, the way he clasped the back of her head so he could keep her the way he wanted her–it felt incredible.

“So beautiful,” he whispered into her mouth, holding her close, while she wrapped her arms around his torso, unwilling to let him go. Now, if he wanted to stop this, she probably wouldn’t let him.

“Ahhh, now you want it, my beautiful girl,” he teased, his hot, wet tongue swiping over her lips, her teeth, learning of her and her taste. “But if you want me to stop,”

“Okay, don’t stop,” she panted, kissing him endlessly, feverishly. Azriel barked a laugh at her words and returned to kissing her.

Good god it felt good. So good to be wanted, to be genuinely liked. Under her shirt, Elain’s breasts felt achy, swollen, and her nipples were so hard, they’d probably rip right through her bra. However, she and Azriel haven't even made it to the bedroom yet!

As if reading her mind, Azriel’s hand fell down the small of her back and he grabbed a handful of her ass, squeezing it appreciatively.

“God I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he moaned. “You are so incredibly delicious…Every bit of you is just so fine.”

Half-dragging her next to him, they stumbled down the corridor, ambling towards the bedroom. Thankfully, it was at the end of the hallway, quite removed from Darius’s room.

If she were being entirely honest with herself, Elain didn’t care right now. He could probably fuck her right on the floor here, and she wouldn’t bat an eye. They bumped into walls as they pawed at each other, kissing and biting and licking. He kissed her neck hungirly, tasting her skin, his warm lips gliding up and down, from her clavicle to her jaw. Elain whimpered when he dragged his tongue over the pulsating vein of her neck and he chuckled, “My eager girl,” as he returned to her mouth, kissing her savagely and deeply.

Shouldering the bedroom door he opened it swiftly, and then kicked it back to close it behind them.

He dropped Elain on the bed and then stepped back.

“On your knees, sweetheart. Hands on your lap,” he instructed, and Elain followed his command at once. She could barely even understand what he was telling her, and moved to the sound of his voice instinctively, as opposed to actually listening to his commands. But she liked it–innately, she liked it when he told her what to do and she didn’t know why.

“Beautiful,” he approved, as he stroked her cheek and moved surprisingly slowly towards her, watching her with endless fascination. No one’s ever looked at her like that and saw her. She wasn’t just a pretty girl, or someone he wanted to fuck–she was desirable to him. The emotional connection was unsettling, crossing into intimacy, but perhaps that’s what Elain craved deep down. Her hands were shaking on her lap. But she wanted him to continue looking at her like that. It was a combination of possessiveness, need, curiosity, and some strange protectiveness, as if in the end, he wanted to keep her safe and whole.

“Do you trust me, baby?” he asked, his tone soft.

Elain nodded. She did. Again, instinctively. She trusted him to do right by her–whatever that looked like for the two of them.

With one hand, he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor without ever taking his eyes off Elain. Seeing his body made her jaw go slack. His muscles were lean and perfectly defined, his skin decorated with tattoos, his arms scarred to the elbow, the V leading into his jeans so prominent, it was almost indecent. Elain’s never seen such definition on any actual human (Olympic athletes notwithstanding).

“Lie down, pretty girl,” he told her and she did, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, other than Azriel’s stunning body and his face, and she was only vaguely aware that his bed was huge and that the city was twinkling with lights somewhere outside the enormous windows. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he requested and Elain slowly did as she was told, her long silk skirt falling down her thighs and pooling on her stomach. She was barefoot already, having taken her sandals off after dinner, when they played with the kids.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, and sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on her belly and quickly unbuttoning the two buttons at the waist. He pulled the skirt off her hips then, and flung it on the floor, where it joined his shirt. Elain could feel herself soaking through her cotton panties–she didn’t have the fancy kind, so she went with her usual plain cotton and lace ones. Now, she was getting so hot and bothered that she felt herself leaking for him. And he saw it. He looked right between her thighs and smiled, running her thumb straight down the centre of her. Elain jerked on the bed, a jittery, pathetic moan escaping her parted lips. Azriel leaned over her, and kissed her again, his tongue gently sweeping inside her mouth, sucking her own, making her delirious with his kisses, while he gingerly worked her panties down her legs.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he murmured, once she was laying half naked in front of him. “So gorgeous and all mine,” he added, lightly, but firmly pushing her thighs further apart, spreading her widely.

“Az,” she groaned loudly,

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“I need more.”

“And you will get more,” he kissed her bare knees, “I just want to look at your pretty pink pussy right now…Remember what I told you I wanted to do to you?”

She licked her lips, feeling exposed, but also so, so sexy, lying like that in front of him. No man’s ever seen her like this, certainly not in such explicit detail, but she liked it. So she opened her thighs even wider, eliciting a muffled groan of appreciation from him.

“Finger me,” she recalled, blushing from the words, which made it real somehow. The words were crude, but her position didn’t bother her–she was tense as fuck, but from arousal, and not fear or discomfort.

“What else?” he pressed, and then carefully pinched her folds and pulled them apart, while she moaned and arched her back for him, grabbing the bed covers violently and wrenching them in her hands.

“You wanted to eat my pussy,” she choked out, closing her eyes and feeling like she was losing her mind.

“Is your pussy sweet?” he asked rhetorically, kissing the inside of her thigh.

“I don’t know,”

“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” With that, he dropped to his knees in front of her by the bed and pulled her roughly forward, pressing her feet into his shoulders. He leaned forward, pushing her legs to her chest, his massive shoulders immobilising her, while he picked up her ass in his large palms and brought her closer to his mouth.

Elain stilled. She really hoped that she wouldn’t have a massive coronary right then and there. This was a man she hardly knew, who was not just staring at her bare pussy, but who was…oh lordy lord…yep, he licked it.

Her pained inhale was so loud, it sounded like a moan.

“Azriel…” she wept. He kissed her. Kissed her slit, the way he kissed her mouth. He kissed her opening. He kissed her folds. He kissed her firmly, deeply over her clit, making her buckle and wail, while he held her down and close to his mouth. He was unperturbed by how she strained against him, but only stroked her legs up from her feet all the way to her upper thighs, as he gently, but insistently sucked on her swollen bud.

“Az, Az,” she whimpered desperately, but he only swirled his tongue around the clit, and sucked on it insistently, his mouth so warm, and so wonderful that it was turning her inside out. He licked and he sucked, steadily, with rhythmic slurping around her dripping slit, caressing her body as he went at it with a blissed out expression on his face.

She hardly dared to look down between her legs, for seeing his hazel eyes watching her and her reactions was almost painfully intimate. But the noises of satisfaction, and his grunts of pleasure told her everything that she needed to know–Azriel was enjoying tasting her just as much as she enjoyed being sucked and licked. It was wet and sensual and she loved it when his tongue swirled inside her hole, but she never ever imagined that this could feel as good as he was making it.

Her legs were shaking, but he kept stroking them soothingly, as if knew that she was experiencing things that she’d never felt before, and she needed extra support from him. But he wasn’t gentle. He bit the wet folds of her pussy with little nips, before clamping his teeth over her clit and holding it hostage, while he licked on it fervently with the flat pad of his tongue. Her toes curled on his shoulders and she tried to hold back the scream that was building inside her chest from the delicious, sublime pleasure-pain that he was offering her so willingly.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod,” she chanted brokenly and he gave her a stern look over her heaving belly, though he didn’t interrupt his sucking of her clit, and shook his head.

“Azriel,” she corrected herself, and he smiled into her pussy, nodding his approval.

Pressing his teeth tighter over her swollen, painfully engorged clit, which felt like it was buzzing from the inside, he slowly eased one finger into her, pushing bluntly inside her hole.

“Oh fuuuuck,” she cried pitifully, because he slipped a second finger, and then a third, in quick succession. It hurt. She was sloppily wet, but she was tight and his long, thick fingers stretched her to a painful point. But a cry of ‘more, more, please,’ tore from her, as she pushed her slit into his face. What if she killed him? Suffocated him with her pussy? But considering how hard his hand was working inside of her, fingering her with brutal, stunning determination, she figured that he was far from death. His hand battered into her, merciless and wonderful, and she moaned loudly and endlessly.

It was too much. All of it was too much.

She should’ve taken him on his offer a week ago and let him finger her in the kitchen. Because this…

This was insane. Astounding.

His hot, harsh-skinned hand snaked up her stomach and he pulled her bra cup down without any preliminaries, baring her aching tit to the cool air. He squeezed it roughly, and Elain loved it–how he was able to hold her whole breast in his hand, and how he pinched her nipple in his fingers. This man was like a damn octopus–he had 40 hands and 20 suction cups in his mouth, because he managed to overstimulate every part of her body.

And the fingering…oh god…the fingering was beyond fantastic. It was beyond anything Elain ever dreamed of. The feeling of that massive penetrating hand, how he pushed the walls of her pussy apart, how he stretched and moulded her over his hand was so pornographically erotic that she’d lost all inhibitions. There were no inhibitions for her to even think about. He’d stripped her down to her core and forced her to let go and enjoy every moment of this.

When he removed his hand from her breast, she whined from the loss, but also watched him unbutton the top two buttons of his jeans, exposing the most delicious-looking trail of hair, which she yearned to lick. She could see the huge bulge in his jeans and the size of him made her feverishly excited, and nervous. She understood why he was fingering her so hard–he needed to prepare her for his massive-looking dick.

“More…” she begged desperately, her body arcing so hard off the bed, she was almost sitting up by now. And then he bit her. He bit her clit hard, and rammed his fingers deeper, which made her lose her mind and she screamed a loud, trembling cry, which filled the space between them. Hot and sweaty and shaking uncontrollably, Elain came and came and came. She orgasmed so hard, her ears popped.

Azriel tore his face from her pussy, giving her clit one parting lick and then she watched him, almost in slow motion, release his cock from his jeans.

The moment of clarity made her gasp and hiss ‘Jesus fuck’ at the sight of him.

That’s what happened when you dated a guy who was over 6”5. He had an ‘over 6”5’ dick.

He looked at her and then cupped her flushed cheek in his hand.

“You want me inside, baby?” he asked hoarsely, and Elain reared upwards and licked his wet face, tasting herself on his skin.

“Yes,” she breathed. “More than anything,”

He gave himself a few hearty rugs, which Elain found mesmerising.

“Funny how this happened,” he chuckled.

“What?”

“Well, I wanted to taste you, finger you and watch you come–and just like that, I’ve accomplished it all!”

Before she could respond, he grunted,

“Take that dick then, beautiful,” hefting her back up on the bed and then propping himself on his hands and knees above her. Elain knew that she looked a mess, with her shirt still on, falling off one shoulder and hastily unbuttoned, her breast bare, her bra askew, but he also looked dishevelled, still wearing his jeans, his thick, perfect cock bobbing at his navel. Yes, his cock was perfect–straight, thick, long, smooth. He propped her legs on his forearms and then slowly, but steadily eased the thick head of his dick inside of her.

The push of his shaft was unwaveringly firm, solid and the thickness of him made Elain’s eyes roll back in her head. She didn’t even know if it was pleasure or pain–some unholy combination of both–but she convulsed wildly around him and the heft of his burning hot dick.

“Laney, my baby, you feel like melted butter,” he smiled at her, while the progression of his shaft continued inside of her. “How does it feel?”

“Please never stop,” she begged, as tears slipped from her eyes. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Because it felt incredibly good? Because he cared about her? Because she was falling in love? She didn’t know, but she was being honest–she never wanted it to stop.

And then he was thrusting into her, deep and hard, his hips steady and powerful, as he filled and emptied her again and again. Elain couldn’t keep her eyes open, and she panted heavily, unconcerned about the crazed sounds that she emitted. She was just feeling him. She felt overstuffed, wet, hot, exhausted, pumped up, desperately horny, and massively overstimulated. Her clit rubbed into that fabulous patch of hair and against his stomach, and with every pump of his hips, Elain rose higher and higher, crying like a madwoman, shaking and thrashing beneath him. His rough hands roamed about her body, feeling her, stroking her, squeezing her, while he pounded into her savagely, building her up with every shove of his dick.

“Azriel, it’s…how…what is…what is this?” she babbled mindlessly.

“That’s your dick, beautiful. Use it and come all over it.” he ordered her, and increased the speed of his thrusts.

“It feels too good,” she whispered weakly. “I can’t…”

“It feels just right,” he insisted, kissing her voraciously, and licking her tongue with impatient swipes of his tongue.

She ran her hands over his tattooed skin, burning with warmth and misted with sweat beneath her palms. And then she was orgasming again, over and over, all around his relentless cock. He watched her from his position, smiling at her and whispering words of encouragement and praise, while she screamed his name into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. In some feat of astonishing athleticism, he held her up, as she hung onto him like a needy koala, his cock still firmly buried in her, moving rapidly inside.

Elain was so beyond understanding what was going on, she didn’t even comprehend their ridiculous position. But Azriel held her up, as she clenched around him, her ankles wrapped tightly around his back, her mouth starved for his tongue.

“Come for me,” he murmured, “let me have this perfect pussy…”

“It’s yours,” she wept breathlessly.

She was floating somewhere in her head, her body still rocked by the aftershocks of the earth shattering orgasms that he offered her so easily and freely. Her core was stretch to the limit, and yet he still rode her, his arms tense, his powerful body coiled from strain of fucking her and holding her up.

“Let me come in you, my beautiful girl,” he muttered, kissing her head, her face, her lips.

“I want it, Az. It’s yours,” she panted, her pussy pulsing and milking him, “it’s for you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he kissed her and gently laid her back on the mattress, holding her knees apart, as he pumped hard and fast into her.

He came deeply and voluptuously, the hot seed painting her womb, a guttural moan of pure pleasure tearing from his throat.

It felt…magical. Everything about him was raw and hard and passionate, and Elain took all of it. Everything that he gave her.

He tweaked her nipple in his fingers, and then stroked her face with his knuckles, looking down at her with complete adoration.

“You are perfect,” he whispered. “And mine.”

“I think that I am,” she nodded, chasing his fingertips with her lips. He let her kiss them and pushed hard into her, keeping his cock and his cum deep inside of her.

“Do you want to taste me, baby?”

Elain licked her lips, looking him up and down, his stunning torso and his pleasure-tinted expression.

Before she could answer, he pulled her up and said, “open up” as he withdrew his cock from her and then thrust it firmly in her mouth, easing between her lips.

“Good girl,” he approved and patted her head, while she looked at him, trying to acquaint herself with the girth and heaviness of him in her mouth. He was covered in her wetness and his cum, but for some reason, it didn’t bother her.

“Have you ever sucked dick before?” he asked, massaging the back of her neck slowly, wiping her sweaty brow with his knuckles.

She was barely able to move her head, but she shook it ‘no’.

He smiled and ordered, “you’ll suck me off, pretty girl.”

Elain was nervous because she’s never done this before, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t want to. He placed his hand on her head, keeping her in place and his cock nudged forward, sliding in carefully, but firmly. The head of him bumped into the back of her throat and she gasped, but seeing the tremble that her involuntary suck caused, she held onto him, opening wider. His eyes closed and he began slowly, pushing in and out of her wet mouth, allowing her to acclimate to the feel of him. But he was firm as always, holding her head motionless and thrusting slightly deeper with each push.

“That’s my good girl,” he approved. “Take me deeper, sweetheart.”

He gained speed and set a brisk pace, using her for his pleasure, just like she used him before.

She cleaned him completely with her tongue and now just used it to swirl over the head and the underside of his shaft, sucking noisily, breathing through her nose. He gagged her a few times, but she didn’t mind it and he didn’t change his rhythm.

“I want to come in your mouth,” he grunted, his breathing heavier, and his movements becoming jerkier. “Shake your head if you don’t want me to.”

Elain looked up at him with her tear-stained eyes, and didn’t move her head.

“Oh thank god,” he panted, holding her head between his palms and pushing his cock harder into her mouth. “Choke on it,” he muttered, when she did. “You are so beautiful.”

Elain dug her fingers into his iron-hard ass, slipping them beneath his jeans, while he fucked her mouth hard. Maybe she was beautiful to him? By the look of his deeply pleased expression, it seemed like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Swallow everything, baby,” he trembled with exertion and exploded in her throat. Elain swallowed greedily, wanting every drop of him. He was hot and salty and heady, and maybe it was strange, but she found him absolutely delicious.

He came long and hard, and she swallowed everything, stroking his thighs, his hands, watching him. His breathing was shallow, and when he finally took his cock out of her mouth, he dipped down and kissed her.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted, Ellie,” he admitted, finally pulling his jeans off and sliding next to her on the bed. Elain rolled on her side and watched him, while he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Maybe he was everything that she wanted as well.

…It was later in the night, when she was sleeping in his arms, both of them naked and comfortable, that she wondered if history was about to repeat itself.

Epilogue

9 months later

Azriel opened the door and entered the lounge. It was like the Sleeping Kingdom from Sleeping Beauty.

Darius and Isabella were asleep next to each other on the love seat, a pink blanket draped over them. In an armchair opposite of them, Feyre was curled into a ball, dead to the world, snoring lightly. Finally, on the larger couch, Cassian sat with his head thrown back, his posture relaxed, his legs spread comfortably. Nesta’s head rested on his thigh, which she was using as a pillow. It didn’t escape Azriel that even in their sleep, their hands were clasped and fingers threaded together.

Gone was his brother the Mountain Man. Cassian Night cleaned up his act for his woman.

On the floor, there was an array of toys–dragons, princesses, finger puppets, books and whatever else Cassian chose to entertain his niece and nephew with. He always went overboard and the kids loved it.

Cassian’s eyes fluttered and then opened, as he straightened immediately and peered at Azriel.

“You were supposed to be babysitting,” Azriel chuckled, shaking his head.

“We technically are!”

“Yeah, three adults in the room and everyone is asleep.”

‘I am not asleep. I am just resting my eyes.”

Then, Cassian paused and finally asked, a smile on his face.

“So, what do I owe you, brother? A bottle of Glenfiddich or a bottle of Cristal?”

“Glenfiddich,” Azriel whispered, smiling broadly, his eyes moist with tears. And then he clapped his hands and announced, “we have a boy! My gorgeous stunner of a wife just gave us a son. Our baby Lance was born at 3:14 am. He is 10 lb 4 oz. and 23 inches.”

“A boy?” they heard Nesta’s awed whisper, as she raised her head from Cassian’s lap.

“Congrats to us, Nessie. We are an aunt and an uncle. AGAIN. Which means we are next, Nes!” Cassian announced jovially.

She gave him ‘the look’ and muttered, “Excuse me?”

“Yep. We should have a little girl. We’ll name her Sutton,”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Yeah, Sutton Night.”

“I am not having Sutton!” Nesta protested.

Cassian cupped the back of her head in his enormous hand and planted a hearty kiss on her lips.

“Yeah, you are,” he insisted. “They,” he jerked his shoulder at Azriel, “have three! We have none. It’s time, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but we are not naming her Sutton,”

He kissed her again and said,

“Whatever my lady prefers is fine by me.”

“Let’s go look at that baby,” Nesta decided.

Lance Night was born exactly nine months and a week after the Princess Tea Party where his parents met, and started a new family.

#elriel #elainarcheronweek2023 #elainarcheronweek #princess tea party #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #Elriel fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 7 months

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Feynman: When we were talking about the atoms, one of the troubles that people have with the atoms is that they're so tiny, and it's so hard to imagine the scale.

The size of the atoms are in size - compared to an apple, it's the same scale as an apple is to the size of the Earth. And that's a kind of a hard thing to take, and you have to go through all these things all the time, and people find these numbers inconceivable. And I do too.

The only thing you do is you just change your scale. I mean, you're just thinking of small balls, but you don't try to think of exactly how small they are too often! Or you'd get kind of a bit nutty, alright?

But in astronomy, you have the same thing in reverse because the distances to these stars is so enormous, you see. You know that light goes so fast that it only takes a few seconds to go to the moon and back, or it goes around the Earth seven-and-a-half times in a second. And goes for a year, two years, three years before it gets to the nearest other star that there is to us.

But all of our stars are... the stars that are nearby in a great galaxy, a big mass of stars, which is called a galaxy, a group, well this, our galaxy is... what is it? Something like a hundred thousand light years, a hundred thousand years.

And then there's another patch of stars. It takes a million years for the light to get here, going at this enormous rate.

And you just go crazy trying to make too "real" that distance, you have to do everything in proportion. It's easy - you say the galaxies are little patches of stars and they're ten times as far apart as they are big.

So that's an easy picture, you know - he gets it. But you just go to a different scale, that's easier. You know, once in a while you try to come back to... Earth scale to discuss the galaxies but it's kind of hard.

The number of stars that we see at night is about - only about 5,000. But the number of stars in our galaxy, the telescopes have shown when you improve the instrument... Oh! We look at a galaxy. We look at the stars. All the light that we see, the little tiny and influent spreads from the star over this enormous distance of what? Three light years, for the nearest star. On, on, on! This light from the stars spreading, the wavefronts are getting wider and wider, weaker and weaker, weaker and weaker out into all of space, and finally the tiny fraction of it comes in one square, eighth of an inch, tiny little black hole and does something to me, so I know it's there.

Well, to know a little bit more about it, I'd rather gather a little more of this little, this tiny fraction of this front of light, and so I make a big telescope, which is a kind of funnel that the light that comes over this big area - 200 inches across - is very carefully organised, so it's all concentrated back so it can go through a... pupil. Actually, it's better to photograph it, or nowadays they use photo cells, they're a better instrument.

But anyway, the idea of the telescope is to focus the light from a bigger area into a smaller area so that we can see things that are weaker, less light, and in that way we find there's a very large number of stars in the galaxy.

There's so many that if you tried to name them, one a second, naming all the stars in our galaxy, I don't mean all the stars in the universe, just this galaxy here, it takes 3,000 years.

And yet, that's not a very big number. Because if those stars were to drop one dollar bill on the Earth during a year, each star dropping one dollar bill, they might take care of the deficit which is suggested for the budget of the United States.

So you see what kind of numbers we have to deal with!

#Richard Feynman #space #astronomy #magnitude #scale #galaxy #milky way galaxy #light speed #speed of light #light year #science #religion is a mental illness

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

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könig being a fixer AND autistic?!

no but seriously, it makes sense, and i kinda dig it for all the wrong reasons. IMAGINE engel being just as autistic as him but being in ruins! she has a no job, she hates her life, she’s always horny because she get no dick, and she has no one to be passionate with because she’s always isolated in her own little world, and könig is just standing there, staring at her like “ahh~ my ideal type!”. and they both may be walking red flags but engel is seeing nothing but green for this man because of how willing he is to just breathe next to her, and for her, that’s more than enough to get with him. plus she can be dependent on him and könig can take care of her, so it’s a win-win situation.

ugh i love two toxic people being toxic together and supporting each others toxicity!

Ahh my god I love you & and I love these two nutties!!

And yes I have this hc of König being either autistic or AD/HD (these two actually share traits). Social anxiety paired with AD/HD would explain some of his behavior in the field, but autism would explain the social awkwardness...? Contrary to the popular belief autistic people actually feel very deeply (ty very much 💋), they may have difficulties in expressing emotion but inside there’s like a well of it – I think it would fit perfectly in König’s psychological profile as this socially handicapped individual with an intense persona.

Also - and this is just my take - social anxiety in König’s case doesn't make him a shy "Don’t bully me I’ll cum" sub (love that shirt btw). It makes him want to kill every other person in the room because they suck and make his chest feel tight...? People who have been severely bullied often experience blinding rage; they don’t necessarily turn into shy, demure individuals. I would dress König in a "Don’t bully me I’ll shoot you" shirt 👀

What I absolutely love about your adorable imagine is the Engel in ruins bit. These two have so much love-starved loner energy that of course they notice each other from miles away and fall in love instantly! And two autistic people being intense and passionate with each other, I literally can't 😭❤️‍🔥 throw red flags all over the place too and you get the love story of the century, right? Other people may see the relationship as cringe and unhealthy, but who the hell cares – not them, because no one sees the world like they do. After all, they are the ones who are normal in a sick world.

#answered #yandere könig

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cellythefloshie · 12 days

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;; Icebreaker Chapter Three of Cool for the Summer

Table of Contents Chapter Two «« 🤍 »» Chapter Four

Summary: Harper has to work, but that doesn't stop Andrei from trying to get to know her. TW: No triggers apply. Word Count: 4k+

This series to be read in conjecture with @hockeyboysimagines I Loved You Three Summers.

That heaviness your body has when you've actually slept through the night without interruption? Harper had it. It was a fog on her mind as she rolled over in her bed, her hand searching the darkness for where her phone had fallen after aimlessly scrolling through social media when her mind had been too loud to sleep. Blindly, she searched until the covers, her bare legs tangling with the blankets until she found it tucked until one of her too fluffy pillows that had been pushed to the other side of the bed. Her eyes squinted, preparing for the bright light of her phone as she pressed the power nutty again and again, but the light never came. It was dead.

Cursing, she pushed her blanket aside, her mind and body now suddenly awake as she searched a nearby box for her digital clock. Her hands fumbled over familiar objects, catching corners and awkward shapes before she saw the deep neon green glow of the snooze button. She dropped to her knees; the carpet burning her knees as she fished out the box and read the big bold numbers. Then, as quickly as she picked it up from the box, Harper was dropping it back into her mess of belongings.

She was late.

Pounding against her chest, and up into her ears was her heart as she moved through the room like a summer storm. Harper tripped over boxes as she lurched for a light switch, but the harsh fluorescent lights were still not enough to keep her from kicking the bed as she walked by it, nor could she seem to find anything she needed for her workday. Every bit of her life was still packed away in a box in a room that was familiar, yet it didn't feel like her own.

She stumbled through just as she stumbled through life, on the verge of tears and a veil of self confidence as she pulled on the same shirt she had worn the day before and a pair of yoga pants from the top of one of the boxes. Quick hands pulled her blond hair back in a messy ponytail and for time's sake she would go barefaced. Then, Harper was taking the stairs two steps at a time and moved straight for the kitchen.

Makeup could be skipped, but coffee could not.

Passing her sister, who sat propped up on the stool at the kitchen island, Harper envied her for only a moment. If only for her calm in the early morning, and the big bowl of watermelon that sat in front of her on the counter.

Harper's stomach growled, her eyes shutting as she tried to ignore the feeling of hunger that became all the more consuming as she stood in the kitchen. Her hands fumbled around her cup, ice rumbling in the refrigerator as it spilled down into the cup. Some rattle there. While others missed and fell to the floor. She groaned, so close to swearing and tossing her cup into the sink. But she persisted. Even as the ice tumbled to the floor again, she did her best not to let it get to her - even if sitting in a drive through for an ice coffee just seemed easier. She needed to do it for herself.

A heavy breath rocked her, the rush of hair blowing loose hair that had fallen out of her ponytail out of her face.

“I won't be home until after dinner, running club tonight so don't worry about me-” Harper's words were rushed as she rounded the counter, one hand putting her coffee down to pick up her work bag before she was hugging her sister in a quick embrace - hoping that if her shirt stunk, Maddie would be bold enough to tell her before she left. But when they exchanged nothing more than soft, tired smiles and see you later, Harper was stepping into a pair of Crocs and running out the door.

Stumbling down the steps, she almost lost one of the bright sunshine yellow Crocs. Her steps stuttered as she tried to fit her foot back into it just right as she jogged down the crowded driveway to her Jeep that was parked on the street, out of the way until she could return to U-Haul by the end of the night, hopefully.

Her hand fell to the handle, pulling it twice before she realized she hadn't unlocked the door. Harper dug through her work bag, searching for her keys. It was with her head down, as she mumbled to herself about how she should just call in and cancel all her appointments to her day, that Harper was greeted by a thick low Russian accent that left her jolting with the sudden realization that she wasn't alone.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Harper glanced back over her shoulder and to the driveway that neighbors hers. Seth and Andrei stood in it, fully dressed for their days and smiling. Smiling when she wanted to do nothing more than scream and cry and go back to bed when nothing seemed to be going right. She hated it.

“Work,” she answered him simply as her hands wrapped around the keys. Her thumb pressed down on the fob, unlocking it with ease.

“What do you do?” Andrei asked, his hands falling into the pockets of his shorts as he moved down the drive.

Harper bit the inside of her cheek. He was a good kid; she was sure of it, but she didn't have time for this.

“Physiotherapy,” she kept her answer short as she climbed into the front seat, leaving the door open as she settled in. Harper needed to go, but she wasn't going to slam the door in his face.

“When do you get off?”

Second thought, maybe she should slam the door in his face.

“Late,” she bit out as she reached up to fix her rear-view mirror.

“So, you'll need a lunch date, then?”

Harper's eyes rolled at his boldness. Oh, how nice it must be to be so young, attractive and used to getting everything you wanted. And no one could tell her Andrei was treated otherwise. Not when the cocky, confident smile he wore said it all. The boy wasn't used to rejection, on or off the ice.

“If you want to see me between the hours of nine and five, you'll have to make an appointment,” Harper took a breath, the professionalism in her words almost exhausting as her hand dropped to her cupholder where her cup of coffee was supposed to be.

Harper leaned her back against her headrest, defeated. Her coffee was still on the counter.

“Are you al-” Harper could hear the concern in Andrei's voice as he stood just outside the front door of her Jeep, her eyes watering, on the verge of tears as she started to get out of the car to rush back inside for her drink.

But then she sees Maddie practically tiptoeing over the cold driveway, her iced coffee in hand. She's still in her pajamas, an oversized t-shirt that doesn't quite seem long enough and a pair of frilly pink shorts that Harper hoped was a big enough distraction for Andrei to forget that he was so close to seeing her cry.

“You're a lifesaver, Mads!” Harper sighed, reaching out with one hand for the coffee before forcing a smile and looking up at Andrei, who still lingered nearby. Who still wore a look of concern as he looked down at her perched in her driver's seat.

Her skin crawled under the gaze of the unwanted attention, her hands reaching out to grasp at the steering wheel as she tried to divert his attention away from her. “I work today, but Maddie here, she's free all day,” she spoke quickly, hoping Maddie wouldn't mind.

“Maddie, this is Seth's friend, Andrew-”

“Andrei,” he was quick to correct her.

“Right,” she nodded, not even looking at it in fear that he would somehow see in her eyes or on her features that she knew his name, first and last. Or somehow learn that her curiosity had gotten the best of her and that she had spent the better part of her night scrolling his NHL stats page when she couldn't sleep. “You three should do something.”

The suggestion seemed sweet, sincere, as she reached up and pulled her sunglasses from the sun visor. Forcing a smile, Harper slid them up the bridge of her nose and offered the pair a wave before she left them as nothing but a reflection of her rearview.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sweat dripped in beads down the back of Andrei's neck. Not the shade of the golf cart, or the ball cap he wore on his head, could save him from the heat of the sun as it continued to rise in the sky. They couldn't have been on the course for more than an hour, but it had already felt like it had been all day. Andrei didn't know why it felt that way. Maybe it was simply the heat, or maybe it was the fact they were only on the third hole and Seth was still busy trying to teach Madison how to hit a golf ball.

The petite blonde stood in the tee zone, taking her time positioning herself around the tee as she shook out her thick hair that hung down her back in waves. Maddison had an effortless beauty, one that other women wanted and one any guy would have gone crazy for - and Seth was every bit of his attention devoted to her as he guided her every move with his words or a casual touch. But Andrei’s mind was still thinking of Harper.

Leaning against the back of the golf cart, Andrei sipped back an ice cold water bottle and tried to rid his mind of the sad look in her eyes that she had when she drove to work earlier in the morning. It made his heart sink. He didn’t know her - and it was clear in the short time he had gotten to speak to her that she was far from interested in getting to know him - but that didn’t deter Andrei. A beautiful girl like her deserved to smile, and he wanted to be the one to do it.

His hand dipped into the pocket of his shorts, grasping at it as he hesitated to draw it out. Andrei wanted to find out where she worked. He wanted to go there, to bring her lunch and try to brighten her day. But he also knew how weird that was. It would be creepy to stalk her out like that, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask Madison about her. Would it?

Leaning into the cart, Andrei put his water into the cup holder before approaching Maddie and Seth at the tee, interrupting the conversation they were having with his own selfish question. “So, your sister, she doesn’t like me. Yes?”

Maddie turned in place, her shoulders tensing, then relaxing as she looked him up and down with a small smile on her lips. “Now, why would you think that?” She cocked her head to the side, her wide blue eyes bright with the sparkle of mischief.

Andrei’s shoulders slouched, his hands dropping into his pockets in an attempt to seem careless. But his scoff betrayed him. “She knew my name wasn’t Andrew.”

Her giggle was so sweet it turned his stomach sour as he stepped back to give Seth room to fumble around the cart. It left Andrei wishing he had his own distraction as his hands began to sweat as bad as the back of his neck. Maybe he shouldn’t have started such a conversation.

“You caught that? It’s not that she doesn’t like you. Harper’s just been through a lot.”

Andrei leaned in, hoping to be given even the slightest insight. “Like?”

“I’d love to fill you in,” Maddie told him and he held his breath, only for it to release slowly and sadly, like a deflating balloon, “but that’s Harper’s story to tell.” But she indulged him in the slightest, “For context, her ex is an asshole, and she just moved back home. She’s still a little fragile right now, so if she comes across as being rude, it’s because she’s still hurting.”

There was a clamor in the back of the golf car, curing through the seriousness of the conversation with a swear and another curse from Seth before he joined the conversation. “Who’s an asshole?”

Seth was someone who could insert himself into anything. He had a charisma that was magnetic, and an approachability that left everyone comfortable no matter the situation. Which was probably why Madison was so comfortable as he reached around her to check his phone in the golf card, and why she didn’t even flinch as his body grazed against hers. A part of the entire interaction made Andrei jealous. He wanted a connection like that.

“Darren,” Maddie told him simply, before her smile grew wider and her hand was reaching out to pat his forearm, “Your friend here has a thing for my sister.”

Seth shrugged. “Not surprising. Everyone has a thing for your sister.” His words had left his lips so carelessly that Andrei could see Seth’s eyes go wide before he could find the words to backtrack. “Not me though. I’ve never liked your sister. That would be, uh- weird.”

“Yeah,” Andrei agreed, his voice then dropping low enough for only Seth to hear, “because she is the wrong sister.”

Seth cocked his arm, ready to throw a punch at him, but it never came. If it had been just the two of them, maybe they would have come to blows. Nothing serious, just roughhousing until one of them conceded. In the presence of Maddie, however, they behaved. Or well, tried to.

“Harper can be complicated,” Maddie spoke again as she leaned back against the golf cart, her arms folded over her chest casually, “but she’s worth it. She’s got a lot going on, but these last few days I’ve started to see the old Harper more and more. She’s healing, and father than I think anyone expected. She’ll come around. You just have to get to know her.”

“I want to, but she’s making it difficult,” Andrei’s words slipped from his lips in a sigh. His head hung for a moment at how pathetic they sounded. He should have been letting himself get so distracted by her. Not when she was so blatantly disinterested. Not when he had intended to spend his time in Winnipeg training, not yearning after the girl next door.

And yet, when Maddie smiled, “guess that means you have your work cut out for you. Now, who’s taking me for a ride?” Her question punctuated with the shrill jingle of keys, Andrei was the first to jump at the opportunity because the time alone with her meant time he could use to get to know Harper.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The wrapper of her lunch was left soggy from the steam of what was now a cold burger and fries from the McDonald's down the block. It was the downside of waking up late and having to get lunch delivered, and Harper was suffering for it. Its cheese felt like plastic on her tongue and the fries were stiff. The only redeeming quality of each bite was the extra pickles they hadn't forgotten, for once, and a generous amount of ketchup. But not even that one small feat could distract her from the notifications on her phone as she pulled it from her pocket and placed it face up on the table.

Three missed calls and seven text messages. They were all from Darren.

Harper had left him the engagement ring. She had packed up all her belongings and left the apartment she had once lived in on her own before he moved in with her. And she had told him countless times that they were over. Yet, he couldn't seem to accept the decision that she had made to move on with her life without him.

Her fingers danced over the screen, deleting each text and each call from her history. But when her finger hesitated over the last call, with his picture and his name so clear to her eyes, Harper contemplated calling him. She considered listening to whatever half-assed apology or excuse he had crafted for her. Harper even considered accepting it and going home to him just to feel a semblance of normalcy. To go back to a life she hated, instead of feeling so tired, and alone and sorry for herself. Because going back to Darren would be good, at least for a time. He would help cook, and he would clean, even buy her small gifts, just to remind her that he cared. And he would do all of that until he didn't. Those sweet acts of kindness would fade into nothingness, into heartache. So Harper deleted that last call, and his contact in her phone - as if she didn't have his number memorized - and instead, she texted her sister, Maddie.

Of course, Seth was a nice guy. He always had been, ever since he was a kid- Harper ran a hand over her face, her eyes shutting in a long, tired realization. Madison wasn't talking about Seth. She was talking about Andrei.

Harper noticed she wasn't blind. Andrei probably looked good in anything. It was the perks of being an athlete and well, good genetics. With his strong jawline, charming smile and soft eyes - if Harper was 5 years younger, maybe she would have considered taking the time to get to know him. But she wasn't about to fulfill Andrei's older-woman summer fling fantasy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Crouched down in the middle of the sidewalk, Harper fumbled with the laces of her runners that had come untied somewhere between her dark and the sign-in station by the front door. She had swayed the loose lace back and forth as she signed in each runner, some she recognized and others that were new, but with only a few blank spaces on the list and start time drawing near, she needed to be ready to go. There was a patter of feet around her, then there was a rush of voices. So many at once she couldn't make out just one. But there was a sense of excitement in every voice. She could hear it, feel it even as she pushed up off the ground to stand and dusted her hands off on her shorts. And it excited her too, to get started on their run in the early evening, but when she looked at the running group that had clustered together in what looked more like a mob, it quickly became clear that it wasn't the run the group was excited for, but for an unexpected guest. Seth.

No. Two guests.

Andrei was there, too.

He was hard to miss, standing a towering six-foot-two in a group that was primarily women and their children who stood no taller than five-foot-nine. And he was a walking poster for the Carolina Hurricanes in black and red team branded gear that not even Seth had thought to put on for the run. For a moment, Harper thought that it might be all he had, but then she remembered the conversation they had in the driveway that morning. Andrei wanted to know where she worked, he wanted to take her out to lunch. He was there with Seth, so brightly dressed in red to be seen, not by the runners but by her.

Gripping her clipboard tight, Harper left her post by the door where she had been waiting for the final runner to arrive and maneuvered through the crowd with a smile and a soft excuse when it was needed. She could hear the click of the exaggerated noise of a camera lense snapping on each smartphone as pictures of Seth and his teammate were taken. And she could hear each friendly exchange they shared with her runners.

“-my son is never going to believe this-”

“-yeah let's get a picture to show him-”

“-I used to work with your mother, you know-”

“-I'll be sure to tell her you say hi-”

But not even their politeness could fully rid of the knot that threatened to take her face. They weren't supposed to be there. How they even found out where-

Harper sighed. Of course, they would find out. They spent the entire day with Madison, and if it hadn't been her, she wouldn't have put it past her dad to tell them, either. In the end, it didn't really matter who did it. The pair were there now, and she was being forced to deal with it.

“Hey guys,” Harper spoke with a false pleasantry, her back and shoulders stiff as she looked between the two hockey players that were smiling as if they were children that had just been caught doing something wrong. “Are you on our participation list?”

Seth pressed his lips together, fighting back the smile she knew could so quickly become a laugh. “Should be. Check under Seth and-”

Her eyes rolled as her gaze dropped to the clipboard in her hands. She scanned over each name and signature and found the two blank spaces at the bottom of the list. They had been late in the day additions, written in her coworker’s scrawl: Seth J. and Andre S.

“Perfect,” Harper spoke through the grit teeth of her smile, “That's everyone then.”

Raising her clipboard up, she flagged down the attention of her coworker and shouted, “we got everyone! I'll take the rear!”

It seemed like the smart thing to do at the moment. Hanging At the back of the group meant giving her enough time to tuck the clipboard away in the office and lock up. It meant avoiding having to lead the pre-run warm up and only really having to offer support and guidance to those who fell behind. Best of all, Harper thought it would give her the biggest distance between herself and the two athletes that continued to impress the group with their mere presence. But she was wrong.

While Seth ran with the bulk of the group, his energy contagious and keeping morale high, Andrei fell back, his pace slow and steady to match her own. He ran by her side, silent and focused, only looking at her when he was spoken to two blocks into their route.

“What are you even doing here?” She asked him, genuinely curious. Did they not have anything better to do with their time?

“Running,” he answered simply, smiling.

“But why?” Harper asked.

Andrei answered. “It was too late to book the afternoon appointment.”

Harper's head snapped in his direction, her expression softened in disbelief. She didn't want to believe that he had even tried to make an appointment, because Harper couldn't understand why. He had only just met her yesterday, and his interest in her was unlike anyone else. Maybe he was just bored, or didn't like being told no - but he was kind, albeit a little awkward and unorthodox in his methods.

“Usually, when people make appointments with me, it's because they need help with something. Not because they wanted to buy me lunch, and I said no,” Harper pointed out as a hand raised to push her hair out of her face.

Andrei's smile split over his features, a low laugh rumbling through him before he spoke. “My ankle. It hurts from time to time.”

“What happened?”

Sighing, his smile wavered. “Zdeno Chára.”

“Oh,” Harper didn't press any further, her gaze dropping to the sidewalk to watch as the cracks in the pavement fell in their wake with every stride.

“It's good,” he assured her, and Harper swore she could feel the warmth of his hand reach out to her in a ghost of a touch that didn't reach her shoulder. “No pain right now. I will tell you if it comes. But next time, maybe we can just go out for lunch?”

Harper had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. She bit down so hard her lip began to swell, and the two ran together, side by side, for the rest of the run in silence.

She didn't know what, but the kid was giving up on her just yet. Maybe Seth had put him up to it, like some kind of cruel bet to get back at her for making him go to bed early when he was ten. Or maybe Andrei genuinely wanted to take her out and a single rejection wasn't going to stand in his way.

And would keep declining. She had to. Sure, the Carolina Hurricanes forward was cute, but he was young. Harper didn't know it was by a year or two or five, but her standard wasn't one that was going to be bent for anyone, not even an NHL player. Besides, maybe the second rejection would be enough to show she wasn't inserted. And if it didn't? Harper was sure there would be the opportunity for a third time.

Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @mp0625 , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @xciciix , @cixrosie

#andrei svechnikov #nhl rpf #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey romance #hockey imagines #seth jarvis #collaboration fic #andrei svechnikov x original character

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