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somnambulic-thing · 7 months

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wrong number 2.2k

A/N: Just had an idea for a fic I will very probably never write in a fully flashed out way because I have a million wips and no attention span and no deisre to have more wips but don't want to fully let this idea go to waste so here it goes in very shortened form and probably very messy and rough.

Eddie x afab!reader || imagine them in their early/mid 30s

cw: mental health themes, reader has a broken leg, angsty shit, fluff, happy end

You moved cities to have a fresh start after a rough time came to an even rougher but long overdue end. You know nobody here, a clean slate to draw new blueprints on.

Two weeks in and despite your grumpy hermit ways, you are friendly with some of your neighbours already. They are nice, helpful people which is a win you take like it was a million bucks.

Three weeks in, you fall down a flight of stairs, break your leg and bump your head. Brilliant.

Back from the ER you sink into your bed, looking at still unpacked boxes and biting back bitter tears of frustration when your phone beeps. You eye it suspiciously, anxious your past might be knocking already, bloodhounds of days past sniffing your weakend state and their chance to inflict a little more pain.

You figure you're overracting, turn on the sceen and find a message from an unknown number.

[Hey Rick. Sorry to drop this on you on such short notice, but I won't make it to your get-home-from-prison party tonight. I can swing by next week with a six-pack or something. You have a good time, yeah? I'll explain when we see each other.]

[Hey there. I'm afraid you got the wrong number. I don't know any Ricks. But gratulations to him from me for getting out of prison, when you get a chance. Unless he's a serial killer or something comparable. Then I want you to run.]

[Well, shit. Sorry.]

And then after a few seconds: [I get back to you in case I need a place to hide.]

And somehow this sparks a conversation that lasts for hours. His name is Eddie, you learn after some minutes of back and forth which are unsuspectedly remarkably funny. But he's surprisingly also really concerned about your leg and your mild concussion and the fact that you mentioned you will give yourself one day of rest and then try to catch up on and get as much stuff done as you can with your cast and crutches. Luckily you can work from home, you say. Eddie isn't sure how he feels about that.

He makes you swear you take it easy. He asks if there are people that can take care of you and you lie to that concerned stranger who is the first person to make you laugh out loud in a too long time. You tell him your friends are taking turns to look after you. Why lie to a stranger? It's complicated... He keeps checking in, keeps chatting with you about all kinds of things all day long no matter what he has to do: Work, band practice, DnD, being out with friends or his uncle, Eddie keeps lighting up your phone all day long. The later the day, the deeper your conversations and you soon get the feeling that Eddie isn't all just fun and jokes but when you actually try to poke softly, he evades you.

[When you feel better and still are interested in my bullshit, I'll share. Promise.]

Okay, fine. Why would he want to trust you with his private struggles? He's just a stranger, with friends and an support system, who probably will lose interest to invest his time into you sooner than he himself is expecting. Which is fine... really... would be fine if he wasn't really funny... and interesting with a hundred interests and hobbies... and so weird and oddly caring... and living on the other side of the country.

But four days in and you wake up with a text from him, asking you if you finally could sleep a little better than the days before.

And then at 3am and endless hours of exchanging messages filled with thoughs and musings and dreams, he offers to send you a copy of a book he is sure you would enjoy. That he really needs... you to read for important reasons. One of them is to remedy the boredom inflicted by bedrest in those hours Eddie is busy and can't entertain you.

You give him your address almost without second thought, despite your mind telling you to maybe think about it first...

You had avoided anything outside of texts - no pictures, no calls - and he hadn't pressed the matter by himself. Which was a relief because you're not sure if you could witstand the temptation if he were to offer.

Getting more pieces of him... It just felt too dangerous. But a book was just a book, right?

You rely on your 72 year old neighbour for food and other errands and chores around your place. Mrs P is such a sweet old lady eager to help as much as she can, bending over backwards for you. So you naturally try to bother her only when it's really dire.

Seven days in and you see the postman stuff a small parcel into your mailbox. You hurry to snatch your crutches, not even thinking about what you are doing and you limp down the six stories to your mailbox way too fast. Your head is not happy and neither is your leg and it takes you and your ego ages and all your strength to get back up to your apartment.

You fall into your bed, exhausted, sweaty and in pain and crying in frustration and you fall asleep on the package from Eddie before you can even think of opening it.

Your phone rings and wakes you up when it's already pitch black outside. You've slept most of the day away.

Answering the phone on autopilot, still half asleep you don't check the name on the screen.

"Yeah?" you drawl.

"Jesus fucking Christ you're alive."

"What--? I--"

"I haven't heard from you in hours and your messages sounded so antsy and sad all day and I had a bad feeling somehow. Are you ok? Did I wake you?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. Hi, that's my voice. Anxious edition."

You're overwhelmed. Finding no words while his words dig deep trenches of longing into your brain which are hard to get out of...

"You still there?"

"Uh-hn, yeah..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just woke up, like you said. That's my voice. Sleepy edition."

And then he laughs. Oh god, what a sweet sweet sound.

"Hmm, sorry I just was really worried here..."

You tell Eddie there is nothing to worry about but that he's very sweet and he asks you if you have a little time to chat, tells you he likes your voice, likes it a lot and of course you have time but something weighs on you and the flutter of bats in your stomach.

You can't say if it's the aftershock of your staircase ordeal or the fact that your wonderful stranger keeps getting more and more real and more and more precious or a mixture of both. Suddenly there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Eddie? You still there?"

"Something's off."

You shuffle and feel the parcel poke into your ribs. You dig it out from under you, face heating up from two sources - the gift and his tone - and you start to fumble the parcel open.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. I just want to help. Let me help."

You finally fully unwrap the book. It's a well loved worn paperback copy. You run your fingertips over every wrinkles and cracks in the cover. Your voice sounds dazed to your own ears when you speak.

"I got your book..."

"Oh. Okay, yeah, great. And?"

You notice the excitement in his voice, notice that it matches your heartbeat when you open the book and find it full of notes. On some pages the margines are completly filled with Eddie's toughts.

"I just unwrapped it, like, ten seconds ago."

"Oh."

"I didn't realize you would send me... such a personal thing... looks like a diary..."

"Kinda is. Too weird?"

You stare at his handwriting which is somewhat of an elegant scratch and all those little sketches and something inside you gives way.

"I'm not okay..."

"I know. Tell me?"

You tell him that you lied, that there were no friends despite your eldery neighbor looking after you and you tell him about your little ordeal this afternon and about feeling tired and lonely and scared and starved for joy and he listens through it all.

Now it will be too much, you think but then you look at the book in your lap and keep talking. When you're done, there is silence on the other end.

"You still there."

"Processing."

"Mad?"

"Nope."

"Too much?"

"For me?" He chuckles. It's bitter and wonderful. "Sweetheart, it's not me who's dealing with all that shit right now. If you can handle living it, I can handle listening to it..."

"I hear you swallowing a but."

"But I know what you're talking about..."

You talk a little longer and despite him saying everything is alright, something is different. He seems distant, distracted, not fully with you. You keep leafing through that book, gently tracing the lines that are proof of his existance, marks he left in the world, preparing for him to ask you to send it back as soon as you can. You prepare for him to realize this was a mistake. A charity case gone wrong.

Eventually you get tired and a headache and he tells you to go rest, voice soft and deep and you're preparing for this to be the last time you'll hear it.

"Sleep well, yeah?"

No more sweetheart.

"I will. You too."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

You have a restless night and wake up to a message from him.

[Good Morning. How did you sleep?]

You smile, feeling stupid, like you overreacted and you exchange some messages but they are short and flat and there is still no sweetheart. Around noon, your phone has gone silent. Inside your chest, the echoes of disapointment are deafening.

You bury yourself in his book, and it feels like you're having a conversation with him through his notes for they are like direct replies to your own thoughts about the story unfolding. You can't put it down, probably look up from it for the first time in hours late in the evening when you're full on crying, holding the book away from you to not get tears or snot on it.

And then there is a knock at your door. Three sharp raps. Quick.

And you think it must be Mrs P with your groceries, you feel guilty that she has to carry all the stuff upstairs while her knee is bothering her. You make your way out of bed, get your crutch and slowly move towards the door.

"Coming!"

You realize you still have the book in your hand and you wedge it under your arm to open your door and--

"Hi."

Your heart is racing as your mind tries to keep up with what is happening. You consider pinching yourself, consider reaching out to touch him, see if he's made of flesh and blood or delirium, feel the dip of a frown-made crease betwen his brows under your fingertips, the fine stubble on his cheeks under the slide of your thumb.

"That's my face. Worried edition... why are you crying?"

You lean against the crutch, wipe at your cheeks with one hand, dry your fingers on your shirt and pluck the book from under your arm, holding it up wordlessly. Eddie's face lights up in a big, wide, gorgeous smile. Now there are dimples you want to explore. Suddenly the floor is moving.

"Easy, easy." Warm hands steady you. You hear the door fall close behind you and then it finally dawns on you.

The dreamy guy from inside your phone is inside your flat.

He's holding you steady by your shoulders on outstreched arms, searching your face with big, incredibly dark eyes.

God he's fucking beautiful.

"You gonna faint, beautiful?"

You shake your head. That's all you can do.

"I'm going to use your very understandable shock to ramble for a moment, okay? Okay. The obvious first. What the fuck am I doing here without invitation? Offering you my help. I rearranged all my shit and I can stay for two weeks, if you like. I have a hotel room booked and ready if you don't want me to stay the nights. Next: Why didn't I ask on the phone first? Because I kinda feared you would just say no and be all tough and stupid about needing help. I am way more charming in person and I was counting on me actually being here, a real guy, showing you that I mean it, would make it easier to convince you... Am I pushy? Yeah. I guess I am. But... if you really want me to piss off again, I will piss off. We pretend that I was just getting back my book because you're not fit to get to the post office right now and I'll never bother you again... but I could stay and make you dinner while you tell me which part of the book made you cry, decide over my fate when you're fed and calmed down? I left a whole load of food with your neighbor downstairs. Nice lady. Thinks you're a stubborn thing, by the way."

You swallow around something enourmous and try your vocal cords on something simple.

"Hi."

He tilts his head, smiles softly.

"Hey sweetheart."

You inhale deeply. Your exhale either carries bravery or invites doom but suddenly you're really, really hungry...

"You're really here."

"Yeah, shit, I know... to be honest, my knees are really wobbly right now?"

"You're crazy."

"Hmm, totally... bad case... started about a week ago..."

And there you see it. He's nervous too. That finally makes him real.

"So," you say, reaching out to cup his cheek, your touch coaxing out those dimples again. "What's for dinner then?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #long fics I will never write #my fic

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months

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Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.3

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which both you and anakin begin packing, but for two different reasons, and in an attempt to reassure you, he comes home with something that will surely get his point across.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY HALLOWEEN

“This is so fucking sad,” Anakin mutters as he shoves the few shirts he took out of his bag back into it. “We didn’t even get to unpack our clothes yet.”

You nod as you drop your sweatpants into your suitcase that was open on the bed. “I know,” you agreed. “I feel like we’re moving out again, even though we’ll only be gone for a few months. This place already feels like home, I’m going to miss it.”

Anakin nods and drops his bag onto the floor before moving to stand behind you. “It feels like home because it is our home, pretty girl,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as you begin to fold a pair of jeans. “And it’ll still be here in three months. The lease doesn’t expire until we want to move again.”

“I don’t want to move again,” you tell him, placing your hand on his arm when he wraps it around your middle. “At least not for a while. I need a sense of normalcy after all this is over.”

He hums, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose. “I get that, believe me,” he says. “Just last year I was uploading our first single onto my old Youtube account, now I’m being asked to extend our first tour. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to take it all in yet.”

You smile at him, zipping up your suitcase before turning around in his arms. “You’ve got the rest of your life to do that,” you tease, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “Try to live in the moment, Ani. The rest of the world will catch up to you eventually.”

Anakin gives you a grateful look, his lips turning upwards in a grin that takes you back to yours and his high school days. He looks so at peace right now, so young and carefree, it makes you miss the way things used to be, if only for a split second. You wouldn’t change a thing about the last five years. “What am I going to do without you? I know it’s not forever, it’s not even for half a year, but three months is too long without you.”

You wrap your arms around his middle. “I know,” you mumble. “But I’m going to come visit you. I refuse to miss all of your shows, I need to see at least a few.”

Anakin groaned quietly, leaning down to press a hard kiss to your lips. “How is it possible that I already miss you? You’re in my arms yet I still miss you,”

You shrug, tracing your finger over his sleeve of tattoos and pausing on your initial. “Maybe your body is already preparing itself,” you offer. “I hope you get some good sleep on this tour. I know you had a hard time doing it last time.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, moving around you so he can sit down on the bed next to your suitcase. His hands pull on your waist and you stand in between his thighs, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’ll be sleeping alone this time around while you’re off doing London things. I’ll be lucky to get more than four hours of sleep throughout the next three months.”

You roll your eyes and kiss him again, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. “You’ll just have to learn how to live without me,”

Anakin glared at you, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Like fuck I will,”

Laughing, you quickly kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. Anakin reluctantly lets you go, his arms falling back to his sides as you begin to sort through what books you wanted to take with you.

Anakin watches you with a weary look on his face. It was clear that you were nervous about going to London on your own, and he knew you were worried about your relationship. While you are both fully aware that you two were it for each other, this was still a big step.

Nearly five years in and you hadn’t spent more than a week away from one another, so to spend multiple was a big change. It was obvious that you were feeling anxious about it all, and Anakin wanted to assure you that everything will be fine. He wanted to ensure you were aware that you will be the one constant on his mind during the whole time he is away from you.

A half an hour goes by and Anakin is once again asked to come to the studio. He is sitting at the desk beside Vinny as Theo goes over a new beat he made up on his bass in the soundbooth. “Hey,” he asked his friend and drummer, leaning over so he didn’t have to talk very loud. “You free for a few hours after this?”

Vinny leans over as well, glancing at Helena before meeting Anakin’s eyes. “Yeah, I should be,” he answers. “What’s up?”

“Y/n’s stressing out about leaving for her program, though she won’t admit it,” Anakin says. “I want to assure her somehow. Are you down to sit through a tattoo session with me?”

“Always, man,” Vinny reaches over and bumps Anakin’s fist with his own. “Count me in.”

Anakin gives his friend a grateful smile before turning back to watch Theo.

After successfully recording the beat for a possible future song, Helena sits the three guys down and excitedly announces that she’s come up with a way to get some good promo out to the fans. “We’re going to hire a tour photographer,” she informs them, a big grin on her glossy lips. “We need some HD pictures of you all in action, and this is a great way to get you guys out there.”

Vinny sits up in his chair, glancing over at Anakin and Theo. “That’s actually not a bad idea,”

Anakin nods in agreement, as does Theo.

“Great, I knew you’d all agree,” Helena says and hands them each a piece of paper. “I want you to go through potential options together. Look them up on their social media, get a feel for how they portray their artists, then pick which one you think would capture you the best.”

“Sounds like homework,” Theo mumbled as he read the long list of names. Anakin and Vinny laugh as they, too, go over the list.

“No, your homework is to put out another hit single,” Helena says and the three straighten up pretty quickly after that. “Aha, not so funny when it’s your asses on the line, is it?”

“Sorry,” Anakin says for him and his bandmates. “Thanks, Helena.”

“Uh huh,” she smiles. “Get to work, boys.”

“So, what will it be this time, superstar?” Brock, Anakin’s long time tattoo artist asks when he saw him and Vinny enter the shop. “You finally gonna let me tattoo a snake on you?”

“No,” Anakin shakes his head with a grin, holding out a birthday card you had given him last year. “I was thinking something more tame.”

Brock nods as Anakin pointed at the writing on the bottom of the card. “Ah,” he hums. “I like it. Have a seat.”

A few minutes later, the tattoo is printed out and the trace is pressed against Anakin’s skin. Vinny stands off to the side as Brock begins poking Anakin’s left wrist with the tattoo gun, his eyes narrowing at how calm he is when he is literally being poked with a multitude of needles. “You sure have a lot of those,” he gestures to his sleeve. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No,” Anakin answers, leaning back in the chair. “Almost feels like a massage.”

“Yeah, right,” Vinny rolled his eyes, looking at the wall of possible tattoo options. “You’re full of it.”

Anakin laughs as he looks down to watch Brock work on the neat handwriting. “You’re lucky your girl doesn’t have shitty writing, man,” Brock pointed out as he continued working.

“I don’t think she ever did. I remember her taking notes in high school and she had good handwriting back then, too. It’s only gotten better,” he mumbles. Even if you had the worst handwriting in the world, Anakin still would’ve gotten it tattooed on him, like he is now. “A lot better than mine, anyway.”

“Fuck, mine too,” Brock muttered, wiping at Anakin’s wrist before going back in with the needle. “Chicks just have nicer writing, I guess.”

“Don’t think that’s true,” Vinny adds as he flips through a tattoo book. “Clara’s got the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Anakin laughs again as he looks up at his friend. “How is she doing, anyway? Upset you’re going on tour again so soon?”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” Vinny says as he sets the book down and leans against the shelf. “I already talked to Theo about it, now I want to run it by you.”

“Sure, man,” Anakin refrains from sitting up straight and possibly making Brock mess up the tattoo. “What’s up?”

“I know it was your bed last time, and I really am sad to hear that Y/n can’t come with us again, but I was thinking of bringing Clara with us? And she and I can get the big bed?” Vinny asked with a hint of nervousness lacing his usual cool tone.

Anakin hadn’t even thought about that. There was no point in him needing the double bed this time around since he wouldn’t be sharing it with you, and now he was almost positive that he would not be getting very good sleep at all this time around, especially since he would be sleeping without you next to him.

Something about sleeping in the bunk under Theo’s or the one above his was not appealing at all, but he supposed he would deal with it. “Yeah, of course,” Anakin answered. “All yours, dude.”

Vinny grinned at him and bumped his fist against Anakin’s. “Thanks, man,” he says. “How are you doing with the whole ‘moving to London’ thing? You and Y/n are practically attached at the hip.”

Anakin looked away and shrugged, eyeing the way Brody traced your pretty writing. “It’ll be hard,” he replied, trying to come off as unbothered, but he knew he would be missing you like crazy in a week. “But we’ll be fine. It’ll be five years together in a few weeks, we can go a few months without seeing each other every day.”

He hoped he sounded convincing, because even he wasn’t entirely assured. “Yeah, of course,” Vinny agreed, going back to flipping the pages of the tattoo book. “If anyone can do this it’s you two. I was talking to Helena earlier, and guess where our first location is?”

“Where?” Anakin asked as he looked at Vinny’s back.

Vinny turned around and smirked. “London,”

“Y/n?” Anakin called out as soon as he got back from the tattoo shop. He had phoned Helena on the way home and confirmed that London indeed is their first tour stop, and that you could possibly go with him. “Baby?”

Your sweet voice called back, “In the kitchen, Ani,” and he was making his way down the hall without a second thought.

When he entered the kitchen, he found you with your elbows pressed against the top of the island counter as your fingers picked at a muffin. He grinned at you before he pressed a kiss to your crumb coated lips, making you smile into it and pull away after a few seconds.

“Good day?” You ask as your eyes trace over every inch of his face and your lips match his small smile.

“Great day,” he corrected as he moved to stand behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle.

You lean back against him and lift the muffin up to his mouth, not caring about the hundreds of crumbs that fell into your shirt when he bit into it. “That’s good to hear,” you leaned in and kissed his jaw as he chewed. “What happened that made it a great day?”

Anakin ran his nose along your cheekbone and pulled you a bit tighter against him. “I woke up next to you,” he answered and smirked when you just rolled your eyes as you set the half eaten muffin onto the counter. “And I got a new tattoo.”

You perk up at that and turn around in his arms, your eyes raking over his sleeve in search of the new ink. “Where? Of what?”

Anakin laughed and placed his hands on your hips, hiding the clear bandage on his wrist for the time being. “Before I show you, I want you to know that this,” he gestured between the two of you. “Is all I could ever want. You’re everything I could ever want, forever.”

You narrow your eyes as you nod, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “You’re all I want, too, Ani,”

He leaned forward and kissed you deeply, his left hand coming up to grip the side of your face. “I just wanted to make sure you’re aware of that,” he murmurs as he pulls back and moves to stand next to you. He wraps his right arm around your waist and raises his left, his tattoo on full display now.

Your eyes widen as your hand shoots out to grip his and angle his wrist in an awkward angle. “Ani,” you gasped quietly as you observed the new ink that is now permanently on his skin.

In your neat handwriting were the words, ‘Forever Your Princess,’ etched onto the smooth skin of his wrist. You remembered writing that on a card for his twenty-first birthday, and your heart swelled at the fact that he actually kept the card.

You look up at him with a swarm of emotions evident in your eyes. “Anakin,” you whisper and gently run the tip of your index finger over his slightly swollen wrist.

He has your initial tattooed on his bicep, and now he had your writing placed perfectly on the part of his arm that was less crowded with various other tattoos. It had its own spot, whereas your initial was surrounded by random things.

Both had your heart beating rapidly as you moved to stand in front of him and lean up to kiss him. “You got another tattoo for me?”

Anakin wasn’t able to respond before you were kissing him again, this time much more deeply than before. When your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, he groans against your mouth as he presses your body against the island. “I’m yours for the rest of my life, princess,” he mumbled against your slightly wet lips. “If it wasn’t obvious enough before.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back at his words and how effortlessly he was able to turn you on. “God, you’re perfect,”

He shook his head, his nosing brushing against yours as he did so. “And there’s something else,”

Your hands slide back down to grip the worn fabric of his vintage tee. “Tell me,”

His fingers tease the skin of your hips when his hands push up your top a bit. “The first stop of the tour is in London,” he says and your lips turn upwards. “As long as you don’t mind sleeping in a bunk with me for a night, you can come with us.”

Your eyes cloud over with something he’s seen thousands of times now before you were kissing him again and gripping his shoulders tightly. His hands grab onto the backs of your thighs as he lifts your body up and sets you down on the island. “You are so fucking perfect,” you say again and kiss all over his face. “The absolute love of my entire life.”

Anakin laughed under his breath as you began to kiss his neck. “So, that’s a yes on coming with us for the first night?”

You pull back and raise your brow at him as if that was the dumbest question ever, and you let him know it was, too, “Are you serious? Of course I’m coming with you,”

And that was all Anakin needed to hear before he was kissing you again and moving to stand in between your legs.

It was cliché as fuck to say, but the two of you really did fit so unbelievably well together. While Anakin had been a pretty scrawny kid growing up, he had filled out in all the right places by the time he was in tenth grade. He also took PE during the four years he was in high school, so his shape had only gotten better since then.

You were a hell of a lot smaller than him, and your height difference was laughable at times. Your body was covered entirely by his whenever he stood in front of you and you looked even smaller whenever he tucked you under his arm.

And yet you fit perfectly together.

Anakin pulls your body close to his, and you were barely on the counter as he gave a slow roll of his hips against yours.

This is where he belonged, with you. He could get through a few months away from you if it meant you got to chase your dream after watching him achieve his. You had been so supportive of him since the very start, he couldn’t not do the same for you.

He was so fucking proud of you. You are by far the smartest person in his life and he knew you would excel in this program.

Three months will be nothing, right? It would be nothing when you both know that you’re in it for the long run.

When your quiet moan reached his ears, he quickly felt himself grow hard. Though, really, it didn’t take much. You turned him on constantly, and most of the time you aren’t even trying to.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you say in between kisses. “I miss you already.”

When your fingers begin to work on the button of his jeans, Anakin moves to place kisses all along your neck. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore, pressing kiss after kiss to the smooth skin of your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere without coming back to you.”

You whine quietly and the sound goes straight to his dick because he simply has no control over that part of himself, and you were so effortlessly hot. “Ani,” you beg and unzip his jeans, your small hand beginning to palm him through his tight boxer briefs.

“I know, princess,” he mutters, his fingers teasing the waistline of your sweats. “Where do you want it?”

“Here,” you answer in a breathy tone, your freehand coming up to tug on his hair a bit. He had let it grow out a few centimeters, just to try it out, and was receiving no complaints on your end, so he assumed you must like it. Even if he didn’t like it, he probably would keep his hair at whatever length you liked the best, all because you were his girl and he would do pretty much anything to please you. “Right here.”

Anakin smirks against your skin, his hands pulling down your sweats and dropping them to the floor. “This reminds me of our place on campus,” he mumbles as he reaches down to run his index and middle fingers through your folds, finding you already wet for him. “Remember that first night we couldn’t even make it through dinner before you were begging me to fuck you? I took you right there on the counter.”

“We were nineteen, Anakin,” you try to excuse your past actions, but clearly were no better than the way you were two years ago as you were in damn near the same exact predicament. “And we just moved in, I didn’t get the chance to make the bed yet.”

He hummed as he sunk his digits into your welcoming heat. “I’m not complaining, baby,” he smirked, pulling your body closer to the edge of the counter so he could grind his still clothed front against your bare one. “Just goes to show how much we need each other, huh?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him right up against you, your legs closing around his waist. “I’m always going to need you, Ani,” you say against his mouth. “Please, touch me.”

Anakin barely had enough room to be able to push down his boxers and thrust into your core, but he managed to do it in one swift movement. He groaned against your wet lips as he began to fuck you while still being fully clothed, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your shirt as he gripped your waist.

“Ani,” you whimper, tugging on the hair at the back of his neck with tight fists.

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing along your jawline as his hips rocked into yours. “You’re so good for me, so tight.”

Your eyes roll a bit and you reach one hand down, placing it flat on the counter behind you as you try to steady yourself, despite already being relatively stable. “You feel so good, Anakin,” you praised, tilting your head back when he started to place open mouthed kisses to your throat. “So deep.”

He grunted loudly, sucking a mark onto your neck before pulling away and smirking at the love bite. “Easy,” he warned in a half serious tone. “Keep talking like that and I won’t last long at all.”

You shake your head and kiss him deeply. “I don’t need you to last long, Ani,” you mumbled. “Just need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, slowing down the harsh thrusts of his hips as he processed your dirty words. Almost five years with you and he still isn’t used to how filthy you can be when alone with him, then become innocent again after he’s done with you. “Jesus Christ, baby.”

You laughed and the sound faded into a low moan as he slowly fucked into you. The sweet and sexy sound makes him feel a bit crazy and he goes blind for a brief second from the pleasure you always gave him.

The cool countertop did nothing to soothe your heated skin as your body burned with desire for the man who has only ever been yours.

The same man who is rutting into you and saying all the right things in your ear as he did so. “You’re so beautiful, princess,” he murmured. “My pretty girl. You’re so fucking sweet.”

You gasp when he trails a hand down and rubs soft circles onto your clit with the pad of his finger. “Anakin, fuck,” you hum and tug him closer. “Please, please.”

“What?” He asked, his tone mock free as he kissed along the curve of your jaw. “What do you want, baby? What do you need?”

“Hard,” you weakly answer, twisting his shirt in your hands. “I need it hard, Ani.”

He growled deeply and the sound went straight to your core, where you tighten around him. As he obeyed your request, Anakin found himself lost in the overall feeling of you. The way your body fit against his own, the sound of your soft moans next to his ear, how your hands couldn’t stay still on just one part of him.

He is so in love with you, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

The question weighed heavily on his tongue, and it wasn’t the first time he had to stop himself from asking you right in that moment.

He just couldn’t help it. He wanted you with him all the time, but you were still young, and have both made it clear that you wanted each other forever. There was no rush.

“Ani,” your breathless voice called him back to you. “Don’t stop, please.”

Anakin huffed out a grunt, resuming his harsh circles on your clit. “I’m not stopping, pretty girl,” he promised. “Not until I get you off so good.”

“You always do,” you moan, wrapping both arms tightly around his shoulders as your heels dig into his back to bring him even closer to you. “I’m gonna come.”

He kissed you deep and hard, his hips hitting yours at a bruising pace. “Do it,” he says in a daring voice. “Come for me.”

You moan loudly, your hands holding his hair in a death grip.

He couldn’t lie, moving into a new apartment with thick walls had to be one of the best decisions of his life, as you and he could be as loud as you want, and it was no secret that he loved getting you to be as noisy as possible.

He loved how vocal you got in the bedroom, or in this case, on the kitchen island.

It wasn’t just because it was a great ego boost and ensured him that he was keeping you satisfied in bed, but because he couldn’t get enough of the sounds you have only ever made for him.

That was obvious enough, seeing as he literally used an old video you sent him years ago in a song, just so he could share with the world how hot you truly are, even if you are very introverted yourself.

“Anakin,” you warn in a whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Oh, God.”

Another loud moan leaves your mouth as he feels your walls flood around him, and you whimper with every thrust of his hips as he rides you through your high. “Good girl,” he praised against your lips.

And he wasn’t too far off, either, as it was only a few more seconds later when he, too, reached his high.

You keep your legs locked around his waist and pull him right up against you when he stills, embracing him sweetly in the afterglow. Your hands run softly through his hair while his fingers trace circles on the skin of your hips, the silence between you comfortable yet a bit tense.

You both knew what was coming after this, and you both weren’t ready for it, but found comfort in one another as your time was now limited.

209 notes · View notes

foliosriot · 18 days

Text

The Gravity Of You And I

pairing: noah sebastian x kirks!reader

summary: your best friends in bad omens are back from tour. but with their homecoming brings about someone amongst them that you haven’t seen in years.

warnings: lots of angst. may seem like unrequited love but it’s definitely requited. space/astronomy references because i fucking love space.

tags: @concretenoah @malice-ov-mercy @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @cncohshit

masterlist

Bad Omens is back from tour. Your best friends are back from touring the world and playing music for hundreds of people, and you can’t express your excitement to see them in an acceptable way. It’s been a few months since you last saw any of the guys, including your brother, Bryan.

Speaking of your brother, he should be back any minute now. You’ve been anxiously awaiting his return from the moment he texted you a couple of hours ago to let you know the plane had landed. And besides one more text telling you he was on his way home from the airport, you haven’t heard from him.

You know Bryan is driving so he can’t just text you whenever he wants. But you continue to pace the length of your bedroom keeping an ear out for the sound of the front door to your apartment opening.

You don’t have to wait much longer before you hear the front door opening and closing. There’s a loud, heavy sigh that you can hear from down the hall. A small smile graces your face as you run out of your room.

Bryan has just barely set down all of his bags before you’re racing towards him. He yelps in surprise at your sudden appearance, but he manages to catch your weight as you barrel into him, your arms coiling around him that same moment.

As your older brother holds you, neither of you say anything. The past month or so has been super tough on you and your mental health. You hate being apart from Bryan, and however many months out of the year that he is away on tour with Bad Omens makes being by yourself that much more difficult.

A sour feeling overtakes your mind as you hug Bryan. You remember your bestest friend in the world abandoning you without any apparent reasoning, followed by zero contact. You hug Bryan tighter as it completely overwhelms you.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

“I missed you too,” Bryan whispers back.

“I’m really glad you’re home.”

“God, me too. You have no idea.”

You hesitantly separate from your brother and step back. He smiles down at you once you’ve both loosened your holds on one another. You return his contagious smile.

You then help Bryan lug all of his bags down the hall to his room. You sit on his bed as he unpacks. The two of you share stories about things that have happened since you last saw each other. Bryan tells you about some of the shows and different photos he got. And you tell him about your boring job and spending so much time by yourself at home.

After all of his things are put away he goes quiet. You tilt your head in confusion.

“You okay?” you ask him.

Bryan looks at you, his bottom lip anxiously tugged between his teeth.

“I’m gonna be heading over to the guys’ house tomorrow for some things,” he tells you slowly. “And I’m inviting you. They would be more than happy to see you, y’know.”

You stop breathing for a moment. You know who also lives in that house, besides Jolly, Jesse and Michael. And you’d rather not see him ever again.

“Noah won’t be home,” Bryan tells you carefully, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “I promise.”

You didn’t have to speak before Bryan was already soothing your nerves. Thankfully, you trust your brother more than anything, and you’re trusting him wholeheartedly that Noah is for sure not going to be home when you’re there tomorrow.

You look up at Bryan. The look in his eyes is hopeful, you think. As much as you want to decline his invitation, you know you can’t. Bad Omens are your friends and you love them dearly. So you give Bryan a nod, murmuring a quiet “I’ll go” added onto it. Your brother beams at you, and you can practically see the tension release from his shoulders.

The next day, as it is nearing noon, you follow Bryan outside to his car. You are all dressed and ready to see the guys but you can’t quite shake the anxiety or paranoia coursing through your veins. They are stifling each of your senses as Bryan drives.

But you wouldn’t let Bryan notice. You aren’t going to let him notice the slight trembling of your hands or the waver in your voice as you quietly sing along to the music playing. Bryan doesn’t need another thing to worry about regarding you. The least you can do is conceal your emotions, stamp them way down deep inside of you, until you’re back in the safety of your bedroom later in the day.

Then you begin recognizing the streets Bryan’s driving down and you notice the same things you always do when going down this familiar route — the bright yellow house on the corner; the 1968 Chevy Camaro that is still idling in that guy’s driveway after all these years; the house with the large porch and the beautiful bush of purple hydrangeas. When you see those flowers you know you’re only a block away.

And there it is, the thing you’ve been dreading seeing for the past 24 hours. Your friends’ house is completely unassuming as Bryan pulls up on the curb. You recognize the small handful of cars out front.

Bryan gets out of the car almost immediately. However, he pauses at the hood when he sees that you haven’t done the same. You had unbuckled your seatbelt and everything but the familiar cars and home in front of you have you hesitating. Your brother rounds the front of the car until he reaches the passenger side door. He gently pulls it open and kneels next to you on the pavement.

“Hey, you okay?”

You hear Bryan’s voice but do not respond. Your head is spinning as you continue taking in the view of this house you know so well, and yet feel like you’re a phantom coming back to haunt its place of death.

You swallow down a bite of fear. You slowly look to Bryan and nod.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” you tell him softly.

“I know you’re worried,” Bryan says gently. “But there’s nothing to get worked up about, okay? I promised Noah wouldn’t be here, and he’s not. He’s with Folio, but everyone else is inside.”

Bryan’s gentle and kind voice soothes your senses. You take a deep breath and slowly breathe out. Your shoulders relax, making Bryan give you an encouraging smile. You return it as you gingerly get out of the car.

Hesitantly, you follow behind Bryan as he makes his way to the front door. He knocks a few times before it’s swinging open. And your heart soars at the sight of Jolly smiling down at you.

Relief floods every single one of your veins when he pulls you into a warm hug. It feels like you haven’t seen him in centuries.

As soon as you are released from Jolly’s embrace, you’re pulled into another hug by Nicholas. You love his hugs more than anything, and you hate how much you’ve missed this.

Even though you’re able to spend time with your friends you still struggle against the anxiety eating away at you. It’s difficult for the few hours you hang out with them, but you know it’s worth it if it means seeing all of their smiling faces.

When you get up the following day you walk out of your room expecting to see Bryan already awake. But he isn’t in the living room or kitchen, and you check his bedroom to find it empty.

Where the hell could he be?

You shoot him a text asking him where he is before you go about your day.

After a half hour you’ve received no response from Bryan. So you send him yet another text, and you send one to Nicholas and Jolly just for the sake of your sanity. For peace of mind, right?

But after an hour you haven’t gotten a reply from any of the three men. You’re growing anxious, but you know Bryan would have let you know if something was going on. He would have told you if something was wrong and if he wouldn’t have his phone on him. At least, you think so.

You decide to ignore it for now, however. Your brother and your friends are grownups and can take care of themselves. Although, it doesn’t help you worry any less.

A couple hours later you’re still glaring down at the screen of your phone. None of your friends were answering you. Why weren’t they answering you?

Not even Bryan will text or call you back. That alone makes you see red.

After one more hour of sitting around and waiting for any response from your friends or your brother you take it upon yourself to figure out what the fuck is going on. With a last ditch effort at contacting Bryan, which ultimately — and unsurprisingly — goes unanswered, you snatch up your car keys and stomp outside. A string of colorful curses escapes your mouth as you drive.

When the familiar house finally comes into view from down the street, you are seething at the sight of your brother’s car out front. Adding onto that, you recognize each and every other car, including Nick’s motorcycle. You’re going to kill them all.

You haphazardly park on the curb and begin making your way to the front door. Until you’re stopped by Nick meeting you halfway.

“Folio! What the hell is going on?” you demand angrily. You fight the excitement you feel at seeing one of your best friends. The smile you want to let shine is bitten back. “Why are none of answering me?”

Nick gives you a small embarrassed smile.

“Look, I-I don’t think it’s a good time,” he replies hurriedly. He glances back at the front door he had closed shut on his way outside.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“I-It’s just not, okay?” Nick begins fiddling with the chain around his neck. “We’re working on some new stuff a-and we just aren’t ready to share with anyone quite yet.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why is Bryan here?” you counter. “I bet Davis is, too.”

You see the panic glowing vibrantly in Nick’s eyes as he struggles to come up with a reasonable explanation. But you’re growing impatient and are fed up with receiving nothing from any of your friends. So you sidestep around Nick and make your way to the door.

Nick immediately follows and attempts to wedge himself between you and the door before you can reach for the handle. But you just shove past him and make it inside. However, you’re met with yet another obstacle.

“Nicholas, I swear to all things fucking holy, if you do not let me by and tell me what’s going on—“

“No. I’m sorry, but now’s not a good time, dude,” Nicholas tells you. “You need to leave.”

There’s an immediate difference you notice from your interaction with Nick and now Nicholas. Nick was panicking and anxious, like he was tasked with keeping a secret he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep for very long. Nicholas, on the other hand, is still anxious, but he seems resigned about it. He’s aware of the consequences of the same secret and he is remorseful about keeping it hidden.

You don’t like the implications of that at all.

“I’m not leaving until someone explains,” you snap. You can feel tears burning your throat as you watch Nicholas’s face fall.

“I promise one of us will explain, but right now, please let Folio take you home,” Nicholas offers, gesturing to Nick who is standing behind you.

You’re about to reply when you catch sight of someone peaking around the corner. You recognize the long hair in an instant.

“Jolly!”

You push past Nicholas and head to the kitchen, where you had seen Jolly disappear to. He steps back around the corner in an attempt to stop you, but you evade his touch as you push him away from you.

“What the fuck are you guys hiding from me? What could possibly be so—“

You stop in your tracks. The sight you’re met with leaves you speechless, and you hate the feeling of your racing heart picking up a greater speed from within your chest.

Standing around the kitchen there are five people, including Bryan, Matt, Davis, and Jesse. They all look to you with guilt alighting their faces, the worst being your brother who makes an obvious move to approach you. But you can’t take your eyes off of the fifth person.

Noah cut his hair. It’s much shorter than what it was since the last time you saw him. His tattooed arms and neck are exposed from the tank top he’s wearing, and you silently beat yourself up for gawking at the sight. He too is stunned by your presence, but is openly dragging his gaze up and down your body as you continue staring at him in disbelief.

You can feel Bryan’s presence at your side but you don’t bother to acknowledge him. You’re too busy fighting back the building pressure in your head at seeing Noah in person.

“Hey, Kirk,” Noah says, his voice breaking through the uncomfortable silence that was rapidly filling up the room. You hardly register the nickname.

“What the fuck is this?” you ask in a near whisper.

Noah takes a deep breath.

“There’s a lot to explain, but—“

“A lot to explain?” you repeat incredulously. “Like what? Like why you abandoned me?”

You watch Noah step away from the kitchen counter he had been leaning on, then start cautiously walking in your direction. The pace you take backwards is completely involuntary.

You can see Bryan beside you from the corner of your eye. You know Jolly, Nicholas, and Nick are standing not too far behind you. And yet, you still can’t fight the urge to take several more steps back.

Noah takes a long stride towards you again.

“Kirk, wait—“

“No. No, fuck you. You don’t get to call me that,” you quietly hiss, cutting him off. “After almost three years of no contact or explanation you do not get to call me that ever again.”

Your chest is heaving as you stare him down. The red hot anger flowing through your veins pairs nicely with the frigid cold despair encapsulating your heart. And you know for a fact that Noah can’t stand seeing these violent emotions clearly battling for dominance from the look in your eyes. That sends a spark of satisfaction down your spine. But only for a moment.

You can practically see his heart shattering inside his ribcage, and it takes everything in you not to let your impending tears fall. After all this time you’re not going to let him see you break. Never again.

And you’ll never admit to anyone just how much hearing him say that nickname is affecting you. That one word should not have so much power over you, especially since you haven’t been called that since you last him. However, you’re beginning to shake and tremble at just hearing it.

“Do not think you have the fucking right to ever call me that again.” You silently scold yourself for letting your voice crack with emotion. “I’m not the one who left and abandoned you without explaining first.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“You didn’t even call,” you say, your vocal cords failing you and breaking your words completely as they fall from your lips.

It’s more than obvious that Noah is struggling to keep his emotions at bay, as are you. But before either one of you can shed the first tear you turn on your heel and make your way back outside. None of your friends try to stop you, knowing that it would just make things worse.

You rush out of the house nearly blind. The tears obstructing your vision are burning your eyes, and the first one falls when you’re finally in the quiet of your car.

The only sound is your blood rushing in your ears. It’s deafening in the otherwise silence. Your head is swimming and making you dizzy as you sit still.

And after a few minutes of sitting silently by yourself you can’t choke back the anguished scream that rips through you. Within the confining space of your car the shrillness of your scream reverberates over and over. The sound is almost painful, the way it bounces off of the windows and comes diving back into your aching ears.

Your chest seizes and the scream cuts off. Your throat burns from the scream, but you swallow roughly and fight against the oncoming surge of tears. This is neither the time nor the place for sobbing uncontrollably. So you suck in a few deep breaths before you turn the key in the ignition and drive away.

You manage to make it home before fully breaking down. You’d barely made it inside the door when you began violently sobbing and shaking. It had taken much longer until you managed to pull yourself off the floor and down the hallway to your room.

After imagining the scenario of seeing Noah again, you didn’t anticipate reacting like that. Well, you were certain you would be angry and yell at him, definitely. But screaming and crying like a child because he called you that beloved nickname? You can’t say you had expected that one.

For the next several hours you sit alone in your room. You formed your bedsheets and blankets and pillows into a sort of cocoon, partially hoping you could disappear into their comfort forever.

It’s only mildly disappointing when that doesn’t happen.

Bad Omens is playing quietly from your phone when you hear the slamming of the front door, signaling Bryan coming home. Your heart picks up its pace when you hear his footsteps growing closer to your room. And then the sporadic muscle drops when he knocks. From the other side of the door you hear Bryan say your name.

“Can I come in?” your brother asks.

“Go away, Bryan!”

You swear you can hear his soft sigh. A few beats of silence pass before he speaks again.

“Will you at least let me explain?” Bryan requests. “Look, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, okay? But there’s a reason we didn’t.”

Against your better judgement, you reluctantly turn off the music on your phone then slide off your bed and pad towards your bedroom door. You hesitate, resting your hand on the knob before quickly unlocking it and opening your room to your brother. Bryan had been leaning against the doorframe, and straightens up when he sees you.

He wordlessly follows you. You assume your previous position on your bed at the headboard, and Bryan gingerly sits on the other end of the mattress.

“Okay, I wanna start by saying—“

“Why did he leave like he did?”

Bryan is taken aback by your unexpectedly soft voice. It’s obvious he had been preparing for anger and resentment from you, but is appalled by the reserved, quiet demeanor coming from you.

It doesn’t take much for him to know who you’re referring to, either.

“I don’t know,” Bryan admits quietly. “When Bad Omens released Finding God, when they started taking off, Noah had talked about bringing you along with us on tour. He had said you could help with merch sales and other shit. But something happened, I guess. When he’d told me that you weren’t coming with I got fucking pissed at him. ‘Cause why offer to bring you along when he hadn’t even talked to you about it? Other than that, Noah didn’t tell me why he hadn’t talked to you about coming on tour.”

You hate how easy it is for you to believe Bryan. You hate how much you believe his words, because you can feel his own personal residual anger towards Noah. His anger and guilt feels honest and true.

“I thought he had talked to you,” Bryan goes on. “All of us thought he had talked to you about tour. And we were all excited. Like, having my little sister on tour with us? I was so stoked. So were you, I remember. The first week of that tour was sour and a little tense because of Noah. But we evened out, I guess.

“And then the way he never contacted you after that? After tour ended? He did that shit on his own. We all told him it was a bad idea but he wouldn’t listen. He’d said it would be better if he just stopped talking to you so ‘this wouldn’t happen again’. But that just left you watching his Twitch streams anonymously and following Bad Omens from a distance.”

The pity is evident in Bryan’s words. It’s no secret that you had been completely torn up over Noah cutting contact with you, and the fact that Bryan knows about watching Noah’s livestreams without knowing you were a viewer feels like a sword being driven through your heart.

The dam in your head is threatening to break.

“So when he came to us about finally wanting to see you, we were all in agreement that it was a good idea for the most part. I promise I was going to text and explain why none of us were responding to you, but Noah wanted to do it himself. Then you just showed up at the house and…”

You suddenly feel like you’ve made a horrible mistake. Noah was going to talk to you on his terms but you ruined it by showing up unannounced. Then you didn’t bother letting him explain because you hadn’t been prepared to see him in the first place. Tears are flooding your eyes.

“I know how you felt about Noah in the past,” Bryan nearly whispers. You almost break your neck at how fast you look at him. “I don’t know if you still feel the same anymore, or if you ever told him, but you didn’t deserve to go through that either way. He should’ve talked to you to begin with, and it’s his fault this all happened. I’m so sorry.”

And that’s what makes the dam finally break. Tears spill down your cheeks relentlessly and you can barely breathe now. Bryan watches you sputter and choke for only a moment before he’s at your side.

You let him pull you into his chest and rock you back and forth with his arms securely around your shaking frame. His hands soothingly glide up and down your spine as you sob.

Your brother holds you as you bawl into his chest. He says nothing while cradling you; he just keeps rocking you gently.

In this position, you feel utterly helpless. You feel it hooking its claws into you and tugging at your soul with the intention of ripping it right from your bones. And you give in to the feathery sensation exploding in your chest, hoping it makes these emotions disintegrate for good.

On top of the helplessness is something you have always disliked feeling: hatred.

You hate Bryan for being so protective over you. You hate your friends for being secretive. You hate Noah for ever coming into your life to begin with.

But most of all, you hate yourself — for falling for Noah, for letting your emotions get the best of you, for pretending you hate anyone at all.

Because that’s the kicker, isn’t it? You can’t stand the thought of hating anyone but yourself, not even Noah. After all, it isn’t Noah’s fault that you fell in love with him, or how he was there for you when almost no one else was. It’s your fault for being vulnerable and naïve to how he made you feel, thinking he would ever actually give a shit about you.

It was never Noah’s fault that you willingly fell into his addictive gravity. You did that all on your own.

You’re the one who became infatuated with him. You’re the one who wanted to know the inner machinations of his mind and understand his thought process more than anything. You are the one who saw him as so much more than a friend before he would ever give you the time of day.

You gave yourself wholly to Noah before he could — or would — ever see you in that same light. He was your brother’s best friend, someone to tease and joke with. But he was also someone you found yourself constantly confiding in and sharing the darkest parts of your soul to. And he did the same.

So maybe it wasn’t all in your head when you thought he could possibly ever reciprocate your feelings for him. Because that is certainly what it had felt like for the longest time before he up and left, leaving you behind.

You let yourself be cradled by Bryan for a long time. There’s nothing in your brain telling you to pull away, as much as you had expected it. No, instead, you let your brother hold you so delicately and lovingly until you’ve run out of tears. And even then, he holds you for a long time once you have drifted off to sleep in his arms.

It’s only a couple days later when Bryan approaches you.

You’re sat in your shared living room, scrolling through your phone on the couch. Your brother’s presence catches your attention and you look up from your phone to see him standing on the other end of the couch. There’s this weird look on his face that you notice right away.

“What’s up?” you say to him.

“Nothing. Just coming to tell you I’m heading out,” Bryan replies. “I’ll be back soon.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Where are you going?” you ask him, a hint of suspicion creeping into your words.

“Oh, uh… Places.”

“Okay?” You elongate each syllable of the word as you carefully eye your brother. “You’re not being very casual about.. whatever this is, you know that, right?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“God, Bry, you’re so cryptic,” you joke with a small smile. “I think you need to stop hanging out with Bad Omens so much.”

Bryan purses his lips.

“Yeah, uh… Speaking of.”

At that, Bryan turns on his heel and hurries out of the living room. His abrupt exit takes you aback, and you immediately jump to your feet to chase after him.

Bryan is already halfway out the front door by the time you’re up. He slams it behind him as you are about to catch him, a soft apology buried under the sound of the door slamming shut. But you are so confused right now and you need to know what Bryan has planned.

So you pull the door open once more, irritated by the sound of Bryan’s retreating feet down the hallway. You ready yourself to run after your brother to get an answer out of him, but he’s already disappeared around the corner and you don’t have nearly enough patience to deal with it and—

Noah is standing a few feet from you. You’re stunned into silence, completely forgetting about Bryan. Your throat is beginning to burn with tears.

“What are you doing here?” you question him quietly.

“I need to talk to you,” he replies. Noah’s voice is gentle and it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands are stuffed into the pocket of his sweatshirt, but you can guarantee his fingers are fidgeting relentlessly.

You swallow thickly as you watch him closely. You’re beginning to realize why Bryan left in such a hurried manner; he had left so Noah could get you alone and talk. You suppose you’ll have to punch your brother when you see him again later.

Without saying a word you step back into your apartment and leave the door open. A silent invitation for Noah to enter. He is clearly taken aback but says nothing as he follows after you.

You aren’t completely sure why you let him inside, in all honesty. But now he’s standing in your living room, and you are standing as far away from him as you possibly can without it being deemed as weird. He doesn’t seem to notice, or, if he does, he makes no attempt at mentioning it.

Noah stands awkwardly on the other side of the room, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his sweatshirt and his shoulders tight and hunched slightly. He seems uneasy, and his face is a light shade of red as you remain in anxious silence.

“So…?” you quietly prompt.

Noah blinks a couple times. His mouth is agape as he stares at you. Then he’s licking his lips nervously and begins to speak.

“It’s been a long time, huh?”

It is more than obvious that being in your presence like this is causing him distress and anxiety. Like if he says the wrong thing you’ll kick him out. The fractured expression he gives you when you don’t react or respond sends a sharp pang straight into your heart, but you ignore it and keep your face neutral.

“Uh… On my way here I had gone over everything I wanted to say,” Noah continues, “but now I can’t remember a fucking thing. So that’s great.”

You’d forgotten how much you have missed Noah that the obvious sarcasm and dejectedness in his voice almost make you laugh. Then that tightness in your throat takes ahold of you once more, and you stay still.

Noah looks completely defeated from he stands. There’s a panicked gleam in his eyes and his toes are starting to tap from anxiety. Every part of your body is screaming at you to just cross the room and embrace him, to calm his nerves. But you fear you might shake your skeleton right out of your skin if you move.

“I-I’m sorry, I—“ Noah scratches at the back of his neck with one tattooed hand before slotting it back into his sweatshirt pocket. “Bryan suggested I do this and… This isn’t how I imagined this going.”

“This isn’t how I imagined this going either,” you murmur. Your voice wavers from the intensity of the tears you’re holding back.

The silence that settles between you is stifling. It has you holding your breath silently begging for your apartment building to suddenly collapse all around you. You can’t do this for much longer.

But Noah still hasn’t said anything else. He is looking at you earnestly, as if he is trying to communicate with you using only his eyes. It makes you pity him.

However, you know you can’t do this back and forth all day. You would much rather go lay in bed and ignore the outside world. Ignore Noah.

“Noah, I appreciate you coming and trying to talk,” you say, avoiding eye contact with him. “But I think it’s time you leave. There’s nothing more to be done.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” Noah voice strains with confusion and surprise.

“You need to leave, Noah. Thank you for stopping by.”

You turn around and begin heading to your bedroom. You’re secretly hoping Noah will just give up and leave like you asked. But you know better than to think like that.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

Noah’s words catch you off-guard. You freeze where you stand but make no attempt to look at him. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you anxiously wait for him to go on.

“That’s why I—“ You hear him take a deep breath before continuing. “That’s why I didn’t want you on the tour with us. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or anything, so I figured it would be best if you didn’t come with at all. I was afraid I would let it slip and you wouldn’t feel the same. Then you’d go home and forget about me and… Guess I did that exact thing anyways, didn’t I?”

Tears are gathering in your eyes as Noah speaks. You can feel your stomach sinking at his confession, and it makes you wonder if letting him in your apartment was truly a good idea. But it’s a little too late to reminisce about that decision you can’t take back.

You hesitantly turn to face Noah. There are tear stains trailing down his cheeks that disappear under the line of his jaw. Even from this distance, you can tell his eyes are bloodshot and puffy.

The moment both your gazes meet you could feel that forceful tug in your chest. You fight against the pull as much as you possibly can, but you know you will gravitate towards Noah eventually.

The gravity between you is simply inevitable.

“I’m sorry.” Your heart mimics the breaking of Noah’s voice. “For everything. I should’ve talked to you about tour, and I should’ve talked to you after tour was over. There’s a lot I should have done, and I wish I could erase all of it and try again. Do it properly so I never have to lose you. But I can’t, and I… I am so fucking sorry.”

He remains quiet after that. Tears are pouring from your eyes and you’re shaking uncontrollably. That powerful tug is begging you to close the distance between you and Noah.

And after all this time of fighting back against this gravity and the desire you feel to be with Noah for so many years, you finally give in to it. Your legs slowly shuffle you towards Noah. He has so many emotions intermingling on his face as you approach that it’s difficult to comprehend what he’s feeling.

You come to a stop right in front of him. Hesitation stirs in you, and you are able to bite it back as you give Noah a soft look.

“I wish we could turn back time to do it all over again, too,” you tell him. “But we can start over now, if you want.. Seb.”

It takes Noah a moment to process your words. Then he nods, the tension in his shoulders slowly slipping away and disappearing completely. He also seems delighted at hearing your nickname for him.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whisper. “But it really hurt when you never got back in touch with me. I thought I had done something wrong, or you just didn’t want to be friends anymore. So seeing you the other day after so long was really weird for me and I wish I had stayed to hear you out. And I’m sorry, for storming out and being stubborn.”

Noah seems, not only surprised, but relieved, when you tell him you’re in love with him. Then he smiles down at you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just a stupid asshole who can’t express his feelings,” he tells you. “And don’t apologize for being stubborn or storming out the other day. It was sudden and unexpected. It’s okay, I promise.”

You return his smile.

“Okay.”

Noah hesitantly stretches out his arms in invitation for a hug. And you’re never going to fight against this gravity between you two ever again.

You fall into his chest and embrace him. Noah’s arms curl around you, holding you close for a moment before lifting you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips.

Being pressed against Noah like this — chest to chest, tears staining your faces — feels right. It feels like galaxies colliding and solar systems stitching themselves together. Like foreign planets aligning and stars exploding into supernovas. It’s two celestial bodies finally merging after millennia of being separated.

It feels like home.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens x reader #𖤐 #𖤐: writing #queue

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sycamorelibrary754 · 7 months

Text

Forts, Fruit Snacks, & Flying

Summary: How will Natasha react when she sees the footage of your daughter’s high flying escapades with Peter while you two were in Paris celebrating your anniversary?

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Yelena, Kate, Peter x reader (platonic).

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 800

Warnings: None

A/N: @togrowoldinv suggested a fic where Natasha finds out about Mila’s flying with Peter in We’re a Family. This can also be read as a stand-alone story. I hope you enjoy it!

It was Wednesday afternoon. You and Natasha had been home for almost two weeks. Your anniversary in Paris now a cherished memory for both of you. You had gone back to work, and Nat, despite her semi-retirement, had been at the compound for the last three days training a couple of new recruits.

The meeting you were in was running long, and you were starting to worry about who was going to pick up Mila from preschool. You knew Nat wasn’t available for at least another two hours, so you text your sister-in-law.

You: Hey Yelena, I’m stuck at work and Nat is training recruits until 5 pm. Is there any way you can pick up Mila from preschool and bring her home? We should be home around 5:30 p.m.

Yelena: No problem! Peter, Kate Bishop, and I just finished an outreach event at the library. We’re only a couple blocks from her school.

You: Thank you! You’re the best sister-in-law ever. Tell Kate and Peter I say thank you as well. We’ll see you in a bit.

Mila had just picked up her purple unicorn backpack from her cubby when she caught sight of Yelena, Kate, and Peter by the door.

“Surprise, little spider!! We’re here to pick you up”, Yelena exclaimed.

“Where’s Mommy and Mama?” Mila asked, hugging the trio.

“They’ll be home soon. Meanwhile, we get to go home and play. What do you say?”

“Yay!”

*^~^*

After arriving home and getting Mila a snack, your daughter decided she wanted to build a blanket fort. Following some expert engineering, the four sat down inside the fort eating Welch’s Fruit Snacks.

Mila lokoed over at Peter, “Did you bring your flying suit with you?”

“Oh, not today, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Your little girl looks like she's about to cry when Kate interjects. “Mila, do you want to see the video of you flying with Peter when you stayed with us? I have it on my phone.”

She nods, and Kate tosses the video to the AirPlay on your big-screen TV. At that very moment, you and Natasha walked in the front door. Natasha’s eyes go wide as she takes in the 4k footage of your five-year-old daughter flying through the air on Spider-Man’s back, as Mila runs up to hug you.

“What the hell?!” Natasha shouted.

“Mama said a bad word,” your daughter tattled, pointing at Nat.

“Yeah, sweetie, that was a bad word… Why don’t we go unpack your backpack?” you suggested as your little girl ran to you.

“Don’t kill him”, you said with a smirk and a hand on her shoulder as you walk by with Mila in your arms.

Natasha is staring Peter down with a look that he’s only seen on missions. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking, Nat— Ms. Black Widow, um, Romanoff. But she was safe the entire time. I would never drop her. We put pillows down on the floor, and she had a blast.” Peter asserted.

“Peter, shut up,” Kate whispered.

“Good advice,” Nat remarked, taking a step toward Peter.

“Come on sestra, you know we did fun things like that all the time back in Ohio.” Yelena reasoned.

She is about to give it to Peter when she catches sight of her daughter’s face on the screen.

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila giggled.

Natasha’s heart melts at the sight of her carefree and happy little girl. Exactly how she always hoped Mila would grow up. She looked back at Peter without breaking her best Black Widow poker face.

“I have two things to say to you. One—never do that again unless she is in mortal danger, or you will be the one in mortal danger. Two—can you send me that video?”

“… I’m sorry, what?” Peter asks.

“Can you send me that video? I want it for her baby book.”

A look of relief washes over Peter’s face. “Oh, sure. Umm, Kate has it.” Peter said, pointing at the young archer.

Kate nods and sends Nat the video, her phone pinging in confirmation.

“Thanks, and thank you for picking up Mila today. Would you three like to stay for dinner?”

“Sure, that would be great”, Yelena responded.

Nat walked away leaving the three young Avengers standing in the living room.

“Dude, you’re sweating,” Kate giggled.

“You don’t need to be afraid of her, she isn’t as scary as she looks,” Yelena said.

“Really?”

“No, she could kill you in two seconds. But look on the bright side, she didn’t. That means she likes you!” Patting Peter on the back.

“Awesome,” Peter squeaked.

#natasha romanoff x reader #yelena boleva x reader #kate bishop x reader #peter parker x reader #the avengers #mcu #black widow #spiderman #fluff #platonic

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f1nalgirlz · 7 months

Note

Omg can you do wjere like they hate each other yk and they're arguing and they end up making out and stuff? (Preferably with Euro but anyone you pick is good)

Yesss I love this in fics/books everytime i read itttt. I’m so excited to write this!!

DISCLAIMER: This is literally only about Rory’s portrayal of Euronymous.

Less aggressive disclaimer: this was not proofread! In the future I’ll go back and fix anything but yeahh..

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ fighting, enemies to lovers (kinda), nsfw, swearing, public sex, aggressive sex

˗ˏˋcontents´ˎ˗ fem reader, nsfw, dom Euro, creampie, oral sex/blowjob (m receiving)

It had already been a long fucking day to say the least and it was still morning. The start had been rough on you, spilling a coffee on yourself, having to turn around and go all the way home to change. You’d had to change into a different shirt, leaving on the skirt and fishnets you’d had on before. Catching a ride proved difficult, so you had to walk to work, your bike & car alike both out of commission in one way or the other. By the time you finally made it to work, you were late. You absolutely dreaded days you were even a minute late to work, but a whole two hours late? You knew your boss would have a fit. You hated your boss as it was and you knew very well the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t place why he hadn’t fired you yet, his hatred of you was so blatant and the only reason you hadn’t quit is because you really needed this job.

As you finally made it to the doors of the record shop you worked at, a breath left your lips. You entered, face a little sweaty from the part walk part jog you took to get here. Your hair stuck to your face. As the bell on the door rang with your movements, your boss looked up at you from behind the counter. He was just reading a magazine, typical. His long black hair looked messy. “Two hours. New record.” He said sourly, causing you to roll your eyes. When you made it to the desk, you tossed your bag down behind it. “Y’know I’m not even gonna bother explaining why I’m late because I know you don’t care the trouble I’ve been through.” You said with a huff, walking off to start unpacking the new record shipments. “No, I obviously don’t give a fuck what ‘troubles’ you went through to get to work, but I’m your boss you owe me an explanation about why you can never fucking be here on time.” He said, a mocking tone crossing his voice when he repeated your words. You basically felt your skin burn as anger washed over you, you basically stomped to the side of the counter he was sat behind. Usually his bad attitude wouldn’t have set you off like this, but you were fed up with his treatment of you. “Shit happened, okay? At this point I don’t even care, you’re such a dick all the time just fire me! I’ll find a job somewhere else you’re so insufferable!” You yelled at him, extremely close to him now, causing him to narrow his eyes at you. You instantly regretted your words, it was just heat of the moment, you new you needed this job. “I didn’t mean that- I-” you started but faltered due to nerves. You were fully expecting to be fired on the spot, but you were utterly shocked when you felt a rough hand on the back of your head.

Euro was gripping your hair aggressively, pulling you to close the space between you two. His chapped lips moved harshly against yours and you couldn’t help but kiss him back. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t shake how much you were enjoying this, it made your brain swarm with a million thoughts. Your hands found their way around his neck, shoving yourself closer to him. The feeling of his body against your own made your mind go numb, any thoughts from before dissipating. As he pulled away from your, now red, lips a string of saliva connected the two of you. You barely had time to meet his gaze before he dove into your neck, kissing at first but quickly it turned to biting. You felt embarrassed at the wetness that seeped into your panties in response to how rough he was with you, the embarrassment extended to the way you moaned for him as he marked your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he slipped from his seat and pushed your back against the counter, finally looking at you. Your lips parted, you wanted to say something but what? You couldn’t even think of what to say. As you scanned his body, you noticed a bulge in his jeans, it seemed he was just as turned on as you were. “You wanna keep your job?” He asked, weirdly nonchalant. All you could do was nod as you felt his hand on the top of your head, pushing you down to your knees. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as he undid his heavy belt. As his pants were undone and his underwear were pushed down, his cock sprang from them. You didn’t miss a beat, licking a strip from the base to tip. Your hands made their way to his thighs as you took his tip into your mouth, taking him in further until you felt the head on the back of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as you bobbed your head, moving one hand to pump him occasionally. The uncomfortable feeling of your fishnets digging into your knees was long forgotten as you continued. Moans and curses from the man above you just encouraged you to keep going, tears from gagging making your eye makeup smudge and your own drool covering your chin making you feel dirty. The thought of what was going on right now made your cunt get even wetter.

Soon you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head, your mouth being pulled off his dick with a pop. Euro had pulled you off, as he began dragging you to stand up by your hair. He used his thumb to wipe your chin before turning you around, he shoved you down, bending you over the counter. Your cheeks burned as your hands clutched the edge of the counter. Your eyes drifted to the ‘open’ sign on the door as you felt him aggressively ripping open your fishnets. Embarrassment once again crept into you, yet the thought of someone walking by, or walking in, and seeing you taking your boss’s cock made your cunt drip. When Euro felt he’d sufficiently ruined your tights, he pulled your black panties to the side, using his knee to spread your legs more. “You’re such a slut you know that?” He whispered into your ear, sounding as grouchy as usual. Before you could get out a reply, a surprised moan slipped from your lips. He’d slammed his entire cock into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. You choked on another moan as he fucked you roughly, his hands holding onto your hips so tight you thought you’d have bruises by the end. In a way you were disappointed in yourself for sinking low enough to do this with the man you hate, but on the other hand, he was fucking you so well you couldn’t be bothered to care about your feelings about him. He groaned into your ear, sounds of your wet pussy and his hips hammering into you filled the store. It felt so good, your brain went numb, not being able to speak, just letting out moans as your eyes watered. You saw a few people walking by the tall glass walls of the store, had you been in the right mind, you would’ve felt absolutely humiliated, but at the moment you couldn’t feel anything except the pleasure your boss was giving you. As you felt one of his hands leaving your hip, you soon felt it rubbing tight circles on your clit. Completely giving in, you let your eyes roll back a series of lustful moans leaving your mouth as your hands gripped at the counter top. “You’re such a whore for me, taking my cock so greedily.” he groaned out. You couldn’t even form any words, it was like he’d fucked you completely dumb. Your body was on fire as you felt a familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach, soon a loud choked moan ripped through the air. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you, Euro was quick to follow, not even bothering to pull out as he came deep inside your pulsating hole. When he pulled out, you couldn’t even stand up, leaning on the counter for support. Your body felt like it was throbbing, as you were coming down from your high the bell on the door was ringing, signaling that someone had just walked in, your heart sank. When you looked up and saw Faust looking at you with a somewhat awestruck expression, you wanted to sink to the floor and hide. Euro laughing pulled you out if your thoughts, as you turned your head and watched him finishing up bucking his belt.

This is so humiliating.

R: I hope you enjoyed! Sorry it’s a little all over the place I will go back and fix it later!! I’m also super sorry this took so long for me to get around to >~< tbh this is kinda ass but I’m willing to own up to being lazy & sick 🫡

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hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 10 months

Note

Oh hi welcome back ehe

Mayybe would u like to write some fluff for graves?

"Take Me Home"

Hello dear reader, here we go with your request, i hope you'll like it. I quite enjoyed this, my brain worked so good while writing.

Philip Graves x F!Reader

Warnings: tiny bit sad, motorcycle, fluffy af

Summary: Graves shows you how much he cares

He is the most refreshing sight for your tired eyes. His wide grin and glinting eyes is heaven sent, leaning on his all black Harley, a plus helmet patiently waiting for you to out on. His favorite leather jacket hugging his perfect torso, accompanied with all black jeans and shoes. The energy radiating from him is everything you can ask for after your long shift.

Honestly, you didn't really thought about him showing up. You were so busy all day, that you barely had time to reply to his texts with a couple of rushed words. Maybe that's why he's here with open arms, and a bright face, so he can ease you after this goddamn bad day.

You grinned as soon as you saw him, waiting for you, eagerly waiting for you to cross the parking lot so he can have the hug he yearned for all day.

His eyes look you up and down as you stride towards him. you must look like someone who crawled out of hell, haven't looked in the mirror since the morning. Baby hairs has been loose for hours now, flying everywhere, makeup probably nonexistent by now, you can thank your idiot ass for that, wiping your eyes too many times to count. The only savior is your fresh outfit you put on before closing down the cafe.

"Surprise!" His cocky voice music to your ears, a half smile playing on his face, trying to contain his excitement.

As you face him, you see his freshly shaved face, tempted to bury your nose right now into the crook of his neck, already feeling the scent of shower, his body wash and cologne mixing like a potion brewed for your own desire. And you just do that, giving in to the thought, when you do, he let's out an honest laugh, the sound vibrating in your whole body, head to toe.

"Hello to you too." His voice cuts through your ear despite being merely a whisper.

"Oh my lord, you smell so good." You sigh, pushing your face further to his body, trying to get swallowed by his presence. He chuckles, finally snaking his strong arms around your frame. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You can't see his face, but you know this sentence carries so much at once. "Thought i check on my hardworking girl." A small kiss is planted on the crown of your head, lingering a little before pulling back a little.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a tight smile, not wanting to push too much if you aren't in the mood to unpack the happenings of the day.

"M'sorry for being unreachable, i just..." You start to explain, it's important to you that he knows it's just a busy day that held you back from talking to him more.

"C'mon, don't start with that horseshit." He puts his pointing finger in your moving lips, catching you off guard. "I just want to know if i can make this day better for you." He doesn't take it well when you over explain, a bad habit you can't shake off. You know he's not angry, but your brain starts the rambling before you now it. He always wondered why you do it. He's not insecure, he's not thinking you purposefully ignore his calls of texts, he told you numerous times, but you still try to detail the reasons you didn't had time to reply.

"Ohh, you already made it million times better." Just him showing up, offering comfort and love is enough to forget about asshole costumers, liters of spilled coffee and complains about the unsalted scrambled eggs.

You look in his ocean eyes, lost in the blue of his iris, and you don't mind if he sees how smitten you are. Maybe if you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by your own feelings, you would see just how deep he is in too.

His eyes flicker down, just for a second, and without another thought he captures your lips in a sweet lazy kiss. He pushes his chest to yours, pressing his hands on your back to trap you in his embrace. He tastes like menthol, wet and warm against your soft lips, slow and gentle but demanding, always taking the lead. You never complained and you'll never will, you enjoy the way he takes and gives back even more. A sigh escapes his lips when he pulls away, ending the kiss too soon for your liking. You try to chase after his wet lips, but he makes it clear he's not willing to give in. He often gets too flustered in public, while you grow cocky, switching the roles with only a small peck on the lips.

"Ride with me?!" He hands you the extra helmet, the words ending up a mess, between a question and a statement. You take the helmet happily, letting him help to put it on, checking thoroughly that it's on you properly.

He does the same, mounting the beautiful machine with confidence, every movement of his body delicious to your eyes. You probably zoned out, when you snap out of it, he looks back at you, only his eyes visible under the helmet, waiting for you to get on the bike behind him.

"Honey?" He asks, almost confused, seeing you lost in thought. But you don't waste more time, getting on the bike with the help of his body, your hand supporting your weight on his shoulder. A giggle escapes you when you are reminded of the first time with a motorcycle. You were so afraid and awkward, made Philip laugh, teasing you with a lighthearted voice. Now it comes naturally, the process and the steps after steps, and the trust you put in him with your life.

"Where are we going?" You ask, hugging his torso, pressing yourself to his back completely. He replies with the roar of the engine, speeding out of the parking lot making you yelp in surprise. Typical Phil, communicating with actions. While he's more than capable with his words, you heard it a millions of times, but when it comes to you, he usually can't find the right ones to express himself. So he gives kisses, pulls you close, his gaze always telling what's going on behind those pretty eyes.

The ride is cold against your body, the city buildings switching to suburb areas, and finally treelines leading the way. He's focused on the road now, while the city's slower traffic let him have his hand wonder on your leg, or clutched hands over his abdomen, now it's just you who clings into him for dear life. The ride is rather short, maybe half an hour before he pulls up a road to a hiking trail, slowly going up the hill, searching for something.

When he finds a spot for parking, he's killing the engine, turning to you to get off, but your eyes are already on the landscape of the city, sparkling lights of the ascending night, the sun setting behind the buildings.

He stops you before you could walk off, his hands on your helmet.

"Maybe we should get rid of these, don't ya think?" He says, a hint of amusement is his voice. He unclips the helmet agonizingly slow, taking in your face curiously, inhaling the look on you as your eyes wonder between him and the beautiful sight behind him. At this point he might get jealous of the view, because it takes your attention away from him.

He takes off his helmet in seconds, catching your hand in his, keeping you close to his side.

You are in an awe at how the city lights are sparkle like little fires, burning under the orange light of the setting sun. Manmade and natural meeting, creating something wonderful for your eyes.

You walk over the cliff, just an unstable wooden fence protecting you falling over, old and overused benches placed around.

"Stunning. You can see every sparkle of the city from here." You say, eyes glued on the sight, but Graves's attention is on you, and only you. He saw this view too many to count, under a snow blanket, washed over with rain, shaken by thunder, melting in the summer heat. In his memory, every one of his visits seems the same, because he looked at it with his own eyes. But now, he's experiencing it through yours, and it's like seeing the seven wonders of the Earth.

It's a core memory. The woman he love dearly, but so fucking afraid of admitting it, glowing in the golden hour, a satisfied smile on her face. You are close to him, clinging to his arm, your weight heavily leaning on him, in his mind a clear sign of trust. You are standing near a cliff, hand in hand with him, only an aged broken little fence standing between you and the edge of death, and he thinks he'll never find a single soul on this planet who would trust him this much. He's not that kind of person, he can accept it now.

"So what's the occasion?" You ask, snapping him out of his zoned out state, his eyes focusing on your perched up brow, teasing smile on your lips, eager to know why he has brought you along to this spot, having a feeling it's some sort of safe space for him.

"Can't i pamper my favorite girl, hm?" He leaves a peck on your temple, turning his eyes back to the tiny lights dancing around the city.

"Favorite, huh?" You elbow him teasingly, a painful laugh erupting from his body.

"Just enjoy it, will you?"

"I am." You smile at him, his shy wandering eyes jumping between your eyes and lips. He has a guilty look on his face, giving away the whole reason of this little trip. "You leaving, aren't you?"

He's surprised, not expecting you to figure it out so soon. He wanted more time to think about the words, to how he'll be dosing the information of him travelling far away from you for god knows how long. Despite his expectations, you aren't mad. Your smile turns sad, but the love in your eyes never burns out. "Yeah hun."

"When?" Now your whole focus is on him, body turned to face him.

"Tomorrow." Oh that guilty look again. He's asking for forgiveness with one look, lips in a thin line waiting for your reaction. You just hug him, tight with every ounce of your strength put in your arms to press his body to yours.

"I'm sorry i..."

"Shhhhh." You shush him. "It's your job, i knew what i'm getting myself into. I'm just sad you didn't tell me earlier. I could have call in sick and.."

"Nah honey, that's nonsense, You have a life to live, you can't just throw away everything because of me."

"Uh yes i can? If i want to. You are a part of this life you know."

He just sighs, his forehead resting on yours, collecting himself a little, arranging his thoughts, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. You let him, you just stay there, drawing circles on his back reminding him that he's not alone in this.

"I love you." He whispers so softly you think it's just the wind playing with your mind, murmuring cruel things to you. You feel the air freeze, Phil's breath held back in anticipation. You act fast without thinking, now or never. If you heard it wrong, you still can say you said what has been on the tip of your tongue for ages now.

"I love you." He pulls back, so many things flashing in his eyes before locking his lips on yours, capturing you in a heated kiss, teeth clashing tongues battling. It's not subtle and romantic but passionate and demanding, just how he is like. Your body craves the power of his kiss, but you break away just to say one thing.

"Now take me home, Philip."

"Yes m'am"

#philip graves imagine #philip graves x f!reader #philip graves x reader #philip graves fluff #cod x reader

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youngerdrgrey · 5 months

Text

I must wait for the sunrise // the marvels (mcu), carol/maria, carol/valkyrie, chapter one

about: Moments from the Blip and beyond in the lives of Carol, Maria, Monica, and Valkyrie. Genuinely here to unpack and explore the richness of memory and the ever-expanding relationships of our girls. One of the hardest things for Carol to grapple with is what she and Maria were to each other. And it’s Valkyrie (King, friend, more depending on the year) who asks her if it matters what they were, when what they are now is more important. There’s so much that they still can be. Together and apart. (alt title: higher, further, faster, remember?)

fic notes: interconnected memories! Lock in for ValCarol rights, Danbeau angst and fluff, and a joking use/creation of the tag 'Monica has three moms??' This chapter's within the Blip and takes place after That Memory Scene in The Marvels. (Other chapters will include early ValCarol, more CarolMaria memories, Carol and Monica confrontations, etc.) ~ subscribe + read on AO3

︽✵︽

Carol can’t remember the last time she was in Maria’s bed, but she imagines there must have been one. They slip into bed together as if they’d been doing it for years. Carol would love to remember that. Or anything from the memories she doesn’t have anymore.

Maybe there were other nights like this. With borrowed pajamas and the hint of mint in the air from Maria’s toothpaste. The brush of Maria’s fingers against Carol’s cheek as she unbraids the left side of Carol’s hair. Even that this one-handed unbraiding, Maria does with practiced ease. She loosens Carol’s armor, gives Carol a place to hide within the conversation.

Not that she can hide much when they’re only a pillow’s length apart. Face to face, as Maria runs tired fingers through Carol’s blonde hair.

Maria chuckles. “I can’t believe a white girl’s aging better than me.”

Carol rolls her eyes. They both know her powers are the only reason she hasn’t aged. As thankful as she is for them, they’re the reason she missed out on six years with her family, and every year since then too.

“Don’t flatter me,” she says. “You look better than I ever could.”

Maria scoffs. Then coughs bad enough that she has to shift from laying in the bed to propping herself up. Carol’s quick to sit up as well. One hand to Maria’s back, the other to her elbow. There’s something familiar about this.

“You still —“ Maria clears her throat. She turns to get her water from her nightstand and take a sip. “You still look lost. Just say it. Whatever’s bouncing in that big brain of yours.”

“Was I… here? I know I was here when she was little, but when you were pregnant?”

Maria chuckles again, but this time is winded. Weathered. She sets one hand on the hand on her elbow, and she leans back into the hand between her shoulder blades.

“Sometimes,” she answers. “Frank said only one of us needed to be in the air. His early firefighter days were long. And cruel. And you and me, we were still getting to know each other. You were still so upset that I had left you in that cockpit by yourself.”

“He’s staying home with the baby,” Carol said. “You need to be back up there with me. Promise me you’re not going to be one of those women who gives it all up for diapers and sack lunches.”

Carol tenses. She must’ve meant it as a joke, but that sounds horrible now. Begging Maria to abandon Monica. “I’m sorry.”

Maria waves her off. “You must not remember me egging you on. I wanted the reminder of what was out there. I was too big for the pilot seat. Frank was off at all hours all around Louisiana. And then you would come over to keep me from losing my damn mind. And Monica—“ Maria’s voice catches, and Carol instinctively rubs circles on Maria’s back. “She was your co-conspirator even then. She’d move around in there all day until you came around to talk about the stars and everywhere else we’d go. I wish….”

She trails off, but Carol nods.

“I wish we’d gotten to go too.” They still could. Just the two of them. Carol could show her every planet that Carol’s seen in the last twenty years. But she knows what Maria’s answer would be. Not until Monica gets back.

Maria shakes her head with a laugh. “Good luck taking her with you. She grows her hair so big, even though she knows she has to put those caps on to even fit in the helmet. So hard headed.”

Carol smiles. “Her mother’s daughter.”

“If she doesn’t—“

“Maria.”

“Carol, I’m serious—“

“We’re not talking about this,” Carol says.

“Who’s in charge here?” Maria asks.

“I’m a Captain.”

“Not in here you aren’t. You’re —“ Her eyes soften, and Carol’s breath catches as she waits for the next word. What is she? Who is she in their lives? “You’re just Carol here. And it’s my house until I’m dead and gone, and then it’s Monica’s. And I’m going to hold on as long as I can, but if I slip up, you have to promise me you’ll come back, and you’ll be here when she needs you.”

Not without you. I can’t be here without you.

Carol swallows that down. Clenches her jaw as she resolves to figure out some kind of fix for what Thanos took from them. The other Avengers are trying, but they haven’t gotten anywhere. They need to move faster. They need to bring Monica back before it’s too late.

“I promise.”

notes: subscribe on ao3 for more. I really do forget to update tumblr as much. any specific moments/memories you're curious about?

#carol danvers #the marvels #maria rambeau #valcarol #carolmaria #danbeau #monica rambeau #valkyrie mcu #valkyrie #mine #fic: I must wait for the sunrise

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yenforfairytales · 11 months

Note

Terry Silver has a lot of enemies, being the type of man he is (also: money)…but his Number One Enemy isn’t Kreese. It’s Bruce Springsteen. How dare this skinny punk bitch dad-rock loser have first place in Danny boy’s heart?! Why does Daniel love him so much? Why does he wear t-shirts with his stupid face on it and him along to his corny lyrics??

Daniel:…You need to calm down.

Terry: 🔥 🔥 🔥

Daniel: Omg

Daniel walking around like this and driving Terry crazy

Really, Danny boy? Why don't you just tattoo his face on your ass? No, wait-- don't do that!!!!!

Terry thinks it's cute in the beginning that Daniel has all of Springsteen's records and knows all the words to his songs - Daniel knows all the words to any song - until Terry helps Daniel unpack from moving into his mansion and uncovers a box full of posters and tshirts.

Daniel: Careful with those. Oh, hey! I used to hang that one over my bed.

Terry: Which one--

Daniel:

Terry: ................Trash. TRASH. INTO THE FIRE.

Daniel: Terry, no! Get back here!!

---

From that day forward, a day that will live in infamy, Bruce is Enemy Number One. Enemy of the State. The Silver Estate to be exact. Top of The Shit List. That's right, Terry has one.

He could've never guessed that his most dangerous rival doesn't even know karate.

He can't escape him. It's the 80's. Springsteen is still... The Boss.

Terry's tempted to use his connections to get this greasy wannabe outta the mainstream, maybe cause an accident, but he's above this. Daniel is his. He has no reason to be insecure ha ha

Unless--

No no no. Ridiculous. He's Terry Fucking Silver. He can live with this.

---

They're on the couch one evening, looking through photo albums. Daniel loves to scrapbook and put them together. Terry never cared for this kind of thing, his memories not so fond and his family not so warm.

But Daniel puts them together so lovingly and sweet who wouldn't want to flip through a few. They do look good together.

Terry picks up an older album from Daniel's childhood

Daniel: Aww, man, look at these. I went through such a Springsteen phase. I wanted to be him so bad.

Terry: *schooling his features to keep from seething*

Terry: Just a phase, huh? You never take photos like that for me.

Daniel: Yeah, I realized I'd never be as cool as him, ya know?

Terry: Ah--

Daniel: He's still the best, though. Nobody wears jeans like him.

Daniel: Terry? Are you okay? Babe! Breathe!!!

---

Terry sits with his arms and legs crossed. Somehow simultaneously pouting and glowering.

His sweet, gentle Danny boy has been pacing and ranting for over an hour.

Daniel: Why can't I go to the concert, huh?! What's the big deal?? You can't tell me what to do!!

Terry: Why don't you want to stay home with me??? I can sing too, Daniel! I can sing!

Daniel: ....whAT?

Terry: I could sing better than that prick AND play the piano while I do it!

Daniel: I didn't know you could sing. :D

Terry: *turning pink* Well... you never asked.

Daniel: Okay, let's hear it. Sing me a song. :3

Terry: What, now??

---

Daniel brags at length to anyone who will listen that his multi-talented boyfriend sings to him on the regular.

---

Daniel catches on eventually.

Miss Margaret may or may not have left a certain list out for him to find.

But his Boss tshirts always ending up at the bottom of the laundry would have tipped him off.

---

Terry's at his desk in Dynatox HQ when he gets a large envelope signed from Daniel.

Inside is a photograph of his beautiful boy just for him, according to the note inside.

He pockets the note and keeps the photo on his desk for years.

Okay. So maybe, once in a while, a supervised Springsteen concert can be tolerated. VIP seating.

Maybe.

---

It's always a touchy subject and the grandchildren know not to trigger grandad. But one crisis at a time.

Terry: Please. That was decades ago. I bet he looks like a bloated bald--

Daniel: Have you seen Bruce lately?

Terry: What do you mean.

Daniel:

Terry: MOTHERFUCK--

#and so it goes #i would call this crack but #nothing is too ridiculous for terry tbh #the long standing celebrity fued we deserve #daniel larusso #terry silver #silverusso #asks

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jxtina-86 · 11 months

Text

Bound To You

You always know exactly what I want, even if I don't know it myself. Seth/Siobhan See here for the rest of the series/order to read.

Warning: Language/Smut incl. Bondage

Rating: MA

The apartment door closes behind me and I lean against it with a sigh. Home.

My purse slides down my arm and I catch the handle at the last second, slinging my keys inside before I dump it on the floor. My blazer is next as I move away from the door towards the bedroom, stripping as I go, desperate to get in the shower and clean off the travel stink that clings to me. By the time I reach the bathroom, I'm down to my bra and panties, my fingers tugging at my hairband. Minutes later, my eyes closed as the water beats down on my face, soaking my hair.

The only thing missing is Seth. I could really do with his arms curling around me right now, his chin on my shoulder as he whispers in my ear. His days off are few and far between at the moment. And when we get them, we strangle the life out of them, clinging to each other as the hours race past and I'm struggling to keep it together as I watch him pack his bag for another stretch on the road. It doesn't matter how long we've been together, it never gets any easier.

I sometimes wonder what I would do without friends like Lex and Becca. Even though we're displaced all over the country, there's something comforting in knowing that I'm not alone. All three of us know what it's like to devote time and effort to a man that's hardly ever in the same city, let alone the same apartment as us. We know what it's like to sustain a relationship using any means possible, whether that's phone calls, texts or just our imaginations. I never realised how much I'd need that support network �� I thought I was as independent as they come, but even the most independent of us need a little help along the way.

I watched Lex do this for a long time before Seth and I gave it a go. Her resilience is admirable and I constantly questioned if I had the same determination to see this through. I couldn't imagine getting into a relationship with someone I would hardly see.

Somehow Seth changed my mind. And I don't regret it for one second. Even when the going gets tough, something pushes me to fight for what we have. I've realised why Lex was so hell bent on making it work with Roman. Because I want the same thing to happen with Seth. Life without him just isn't an option anymore. The thought makes my heart pound nervously, my throat tightening as I imagine what that would be like.

I blink away the stream of water, pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind. But it won't stop them from creeping up on me again. I'm still scared. Scared that I'm going to fuck this up again. I came so close before and even though it was months ago, it still hangs over me, constantly taunting me. It's an ever present reminder of not only how much of a bitch I can be, but how forgiving Seth is. If the roles were reversed, I wonder if I could forgive as easily as he did. I was astounded by the way he brushed the whole incident aside. He never once let it come back to bite me in the ass, though I'm sure I gave him enough reason to at the time.

But I guess that's what love is. Knowing when to forgive and forget. And to be fair, the whole incident has made us stronger, made us more determined to make this work. Without it, maybe we wouldn't be here today. Maybe I wouldn't be in the process of moving the last boxes from my apartment. Maybe I wouldn't be spending my weekends unpacking and fitting my own possessions amongst his.

I took the plunge and gave notice on my old apartment two weeks ago. Just like he'd done all those months ago, Seth managed to convince me that this worth a shot, despite of my fears. I don't know if I will ever rid myself of those fears, but with him, anything seems possible. But now, I have no safety net. Now I'm clinging to him, grasping at the promises he made to me in that hotel room and praying that I don't fall. Or at least, I don't fall without him.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I pause as my fingers brush against my lips. I can't help the small smile that graces my face as I pull back my hands and stare at one finger in particular. The feeling of his lips pressed against the base still remains with me. The sincerity in his eyes and voice sent a shiver down my spine and even the memory still causes my skin to tingle today. His words hung in the air as I struggled to think what to say in response. His fingers slid between mine, tugging my arm up and over his shoulder as he moved closer, his forehead resting against mine as he repeated his words.

“One day.”

Despite the path of our conversation, I never once thought it would end in him promising me that. Scrap that – it's more like, in spite of our conversation, he still promised me that. After all, I had essentially told him that I didn't know if I wanted marriage or children. Yet there he as, still offering me that if I wanted it.

And I meant what I said. I wasn't saying no. I just needed time to think it through.

I'm barely getting my head around Lex and Roman's news. Whilst I'm beyond pleased for them both, there is a tiny tremor of uncertainty. I barely see Lex as it is. Add a baby into the mix and that leaves very little time for other things and Roman has to come first. I get that. I really do. But I don't want to lose my friend.

I feel sick with selfishness, frowning at myself for even thinking these thoughts. But that's what happens. I've seen it before with colleagues – a baby comes into their lives and those without cease to exist in their world. Things they once had in common are irrelevant and the conversation dries up. It can happen so easily, even for those friends who live in the same city. Lex and I barely scrape enough time for a text or phone call and we only seem to see each other when our paths cross at shows.

Yet when I see her, I forget that it's been weeks or months. We slip back into the same old routine, the familiar back and forth. Only last time, when I was back to sort out my apartment and she was visiting her mom, there was a visible bump on display, her hand caressing it tenderly as she joked and laughed. She glowed too. It was the same old Lex, just with an extra kick. It gave me hope that nothing will change.

Although maybe it will, but in a good way. Maybe it'll make me realise that I want that with Seth too. It astounded me that he thought about our future. Call me naïve but I didn't think guys thought that way. Rightly or wrongly, I thought that if anyone would be starting to have those thoughts, it would be me. But no, we swap roles and I'm the one who freaks out at the mention of getting serious.

We haven't spoken about it since. It was like we both made a conscious effort to not let things get too serious the next day. He snuck in a workout before I woke up and then we didn't leave the hotel room until absolutely necessary. I barely made it to the airport in time for my flight back to Iowa. It felt good to just have a day of nothing. Well, nothing mixed into never-ending kisses and slow, teasing touches that escalated more than once.

I feel like we need more of that. More of the slow. More of the gentle. Everything is always so rushed and heated. We're too frantic for our own good, racing to push each other to climax so we can start over again and again until there is no more time left. I love when we leave the apartment. It reminds me what it was like at the beginning, when everything was still fresh and new, that part of a relationship where you're always discovering something new about the other person. I like sitting in bars with him, watching him out of the corner my eye and wondering how I ended up so fucking lucky. I like the way his hand will always find mine without even looking, how his fingers will always brush against my thigh at least once under the table if we're at dinner. I love how when I get up to go to the bathroom or go to the bar for more drinks, I can feel his eyes watching me go. I love how on the way back to the car, he'll always try to steal kisses from me, pressing me up against the car itself, too eager for his own good.

I shut off the shower, a warm glow spreading through me as I remember that tomorrow I will have all of that in real life, not just in my head. And due to his recent hectic schedule, I'm fortunate enough to get him for longer than usual – extra vacation days a reward for his hard work and my patience. He suggested going away, escaping for a few days but I'd rather just be here. I like waking up in our bed together, I like wandering around the apartment and hearing his voice and seeing his bare back as he brews coffee and then sneaks his arms around me for a morning kiss. And sure, we can do that anywhere, but it always feels more luxurious here than elsewhere. Because whilst for some, that would be a regular, everyday occurrence, for me it isn't. And I savour the moments that we get to be normal.

My phone rings as I exit the bathroom and I have to run back to the lounge to extract it from my purse. I can't help the wide grin as I see his name flash up on the screen.

“Hey,” I answer, breathlessly.

“Sounds like I caught you at a bad time,” he chuckles.

“Is your mind always in the gutter, Rollins?”

“Don't act like you don't love it,” he shoots back as I head back to the bedroom.

“Fine, you got me,” I laugh. “Hate to spoil your fun, but you rang just as I got out of the shower.”

“That ain't spoiling my fun, sweetheart,” he drawls with another chuckle. “Quite the opposite in fact.”

I sit on the bed, lying back on the soft sheets as I chew my lip for a second, toying with whether to provoke or tease him. “Showering is only fun when you're with me.”

“Damn straight.” He pauses and I distinctly hear him lick his lips. My thighs instantly tighten, a cool shiver floating down my spine as he takes a shallow breath. “I just can't keep my hands to myself when you're all naked and wet.”

“I really hope you're alone right now.”

There's another pause. “I can be.”

“Seth!”

“What?” I can almost hear the cocky grin spreading across his face. “I'm messing with you.”

“So, you rang me. What's up?”

“Just checking in. So, are you really naked and wet?”

“Seth...”

“See, I got this image of you in my head now and I can't seem to shift it.”

“Se–”

“And you answering the phone all breathless and saying my name over and over again... Well, that ain't helping either, sweetheart,” he continues, his voice gaining an all too familiar rasp. The sound that creeps into his tone when he's crawling over me or scooping me back into his lap from behind. “Fuck, I've missed you.”

“Missed you too,” I whisper. “I was thinking of you earlier.”

“Yeah?”

“In the shower,” I admit. All thoughts of why he was originally calling have gone. I don't know if this was his intention or a happy coincidence but that voice of his is fucking with my mind and body.

“Go on,” he prompts.

“Like you say, it's more fun when you're with me.”

“How so?”

I close my eyes and think back to the last time he joined me in there. I swallow thickly as I realise it was probably one of the last times we saw each other before this stretch apart. The morning that he left in fact. We both had early starts that day, both heading to the airport but on flights to opposite sides of the country. He'd reached past me for the shower gel and I had pulled his arm around me before I could stop myself.

“Siobhan,” he prompts softly and I wonder if he's realised why I've gone quiet.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yes,” I say, the single word forced from my mouth before my real emotions can betray me.

He chuckles quietly. “You tasted so damn sweet that morning.”

My stomach flips.

“You think I haven't been replaying that morning over and over again?” he continues. “Fuck, sweetheart, it's what's been keeping me going for the last few weeks. The thought of coming home, crawling over you... Down you... Eating you...”

I bite back the moan that's threatening to break loose, only to let out a wanton whimper instead as I remember twisting in his arms, pulling his mouth to mine. My fingers tangled in his wet hair as he backed me up against the shower wall, his hands skimming over my sides to squeeze my hips, my ass. His dick was already hard against my stomach as I curled one leg around his thigh and brazenly humped, silently willing him to fuck me hard and fast.

But he took his sweet time. A cocky grin gracing his face as he pulled back and pushed my arms above my head, holding them in place with one hand as his other slipped between my legs. He made a big show of licking his fingers clean, his eyes closing as he moaned at the taste.

My mind is starting to fuzz, Seth's voice distant as I remember his mouth on my breasts, my stomach, my thigh. His hand gripping my leg as he pushed it over his shoulder, his breath hot against my clit. Every lick, suck, nip was slow and controlled. It was torture, my grip on his head tightening with every teasing stroke he made with his tongue.

“... Not this time though...” Seth's voice cuts into my thoughts.

“Not this time?” I question hesitantly, not willing to give away the fact that I've been day-dreaming about that morning rather than listen to him tell me what his plans are for us tomorrow.

This time there's a slight edge to his chuckle, an edge that makes my thighs clamp together as heat starts to pool in my stomach. “This time I'm not giving up so easily.”

“Giving up?” I frown at the ceiling.

“I'm not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not matter how much you want me to.”

“I...”

“I'm gonna pin those fucking legs to the bed and eat you out until you scream yourself hoarse.”

Fuck.

“Pin down those hands of yours too,” he adds, the sly grin that's blatantly gracing his face obvious in his tone. “No way are you gonna be able to stop me, sweetheart.”

“Seth...” I manage to exhale, squirming on the bed, desperately trying to keep my nerve as the thought of my thighs on his shoulders clouds my mind, his hands gripping mine as his hair tickles my skin whilst his tongue slowly laps at my entrance.

“That sound good?” He whispers breathlessly and I wonder what he's doing. The thought of him fisting his dick as he talks to me causes that previously held back moan to finally break free. He laughs darkly in response. “I take that as a yes, sweetheart.”

My tongue darts across my dry lips as I stammer out my agreement.

“We ain't leaving that bed for a long time,” he whispers, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone than before. But not for long. A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Well, at least I'm gonna make damn sure you can't.”

My mind, which has until this point been working at breakneck speed, suddenly screeches to a halt. “What do you mean?”

“That would be telling, sweetheart. You really want me to spoil the surprise?”

I pout at the ceiling, my stubbornness fighting to the surface. “You don't play fair, Rollins.”

“There was a time where you didn't play fair either.”

I frown for a second, before realisation dawns on me. “I gave you what you wanted in the end. And don't deny that you didn't enjoy every second of the build up.”

“I told you I'd get my revenge one day,” he reminds me. “And you know revenge is best served cold.”

“Ice cold in your case,” I shoot back. “That happened almost a year ago.”

“And I've never forgotten it. You sliding all over me, your fucking ass bouncing in my face... On my dick...” He lets out a soft groan at the memory and I'm right there with him.

He makes me feel like a fucking goddess at the best of the times, but that was probably the one time I felt like one even before he saw me. I remember standing in the bathroom, staring at my reflection, watching my hand shaking as I took a long sip of wine. I remember wondering why the hell was I doing this, why couldn't I just think of a regular anniversary gift rather than doing something so stupid. And then I took the plunge, opened the door and my nerves vanished with one look from Seth. The entire time he was shifting in his chair, his hands scraping along his thighs, swallowing thickly as I taunted him with my movements. Heat radiated from his skin as I touched him and his kiss was searing at the end, his words rough, his touch determined as he showed me exactly what effect I had on him.

“And I've never forgotten that I was due some payback for that as well.”

“Well, you've had enough time to think about it,” I tease with a grin. “This better be worth the wait.”

“Trust me, it will.”

There's a brief pause. Down the line, there's a loud knock at a door, a muffled voice calling through, followed by a muttered 'shit' from Seth.

“I gotta go,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Some people have impeccable timing.”

“Go,” I tell him. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

I can practically hear the grin that spreads across his face. “Can't wait, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” I whisper as I hear him stand, a chair scraping across the floor.

“Love you too, sweet dreams.”

Silence. I stare at the phone in my hand, his singular image replaced by one of the two of us taken down in Tampa whilst stopping over at Lex and Roman's. I'm perched on Seth's lap as we sit in the backyard, my face scrunched up with laughter, my nose pressed against his cheek as he pulls a face at the camera. He has one hand around my waist, his fingers disappearing under the hem of my shirt, the other casually caressing my bare leg. I shiver at the thought of his calloused fingers dragging across my skin tomorrow.

I close my eyes and I'm right there in the hallway, pinned against the wall in a never-ending kiss, his hands pushing under my shirt as I claw at his arms, his hair, his neck, anchoring him to me in anyway possible. I bite my lip in anticipation.

Sweet dreams indeed.

The sheets and blankets hug me close as I twist beneath them, my eyes remaining forcibly shut as I fight the urge to wake up. I snuggle deeper into the bed, my head burying between the pillows as I breathe in deeply and catch a faint whiff of Seth's aftershave. A small smile tugs at my lips, my mind starting to slip back into slumber. My leg automatically shifts as I'm pulled into a world where he's already lying beside me and said leg is curling over his, waiting for his hand to brush against my knee and rock me slowly onto my side where he can claim my mouth in a lazy, breathless kiss.

A soft click disturbs my dream and I frown into the pillow as the image of Seth disappears and is replaced by the harsh reality that I'm waking up alone. I curse early rising neighbours as I open one eye and cast a bleary look towards the curtains which are slowly turning lighter from the rising sun.

A rustle beyond the bedroom door makes me freeze. I hold my breath as the rustling sounds moves closer, the door creaking quietly. My heart is pounding, my brain fighting with my nerves as I somersault from one thought to another as I sense someone behind me, next to the bed, staring down at me as I hide beneath the sheets.

Cool air slides across my neck as the sheets are slowly tugged from my grasp. A familiar scent invades my senses and my fear immediately subsides.

“Seth! What the fuck?!” I twist furiously to face him, but I only catch a glimpse of his arm, tanned and muscular, before his large hand slides over my eyes. “What the–”

His chuckles sends a shiver down my spine. “Good morning to you too.”

My hand scrambles against his, tugging at his fingers, but he refuses to let them slip from my face. “What's with the creeping?” I scowl into the darkness.

“I wasn't creeping. I didn't realise you were awake.” His warm breath tickles my cheek. “I was planning to wake you up in a very different way...”

His lips brush against mine, slow and purposeful. The hand still remains over my eyes, shielding my view as I feel the sheets being pushed away, the cool air hitting my bare breasts. I try to help him, desperate to feel him, all of him, pressed against me. But my assistance is refused, my hands knocked softly back onto the mattress.

I feel him shift above me, his jean-clad thigh brushing against my side, the roughness making me twitch, my body involuntarily twisting away. But rather than a sighed frown, my response makes him snicker and his fingers rub soothingly against my temple as he continues to block my vision with his palm.

“What did I tell you last night?” His voice has that same rasp from our late night conversation and my body reacts in the same way it did then, my thighs pressing together as he continues to drag the sheets down my legs, my nipples tightening slightly and not from the cool air alone. “Sweetheart...”

I swallow hard, trying to remember, but it's so damn hard with his other hand trailing from my ankle to my knee. “You're... You're not going to stop...”

“That's right,” he praises. “And what else?”

Something cool brushes across my stomach. The tip of it teases around my bellybutton and I gasp as it dips inside, my hips pressing into the mattress as I try and fail to squirm out of reach.

“What else?” Seth prompts.

It's silk – the softness gives it away as a large strip of the material flutters across my ribcage, heading north for a second before casually changing direction and curling under my breasts and back down to my stomach.

“I... I won't be able to stop you,” I stammer as the silk trails over my hip, my thigh, between my legs... A quiet curse leaves my lips. There's a pause and then the silk repeats its path. Again. And again.

“Anything else?” He murmurs as the silk drags back up my stomach, between my breasts, tickling my throat.

“You...” I start, but the rest of my sentence is lost in surprise as his hand slips from my eyes. I catch a brief sight of him as I blink in the light, only managing to note that he's shirtless and the top button of his jeans is undone, the dark trail of hair winking at me before my sight is cut off for good.

He leans over me, cupping my head as he ties the scarf, his touch gentle as he lowers me back onto the pillows.

“You okay?” he murmurs in my ear, fingers pushing my hair away from my neck.

“Yes,” I breathe back.

“Not too tight?” he questions as he traces my cheeks with his fingertips. I shake my head, my own hands coming up to adjust the scarf ever so slightly before he engulfs them in his larger ones.

A soft whimper escapes me as he presses his lips to my fingertips, his thumbs running over my palms and across my wrists as he does.

“So what else did I tell you?” he prompts once again.

“Pin my legs to the bed.”

“And?”

“My... my hands,” I groan as his lips brush against my wrists.

“Right.” My hands are pushed back, his grip firm as he pushes them above my head, unfurling my fingers and then wrapping them around the vertical slats of the headboard. “Stay there.”

I feel him move from the bed, feet padding across the bedroom. A drawer sliding open and closed. There's a pause and then the sound of a zipper being undone and I fail to hold back the soft whine. A quiet laugh drifts through the air and I scowl in response.

The foot of the bed dips and my legs naturally shift wider to accommodate him. A hand presses just above my knee, widening them still. The other hand... Fuck.

The cold metal makes me jump. My hands grip the headboard tighter and I hiss loudly as he slides the handcuffs up my leg. The chain clinks together as he adjusts his hold and lets the two cuffs drift over my hip. He straddles my thighs, his bare legs tight against mine, restricting my movements as lays the cuffs on my stomach for a second. His finger circles the restraints, tickling my skin at the same time before I feel his arms rest either side of my head and the warmth from his chest as he hovers above me.

“We can stop anytime,” he reassures as he nuzzles my neck. “Just tell me, okay?”

I nod. “I'm okay.”

His lips pucker into a smile against my skin as he reaches between us and tugs the handcuffs further up my body. The chain clips my nipple and my back arches, another hiss slipping from my lips as I hear one cuff click open. My wrist is captured a second later, the long chain winding through the headboard as he reaches for my other hand and snaps the second cuff into place.

“Much better,” he says and I can almost picture the smirk on his face, his head titled to one side as he surveys me, bound and blinded and completely at his mercy. My fingers feel along the chain, noting its slack and how, as my wrists slide inside the cuffs, I could probably pull my hands free if I wanted. I wonder if its a deliberate move on his part or a happy coincidence in his choice of restraints.

The tips of his fingers stroke my wrists, slowly working their way down my extended arms. They pause half way down, barely-there circles around the inside of my elbows which makes me shiver yet crave more of his gentle touch. I wonder how long the slow will last. Judging by his promises yesterday, I'm in for the long haul. But I have no place I'd rather be than right here, waiting for his next move as his fingers dance down the remaining length of my arms to my shoulders.

A small whimper slips from me as his lips make contact with my neck. He lingers on the edges of spots that he knows drive me wild. No matter how much I twist and turn my head, he refuses to give in, nudging me back to my original position where he can torture me easily.

“Seth...” I groan as the tip of his tongue traces along my collarbone, avoiding the sensitive skin just above it that he usually loves to suck and bite.

“All in good time,” he murmurs in response. “I'll get you there, I promise.”

His words, no matter how well intended, do little to satisfy my cravings. I let go of a frustrated whine, frowning as he pulls back completely.

“Patience,” he reminds me, a hand coming to cup my chin and I can feel his warm breath on my lips as he finally closes the gap between us and his mouth claims my own. He tastes of coffee and chocolate, presumably from his early morning breakfast and I desperately wish there was enough give in the chain so that I could at least run my fingers through his hair as he teases my mouth. His lips slip from mine and he starts to press open-mouthed kisses to my neck.

I hold my breath in anticipation as he makes his way around to the sweet spot just below my right ear. Once again, he pauses, latching onto the less sensitive skin for a second before...

“Yes,” I hiss, a grin tugging at my lips as he suckles, his lips tight. My back arches, my breasts hitting his bare chest as my fingers curl around the chain once again for leverage. “Please, don't stop.”

He sucks harder, his teeth scraping much to my delight as I curse happily at the never-ending sensation, praying that he won't stop until he leaves a mark. I've got no meetings for at least a week, enough time for marks of our adventures this weekend to fade without trace. But he's soon pulling back, a finger tracing the spot and I know there must at least be a faint bruise.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles, his lips brushing across the spot once again before he slides down to my collar bone, nipping at the taut skin.

Fingers edge their way under my breast, running along my ribcage, making me flinch as they hit the ticklish spots that are fully exposed thanks to my position. Back and forth they move, inching higher every so often and then back down, until my breathing is ragged from anticipation and pleas consistently fill the air.

“Seth... Please... I can't... I can't stand... You... Teasing...”

“Don't say things you don't mean,” he responds, his mouth still at my collarbone and I can feel his lips slide up into a small grin. His legs, which until now have been pushing mine further apart, move so that he is straddling my right leg and his thigh slowly pushing against my panty-clad core. “Aw, sweetheart... Seems like you're enjoying this more than you think...”

I feel my cheeks redden as my arousal is completely exposed to him. He's right though. Despite the teasing, the touches that don't quite reach where I want, he still manages to make my skin tingle and my insides clench in expectation.

His lips flutter across my heated cheeks. “Nothing to be ashamed about,” he reassures. “I've always loved how you know what you want. I love how you grab my hand and place it where you want. It's fucking sexy, Siobhan... But you know, sometimes you need to explore a little... You might find that there's something else you like. But you gotta let me show you for once. Let me show you that I know exactly what you want.” His hand gradually engulfs my breast, squeezing softly before pulling back, his fingers pulling at the flesh, until only the tips of his fingers cling to my nipple and he tugs gently before releasing.

I'm gasping for air, straining against the cuffs as my back arches, desperately trying to find his hand once again.

“See?” he whispers as I wantonly grind against his thigh. I can feel him against my hip, his boxers doing little to hide his own arousal. If only I could touch him right now. I want to feel him in my hand, I want to pump my fist around him slowly and see his eyes close as he groans.

“Again,” I beg, moaning loudly as he obliges me with another drawn out grope of my breast. This time his fingers pinch a little harder, making me yelp and then mewl as his tongue carves a path from my neck down between my breasts.

His warm breath makes me shiver as it ghosts over my hard nipple and I grind fervently down on his thigh again as I hear him lick his lips. The tip of his tongue makes never-ending circles, slowly closing in on its prize and I hold my breath as his mouth closes over my nipple, only releasing it with a sigh as he tugs softly.

“Fuck...”

His other hand is teasing my previously neglected breast, his fingers mimicking the pattern of his tongue and mouth. My head feels like its about to explode from sensory overload as he hums around my breast, sending ripples of pleasure through my body. His teeth scrape against the hard tip as he pulls back for a second and I gasp loudly, the handcuffs rattling against the headboard as I strain to push my breast back into his mouth. But all I can feel is cool air hitting the wet tip as he shifts above me and his focus turns to my other breast.

“Just how I like 'em,” he grunts as he finishes teasing with me with his sinful mouth. “Hard... Wet...” He pinches each nipple for emphasis, making me cry out, both my legs wrapping around his thick thigh as I try and push myself closer to the edge.

But he's having none of that. A strong hand grips my left leg and pushes it back onto the bed. “No fucking way,” he murmurs. “You're not gonna get off that easily, sweetheart. I'm gonna take my time, remember? There ain't gonna be any shortcuts, understand?”

A finger curls under my chin, his lips brushing against mine. “Understood?” he repeats and I nod with a whimper. “Good girl.”

I've never felt so vulnerable. I've never felt so charged. It's a weird combination and I'm struggling to understand how it makes me feel. There are many times where he's pinned me to the bed and teased me until I'm on the verge of crying, but this feels different. His words, his actions, whilst they still carry a tenderness that I recognise, there's a hint of something else. It makes me feel dizzy. I have a sudden urge to be praised again, a desperation to show him good I can really be. It's like he's tapping into something I never knew existed within me. It's as if he knows already that his behaviour is having a deeper effect on me than I could even begin to fathom.

Fuck, I love him. I love how he can read me, how he can play with me and push me to places I never thought imaginable, but that I end up craving more of. He has me on the edge already and I can't even begin to imagine where else this is heading. I'm almost at breaking point, my breathing ragged and heavy as his hands fist my breasts again, harder this time, his fingers unforgiving as they pinch and twist, yanking breathless moan after moan from my throat.

His mouth is warm and wet as he sucks on one nipple again and then the other, his fingers spreading the wetness he leaves across my chest before they climb up my neck and slip into my own mouth. I suck fervently, listening to him groan as I scrape my teeth along his fingertips. I inwardly grin at how so small an action can have an effect on him and I'm reminded that this is a two-way street – that despite my predicament, I still have a power over him too.

Hands brush against my sides, fingers curling under my arched back as he bites at my breast. They slip inside the waistband of my panties, causing my hips to buck up as well, my weight balanced between my shoulders and feet. But I smirk as I feel him rub against my hip, a soft curse floating through the air as he grips my ass harder and grinds his length against me.

“I need you,” I tell him. “I need you inside me.”

“Patience,” he groans, but I can tell his resolve is starting to slip, those deliciously sinful hips of his bucking against me as he fights to maintain control over his body. I twist my head in attempt to loosen the blindfold, desperate to see his face, to watch him struggle with his own urges. Watching him come undone is fascinating. I love when I'm on top, staring down at his beautiful face as he bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as I clench my pussy around his dick and ride him hard and slow. I like to bat his hands away as he clamours to hold me down on him so he can thrust up into me instead and reach his climax his own way. Sometimes I let him, but most of the time, I giggle at his frustration, knowing full well it's worth it in the end to see him fist the pillow instead as he jerks beneath me, feeling him pulse inside me as he lets out a long moan, my name punctuating the air.

But not today. Today it's my turn to give myself over to him and let him control what happens to me from here on in. He eases away from my leg, pushing it and the other wider as he settles between them and my breath catches in my throat as his mouth moves away from my breast and his beard starts to tickle my stomach.

He's as slow as ever, open-mouthed kisses pressed to my heated skin as he sinks south, fingers tugging me panties along with him. His tongue swirls around my bellybutton, his hands quick to press me firmly into the mattress as I try to squirm. I'm forced to surrender to the torture, a soft cry tearing from my mouth and my head threatens to burst from the overwhelming frustration.

Sheets rustle as he rises, my legs sliding over his as he pulls me down the bed, the chain tightening, the cuffs digging into my wrists.

“Fuck, you're perfect.”

Tears prick my blinded eyes as I struggle not to break. His hand is running up and down my thigh, a tender stroke that matches the tone of his voice.

“I mean, I always knew I was a lucky fucker to have you in my life, but Christ, Siobhan... You are perfection.” His hand squeezes my hip. “I wish you could see what you look like right now.”

My throat is dry as words escape me before I can stop them. “Take a photo then.”

Seth's hand freezes on my hip. “Are... Are you serious?”

Am I? I don't know. All I can think about is how I want his hand to keep squeezing, how I want him to keep talking. How I want him to describe to me what I look like right now, but better yet, I want to hear the click of a photo being taken when there is nothing I can do to stop it. I want to see, in all its technicolour glory, exactly how I look blindfolded, handcuffed and completely exposed to him.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Please, Seth. I wanna see.”

His hand leaves me and the bed moves beneath me as he steps away. I can hear him scrambling on the floor and then his weight dips the bed again. His hand makes me jump as he cups my face, his thumb brushing against my lip.

“I love you,” I hear him say, but my response catches in my throat. “It's okay,” he breathes against my cheek. “Tell me afterwards.”

He moves back, his hand squeezing my hip again as he presses my legs further apart with his thighs.

Click.

The phone bounces on the floor and I feel his hand curl around my ankle, tugging my leg up so he can rest it on his shoulder. His lips brush against my calf and I whine in frustration as he presses his still confined dick against my aching pussy. He rubs steadily, deliberately, hissing at the wetness that is obviously soaking the material between us.

“You're dripping, sweetheart... Just how I like it. I'm gonna clean you up good and proper,” he groans. “And then make you wet all over again... And again... And again...” He thrusts against me a little harder with every word, his grip on my ankle tightening as my leg threatens to slip from his shoulder.

His tongue blazes a path from my ankle to my knee, his hand slipping to grip my thigh instead, bending my leg back towards me and I can feel his length press against my entrance.

“I'm gonna fuck you hard and slow,” he tells me with authority. “Until you scream for me. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” I hiss as his lips reach the back of my thigh.

“Good girl,” he mumbles against my skin and I have to bite my lip hard to stop myself from... From what, I don't know, but the pain in my lip, the softness of his lips and the grit in his voice is becoming too much to bear. My hips buck against him, my frustration obvious.

Too obvious.

A hand cracks against my ass, squeezing hard. “What did I tell you before?”

Fuck. I can't cope with that bass in his voice. It's too much. I can feel my own juices slipping between my ass cheeks as his hand squeezes again and my head is spinning and I can't find the word I need right now.

“Tell me,” he commands, his fingers digging into my ass roughly.

“Patience,” I manage to squeak.

His fingers sooth my aching flesh, his mouth soft once again on my thigh as he eases my leg wider, pressing it down onto the bed. He shifts above me and I jump as I feel his breath on my stomach once again, his tongue trailing a path south. His beard brushes against my lower abdomen and I fight the urge to raise my hips.

His nose settles against the small triangle of hair, his mouth so close to where I need it the most, warm breath tickling me insane as he inhales deeply.

“You smell divine,” he murmurs, the words vibrating through me as I whimper and whine and mewl in order to let him know how fucking torturous this is.

His hands grip my inner thighs, slowly pushing them wider. My feet scramble on the bed sheets until I give in and let him manoeuvre my legs any which way he wants. My feet leave the bed as he eases my legs up, still bent at the knee, all the while his breath is still hot on my clit, his nose still nuzzling against me and I know that the second his lips touch me, I'm going to lose my fucking mind.

Something cool hits my entrance and I realise with a lurch of my body that he's spat on my pussy. I can feel it sliding over my exposed lips and then I cry out as his tongue slowly starts to lap. A muffled moan makes my back arch and I groan as his forearm slides over my hips and presses me back onto the bed. His hand twists over my pubic bone, his fingers tracing the edges of my entrance as he pulls back the skin and licks from the bottom up, stopping short of my clit.

“Seth!”

He chuckles and I can picture the cocky grin on his face as his fingers spread me wide and he repeats his motion again and again, his tongue eating up my juices just as he promised. I'm a mess already, my body completely restrained now, my sensitive core at his mercy as he swipes that devilish tongue up and down, still avoiding my clit. He pulls back for a second and I can hear him lick his lips, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, fingers replacing his tongue as he catches his breath. One finger dips inside me, twisting slightly before retreating.

And then I can smell my scent, his finger brushing against my open mouth, slipping inside and I can taste myself. I suck his finger clean, much to his delightful groan and I whine softly when it falls from my lips and trails back down my body.

Two fingers push inside me now and he lazily thrusts them back and forth as his arm moves from my waist to push against the back of my legs, pressing them back further and further until I'm almost bent in half.

Hot breath just where I need it the most and I find myself holding my own breath as I silently pray for that mouth to cover my clit. I need it. I want it. I...

“FUCK!”

My voice is a strangled shout as Seth's lips finally close around me and tug slowly. He releases me a second latter and I'm panting, begging him for more, cursing him as he chuckles and refuses me. His fingers slip from me, the sound of my wetness filling the room as his mouth covers my entrance instead and his fingers find their way up to my mouth once again.

He kisses me as I suck them dry, his tongue pushing inside me, my resulting moan muffled by his digits. His forearm flexes against the back of my legs as he pushes his tongue deeper inside me, humming as he does and making me twitch and jerk against my restraints.

I'm so fucking close already. I've never cum this quick in all the time we've been together. He might be working me over slowly, but I'm unravelling at breakneck speed and I know the second his lips find their way back to my clit I'm going to–

My mouth twists away from his fingers, a howl ripping through me as he sucks hard on my clit, the sensitive flesh pulsing in his grasp as my whole body starts to spasm. I can feel tears breaking free, my lungs working painfully fast to gasp for as much air as possible as I writhe in his grasp, my body shutting down with every second that passes and that mouth of his still works my clit with no sign of stopping.

My body goes rigid, my mind blacking out and then nothing.

A cool hand strokes my cheek. A soft, warm tongue laps between my legs, which are now resting on his shoulders. Fingers dance across my stomach and up to my breasts, teasing my nipples as I let out a groggy moan.

“Sweetheart...” Seth mumbles, his lips moving to my inner thigh. “You okay?”

“Seth,” my voice cracks.

“What? Tell me.” His voice has lost that earlier grit, as if he knows exactly what I need right now.

“Please,” I whimper and I feel him smile against my skin. He presses another kiss to my burning flesh, another slow, long lick of my pussy before he shifts.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything.”

His boxers are long gone it seems and I can now feel him, all of him pressed firmly against my thigh. He's rock hard and my tongue automatically slips out to lick my lips, a gesture that earns a rumbling groan from Seth.

“You want this dick, huh?” The rasp, the grit is back hard and strong.

I nod.

“Where, Siobhan, tell me where?”

“My mouth.”

The silence is palpable.

“Shit...” he exhales.

“Please...” I'm fucking begging. My mind is screaming, my body still trembling from aftershocks of what he's just done to me, but I need him. I want to taste him. I want to feel as much of him as I can.

The bed moves beneath me, his legs brushing against mine as he climbs over me, beside me. His scent drifts over me and my mouth starts to water. His hand tentatively cups my cheek, slipping to the back of my head, easing me up from my pillows.

The tip of his dick slips against my lips and my tongue darts out to tease his slit before he can jerk away.

“Fuck,” I hear him groan as I lean my head further forward and wrap my lips around the tip completely.

I hum in satisfaction as he slides further into my mouth and I let my saliva coat as much of him as possible before pulling back. I know what gets to him – he loves watching me suck hard on the tip, loves it even more if I trail my tongue from his balls to tip, goes fucking crazy if I take him all the way into my mouth in one go. But it's hard for me to do that when I'm bound and blinded.

“Help me out,” I murmur, hoping he gets the hint.

His grip on my head tightens as he angles my mouth just right and I shiver as I feel him guide himself into my mouth, my tongue pressing against the underside as he pushes more and more, making me groan as he hits the back of my throat.

“Holy fuck, Siobhan... Jesus... Oh fuck,” he grunts loudly as I start to bob on his dick, relishing in the way he feels in my mouth, how his fingers are digging into my scalp, how even though I've been at his mercy for the majority of this morning that I'm still able to bring him to his knees as well.

His hips buck forward and my throat tightens around him as I struggle to push back against his hand.

“Oh shit,” he gasps as I squeal around him and he's pulling back fast, his grip loosening as I gasp for breath. “Fuck, fuck, Siobhan. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. Shit!”

I can feel his hands on mine, fingers fumbling.

“Seth... Stop.”

“I am, I am. I didn't mean to do that. I really didn't. I'm sorry.”

“Seth,” I repeat, my voice calm. “Leave them.”

His fingers still. “Are... Are you sure?”

I smile into the darkness. “Of course.”

“I don't deserve you,” he mumbles and my heart threatens to crack.

“Come here, please...” I feel him settle beside me, his fingers stroking my cheek. “Kiss me, Seth.”

He's slow and gentle, silently begging me to forgive him. But I already have. I kiss him back, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip, encouraging him, pushing him to give me what I want.

“Now fuck me,” I breathe as he pulls back for a second. “Hard and slow, remember?”

His forehead presses against mine. “You're too good for me,” he whispers.

“Hard and slow,” I repeat. “Make me scream.”

I want him to take back the control. I want to push him back to when his voice was deep and raspy and he called me a 'good girl' and made me cry with want and need and pure deprivation.

“I'm all yours,” I whisper.

“All mine,” he growls and I grin in satisfaction as he moves beside me, in front of me, his hands sliding up my legs as he pushes them into the air and holds them wide, his fingers digging into my ankles.

His dick slides against my pussy as he rocks back and forth, the tip rubbing over my clit, making me hiss and curse.

“That's right,” he groans. “Slick my dick up, sweetheart. C'mon, move those hips for me.”

I do as he commands, rocking against him as his dick thrusts back and forth faster and faster.

I yelp as he pushes inside me, the intrusion a blissful surprise as I take him all in, my walls clinging to him as he breathes heavily above me.

“Damn,” I hear him mutter, his hands squeezing my ankles as he twitches inside me and I groan out of desperation to feel him move. “You're so... fucking tight... And so goddamn wet, sweetheart. Fuck...”

His hips rock against me, his dick pushing deeper inside me. He slowly moves them in a circle and I cry out as he brushes against my G-spot.

“Shi-it... Seth...”

“That's right, sweetheart. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He rocks back and then thrusts forward with renewed strength, making my breasts jerk violently, my fingers tightening around the metal chain for leverage as I try to steel myself against his thrusts.

“You're... It's so fucking deep,” I choke out as he thrusts into me again and again. “Harder... Please...”

He grunts as he gives me what I want, pushing my legs further out, spreading me wide before him as he pounds my pussy and makes me choke on my words, my moans, my inevitable screams.

“You're so wet,” he tells me again. “My dick is covered in you, Siobhan. And you're dripping everywhere. Jesus...”

He lets go of one ankle, my leg dropping to the bed as his fingers once again brush over my lips.

“Suck.”

I wet them enthusiastically, moaning as they slip from my mouth and then hissing as I feel the tips of his fingers slide over my clit.

“Aww, shit... Seth...”

“Cum for me,” he grunts. “Now. Do it. Cum. For. Me.”

He rubs furiously, his other hand slipping from my ankle as well, reaching forward to grab my breast, squeezing it hard. My leg is caught between his arm and body, bending backwards as he leans forward over me, his fingers still working my clit over and over as I feel my orgasm hurtling towards me.

“Now,” he growls against my mouth, my scent still fresh on his breath.

He swallows my scream, his tongue plundering my mouth as I shudder and shake and rut against him, his fingers relentless as I spill over his dick and he slides in and out of me with renewed gusto. I'm broken beneath him, but he doesn't stop. Just like he promised.

“Again,” he mumbles against my lips. “I wanna feel that pussy tighten again. I wanna feel you cum on my dick again.”

“I... Fuck, Seth...”

I can feel a small after-tremor start to build inside me, my clit too sensitive for more, but I can't move away and he's not stopping and I'm crying out, pleading, begging, torn between wanting more and wanting it to end.

My orgasm washes over me once again, his fingers easing off, only tickling as I gasp for breath and curse him and his dick and his fingers. He chuckles into my mouth as he kisses me tenderly.

“Good girl,” he tells me again, his hand releasing my breast and coming up to cup my cheek and I have to bite my lip to stop myself moaning. Once again I wonder if he realises the effect those words are having on me this morning. And just like that... “You like it when I call you that.”

I nod, my cheeks burning.

Another chuckle. “Roll over.”

I whimper as his dick slides out of me and he slowly eases me onto my stomach, the chain scraping together as it twists and my arms are pulled tight. But he's quick to make me for comfortable, moving me higher up the bed, moving pillows to under my head and twisting me so that I can rest my head on one side.

He straddles one leg, his knee nudging the other wider. His hands fist my ass, squeezing with alternate hard and soft kneads. A palm shifts to my lower back, pressing down gently so that my hips rise up and I can feel his dick sliding between my ass cheeks. I raise my hips a little higher, desperate for him to be inside me once again.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as I rock back wantonly and his dick slips inside me with ease. “That's it, sweetheart, fuck my dick like a good girl...”

I moan in response, his words sending endless shivers down my spine. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me back and forth on his length. My arms are starting to ache, my wrists sore from the metal cuffs that despite their looseness are digging in thanks to this position, but I don't care. All I care about is how good he feels inside me, how his fingers are digging into my ass and willing me to rock back faster and faster, how his panting is driving me insane and how desperately I want to cum again.

His hand smacks my ass and I rear up, crying out as the restraints scrape against the headboard. He smacks me again, groaning as my pussy clenches around his dick. A hand slides up my spine, followed by his lips as he flattens his body against mine. The same hand curls in my hair, twisting thick strands around his wrist as he tugs my head up from the pillow, his mouth on my neck, my jawline, my cheek, my lips.

“Again?” he mumbles.

“Please,” I croak as his hand presses between me and the mattresses, his fingers starting to work me over once again, unrelenting as always.

His chest sticks to my back, slick with sweat. His fist is tight in my hair as he pulls my head back further, his mouth latching onto my neck, refusing to let go as his hips continue to snap back and forth against my own. I want to push back on him, but I can't move, my body completely his as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge.

His teeth scrape my throat, his fingers relentless on my clit and I cry out loudly, my skin on fire, my mind fighting to stay focused, but unable to decide on what to focus on thanks to the havoc that he continues to wreak on my entire body.

“Fuck, Siobhan,” he groans in my ear, his tongue curling around the sensitive shell. “Cum with me. Please... I wanna feel you grip me as I cum inside you.”

“I'm close,” I promise. And I am, my body slowly starting to shut down as all focus turns to between my legs, his dick still pounding my pussy, his fingers still rubbing my clit.

The first wave washes over me with a groan... The second crashes against me, sending me flying, screaming as he holds me close, his mouth seeking out mine, warm and comforting as his hips snap against me one last time and he freezes, his dick pulsing as he empties inside me with a grunt.

My mouth slips from his with a gasp. My lungs are on fire as I struggle to breathe, his weight too heavy, my arms screaming in pain as I try to shift beneath him.

“Seth–” I start to choke out, but he's already moving, scrambling above me, his hands on mine, the cuffs clicking open. I breathe deeply, my lungs still burning, my body aching as he rolls me onto my side, soothing fingers brushing along my cheeks, behind my head, the scarf loosening and slipping free.

Warm, brown eyes greet me and I blink back tears that threaten to fall again. I've missed him so much and even though I've felt him and tasted him and heard him, seeing him before me is something else.

“Hey,” he whispers, his hands running down my arms and pulling my hands up to his face where he slowly inspects my wrists. “Are you okay?”

I nod, watching as he kisses the red pinch marks that adorn my wrists. His eyes flicker up to mine once again.

“Hey,” he breathes again, fingers reaching out to brush against my cheeks. “Fuck, Siobhan... I... I didn't mean to push you like that.”

“You didn't,” I swallow thickly, my vision blurring. “That was fucking insane, Seth. In a good way, I promise.”

But it doesn't stop him from pulling me closer, as he fumbles with sheets and blankets and tugs them around us, over our heads so we're engulfed by warmth.

“You're incredible,” he whispers. “I was ready to stop at anytime. I would have stopped before we'd even started if you wanted me to.”

“I know. But I didn't want you to stop,” I smile shyly and then giggle. “How long have you been hiding those handcuffs?”

He grins. “A while... I was waiting for the right moment.”

“How long?” I push with a pinch to his bicep.

“A few months,” he admits. “I remembered you told me once that you wouldn't mind being tied up and teased. Figured it was the perfect way to get you back for teasing me on our anniversary.”

“And last night?”

“I wanted to make sure you were still open to the idea.” He pushes back my hair from my face. “But I still wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me well and truly surprised.”

“In more ways than one?” His eyes glint and I lower my gaze.

“Perhaps,” I admit, thinking back to the way he commanded me, how turned on I was by his choice of words. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember the click of the camera, how much I want to see that photo so that we can relive this over and over again. And I wonder...

A finger slips under my chin, nudging my gaze up. “You know that's okay, right?”

“I know.”

“You just tell me,” he smiles reassuringly. “You want this again, you just tell me.”

“I know.” And then my emotions take over, all the pent up wants and desires of seeing him in front of me and not having to imagine any more. For now at least. My voice cracks. “I just want you, Seth.”

I watch as his face visibly softens. “You got me, Siobhan. Always.”

His fingers lace between mine and I watch as he pulls my hand up to his lips.

And I'm right back in the hotel room, watching him hold my gaze as he kisses my ring finger again and again. And I'm wondering why I was so hesitant. Because why the hell would I not want to live the rest of my life with a man who cares for me, who craves me, who wants to make me happy more than anything else in the world? Why would I give that up on a maybe?

And I want to give him everything I have as well. I want to be the person he calls when he has good news or bad. I want to be the person that he turns to in times of happiness and sadness. I want to be the constant in a life that is full of ups and downs. I just want to be his. And I want him to be mine.

All I want is for him to know that I am as serious about us as he is. I want him to know that moving in with him is just the beginning. I want him to know that sure, it might take some time, but I do want everything and more with him. I want to share a million other moments just like this. I want to explore my limits, my desires, my entire life with him by my side, pushing me to try new things, whether that's in bed or out of it.

All I want is to give him a sign, no matter how big or small, that I'm here for the long haul.

Because...

One day.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too,” he tells me, rocking me slowly onto my back, his mouth covering mine.

Always.

“Mine,” he mumbles against my mouth.

“Yours,” I breathe back.

One day.

My hand curls around the back of his head and I tug him up, staring into his eyes as he hovers above me.

“I...” I stammer, pausing as the rational side of my brain starts to scream. But I strive forward, ignoring the doubts and the worries that always seem to surround me. “I want it all, Seth.”

He stares at me, his eyes shining, his mouth curling upwards. “Siobhan...”

“I want it all,” I repeat, my voice steady and firm.

His eyes lower to his hand in mine. “I wasn't pushing.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?”

Am I?

But I already know the answer. And so does he.

Fin x

#seth freakin rollins #seth rollins fanfiction #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins #sethrollins #seth rollins smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

Text

The Girl He Left Behind [Part Fifteen]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 8139 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught

Notes: ITS OSCARS DAY!! But whatever way it goes we’ve at least got something. ELVIS AND ADDIE ARE FINALLY TOGETHER! 💙

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892

Addison was standing in the kitchen waiting by the door and readying herself for the tell-tale sign that Elvis was awake. Four days. They had barely seen each other in four days, let alone spoken to one another. They were like passing ships. Whilst she was out at school he was at home, mostly catching up on sleep, and when she came home he was gone, only coming back in the wee hours when he was sure she was going to be in bed. The only thing was she didn’t know why. The night at the Memphian he had assured her nothing was wrong yet his behaviour didn’t support that. He was an enigma, and she was frustrated trying to crack it.

In the first couple of days, she had figured he’d come around in his own time but as the week ticked on she feared that might not be the case. So, when Saturday morning had rolled around she’d put a plan into action. She was going to get him to talk to her no matter what. But just as she was listening out for sounds of him moving around in the bedroom Mary came bustling in with groceries in hand distracting her.

‘Oh, there you are,’ she said as Addison rushed to take a heavy sack out of her arms and put it on the counter, ‘my backs about to give out.’ ‘You shouldn’t be carrying stuff like that I’ve told you,’ Addison chastised. Mary chuckled and took a seat at the kitchen table, holding her back with a wince. ‘Ain’t no option,’ Mary said, ‘there’s no one else around.’ ‘What am I chopped liver?’ Addison said with a smirk. It felt odd to smile since over the past few days she hadn’t had much reason to. ‘You’ve got your own stuff,’ Mary said. ‘I still work here,’ Addison reasoned, she stopped unpacking things and turned to lean on the counter only to find Mary watching her with a motherly gaze. Addison dropped hers and turned back to start unpacking things, suddenly realising why she hadn’t bothered her. People were still treating her with kid gloves.

‘How’re you doing sweetheart?’ Mary said from behind her, ‘you haven’t seemed yourself this week.’ ‘I’m fine,’ Addison said moving around the kitchen with various items so she didn’t have to meet the older woman’s eye. It was partly the truth. She had been doing just fine after her mother when she had Elvis by her side though without him was a different story. ‘No one would blame you if you weren’t doing so hot,’ Mary said. ‘I know. I guess we all pretend like we can manage more than we can huh?’ Addison said looking at her friend pointedly which made Mary smirk. ‘Hey now, I raised four young uns’. A baby on each hip and the others hanging off where they could. I can carry a couple of bags of groceries,’ Mary chuckled. ‘The way you’re gripping your back would beg to differ,’ Addison said pushing the older woman’s shoulder as she tried to get up, ‘you stay, I’ll grab the others from the car.’

Addison left the kitchen and headed out to the garage to get the other bags of groceries off the back seat but when she re-entered she heard movement moving faster than a speeding bullet down the stairs. ‘Jeez those boys fly about this house like the road runner,’ Mary said standing up and moving to unpack the bags Addison had laid on the counter. Addison didn’t stay put though, instead, she flew out of the kitchen and into the main hallway looking around for the culprit. By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs though there was no one there. ‘They’ve gone out,’ said a voice behind her making her turn around to find Dodger coming out of the dining room. ‘Elvis, I, I thought he was in bed,’ Addison said. ‘Well, he was until about ten minutes or so ago. Red came and picked him up and they just left. Did you need something, honey?’ Dodger said watching her kindly. Addison sighed and shook her head, ‘no, I’m okay.’ ‘Okay sweetheart,’ Dodger said, ‘you know I’m thinking about going to bingo today if you want to join me. I mean it’s church bingo so it’s vicious as hell but you never know. It might be quite fun.’ ‘Uh, I can’t…homework and stuff. Last weekend got me a little behind,’ Addison said feeling guilty as she clocked Dodger’s disappointed expression. ‘Not to worry,’ Dodger said patting her on the shoulder tenderly, ‘rain check.’

As Dodger toddled off into the living room Addison stood on the spot, glancing up the stairs and then to the door. She didn’t want to go back into the kitchen and talk to Mary. She didn’t want to go to bingo with Dodger and pretend like everything was okay. She wanted Elvis to talk to her. She wanted to be wherever he was, enjoying themselves as they had been last weekend, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon she feared. So, without thinking she grabbed the keys to the Lincoln from the hook by the door and headed to the car.

She was out of the gates of Graceland, passing the expectant fans without engaging, before she realised she didn’t know where she was going. She had no plan. No clue of what she should be doing given her only plans for the day had been usurped. She drove around for a while, passing through the suburban and later on industrial views of Memphis before she decided on where to go then she looped back on herself and eventually pulled up outside Marci’s. She parked up quickly and headed to the door knocking gently. There was a lull before she heard movement inside and then finally the door opened revealing Marci.

‘Addie,’ she said with surprise, ‘I didn’t know you were coming over.’ ‘Me either,’ Addison said feeling a lump forming in her throat. She opened her mouth, trying to suppress the tears from forming and falling though it wasn’t much help. ‘Is everything okay?’ Marci said. Addison shook her head. ‘No,’ she said finally starting to cry. Marci sighed and opened her arms, pulling her now sobbing friend into the house and closing the door behind her. She steered the pair of them through the house until they were at her room and once Addison was transferred onto the bed she sat down beside her throwing an arm around her and allowing her to get out everything that had been building over the past week if not months. As Addison’s crying started to subside she pulled out of her friend’s arms. Her breathing was shaky and her eyes red and raw but in spite of that, she felt better. Marci watched her closely feeling heartbroken for her best friend.

‘Sorry,’ Addison said with a sniffle as Marci offered her a tissue. ‘Don’t be,’ Marci said with a soft smile. ‘I don’t know what happened,’ Addison said with a shaky breath. ‘It’s been a lot it’s okay to feel a little overwhelmed…is he still not talking to you?’ Marci said with a frown. Addison shook her head, ‘he won’t even be in the same room with me. Any time we have been he’s put at least four people between us so we can’t talk. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what I’ve done. I thought maybe I’d read into things too much. Maybe he got spooked because he doesn’t feel like that for me.’ ‘Addie I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That can’t be it,’ Marci said. ‘But there’s nothing else I can think of!’ she said exasperatedly before looking at her friend apologetically, ‘I’m sorry, I’m just so confused.’ ‘That’s understandable,’ Marci said. ‘I just don’t know what to do,’ Addison grumbled throwing herself back so she was propped up against Marci’s bedroom wall from the shoulders only. Marci shifted back too but so that she was sitting up against the wall looking down at her friend. ‘Well talking’s out,’ she said, ‘maybe it’s time for action.’ ‘I tried that,’ she said thinking back to that first day back from the tour when she’d cornered him at the Memphian hoping he’d tell her what was wrong. ‘I don’t mean forcing him to talk to you,’ Marci said. ‘Then what?’ Addison said peering up at her friend with questioning eyes. ‘Maybe he’ll see sense if he sees you with someone else,’ Marci said with a cheeky glint in her eye. ‘Date someone else?’ Addison said pushing herself up. ‘Why not? He’ll see he’s being ridiculous I bet it!’ Marci said. ‘I don’t know Mar, I mean play with another guy like that? It’s not exactly fair is it,’ she said biting her lip. Marci’s smile faded and then she nodded, ‘yeah I suppose you’re right but I’m telling you Addie, that boy loves you whether he wants to admit it or not.’ ‘I wish I could believe that,’ Addison said morosely. Marci frowned and pulled her friend into a one-armed hug.

‘Well how about we don’t believe it then. How about we don’t even think about it?’ Marci said. ‘And how do you suppose we do that?’ Addison challenged quirking her eyebrow. ‘Well we can hang out here, have dinner and then Jer said he wanted to take me roller skating,’ Marci said, ‘you can come too.’ ‘Oh yeah spend the evening as your third wheel. Every girl’s dream,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Not a third wheel!’ Marci protested, ‘we can invite Steve and I promise not to leave you high and dry.’ ‘You’re sure?’ Addison sniffled. ‘Of course. It’ll be a lot of fun,’ Marci said, ‘and besides, I need more than Jer to keep me upright on that rink.’ ‘Now I have to come,’ Addison said with the first smile she had felt was genuine all day.

✵✵✵

The rink wasn’t super busy when they got there much to Addison’s surprise. Given that it was a Saturday night she was sure it would be packed with high school kids but there were hardly any around. In fact, as she neared the reception desk with her group she noticed that they were probably the youngest in there and everyone else looked mightily familiar. That was when she spotted him. Elvis.

He was sitting on one of the tables at the side of the rink, lacing his boots up with friends around him all laughing and joking. Most of his entourage was dotted about, some of them getting refreshments whilst others had already taken to the rink. Whilst Jerry and Steve stepped up to request skates for them all Addison yanked on her friend’s sleeve making her whip around to look at her.

‘I thought you said it was just the four of us!’ she hissed angrily. ‘I thought it was,’ Marci said though she rolled her eyes as Addison continued to look furious and disbelievingly at her, ‘okay fine! But if I had told you he was going to be here would you have come?’ ‘No,’ Addison said. ‘See!’ Marci sighed. ‘Because he obviously doesn’t want me here,’ she reasoned, ‘he didn’t even tell me the guys were going to the rink tonight.’ ‘Well that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be here,’ Marci said, ‘why not just enjoy yourself? He is.’

And before Addison could reply she swanned off behind Steve and Jerry towards the tables were everyone was getting ready for the rink. Addison followed going to sit down beside Marci on the bench next to the table Elvis was at. He glanced at her as she took off her shoes feeling a familiar ache in his core. It had been one he had been plagued with all week. Since he had pushed her away he had figured the best course of action was to keep her at arm’s length. Turns out that arm’s length hurt. A lot.

He had tried to keep his mind off of her but that in itself was hard. He spent little time in the house, only opting to be there whilst she was at school and by the time she got home he would be out doing anything and everything that would keep him distracted before he could creep in, assured that she would be in bed and unable to question him. The boys seemed to have gotten the message that he needed distracting which had been why they had suggested the rink tonight. And though he hadn’t felt like going he had figured it was a good way of keeping him away from her for a few more hours though now it seemed as though he needn’t have bothered.

Though he hadn’t told the boys outright not to invite her they seemed to get the gist that she wasn’t included in this week’s activities. He didn’t know how she’d gotten invited though as he saw she was with Marci and Jerry he figured he could guess. It wasn’t Jerry’s fault he supposed. After all Elvis did usually have a ‘more the merrier’ outlook when it came to activities like this. Still, it had been a shock to see her waltz in looking stunning as always. He wondered how she was doing. He scooted off the bench until he was standing ending up closer to her than he had been all week. She wasn’t paying attention as she stood up almost going smack-bang into the middle of his chest. Her hazel eyes met his, looking surprised for a second before they came stormy and she looked away.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and with that, she turned back towards Marci. Elvis watched as they headed to the rink, following Jerry and Steve.

As she walked towards the rink Marci’s looped her arm through hers and offered her a kind smile. It was a nice gesture and yet Addison couldn’t help but be annoyed. At everything. At being tricked into coming. At being avoided. At the fact that even when she was right in front of him he still refused to speak to her. Irked at his lack of response she found herself leaving Marci with Jerry so she could at least attempt to get some of that tension out of her body. It turned out that anger was actually good at keeping her moving and the fact she had to focus on what she was doing was a good distraction and once she had warmed up she even found herself having fun. Whilst Marci struggled to get to grips with the skating, using Jerry as more of an anchor than a boyfriend, Addison decided to spend some time with Steve before she fell into the wider games being played on the rink. After a while, she had mostly put Elvis out of her mind which was good because he had spent most of the time out of her way.

He had been watching her though. He couldn’t help himself. She seemed to be having a good time, which he was grateful for, but as she skated with Steve or raced Sonny he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit dejected she wasn’t with him. He was by the side of the rink, taking a break and a sip of soda when she skated past, giggling as Sonny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her off the ground.

‘Get off me!’ Addison giggled. ‘Not until you admit I won,’ Sonny chuckled. ‘Not a chance,’ she said though a squeal followed it as he dropped her, her legs rolling in between his as she had become unaccustomed to the floor. She didn’t fall though as he had full control over her and pulled her upright, still not letting go as she protested. ‘Son stop it!’ she said as he spun her round to face him. ‘Did I win?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Nope,’ she said, though her face changed as he went to lift her up again, ‘okay fine! But not on skill. It’s cos ya got those big ol’ man feet propelling ya down the rink.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night sweetheart,’ Sonny chuckled, letting her go but following her as she skated towards her friends who were close by watching their little debacle with mirth.

Elvis however was not enjoying the show quite as much. Without a second thought, he threw his soda in the trash and headed back onto the rink, his friends that had come for a rest with him following quickly behind. As he reached the middle of the rink a new game popped into his head and he gestured for everyone to come close which people did sensing that a change of play was in the air until finally he was almost encircled by the entire group.

‘Ya good EP?’ Red asked. ‘Yeah, just thinkin’ tonight’s a little boring,’ he said, ‘I was thinking of switching it up a touch.’ ‘Do you wanna play crack the whip?’ Marty asked. ‘Nah, I was thinking more all across,’ Elvis said earning a murmur of agreement from the guys. It was a good game though it could get a little brutal. Something like tag but rougher as the boys always took it too far, tackling and corralling their prospective targets to the ground. Clothes had been torn, bruises formed, scratches inflicted and play fights galore. Elvis needed it as he was full of anger and nerves that he needed to get out somehow.

‘What’s all across?’ Marci asked with a concerned look on her face. ‘Sorta like tag,’ Marty said. ‘One guy stands in the middle of the rink and we have to get across without getting caught. If you are, you join him for the next round until it’s everyone against the last standing,’ Red said. ‘Sounds dangerous,’ she said. ‘Yeah maybe you should sit this one out babe,’ Jerry said immediately going bright red at the term of endearment that earned a couple of sniggers from the guys. Marci however nodded and allowed Jerry to help her skate off to the side of the rink. A couple of the girlfriends also took the chance to disperse which made all eyes fall on Addison who stayed put, the only girl left in the circle. ‘What?’ she asked when she noticed everyone staring. ‘You’re playing?’ Sonny asked. ‘Am I not allowed?’ she challenged making his words catch in his throat as he tried to reply. ‘It’s a dangerous game Addie,’ Red said instinctively taking over on Sonny’s behalf. ‘I’m fine with that,’ she shrugged. ‘Addie,’ Elvis sighed. ‘What is it boys only?’ she asked heatedly, clenching her jaw. ‘I didn’t say that,’ he said irately. ‘Good. Let’s get started then huh?’ she said with a tight smile before she skated off to the bottom end of the rink. Elvis sighed and looked at Red but sensing there was no point in arguing he just said, ‘start us off man.’

Red nodded and took his spot in the middle of the rink whilst the others skated to join Addison. Though as they lined up beside her she got a little concerned. They were huge compared to her and they had glee in their eyes at the idea of a tussle. She would be crushed if she got on the wrong side of them but she had to save face. If Elvis wanted to push her out she wasn’t going to let him without a fight or an explanation as to why. She couldn’t back out now. Fortunately, the first few rounds went smoothly. She got across the rink at breakneck speed as being smaller than the boys gave her an edge of being fast. It also helped that the boys were determined to take each other out meaning she was slightly overlooked until finally, it was just Elvis and Addison left standing by the edge of the rink.

‘You know you can back out now if you want,’ Elvis said with a smirk that Addison assumed was meant to be banter but she couldn’t warm to it. In fact, it irked her that he had the audacity to ignore her and then joke around like nothing had happened. She didn’t say anything but turned to look up the rink where the boys were discussing tactics for the next round. Elvis’ smile faded as Red called for their attention. By now the boys were spread out across the rink, leaving little room for either of them to be able to get through but Addison was determined. As Red shouted go she took off, heading for the outside as the boys headed towards Elvis. He was tall and slim making him quite agile on his skates as he dodged out of the way of most of them but Red was too fast and determined and soon enough his arms had wrapped around Elvis’ waist, dragging him off balance to the floor. Addison heard the clatter before she saw it and turned her head to make sure he was okay but as she turned back Alan was in front of her barging into her shoulder first and knocking her off balance and onto the floor where her head collided with the waxed wood with a thud.

Pain flowed through her as her head bounced off the floor. She could practically feel her brain rattle around inside her head as she lay on the ground disorientated. The bright lights above her and the solid wooden floor underneath her were the only things she could feel for a moment but then there were shouts and sounds of people coming towards her making her come around. A wave of wooziness washed through her as she tried to push herself up into a sitting position though it was swiftly taken over by searing pain in her ankle. She didn’t have a chance to take it in though as Sonny came into view kneeling down beside her with concern in his brown eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ he said, and she nodded feeling dizzy as she moved her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ Alan said, looking down at her with worry in his eyes as everyone skated towards them, finally having noticed the tumble she’d taken. ‘It’s fine,’ she winced though the way her ankle was screaming at her suggested it might not be. Elvis appeared in a flash and shoved him hard almost making him tumble over due to his skates. ‘What the hell was that?’ Elvis spat as Alan cowered back. ‘I’m sorry EP-’ ‘Sorry?! You could’ve put her in the hospital!’ he snapped his fists still grabbing Alan’s lapels. He was trying to push the other man away but Elvis’ knuckles were white as they held him. ‘I really am sorry,’ Alan said. ‘It was an accident,’ Addison snapped, catching his attention and making his hands fall from Alan as he dropped to her side, his hands hovering over every inch of her. ‘Are you okay?’ he said. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, pulling out of his grip as she tried to push herself up. ‘You could’ve been really hurt,’ he said worriedly. ‘Oh so you care all of a sudden?’ she snapped, making his eyes widen as guilt coursed through him. Her mouth clamped shut afterwards trying to keep any other words inside as she felt hushed whispers run around the room at her words. ‘Ads,’ murmured quietly but she turned away and looked towards Sonny. ‘Help me up?’ she asked. Sonny looked nervously at Elvis before he stood up to do as he was told and wrapped his arm around her waist so he could pull her up. Once she was tucked into his side, one ankle hanging limply between them as she supported herself by clinging tightly to Sonny, Elvis stood too. Everyone was watching them and for a moment he wished he could feel awkward about their tiff being so public but he didn’t care.

‘You got her?’ Red said, making Sonny nod. Elvis said nothing as she clung to him and watched Sonny assist her to the side of the rink, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Addison didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She feared a week’s worth of anger would come spilling out of her if she did and that wasn’t what she wanted, not in front of so many people. Sonny manoeuvred her off the rink and onto a bench mumbling something about getting some ice as she adjusted herself. She could feel a large lump forming on her head which hurt as she ran her fingers over it though it wasn’t as bad as the pain in her ankle. She placed her leg up on the bench and worked her skate off, wincing as it dropped to the floor revealing her now swollen and red ankle to the air.

‘I mean us guys have had some war wounds in our time but that’s quite something,’ Sonny said as he reappeared at the back of the bench, handing her a bundle of ice before he moved around to sit down beside her, placing her ankle on his thigh. ‘What can I say I’m competitive,’ she sighed. ‘Yeah, I can see,’ he said, taking the ice off her and placing it on her ankle causing her to wince, ‘how’re you holding up?’ ‘I’m fine,’ she said though Sonny raised an eyebrow making her sigh, ‘hey, at least it got him to speak to me.’ ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Sorry you probably don’t wanna hear about this stuff,’ she said, feeling her cheeks flame. She didn’t know what it was. After all, it had taken her a long time to admit her feelings to herself so talking about them so openly felt odd somehow but she felt more at ease with Sonny than with the others.

‘Nah it’s okay. I mean I figured something had gone down-’ ‘Why?’ she asked quickly, her brows knitting together. Sonny glanced around checking none of his friends were in earshot and then said, 'well last weekend…I was kinda thinking about asking you out.’ ‘What?’ she asked, a blush creeping onto her face. ‘Yeah and then I saw the pair of you and I figured I better not.’ ‘Am I that obvious?’ she groaned, flopping her head back against the bench as she felt embarrassment flood through her. ‘It wasn’t you I was talking about,’ Sonny said, glancing towards the rink. Addison scoffed, ‘what you don’t believe he does?’ ‘I want to,’ she said sadly, ‘but then he just abandons me for a week straight. I mean poor Marci’s probably had her head sent west with all my worrying.’ ‘He ain’t exactly been a bed of roses to deal with this week either,’ Sonny said, ‘I mean Red said he thought there was something up but he ain’t telling us. I thought you’d rejected him though that might have been wishful thinkin’.’ ‘Son,’ she said bashfully. ‘Hey can’t blame a guy for trying,’ he said placing his hand on her knee, ‘anyway it’s not as if I can complain. It’s not like I had a chance, is it?’ ‘No,’ she said sadly, ‘I guess not…not that there’s much point. He doesn’t even wanna be around me.’ ‘It isn’t because he doesn’t feel the same. I know it,’ Sonny said earnestly, ‘I think the pair of you just need to talk it out.’ ‘I can’t even get near him Son,’ she said, ‘he’s been dodging me for days. It took having my head almost knocked off for him to say two words to me.’ ‘Maybe I should take ya outside. We can run into traffic it might make him come around,’ Sonny chuckled making her smile. ‘You sound like Marci,’ she giggled. ‘Oh yeah lemme guess the new love birds are experts on all matters of the heart now?’ he said looking over to where Marci and Jerry stood on either side of the barrier making out passionately. ‘They know everything now don’t you know,’ she chuckled.

‘So come on what’s her hot take on it?’ Sonny asked looking back at Addison. 'That I need to show him what he’s missing,’ she chuckled, 'make him jealous.’ 'Maybe she’s right,’ Sonny said with a flirtatious smile as he added, 'hey, I ain’t doing anything.’ 'Son,’ she groaned. ‘Oh come on,’ he said, ‘I get a pretty date and you get to make him jealous. Win-win.’ ‘Except I’d be using you,’ she said, ‘not exactly fair, is it?’ ‘It is if I go into it eyes wide open,’ he countered but Addison rolled her eyes, ‘nah I’m kidding. I mean if ya wanna I will.’ ‘I just wouldn’t feel happy using you like that,’ she said placing her hand on his toned bicep. He glanced at it and then nodded, taking it off his arm and kissing her fingers gently. ‘Like I said I never stood a chance,’ he said with a sad smile. Addison said nothing, she didn’t know what to say in this situation but thankfully he didn’t seem to take it too badly. He made an excuse after that about getting some more sodas and pushed her leg gently off his thigh before heading towards the refreshment stand leaving her sitting alone on the bench which she placed her head against with a sigh, not knowing that there was another broken-hearted boy watching her just across the rink.

✵✵✵

The following morning when Addison awoke she was uncomfortable. Her head was throbbing and her ankle felt heavy and swollen but even without the physical pain, she wasn’t doing too well in any other aspect. She was a mess. She was a mixture of anger and sadness. She longed to know what was going on with Elvis and her but she also wanted to scream at him, to tell him she was over being messed around and that she would be okay on her own. Though she knew that wasn’t true. Everyone else in her life had left her and yet the thought of losing him nearly incapacitated her. She had spent too much time denying it that as she awoke on that Sunday morning it was blatantly obvious. She was in love with him.

With a sigh she pushed herself up and climbed out of bed, wincing as her foot hit the ground making her ankle throb. As she padded through to the kitchen she found Dodger sitting eating breakfast and chatting with Mary. She greeted them both and then headed to the cupboard to make herself some cereal. As she poured her Cheerios into the bowl she heard her name called.

‘Huh?’ she said turning around to find both women watching her evidently having included her in a conversation she had been paying no attention to. ‘I said it looks like you found something more violent than church bingo huh?’ Dodger said as she gestured to her ankle which had turned a nasty shade of purple. ‘Oh yeah,’ she said, coming to take a seat at the table. ‘Elvis said you took a tumble,’ Mary said, ‘wanted me to check on you this morning at stupid o’clock.’ ‘He did?’ Addison said, looking at Mary who nodded. 'Yeah, I told him if you’d hurt yourself you’d need all the rest you could get,’ Mary said. Addison nodded and dropped her gaze to her bowl, feeling a little soothed at his request. They had come back separately last night. Since she had become incapacitated Sonny had borrowed the Lincoln dropping her, Steve, Marci, and Jerry off on his way home. Elvis had stayed at the rink. ‘Were those boys being too rough again?’ Dodger said, shaking her head, ‘you should’ve left them to it, they don’t know how to take it easy.’ ‘I’m fine,’ Addison said. ‘Well, you should spend the day recovering anyhow. Make sure you’re okay to be up on that ankle,’ Dodger said, placing her hand on the back of Addison’s. ‘I don’t see how that’s an option,’ Mary said, making Addison look at her as she continued explaining, ‘Mrs Presley asked if you could pop into town and run some errands. I would but I heard they’re playing football in the park today which means I’m not gonna be able to leave this kitchen any time soon.’ ‘It’s fine,’ Addison said though she felt a little dejected that even after last night she was still being excluded. ‘Don’t be overdoing it now though,’ Dodger said. ‘I won’t,’ Addison said, cramming down a few scoops of her breakfast before she moved to wash up her bowl, not feeling very hungry all of a sudden as she excused herself back to her room.

As she showered and dressed she tried to think of anything other than the past couple of days. It was getting her nowhere. She had tried action and that had failed. She had tried being sad about it and it only made her feel worse. She had tried getting angry and that hadn’t proved successful either. The only other option was to go to the extreme Marci suggested but at the moment she wasn’t feeling that either. So instead, she got herself ready, grabbed the list of errands for her to run off the kitchen counter and headed out into Memphis to try and distract herself. Fortunately, Gladys was quite good at distracting her. Her day started off at the dry cleaners for a mass pick up of what seemed to be Elvis’ entire wardrobe. Following that she had to go to the store to collect the monthly order of sodas for the basement which she managed to talk the boss’s son into lugging to her car for her given the state of her ankle. Finally, her outing was rounded off by a quick visit to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for Gladys. By the time she got back, the Cadillac she had borrowed was piled high with items which she didn’t have the energy to haul into the house. Luckily, Gladys was in a good mood once she was presented with her bag from the pharmacy and told not to worry about stocking the basement as she would get one of the boys to do it later and that all she needed to do was put Elvis’ dry cleaning in his closet. Which is how Addison came to be standing at the bottom of the stairs with it in hand. She had done so well not thinking about her feelings that now she was flooded with nothing but thoughts of him.

‘Just do it you coward,’ her mind whispered before it reminded her, ‘he’s not even home.’

Her brain was right. All she had to do was go upstairs and slot his clothes into his closet like she had done a hundred times before. And it wasn’t as though he was going to see her after all he was out at the park. So, she headed upstairs to his room and pushed the door open gently. It swung open revealing a darkened room to her. She didn’t bother turning on the light as the low winter sun outside was enough to light her path to his closet. She pulled the door open and ripped the protective plastic off of his neatly pressed suits before slotting them onto the rail, shutting the door and tossing the wrapper in his trash can. As she turned to leave however the bathroom door slid open and Elvis came walking out his face becoming surprised when he spotted her there.

‘Oh,’ he said dolefully, making an ache wrench in Addison’s gut, ‘I thought it was Red.’ ‘Nope just me,’ she said tersely as the ache turned to anger as it had done last night. She strutted towards the door with rage bubbling inside her. She needed to get out of there. Elvis watched her go with anguish. This should be what he wanted. It was better when she was angry at him because it made her want to keep her distance which was what he was aiming for, but it hurt like hell, and as her hand hit the door handle he couldn’t help himself from speaking, stopping her in her tracks.

‘How are you?’ he asked, making her whip around with a look of disbelief on her face. Fearing he was going to get both barrels he continued quickly, ‘I mean that was a pretty nasty fall you took last night.’ ‘I’m fine,’ she said curtly, though he could tell she had softened if only a little. ‘You could’ve been really hurt,’ he said. It was true. When he’d seen her limp on the floor he’d been flooded with terror and then anger at Alan for being so careless. He’d only calmed when she’d had the energy to snap at him. It wasn’t ideal but if she was well enough to bite his head off it meant she wasn’t on death’s door. ‘Yeah well like I said I’m fine,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to worry about me.’ ‘I always worry about you. I’m glad you’re okay,’ he said. Addison fought the urge to bite back like she wanted to. She wanted to scream at him that his actions didn’t support that idea…but she couldn’t. There was no point. Sadness had gotten her nowhere and anger hadn’t done anything either. Which is why her words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

‘Lucky I Sonny there to help huh?’ she said, making his gaze fall on her. It was a last-ditch attempt at getting some reaction from him and she watched as his jaw clenched for a split second before he turned his face neutral. ‘Yeah he’s a real sweetheart,’ he said sarcastically, turning away and walking towards his dresser, keeping his eyes off her. Addison couldn’t stop herself. ‘Yeah he is… in fact he asked me out,’ she said. That caught his attention but he didn’t turn around. ‘He did?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘What did you say?’ he asked though he didn’t know if he wanted to hear her response. ‘I said I’d think about it,’ she said. He turned back towards her and found her watching him closely, ‘I mean I didn’t exactly know what the rules were.’ ‘Rules?’ Elvis asked. ‘I mean the whole fraternizing thing,’ she said, ‘you don’t have a problem with that right?’ ‘Sonny’s a good guy. You could do worse,’ Elvis said. He knew it wasn’t a proper answer but it was the best he could give. ‘Yeah, he is,’ she said curtly, ‘s’pose I better put him out of his misery then huh?’ ‘S’pose,’ he murmured, turning back so he was looking at himself in the dresser mirror. He waited for a response but none came and when he looked back he found she was gone, the door left open in her wake. Elvis sighed and flopped down on his bed. He had to give himself credit. When he put his mind to something he was good at it. Not only had he managed to keep her at arm’s length he’d also managed to push her into the arms of another man.

✵✵✵

Addison didn’t know what she was doing. In fact, she hadn’t known what she was doing since this afternoon. The whole day seemed to be chalked full of stupid decisions leading her to be standing at the side of the road looking under the hood of the Cadillac as if it was going to fix itself the longer she stared at it. After Elvis and her had shared a terse word she had locked herself in her room more confused than ever. She had baited him with Sonny and it had backfired which worried her even more. Maybe she had been right all along. Maybe he didn’t like her and he was just too chicken to tell her to her face.

So, in order not to seem like a pathetic loser she had gone through the motions of prepping for a date. She hadn’t asked Sonny to go out with her, her feelings about leading him on not having changed, but she had put on her nicest dress and done her makeup as if that was the case. When she had emerged from her room Gladys had raised an eyebrow at her attire and asked her if she was staying in for dinner which Addison had responded to with a wishy-washy response of having plans. She didn’t specify what they were and instead grabbed the keys to the Caddy and headed out the door.

She’d driven around for a while, grabbing a bite to eat before heading back into the cold bitter wind of the night until she was forced to pull over by the side of the road as the hood of the car started smoking. It died down quickly, but she popped the hood anyway trying to see if there was any obvious fault she could fix by herself given that she was quite far from home and the prospect of walking there on her still very tender ankle was not very appealing. Unfortunately there hadn’t been anything she could do and so begrudgingly she walked to the nearest phone box and called the house. Thankfully it was Vernon who answered and when she asked if he could get one of the boys to come and pick her up he’d agreed. She was resting on the hood of the car when the dorado pulled up in front of her and she headed to the passenger side and opened the door to climb in but before she did she noticed who was sitting in the front seat. Elvis.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, feeling embarrassment flood through her. ‘Funny way to thank someone for a ride,’ he said quickly, making her embarrassment turn to irritation. ‘I asked your daddy to ask one of the boys,’ she said. ‘And he asked me,’ Elvis said, ‘now are you gonna stand there all night or are you gonna get in?’

Addison looked at him. His blue eyes were watching her closely and though he was dressed simply, in just a pair of slacks and a jumper, he looked gorgeous. Maddeningly so. Feeling she had no other choice she climbed inside and folded her arms across her chest looking out the window as Elvis started the car. They drove in silence for a couple of minutes with Elvis glancing at her often wondering what to say. Eventually, it was too much to bear and he pulled off down a side street and parked, cutting the engine which forced her to look at him. He sighed and tilted himself in his seat.

‘So are you gonna tell me what happened or not?’ he asked. ‘The car broke down,’ she shrugged. ‘I meant why were you out on your own at night? And don’t give me any cock and bull story about some date cause if you were out with Sonny he would never have you out on the streets of Memphis alone,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t with Sonny,’ she said. ‘Then where were you?’ he asked, making her snort, ‘what?’ ‘Nothing,’ she said bitterly, fiddling with a piece of lint on her sleeve. Elvis clenched his jaw feeling himself being baited into an argument but he couldn’t stop himself from responding. ‘No come on,’ he said cockily, ‘share with the class.’ ‘I just think it’s funny how you disappear on me for a week but I’m just expected to tell you every little thing I do? Bit rich don’t you think?’ ‘Addie,’ he said but she stopped him. She turned to face him, her face thunderous as she said, ‘no. You know what no. You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to ignore me for a whole damn week and then come back and expect me to fall into line. I’ve had enough of that for a goddamn lifetime.’

Elvis stayed silent throughout taking the hits as they came, unable to cope with how heartbroken he felt at the anguish on her face, ‘I thought you were someone who wouldn’t mess me around. The only person in my whole life who I could rely on and you’re still acting the same as everyone else.’ ‘I have my reasons,’ he said trying to defend himself but she rolled her eyes. ‘But they don’t mean anything if you won’t tell me what they are! Don’t you see that?’ she asked incredulously, ‘hell my mother had reasons.’ ‘I am not Mona,’ he scoffed. ‘Well you’re not acting any better,’ she challenged, ‘I mean if anything it’s worse. At least I didn’t feel-’

Addison fell silent, her mouth snapping shut as she looked away from him with a scowl. Elvis felt a curious smile appear on his face.

‘Feel what?’ he asked quietly. Her hazel eyes fell on him for a moment wide and anxious as she contemplated what she would say. ‘Are you really going to make me say it?’ she asked, Elvis said nothing but he continued to look at her expectantly making her sigh, ‘fine. I don’t care about my mom messing me around because I don’t love her. Not the way I love you and after last weekend I thought you actually felt the same but I guess I was wrong.’ ‘You’re not wrong,’ he said, ‘not at all.’ ‘Then why push me away?’ she asked. ‘Because it’s not as simple as that Addie,’ he sighed, ‘I’m trying to protect you.’ ‘I don’t need protecting,’ she protested, a little shriller than she intended to sound. ‘I know you don’t think that,’ he said, 'but I have to try. Dating me isn’t easy. Believe me, I know. You’re young. You’ve been through enough and I don’t want to add any more to it. Touring, fans, the press it’s a lot to handle.’ ‘Don’t I get a say in what I can handle?’ she said looking at him. Elvis wavered for a moment as she moved towards him, her hand resting gently on his cheek for just a second.

‘Addie,’ he said, his blue eyes full of sadness. ‘If you don’t want this then fine. I can deal with that and I’ll get over it, but if you’re holding back just because you think I can’t cope then I refuse to let you. I’m strong Elvis. Stronger than most.’ ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ he asked. ‘So why not give us a chance?’ she asked earnestly. ‘I want to. You don’t know how much I want to. Ever since I saw you at that goddamn fair all I could think about was you. I love you Addison, but I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.’ ‘But you’re already hurting me! Don’t you see that? I’m not saying it’ll be perfect; I mean when has anything in my life ever been,’ she said with a wry smile that made him smirk softly, ‘but don’t you wanna find out? I mean what if it is? What if-’

And then she couldn’t speak because Elvis’ lips were on hers. She was stunned for a moment before she melted into it, allowing him to kiss her deeply and pull her onto his lap. When they finally broke apart they were breathless but smiley. Elvis placed his forehead against hers as her fingers fiddled with the neckline of his sweater. Neither of them spoke for a moment, too wrapped up in each other.

‘You were right,’ Elvis said eventually. ‘Huh?’ she replied still lost in the moment to catch her train of thought. ‘That was pretty damn perfect,’ he said with a smile as she pulled back. ‘Worth the wait?’ she asked with a giggle. It was hard for her to believe her day had been chalked full of heartache when at that moment she felt as though she could burst with happiness. ‘Wish we’d been doing it a whole lot longer,’ he said earnestly. Addison giggled but then her face fell a little as she felt worry creeping in, Elvis frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he asked, ‘what?’ ‘You’re saying yes right?’ she said, ‘I mean this, us, you’re giving it a chance.’ ‘You couldn’t tell by that?’ he joked, ‘are my kissing skills that rusty?’ ‘Elvis,’ she chastised, smacking him gently on his chest though as her hand bounced back he grabbed it and placed it to his lips, kissing it gently. ‘Yes Addie I’m giving us a chance,’ he said, making her smile, ‘besides I don’t think I have a choice now.’ ‘Why?’ she asked, confused. ‘Because I know what I’d be missing,’ he smiled and then he leaned up once more to kiss her.

#my writing #elvis #the girl he left behind #elvis presley #Elvis Presley Fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut

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mystxmomo · 2 years

Note

Re: the importance of Dave getting to be brothers with Dirk

I see a lot of fics dig into the Angst Factor of trying to befriend/be family with a living reminder of the guy who made your childhood hell, and the unease Dave would experience anytime Dirk displayed any characteristics that were similar to Bro. And like, that perspective does definitely make sense, but I also think there’s an additional layer where getting to see Dirk’s similarities to Bro is actually healing in a way?

Because Dirk is so deeply ridiculous and uncool, and I think having some of Bro’s traits reframed in that context would really help chip away at any of Dave’s lingering childhood idolization of him—without having to turn to flat-out demonizing a guy who, as you mentioned, Dave absolutely at his core can’t actually hate as much as he thinks he should.

And as much as he might have unpacked it on the meteor, “Bro is cool” was one of the foundational axioms for most of Dave’s life, and some honest to god evidence to the contrary would be a thing to behold. Like, Dirk takes his gloves off, and Dave gets to realize that Bro must have had those stupid looking tan lines too.

Dave, watching Dirk (who has only had three hours of sleep in the last week) accidentally soldering his own hand because he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing and only react with the soft, dissociative: "... Oh. Cool.": "Jesus Fucking Christ."

Dave, watching Dirk jump up with a sword because Karkat yelled a bit too loudly from the other room and he got startled so his reaction was "okay sword": "Jesus fucking Christ."

Dave watching Dirk 404 in the grocery store because the dude forgot his orange juice and just realized it and is looking down at his cart like it was the reason he forgot his orange juice, and for it's carnal sin of messing with his plans it must melt in place: "Alright. Dude come on now."

Yeah no you're absolutely right. Dirk Strider is like a hotspot of neurosis, with a head so messy it makes the goddamn DSM look like a check list. He's such a ridiculous fucking person it's unreal.

Here's something contriversal, and perhaps even brave I'll bring up. Apologies ahead of time I have a lot of thoughts on the complexities of how abuse is handled in fiction so you're getting me in my zone.

Even in au's where there's only bro. No Dirk, no game, Dave grew up in Bro's care and has to come to terms with the circumstances of his home life? He needs to come to terms with the fact that Bro is, just, absolutely fucking ridiculous. Just, as a person. Who likes puppets that much? Bro works in the puppet porn sex industry. He centered the entirety of his abuse around the movie Saw and left deranged muppet babies comics around the house for Dave to find. Dave needs to, in any reality, have that moment where he realizes that bro isn't this larger than life hero, and he isn't the be all end all of evil. He's just a horribly fucked up person who did horrible things. Because the grandiose is harder to come to terms with then the humane.

Another mistake I think a lot of people make when writing for abuse, with as tempting as it is to do if you haven't experienced it yourself, is make it so that literally every experience Dave had with Bro is bad. Familial abuse is ridiculously fucking complex like that, and would just add to the mixed feelings Dave would have about bro. We know bro canonically kept up with Dave's comics, and taught him how to work turntables. I think it's absolutely crucial when writing for the Strider brothers to give those moments in there, and not taint them with some looming dread. Having these moments doesn't negate the fact that abuse happened, and only adds to the complexity of the situation.

I think the final thing I'll add is?? I think, bro did genuinely care about Dave. Perhaps even love him. And I don't think there's a catch to that. I think that love and abuse are not mutually exclusive. People, parents especially, can and do often hurt the ones they love in an attempt to "better" them. There's an argument to be had about whether or not that they actually love you, or the idea of you, but it's love nonetheless. And I think THAT would fuck Dave up. Because I think, despite (and perhaps even because of) the way he was raised, his idea of love ends up being incredibly gentle. He's such.. a natural pacifist, who cares so strongly. The fact that someone can love, and hurt the ones they love, would fuck with him. Let alone the fact that it happened to him.

#dave strider #bro strider #homestuck #abuse #uhhh yeah writing for complex relationships is my forte i dont think if ive ever mentioned that to the homestucks but i have many thoughts

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wisteriannotes · 2 years

Text

October 27, 2022

I've been having a hard time navigating my life when I'm alone at home with nothing to do, nothing to look forward to, and no one to have a conversation with. Don't get me wrong — I love being alone but these days, the mundane flow of life has been quite exhausting. Real funny because just a week ago, I was looking forward to uni break since that's the only time I get to catch up on reading and watching movies. Still, I find myself wishing that I had something else to do, a reason to get up every morning even though I despise uni work whenever they pile up. Isn't that weird?

Maybe... I'm just lonely. I found a quote today that has been on my mind ever since I've read it. I can't stop thinking about it. It goes something like, "If a relationship doesn't reciprocate the same energy that you pour into it, then it's time to get out of that relationship." I always find myself giving too much of myself when it comes to people, whether it be friendships or relationships. It's not my friends' or partner's fault, I know, because sometimes you just have to keep a part of you to yourself. I can't help it, though. I think I care too much for them because I refuse to do the same for myself. I don't know. I always feel bad whenever I feel like they don't give the same energy that I give them, because I want to be loved like how I give love. Does that make any sense? I know it's my fault for wearing my heart on my sleeve, but can you blame me? Maybe I should just love myself like how I love them but I don't know how. It's so sad. I hope I don't go to another dating app again because I need someone to talk to. They're a complete waste of time, and it's not like I end up caring about somebody I met on the internet anyway.

My head is constantly aching from sleeping too much. When I tend to overthink while reading or listening to music, or when I find myself going to social media and scrolling for hours to kill time, I'd usually turn my phone off and try to sleep. That way, I won't have to pity myself for not having a life that I'm yearning to have. It's honestly so depressing now that I think about it. Every single one of my friends have a life to look forward to, like the chapter where I belong is nearing to an end, but I'm still stuck on the page waiting for them to come back. The truth is, I'm very jealous of the life they're leading. I don't know if I should've said that because jealousy is bad, much more when it's directed towards the people you care about. But I really am jealous, and I don't know what to do about it. The right thing to do is probably something like, Get up! Change your life for the better! Yet I don't have the motivation to do something about all of these. How can I change?

Maybe I'm filled up with trauma and guilt. That's a huge statement to make, a lot to unpack. My hand's aching so this is where it ends, I think.

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sweetnightmattresses · 2 years

Text

A new mattress suitable for a boy living alone to buy

Preface

Because I moved to a new home has been living for several years, the mattress is almost time to change, so take advantage of this time period to say goodbye to the old and welcome the new year, to the master bedroom for a new mattress, I hope to harvest a better sleep and plus healthy body in 2022. This is the first original content in 2022, hope to get your support, here thanks! In addition, the network has feedback, the previous pair of plaid shorts seems to have been welded to my legs, so today replaced a pair of plaid pants.

Reasons for buying

1, as mentioned, the master bedroom mattress for a long time, change a new one, for their health, but also to experience a more comfortable sleep environment. I think the investment in sleep is worth it.

2, the price is more friendly. Now go to the physical store to see the price of mattresses, really high some outrageous ha.

Appearance show

This SweetNight Dreamy Hybrid Mattress is compressed packaging, packed in a box, so the benefit is easy to enter the home, because some owners do not have elevators at home, or elevators are narrow, the whole sheet is very inconvenient to carry, after loading into the box, transport and installation are much more convenient. Of course, if unfolded after moving then still encounter the same difficulties.

Still love me 8 hours a day advocacy language, here also want to say to the majority of value friends, regular work and rest, sleep well! Must sleep enough 8 hours ah!

This kind of volume compressed packaging, I think the courier company is also pleased to see it, saving space also saves manpower. There is also the fact that if the home is not well decorated, this buy back does not occupy an area.

Mattress with this extended elastic band fixed very well, pulled out from the box is also very good force, two people lifting the mattress is also very convenient to install. I unpacked the mattress by myself, and mainly relied on this elastic band to pull it out.

There is a small gift bag inside the package, which should be instructions or something.

Presented with a SweetNight Dreamy Hybrid Mattress around the plastic shopping bag, the material is still quite good, go out and buy food to load things or can, the most popular Klein blue, carry it on the street, you are the most fashionable boy. Recycling, more environmentally friendly!

Presented with SweetNight brand exclusive safety bag opener, no knife blade, and do not worry about hurting your hands.

Because I opened the box alone, genuinely have some wretched, the picture is disastrous, there is no show to everyone, the official four-step restoration of the big mattress show to everyone.

This is what it looks like after unfolding. The main tone of my bedroom at home is gray, this mattress placed here at once to liven up the color scheme. The pure, deep blue color is very eye-catching.

When the mattress is fully expanded, it is very wide and flat.

The mattress is designed with curved rounded corners to cushion the impact and avoid children from touching their heads and adults from spraying their knees.

The side of the SweetNight Smurf embroidered words are very eye-catching.

Because the mattress has three wire diameter 9 partitions of independent support module, according to the human body structure and the different sleeping positions of gravity sensing, to provide the required support.

So the front of the mattress and head placement have special tips.

The bottom of the bed has this hidden zipper, so that the mattress outside the mattress cover can be easily disassembled and then directly cleaned.

The bottom of the mattress with 3D anti-slip point plastic cloth, can increase the friction, so that the mattress is not easy to shift.

The best Mattress for Side Sleepers jacket is made of 500g high-density knitted plant fiber fabric + AAA Polygiene antibacterial material, is a professional anionic antibacterial agent from Sweden, the fabric can be cleaned for a long time, fresh and odorless.

You can see that after removing the mattress jacket, there is an inner sleeve. The inner sleeve is made of four corner mesh breathable material, micron-level anti-mite, removable and easy to clean.

The top is Air non-sensory memory foam, lying on it has a slightly into the sense of wrapping, the surface hardness is less than 10F, less resistance to touch, and the opening rate can reach 96.6%, each turn can be excess heat and moisture exhaled. The lower black layer is Nano bamboo charcoal nano sponge, also using a microporous breathable structure, reducing the sense of stuffiness, so that the body can be kept in a cool sense of deep sleep, and can adsorb miscellaneous dust microflora, purifying the sleep environment.

Feelings

This mattress is a ripple horizontal pressure release, how to explain it, like raindrops falling to the surface of the water, the pressure layer by layer want to spread around, so lay flat when very comfortable and comfortable.

Side lying can obviously feel the support of the waist and neck, sleep a wake up will not feel very tired.

Because the mattress is partitioned, so the partner will not interfere with each other's rest when they get up.

This deep sinking feeling is really good. Be wrapped up and fall into a deeper sleep.

Summary

Advantages.

1, SweetNight Dreamy Hybrid Mattress color scheme is very eye-catching and good-looking.

2, the jacket inside the set are removable and washable, hygiene is guaranteed.

3, non-sensory memory foam is very comfortable.

4, the price is very affordable.

Disadvantages.

I have to say that the disadvantages, just opened when the smell is really a little big, but the official also prompted, ventilation placed 72 hours before use.

#Bedroom #home & lifestyle #family #mattress

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chaosmagicss · 2 years

Text

love in the dark (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: your plan is simple; get through your senior year and make it to college with minimal fuss. what you aren't expecting is the spanner in the works that is wanda maximoff and her stupidly kissable lips.

series warnings: high school au (everyone is 18), secret relationship, jealousy, allusions to and brief mentions of smut, fluff, angst

chapter warnings: first time (mostly), bottom!wanda, it’s getting angsty besties <3

words: 5.8k

a/n: this is a little late, sorry bout that - had a pretty tiring week and forgot to queue it lmfao. but alas.... aha... the beginning of the end... :D

part one | part two | part four | part five

Ding.

You groan at the interrupting, burying your face against the pillow in an attempt to hide from the light coming in from the window.

Ding.

You huff, reaching blindly towards your bedside table in search of your phone. It goes off again before you can find it, and you squint against the brightness of the screen as you read the notifications.

I’m sorry for last night

I was a mess

You rub your eyes, sitting up in bed and scooting until your back finds the headboard.

it’s alright, don’t apologise

how are you feeling?

Hungover. Head hurts like crazy

There’s a few seconds of a typing bubble, and then…

Wish you were here to kiss it better :(

You huff a laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up for no real reason.

smooth.

I know I am ;)

You roll your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics, that dopey grin still on your face.

let me know if you need anything, ok?

Wanda sends a heart emoji back, and you sigh softly, dropping your phone beside you and climbing out of bed, heading towards the shower. Some twenty minutes later, you make your way downstairs for breakfast - or, well, lunch, really. You aren’t expecting to find Iryna Maximoff unpacking the dishwasher, and it takes you a moment to unscramble your sleepy brain.

“Morning, love. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You blink, shaking your head. “No,” you say. “You didn't. I - I didn’t know you were… isn’t it your day off?”

The woman smiles almost sheepishly. “Technically, yes. But your mother mentioned she was doing a double shift – I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Especially because you dropped my kids home last night.”

You swallow thickly, reaching for the fruit bowl if only to make sure Iryna doesn’t catch your cheeks flushing in that way they always do whenever she mentions Wanda. “Oh, that’s okay. It’s not like I was gonna let ‘em walk home at that hour.”

“Still,” Iryna says gently. “I need to find some way to thank you.”

You smile, hopping up onto the counter. “You could thank me by actually taking your day off,” you say cheekily, and Iryna clicks her tongue, shooting you a look as she closes the now-empty dishwasher. “Really, Mrs Maximoff. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve got something for dinner?”

A nod. “There’s stuff for pasta in the fridge. Or I can order takeout.”

She twists her lips, then sighs a little. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you have any problems?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiles again. “Alright, then. I’ll leave you to it. See you Tuesday.”

“Bye.”

The front door clicks shut, and you let out a relieved breath. The tightness in your chest doesn’t quite alleviate, and you recognise the feeling as guilt. Lying sucks. Especially to someone as kind and sweet as Iryna is. Even if you might not be so fond of her readiness to send her daughter halfway across the globe, you have a deep respect for her; for any of her flaws, Iryna Maximoff’s heart is with her children, her sole focus on ensuring they have a good future. You can’t fault her for that.

All that respect for the woman doesn’t help with the guilt that lying to her makes you feel. Sometimes, you think about how it would be if she knew how you felt about her daughter; if things were different, maybe she would’ve welcomed you with open arms. Wanda already insists that she adores you, and the notion of it warms your chest. But recently, all that warmth finds itself overrun by the heavy feeling of shame, and you hate it.

For the millionth time, you wish things were different.

The next few days are uneventful. School, stealing moments with Wanda, home. School, Wanda, training, home. So on and so forth. Until Thursday, second period: biology.

When the teacher announces a project to be done in pairs, you immediately turn to Carol. Until, of course, she starts rattling off pairs almost at random. Carol mutters a damn it, banging her head into the table, and you laugh a little in amusement until, “Okay, Jarvis with Carol, Wanda with Y/N. Y/N and Jarvis swap seats.”

You don’t hear Carol’s tiny groan of disappointment over the eye contact you make with Wanda, both of you doing your best not to let your excitement show on your faces. You force your eyes away from her to start gathering your stuff, cautious not to look too desperate. You’re about to stand when Carol nudges you, and you shoot her a look before she points over to Wanda.

Or so you think.

Jarvis is leaning over, that ‘charming’ grin on his face. “Y/N, how about we swap partners?”

Your eyes flick to Wanda, her jaw tight, eyebrows cinched just enough that you can tell she’s disappointed. Your stomach twists uncomfortably when you realise that Jarvis probably thinks it’s because she’s not partnered with him. You swallow thickly, start to stammer through a response.

“I, um…”

“No swapping!” the teacher announces, a general response to the various frustrated grumbles across the room. You watch Wanda smother a smile, give Jarvis a tightlipped one of your own.

“Sorry, Jarvis,” you say, pushing to stand. You look over at Carol, drop your voice to a whisper. “Good luck.”

She cracks a grin, leaning on her first in faux excitement. “What ever do you mean, I’m absolutely thrilled!”

You huff a laugh and step past Jarvis as he moves towards your own desk, sitting down beside Wanda. Her attempt to smother her smile fails as you meet her eyes, and your whole chest warms in response. She clears her throat, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the grin on her face.

“Okay,” she chokes out, clearing her throat again. “What do you - we should probably get a start on this.”

“Okay,” you say softly, mostly to yourself.

By the end of the lesson, you’ve made casual plans to meet at Wanda’s house after school to keep working on the project, and it’s the only thing you can think about for the rest of the day. You’re zoning out of the conversation at lunch, your eyes glancing in Wanda’s direction every time her pretty laugh echoes across the room, and each time your eyes meet you have to look away just so you don’t blush in the middle of the cafeteria. You’re prodding pointlessly at your lunch with your fork when Carol kicks you in the shin, hard.

“Ow!” you say loudly, head whipping up and meeting Carol’s easy grin.

“Sorry,” she says, not sounding it, “you were on another planet.”

“Right, sorry,” you reply, pushing a hand back through your hair. “What were we talking about?”

Val catches your attention, so you miss the half-second glance Carol shoots in Wanda’s direction and the way her face twists together in thoughtfulness.

You knock on the door to the Maximoff residence at 7:03pm, and your heartbeat is pounding against your ribs uncomfortably fast for the 38 seconds it takes for the door to open. The smile drops from your face when you’re met with Pietro instead of Wanda, and you shift awkwardly on your feet as he watches you with an almost amused expression.

“Hi,” you say as he leans against the doorway.

“Hey,” he replies.

You clear your throat. “Um, is - is Wanda home?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by a loud, “Pietro, did you open the fucking door?”

He grins, looking a little caught, as Wanda appears beside him suddenly, roughly shoving at him to try and get him to move. He relents a few steps, enough for Wanda to step in his place and turn to smile at you.

“Hi, sorry,” she says, and then she reaches for your arm to tug you inside. The touch shoots shivers up your arm, makes your chest tight with panic at the audience. Sure, it’s just her brother, but still. Wanda turns to Pietro as she drags you further into the house, snapping at him in Sokovian. He fires right back at her, seemingly getting a kick out of pissing her off, and you can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips when you notice the frustrated flush making the tips of her ears red.

“Mudak!” Wanda says as you reach the top of the stairs, guiding you into her room. “Good-bye!”

You huff a laugh when she closes the door and lets out a sigh, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders.

“That was colourful,” you comment. Wanda shoots you a look. Or, at least, she tries to - her lips tick up into a smile. “What was that about?”

“He’s just - being annoying,” she says, waving a hand, and you smother a smile as you nod, putting your bag down on her bed. You pull out your laptop and all the other things you need for the assignment, but when you start to walk Wanda through your plan, turning to look at her, she pounces on you.

You hum in surprise against her mouth as she pushes at your shoulders to make you sit on the bed before sliding into your lap, kissing you in a way that’s thoroughly distracting.

“Mm,” you say against her lips, “Wanda, we gotta—” She sucks at your lip. “Baby, we really gotta do this assignment—”

“Let’s just do this all night,” she husks, mouth working hotly along your jaw. “Pietro’s going out. We’ve got the house to ourselves.”

Your huff of laughter turns into something closer to a soft moan when she nips at your earlobe. “Wanda.”

She leans back at your stern tone, pouting adorably. You grin at her, reaching up to press your thumb against her frown for a second.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say on a chuckle. The pout falters, lips curling up again despite her best efforts. “Y’know Miss Clarke hates late hand-ins. We won’t finish it if we don’t start now.”

She sucks her teeth, hands sliding around to the nape of your neck so she can fiddle with the baby hairs there. “We have tomorrow, and all weekend,” she frowns.

“No, we don’t. I have plans with Carol tomorrow night, and you’ve got that—”

“Dinner on Sunday,” she groans, leaning forward to bury her face in the crook of your neck. You hum, stroke a hand up and down her back, smiling when she sighs contently against you. She leans back after a second, pecking your cheek and then your lips. “Okay. Let’s get this stupid assignment done.”

You squeeze her waist, kissing her chastely.

“That’s my girl.”

For Wanda’s sake, you pretend not to notice the way her cheeks go pink.

Wanda works dutifully for three and a half hours. She gives up sometime around 10:30, and you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she lays on her tummy, chin propped up on her hands as she watches you where you sit at her desk.

“Baby?”

You hum distractedly, eyes focused on this last paragraph of the essay. Once you get this done, all that’s left is the conclusion. You vaguely hear the bed shift, and only a moment later, lithe arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, and she leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m bored.”

“We’re almost done, Wanda,” you reply, tipping your head back to look at her. She smiles down at you, kissing you chastely. You can practically hear her pout as you look back to the computer screen, rubbing at your sort of sore eyes. “Twenty more minutes, okay?”

“Just have a quick break,” Wanda says. “Let’s just go get some fresh air. Give your eyes a rest.”

And, okay, that does sound nice. Still, you know you should probably just crank it out and be done with it. As if Wanda can hear your thought process, she presses another kiss to your hair.

“Won’t be long, baby, I promise.”

You grumble softly, unable to deny her anything. “Okay,” you sigh, but you can’t help but grin when she squeals excitedly and tugs you to your feet, taking your hand as she leads you to the door.

“What about our shoes?” you ask.

“Don’t need ‘em,” she throws over her shoulder, and even if it’s a little odd, you choose to ignore it in favour of keeping her hand in yours. Wanda pulls you outside, her feet slowing as she leans into your side and walks you towards the pool, only stopping when you’re right at the edge. There are only a few leaves floating around in the otherwise clean pool, and you find yourself mesmerised by the movement of the water.

There’s only a month until prom, and then exams and then graduation and then college. There’s an unspoken uncertainty hanging between you and Wanda and just what your relationship is going to be like when you go off to college, or if there will even be one. There’s the off chance that you get into MIT and Wanda goes to New York instead of moving halfway around the world, and if that happens maybe you could go long-distance if the two of you stop hiding, but thinking about all the variables for too long makes you a little dizzy.

You don’t want to lose this, lose her. Even if it’s been hanging on by a thread since the day it started, you can’t help but think getting away from this town is going to be a sort of fresh start for the two of you. As naive and childish as it is, you can’t help but hope for it.

You can picture it so clearly - you both go to college only an hour’s flight away from each other, visit each other on the long weekends and the holidays and during the breaks, and then maybe you’ll move to New York and you’ll move into some shitty studio apartment and get a cat and make a space that’s yours.

But that life doesn’t involve Jarvis Stark or the plan that Wanda’s father has lain out so clearly or the secrecy and the hiding.

It’s unrealistic, and the smarter part of you knows that.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Wanda gently urges you to face her, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, baby?”

You manage a teasing smile. “All the work we still gotta do,” you reply. Wanda rolls her eyes, winds her arms around your neck, and leans in close enough that her lips brush against yours when she speaks.

“Anyone ever told you you’re an overachiever?”

You fake an affronted noise, leaning back to look at her properly. She grins cheekily up at you. “Says you, Miss Straight A’s.”

“I actually have a B+ in calculus,” she retorts, and you huff a laugh, leaning in close again.

“My little nerd,” you murmur, and Wanda giggles as you kiss her. It starts off soft and sweet, but when she bites down on your lip, you pull back and ignore her pout of protest, dropping a few kisses to her cheeks. “You’re too distracting for your own good, you know that?”

She just hums, and then her face pulls together in almost concern. “Are you hot? I’m feeling kind of hot.”

You frown. “No…?”

“No, I think you are.”

Your confusion only grows. “Is this some sort of innuendo I don’t get—?”

You’re cut off by your own yelp when Wanda shoves you into the pool. Suddenly, it makes plenty sense why she’d told you not to bother with your shoes. You’re just glad you don’t have your phone on you. You break the surface to find Wanda doubled over in laughter, and it’s hard to stay mad at her when she’s full-belly laughing.

“You asshole!” you laugh, holding on to the edge as she presses a hand to her tummy, trying to get ahold of herself. “Was this your plan the whole time?”

She giggles, nodding, and you shake your head in disbelief. Before you can pull yourself out of the water, however, she’s leaping in as well. You splash water at her when she comes to the surface, and she giggles relentlessly as she pushes forward until she can reach you, gripping onto your shoulders and wrapping her legs around your waist.

All your previous worries are thrown right out the window as you struggle to kiss her between your laughter, your hands low on her waist as you hold her in the water.

After you shiver ten minutes later, Wanda leads you back into the house and fetches two towels. She kisses your cheek once you’ve wrapped yourself up and murmurs about getting you into a set of dry clothes before grabbing your hand and tugging you into her bedroom. You wait patiently as she rummages through her wardrobe for clothes, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt once she’s found them.

You quickly change into the dry clothes as she searches for her own, and when Wanda turns to look at you as you’re tugging the shirt over her head, you catch her eyes lingering on your revealed skin before she snaps them up. She blushes intensely when you give her a knowing smirk, quickly looking away and turning to put her set of clothes on her bed.

“Are the - are the clothes okay?” she asks, her voice a little strained. You do your best to stop the smile from growing.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’d say goodbye to these sweatpants, if I were you. They’re quite comfortable.”

Wanda huffs, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at your comment. “Buy your own,” she shoots back, and you simply hum in response, caught on the way the bedside lamp is painting her face. It’s probably a silly thing to get rendered speechless by, but you can’t help it; Wanda is almost painfully beautiful.

Her hands freeze at the hem of her shirt when she realises you’re still watching her, and she clears her throat, raising her eyebrows pointedly when you meet her gaze.

“Oh, right, yeah.”

You turn around and close your eyes for good measure, doing your best to get the heavy beating of your heart back in control as the sound of Wanda pulling her shirt over her head finds you.

But then, “Y/N?”

Her voice is soft and shy, and has your heart fluttering.

“Yeah?”

There’s a long, heavy beat of silence. And then, “Turn around?”

With your heart still pounding solidly against your ribcage, you do so. Wanda exhales shakily as your eyes find her standing in her black lace bra, her shirt twisting anxiously between her fingers. You fight to keep your eyes on her face, but it proves difficult and you can feel your face warming.

Even in the low light in the room, you can see the faint blush taking over Wanda’s cheeks, too. With a deep breath, you step over to her, eyes on hers.

She bites into her lip as you reach her, one hand lifting to brush damp strands of hair away from her eyes and the other gingerly finding her waist. Her shirt flutters to the ground between your feet as her hands slide up onto your shoulders, and ever so slowly, you lean in.

Wanda gasps softly when your lips find hers, pressing delicately. It’s not your first kiss by any means, but there’s something different thrumming in the air around you, something much more intense. There’s a tension in your lower tummy, warmth pooling throughout your whole body, and the feel of Wanda’s soft skin beneath your fingertips is doing nothing to cool you down.

When you pull back for air, Wanda trails after you, curling a hand around the nape of your neck to tug you back in, kissing you with more certainty now. She steps towards the bed, licking at your bottom lip and dragging a groan out of you. Carefully, you guide her onto her back, settling between her legs and propping yourself up on your elbows.

Her breath catches when you meet her eyes, searching her face for any sign that she wants to stop. Long eyelashes flutter as a tiny smile curls up one corner of her mouth, her hand shifting so she can trace the line of your cheekbones, then over the bow of your lips.

She blushes when you kiss the pads of her fingertips. “Hi,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you murmur back. “You okay? You wanna keep going?”

She nods, licks her bottom lip. “I just… I’ve never done this before,” she admits shyly.

You swallow hard. “Neither,” you reply. “We… we’ll take it slow, okay?” She nods, pulls you down so that she can kiss you, slow and deep, and it makes your head spin. When you need to breathe, you trail your kisses along her jaw and down her throat, and Wanda gasps when you nip at her pulse point.

Her hands tug at your shirt. “Off?” she asks in a murmur. “Wanna feel you.”

You push up onto your knees just long enough to do as much, your whole body lighting up when Wanda hooks her legs over your hips to press you closer to her as you kiss. She hums appreciatively as her nails drag feather-light lines over your back, her other hand gently fisting into the back of your hair.

Your hips jolt at the subtle tug, a soft groan slipping out of your lips, and Wanda moans at the movement, her thighs tightening their hold.

“More,” Wanda gasps, rocking her hips up in a desperate search for that friction again, and your whole body runs hot. You lean back to look at her as you press your hips down again, and you can’t help but smile when she whines softly. “Please.”

It’s almost a whimper, and the sound makes something in you click. You swallow hard, eyes trained on her face. Her cheeks are thoroughly flushed and her pupils are blown wide as she gazes up at you, desperation written all over her face. Biting into your lip, you push off of her again to help her tug her shorts down her legs. Her breathing roughens with each inch of revealed skin, and you find yourself hesitating once her shorts are discarded and she’s left in just her panties and bra in front of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, breathless, and Wanda’s cheeks flush further, a shy smile tugging at her mouth.

Wanda licks her lip as she pushes to sit, eyes on yours as she twists a hand behind her back to undo the clip on her bra. As the fabric falls away, you feel your mouth go dry. You lift your eyes back to her face in an attempt to be respectful, and Wanda smiles softly, sitting up further to kiss you. She pulls you down as she settles onto her back again, tugging you flush against her, and god.

“I want you to touch me,” she murmurs against your lips, each word sending a chill down your spine. “Can you do that, please, baby?”

You manage a nod, brushing your lips along her jaw and down her throat, heart pounding as Wanda guides your hand between your bodies. You can’t help yourself when your palm brushes over her chest; you squeeze one of her breasts, revelling in the way Wanda gasps sharply and arches into the touch, moaning quietly when you swipe your thumb over her hardened nipple.

Lifting your head to kiss her, slow and deep, you trail your hand lower, and as you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, pulling away from her mouth to watch her eyes flutter and her mouth fall open on a silent moan, you know with terrifyingly startling clarity that you love her.

Sometime later, after Wanda has fallen asleep on your chest with your fingers stroking through her hair, you gently shift her off you and onto the mattress. She stirs with a soft groan, but sighs and falls back asleep when you smooth a hand over her back. As quietly as you can, you get back into your clothes.

When you lean over to kiss her hair, she wakes, fingers catching in your borrowed hoodie.

“Where’re you going?” she asks, eyes still shut and her lips pulled down in a pout.

“Home,” you whisper, grabbing her hand and lacing your fingers. Wanda squeezes weakly, whines out in protest.

“Stay, baby, please,” she mumbles. Your heart somehow swoops and leaps at the same time, and you sigh softly, bringing her hand to your lips to press a gentle kiss against the back of it.

“I can’t, sweetheart. Pietro’s gonna be home tonight.”

She grumbles, tugs roughly on your hand, and you huff a laugh as you stumble forwards, just barely catching yourself before you collapse on top of her. You drop kisses over her cheek and her hair, catching her lips when she turns her face.

You pull away before she can grab at you, because you know you won’t leave if she gets you back in the bed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Wanda,” you say softly. She hums, eyes fluttering again with the effort of opening them, but she can’t quite manage. You smile a little, gently running your fingers through her hair, and with a heavy sigh, she falls back asleep.

You practically tiptoe out of the room, closing the door as softly as possible, and as you’re making your way down the stairs you hear a loud thud from downstairs that gives you a heart attack and a half.

You half consider running back into Wanda’s room until you hear a soft, “Mudak.” Your heart calms immediately. It’s just Pietro.

Rounding the bottom of the stairs to move into the kitchen, you cautiously peer around the corner. Pietro is on the floor, picking up escaped blueberries and stuffing them back into their little container, muttering to himself in Sokovian.

“Pietro?” His head whips up, and he looks shocked for a moment before he grins. “Hey, man. You okay?”

“I—” He snorts. “I dropped the blueberries.”

You huff a laugh, stepping past the mess to grab a handful of paper towels. Pietro moves back as you crouch down, muttering a thank you as you start to clean up the mess.

“Where’s Wanda?” he asks, words slurring.

“Asleep,” you reply. He hums, fumbling for a glass of water. He’s quiet until you’re putting the used paper towels in the bin.

“I think she likes you,” he says. Your blood runs cold, and you turn to look at him, schooling your face into one of confusion opposed to fear. He grins. “Like, like-like. Hasn’t said anythin’, but… twins know stuff, y’know.”

You hum, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Isn’t she with Jarvis?”

The reaction isn’t one you’d expected; Pietro groans loudly, clearly frustrated. “Jarvis,” he repeats. “Fuckin’ asshole. Hate that guy. You are so much cooler than Jarvis.”

You can’t help but smile, but then Pietro straightens up and when he goes to take a step, he trips over nothing. He chuckles as he catches himself on the bench. “Oops.”

“I think you should get to bed,” you say carefully.

“Too far,” he says, but he puts an arm around your shoulders when you tug him upright again, an arm around his waist. “Gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Alright, couch it is.” You help him stumble to the couch, dropping him down awkwardly with a soft groan. He groans, too, but immediately starts to settle onto his back. “You’re heavier than you look.”

He grins. “‘s all the muscle,” he slurs.

You shake your head in disbelief as you laugh. “Goodnight, Pietro.”

“God, it’s like, if you’re a snob, at least be aware that you’re a snob, you know? Have some dignity. Like, at least Stark knows he’s a prick. It’s part of his charm.”

You huff a laugh at Carol’s millionth complaint about Jarvis and his stupid accent, only half listening as you stare up at the ceiling, last night’s events still spinning around in your brain. The sight of Wanda flushed and wanting below you is seared into the back of your brain like a brand, her soft moans as she fell apart on your fingers bouncing around in your head on an endless loop.

But then there’s today; the way she hardly looked at you, leaning into Jarvis’ side when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders on the way to class, the smile she’d given him when he kissed her on the cheek.

“How was your night?” Carol says after a beat, turning to look at you. You shrug, fight the blush you can feel creeping up your neck. This is your least favourite part; lying to your best friend about it all. There’s another pause, and you can feel Carol’s eyes on you. “You and Wanda take advantage of the empty house?”

Your neck almost snaps, you look at her so quick. “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?”

Carol just grins, turning away. “Well, if there was any doubt before…”

“I don’t, I mean—” You huff out a flustered breath. “Carol, what—?”

“You’ve been sneakin’ around with Wanda Maximoff,” she says, matter-of-factly.

“I—” You let out a laugh, stammering. “I am - no I have not!”

Carol laughs, clearly amused by your failing attempts to cover your ass, and you can feel your face growing hot. She raises her eyebrows expectedly as you stumble over your words, and after about eleven seconds of fumbling, you just let out a heavy groan, rolling onto your stomach to bury your face against the mattress.

“Fuck,” you mutter out in defeat, and your best friend is on you in a second.

She shoves at your back as she practically squeals in joy. “Are you serious? I was only, like, 95% sure! When did it start? No, better question, how did it start? Did she, like, initiate it? There’s no way you did; you’re too much of a pussy to make the first move ever.”

“Hey!” you scoff in indignation, lifting your head and shoving Carol away. She topples off the bed, but is back in an instant, totally undeterred by the fall.

“Dude, I didn’t even know she was into girls,” she says, face flushed from excitement. “I, okay, I had my suspicions, but I never - and definitely not with you.” She ignores your offended scoff, smiling. “Tell me how it happened, please.”

“I—” You huff, hiding your face in your hands again. “She just - she came over to drop off some paprikash her mum had made, and then she kissed me and then asked me not to tell anyone but then she found me at school and said she… couldn’t stop thinking about me.” Your cheeks burn red as your best friend’s grin widens. “She asked me to kiss her and then… we were… together.”

Carol hums. “And you’ve been keeping it a secret this whole time?”

You nod, eyes on the ceiling again. “Yup. But she’s practically betrothed to Jarvis; her parents have this whole plan. So she can’t tell anyone.”

You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone, and Carol frowns in concern.

“Are you, like, okay with that?”

The words hit you rather hard. It’s the first time anyone’s ever asked how you feel about you and Wanda’s… arrangement, so it’s sort of also the first time you’ve ever really had to think about it. No, is your first thought. And then your second, Not at all.

You swallow thickly, closing your eyes to stave off the burning of tears. “I don’t know,” you say quietly. “It was sort of fun at first, but now I just… I dunno, just wish things weren’t so…” You gesture vaguely with your hands, and Carol twists her lips. “Complicated.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

You shrug. “No.”

“You probably should.”

“Yeah, probably.” You sigh. “I don’t - I don’t know. I don’t want to screw anything up, you know? Like, the good outweighs the bad. I like her. Really like her. I know that’s probably not good ‘cause she might be moving to England, but I just…”

Carol sighs when you trail off. “Dude, you should really talk to her.”

You sigh through your nose. “Yeah, I will,” you say absently. “Whatever. Don’t wanna think about it right now. Let’s watch a movie.”

You get up before Carol can protest, moving up the bed to settle against the headboard.

Two hours later, she’s snoring beside you. As you reach over to turn off the television so you can get some sleep yourself, your phone rings, Wanda’s contact glaring back at you. You half consider not picking up. If she asked you about it, you could always say you were asleep. You watch your phone ring, your thoughts conflicting until you grunt unhappily and reach for the device, answering the call right before the last ring.

“Hey,” you say quietly, eyes closing as drowsiness pulls at you again.

“I’m sorry about today,” is what she says in response.

It wakes you up almost immediately, and you sigh quietly as you roll onto your back, rubbing at your eyes. “It’s okay,” you say softly.

“No, it’s not.” Her voice shakes, and worry tugs on your heart. “It was - so shitty. I freaked out on you. I’m sorry.” For a few moments, there’s silence, and then Wanda sighs quietly. “I missed you, you know.”

The tightness in your chest loosens a little at the shyness in her voice. “I missed you too.”

Another beat. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” you say gently. “No, I’m not. Just…” You rub a hand over your face, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue: You hurt my feelings. It proves impossible to get them out, so instead you settle for, “I’m not angry with you.”

She exhales again. “Are you… is your mom working tomorrow?” she asks. “Can I come over? We can have a movie day?”

Part of you wants to say no, even though your mother is working, and the realisation makes your heart hurt. You must be quiet for too long, because Wanda says your name in this little, confused voice.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Sorry, I’m just - half asleep. Uh…” You rub at your eyes again. “Yes, mom’s working. I’ve just gotta do groceries tomorrow, but after that I’m free.”

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Text me, and I’ll come over? We can have dinner together.”

“That sounds good,” you say softly. “Night, Wanda.”

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

The line goes dead, and you take a deep breath, heart aching in your chest.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda smut #wanda series #j is writing #mine

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chickenparm · 2 years

Note

i've got vander brain rot thinking about him being able to just pick you up and bend you over the bar after hours 😳

alright bitch you got me but i'm not happy about it and i'm writing this with angry hands

also this goes without saying but thank you @sweatandwoe for betaing this and making sure i didn't call vander the wrong name lmao

Vander/f!Reader 2,683 Words -NSFW P in V, Oral Sex (F Receiving), the smallest bit of Rimming, Mirror Sex, fuckin' on the bar from behind, Size Kink, Praise

When the door is shut and the lights are turned low, that's when Vander comes around. Like clockwork, as you're cleaning up the bar and putting away glasses, the door to the back room opens and Vander comes in. You can tell just by the way he isn't looking you in the eye that he's been alone with his thoughts most of the night.

Instead of speaking, or asking what was on his mind, you poured him a drink with a freshly-cleaned glass and set it on a coaster in front of him. Blue eyes watch intently as you push it closer and turn back to your nightly duties, giving him time to either finish and leave or to speak to you as he normally did.

You're nearly done and are wiping off the bar top by the time he speaks, voice lower in volume as if he's afraid being louder will break the silence too harshly.

"The kids come back?"

"Not yet. Vi said they'll be out late."

"They all went?" Vander punctuates his question with a sip of his drink, and you watch from the corner of your eye as his tongue darts out to catch the remnants on his lips. You pointedly look back to the counter top, working on some of the built up stickiness from the busy night you'd had.

"Yep, Ekko, too. Looks like it's just you tonight after I leave here."

And then he's silent once more, so contemplative that it's actually kind of bringing your mood down. If it's obvious you hurry through the rest of your work, Vander barely even notices. It's strange - he's normally talkative, asking about you or your life, how your day was, mundane little things that must have added up to a solid picture of who you were in his mind.

And vice versa, to the point that you'd almost say the two of you were friends with how long you'd been helping run his bar on the busier nights.

It's for the best that he's a bit quieter tonight, if you're being honest. While you respect and genuinely enjoy Vander as a person... you're still a hot-blooded young woman and Vander's shirt is a bit tight around the biceps today. If you focused, you could probably trace the muscles of his back with your eyes.

Vander was a friend, but you'd be a fool if you didn't take notice of everything he had to offer.

As you're walking from the storage room you kept your jacket in while slipping your arm inside, Vander's looking at you once more with an odd intensity. It's got your heart rate up in the span of a second, and you wonder - if it was any quieter, would he be able to hear it?

"Got a question to ask you. Y'don't have to answer."

"I'm an open book, Vander," You answer without hesitation - it's not a bluff, you're not sure you've denied or lied to Vander once in the handful of years you'd known him. When your answer processes, there's a strange twist to his lips that looks almost cynical - wry, even.

"You're not as easy to read as you think, love."

There's a lot to unpack in that string of words - that he can't get a read on you for some odd reason, that he feels the burning need to ask his question outright instead of letting it go, and the little pet name he'd never used with you before. It was always "lass", if anything at all.

Vander downs his drink, carefully setting it on the coaster - another little thing you enjoyed, that he didn't mess up your work when you'd just finished it. A small appreciation.

"Have you got someone waitin' on you at home?"

No, he knows this - maybe in passing, but Vander is well aware that you're painfully single. You shake your head, and wait for him to process that answer. He's stalling, you realize as he spins the glass absently.

"Vander, what's this about?"

If he's going to keep stalling, you're going to go home. It's been a long night, it's nearing sunrise, and you need your sleep for tomorrow evening's shift. Vander doesn't pay pennies, but you're on salaried time at the moment.

Your assertiveness seems to knock some sense into him, because now he's looking at you with something far more than the contemplative looks. Now it's heated, giving you his full attention as his eyes obviously pay more attention to certain parts of your body - your hips, your chest, the bare skin of your shoulder as your too-large shirt slides down.

"Vander?"

"You've got two choices," Vander speaks suddenly, his voice louder now, like he's finally coming around to this strange situation after dragging it out with his hesitation, "You can go home as usual and I'll see you tomorrow."

The other choice isn't as clear cut as the first - it's your typical routine and nothing would change. You're tempted to take that immediately, but the obvious hunger in Vander's eyes as he leans an elbow on the bar is what causes you to wait.

"Or, you can stay here."

"And what would happen here?"

"That's up to you. Whatever you want."

And suddenly it clicks in your brain what he's suggesting. Whether it's his own desire or he's caught on to your frequent, lingering stares is still up for debate. You're not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, not while Vander is looking at you in likely the same way you'd been eyeing him for far too long.

Shame or embarrassment should be filling you, but there's nothing but a yearning now that he's opened the floodgates and all but taunted you into rushing through. There is one fantasy that strikes you every time the night is slow and you're leaning just a bit too far over the bar to wipe up a condensation ring or pick up an empty glass.

Your eyes dart to the bar top, and Vander's on his feet immediately to crowd you against it, "You tell me to stop if you don't want this, understand?" Your nod isn't enough, and the sensation of his hands curling around your upper arms makes your skin prickle with anticipation - he's so much larger.

"Tell me, love. Say you understand."

"I-I understand, Vander."

"Good," He starts, running his palms up your arms to your shoulders, and then he turns you to the bar top that's gleaming in the low lights, "Up we go."

And then he's picking you up, one arm around your chest and the other at your waist, hoisting your torso up on the bar as your legs dangle well above the floor - there's a mirror lining the wall behind the bar, and you watch as Vander sidles up behind you with his hands on the surface, caging you in.

Immediately, you can feel the pressure against your backside, the grind of his already-hard cock against your ass. Sharply, you inhale a gasp and your eyes catch the pinch of Vander's eyebrows as he digs his fingers into your hips.

Vander is a big man, and you expected him to be just as large in other areas - but you can feel the length pressing insistently against you and it's enough to have you jittery with a strange mix of anticipation and worry.

The fingers at your hips curl around the band of your pants, and he hesitates for only a moment. The look he's giving you in the reflection of the mirror makes it clear that he's giving you a moment to back out, to decide you no longer want to do this.

Instead, you nod, and then your pants are being slid down your thighs. Vander's been working you up both knowingly and unknowingly, and if you could see your arousal you knew you'd be soaked, practically dripping as you feel his breath against you.

"Y'look so good, sweetheart. Can't tell you how long I've been thinking about having you like this for me."

With no small amount of embarrassment now, you whine his name below your breath as an encouragement - he was blind if he didn't see how badly you needed him already, and simply staring at your cunt wasn't going to cut it.

"Patience," Vander chides, large hands coming to cup your ass and massage it in circles before he pulls you apart. Your face heats instantly when you hear the wet sound of your folds parting beneath his thumbs, "Let me admire you for a moment. I don't want to forget this."

"Vander," Your voice is sharp as you push through the cloudiness in your mind to let yourself think freely for a single moment, "If you think I'm letting you walk away from this without a promise of it happening again, you're an idiot."

Vander's frozen, his face hidden from your view in the reflection of the mirror. That's when you wonder if you've overstepped a line, laid your cards out too soon and now Vander is second-guessing this.

"Y'want that, lass?"

"I want you, Vander. Please, give me something here before I go crazy-"

You're cut off by your own yelp when you feel the wet texture of his tongue slide up your entire cunt from clit to hole, and then up even further to circle around your asshole. You feel strangled by your own arousal as he glides back down and pushes his tongue into your pussy with a pleased groan, as if he was eating something delicious.

You wished you could see him, but the only sight that greets you in the mirror is your own face, your lip pulled between your teeth as Vander has his way with you. Despite being hidden from your gaze, Vander is far from quiet as you push back against him. His beard scratches at your thighs almost uncomfortably, but it's easily drowned out when his fingers find your clit.

"If you keep doing that I'm gonna cum," You warn, knowing it's not much of a threat with the way he works at you faster. A groan rumbling from his throat that synchronizes with your moan of his name as you clench around him, bucking back harshly.

Vander speaks against you, lapping up every bit of your arousal between words, "That was beautiful, love. Can't wait to feel that again."

Again? You're not sure you can give him another, but he's already rising to his feet and you can see the sheen on his lips and the dampness in his beard from where he'd been recklessly pushed into your pussy.

The buttons of his pants are loud as he unsnaps them and pushes the fabric down enough to free himself. You can't look away when he steps enough to the side to let you see him, to see what he's about to push inside of you right here on this bar.

"You still want this, sweetheart? Want me to give it to you?"

"Please," You raise your hips a bit, beckoning him back even as he strokes himself leisurely while he looks you in the eye. He's long and thick, and you have a shamefully deep need to wrap your lips around it until he's coming unraveled on your tongue.

There's still next time, you promise yourself as he settles back behind you. His cock is heavy against your ass as he grabs both cheeks and presses them around himself. The sensation of his cock rubbing against your asshole is definitely foreign, but it's the good sort that has you dripping onto the bar all over again.

Even as you press back against him and encourage a low growl from the bottom of his chest, he's pulling away enough to slide his cock down and to your pussy.

"I'm gonna fill your pussy right up, make sure you wanna keep coming back again and again."

You can't answer, not when he's so completely taken your breath away, and all you can do is leverage your hands against the bar and push back on his cock until he's stretching you. Vander is big, more than anyone you've taken before, and you're grateful that he took the time to prepare you at least slightly for this.

The groan that he lets out is mixed with a disbelieving laugh as he helps you along, rocking his dick deeper and deeper inside of you, "You're tight. You're so good while stretched around my cock, love. Tell me how it feels inside you."

"I-It's too much," You gasp, just as Vander pushes the rest inside and leaves you reeling. In the mirror, you lock eyes with him, your gaze wild and frantic at the over stimulation. His hand slides up from your ass, pushing your shirt up and rubbing along your spine soothingly with a too-warm palm.

"You've already taken it, you just tell me when you're ready and I'll make sure you can't even walk home."

That in itself is enough to have you clenching around him, his words settling in your head thickly alongside all the other praise he's given you. You want more, and you take deep breaths to calm your racing pulse to prepare yourself to be ruined by this man.

Vander still looks hungry, but there's a tenderness as he carefully watches your face that has your heart warming considerably - he's being so patient, so gentle when he could have been rough with you and made you take it all in one swift thrust. Instead, his thumb is rubbing little circles against the muscles of your lower back, and you find yourself beginning to rock your hips for the friction you need.

The man can take a hint, and he slowly starts to work his cock in and out of you while alternating with little circles of his hips when he's fully seated inside. It's getting easier, a little less overwhelming, but his cock inside you is a tight fit that you're not sure you'll ever get used to.

"Go faster, please-"

"Been waitin' for you to say that," Vander cuts you off and pushes in sharply - and you scream. There's nothing else you can do as he chooses a pace that has you filled to capacity before he's pulling out almost completely. The sensation of being refilled by his cock is too much, and you're already aroused by everything he's done up to this point.

You don't last long, not with the way he's looking at you in the mirror with a grimace of please, the glint of his teeth reflecting the light as he hisses your name between them. It's painful, the way your cunt clenches around him with your orgasm.

Skin squeals against the lacquered top of the bar as you scramble for purchase, and you realize you're crying with an odd mix of whines and sobs. Vander fucks you through it all, a quiet curse under his breath as you tremble beneath him. He's pushing further into you and it's painful, mixing with your still-simmering orgasm and making you feel delirious.

There's no room for his cum inside of you, and it's already leaking out and onto the bar as he gives one more thrust for good measure before pulling all the way out. You feel desolately empty, and you sigh at the loss as your cheek is pressed against the bar top.

Vander recovers much quicker than you, his hands smoothing up your back to slide around your front - he gives your breasts a quick squeeze before he's lifting you up and into his arms. You feel silly with your shirt rucked up around your breasts and your pants caught around your knees as he carries you to the back rooms of the bar.

"Y'alright, love?"

"Sore - a little," You answer, letting your head loll against his chest as he nudges the door open and sets you on what appears to be his own bed.

"I've got a remedy for that," Vander's voice is low with a promise as he crawls onto the bed and settles between your legs.

#vander #vander arcane #arcane vander #arcane #vander x reader #female reader #read my a/n up there ya bums #minors dni #lemon #don't ask me for a sequel it's not happening

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