#I’m so excited for my sunday night bath

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[prythianpages]

Stuck On You | Part Three

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.

Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse

“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”

“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand. 

“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”

She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.

Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your inner turmoil concerning Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.

You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.

However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of her little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.

“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”

“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.

“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered. 

“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”

“And quieter!”

“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”

“Go to your room!”

“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.

**

Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday. 

Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.

He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.

You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.

Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.

However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this. 

Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.

You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.

Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.

“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.

“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”

You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”

You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.

“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.

 A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the delicate balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.

“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”

“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”

You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich aroma of the hot cocoa.

“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”

Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.

“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”

**

The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.

“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”

“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.

Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.

“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.

“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.

Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:

“Nothing!”

Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.

When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.

 You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.

Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.

“Cassian.”

He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.

His throat tightened. “Yes?”

“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”

A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his. 

“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”

“Please don’t push me away.”

 “They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”

“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”

A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.

Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?

“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”

Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.

“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”

**

Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back. 

When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.

Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”

You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.

In stepped the formidable son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.

The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern. The atmosphere had shifted from one of amiability to one of quiet deference, all eyes now focused on the figure who seemed to hold the establishment in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.

“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”

“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”

“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”

“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.

Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”

Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”

Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit. 

“I–”

“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”

Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”

“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”

His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.

“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”

You lifted your gaze.

The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.

“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”

**

The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.

But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age. 

She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.

Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.

"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."

You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands. 

You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.

He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”

Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.

 “It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”

**

Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.

A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.

Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty. 

An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.

The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the subtle glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.

There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.  

“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.

“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Can I come in?”

You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.

Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.

His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”

To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”

“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”

Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.

“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.

He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”

A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.

 "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”

Despite her attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.

“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.

His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”

“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”

Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.

“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”

“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”

More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.

You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.

Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”

Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”

“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”

Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.

Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"

"I thought you were here to stay.”

Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news. 

“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.

“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷

tagging: @kemillyfreitas

[backtothefanfiction]

Super Dad | Dad!Peter Imagine

Summary: Peter fell asleep working on the kids science homework.

Length: Short

Warnings: none, this is mostly fluff

A/N: Just another one of those quick imagines before I sleep.

They had come home with the assignment on Friday. They had exited the school and run straight into your arms all giggles and smiles, sheets of paper in their tiny hands, blowing in the late autumn breeze.

“What have you got there bug?” You asked as your youngest waved the piece of paper, too large for her hands, towards your face.

“It’s science week next week!” She squealed excited, little fists punching the air once you’d taken the piece of paper from her.

“Each grade has an assigned topic.” Your eldest added as she handed over her own assignment to you.

“Well, it looks like we are going to be having a very busy weekend.”

Anna, your youngest’s, project was a model solar system. Your older daughter, Maria, had to do a project on renewable energy. She insisted that she wanted to make a working water mill, but her Father (knowing he’d end up being the one to do most of, if not all of the work anyway) insisted she make a wind mill.

Safe to say Peter had been right. The girls gave up on their projects halfway through the Saturday and with a trip to Aunt May’s planned on Sunday afternoon, your Sunday night had been relegated to finishing off the girls projects, ready for the following morning.

You had put the girls to bed before returning to help finish painting the tiny paper mache planets for Anna’s solar system. You turned the TV on with the volume low, the sounds of Friends re-runs acting as background noise as you both did the work.

You couldn’t help but get fixated every now and again on your husband’s concentration face. The way he squinted his eyes and quirked his lip. Every now and again he’d lift his glasses slightly and survey his work. When he got the motor mechanism for the windmill working he looked so proud of himself and it made your chest swell.

“Right, that’s the last planet painted.” You announced as you placed the cocktail stick attached to it in a piece of foam to be left to dry.

You grabbed your mug and took a sip of your drink. When you placed it back down you realised just how covered in paint you had become as sticky paint finger prints covered the once white mug. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath and salvage what’s left of my weekend.” You announce as you get up.

“Huh?” Peter says as he suddenly pulls his focus away from the job at hand, now that you’re standing. “Uh, yeah, okay.” He quickly follows as his delay in processing your words finally catches up with itself.

You smile as you give him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t be too much longer with that.” You say giving him a quick kiss before you leave the room.

You end up spending nearly an hour in the bath and then another half an hour after that pampering yourself with a full facial before climbing into your pyjamas and reading for a little bit. When it’s near midnight and Peter still hasn’t started making his way to bed, you reluctantly get yourself out from under the nice warm covers to look for him.

When you make it back out to the main area of your apartment his head is resting on his arm on the dining room table. Both projects are completed in front of him. They look perfect, your girls are going to be so happy when they see them.

“Hey.” You say softly as you shake him awake.

“Hnngggg.” He groans as he slowly rouses.

“Hey super dad.” You coo quietly to him.

“Hey.” He says back sleepily,

“You know, I think our bed is much more comfortable than the dining room table.” You say softly.

“But then who would protect my masterpieces.” He jokes.

“Come on Spider Boy, I think they’ll survive the night just being in our apartment.”

“You promise.” He continues to sleepily play along.

“I promise.” You say holding your pinky out to him and he lazily hooks it with his own. “Okay, come on.” You say helping him up and escorting him to bed.

The following morning there’s a squeal and a crash that makes the two of you race from your bed. When you get out to the dining table where your youngest now lies in a heap on the floor, surrounded by her project, rubbing at her knee, you know you’ve been too presumptuous.

“Survive the night, eh” you hear your husband mutter beside you before he’s bending down to attend to his little girl.

“Hey bug, what happened?” Peter says gently but you know from his tone of voice he’s trying with all his might not to be irritated by the fact his hard work last night has been damaged already.

“I went to grab it so I could look at it and I slipped.”

“It’s okay.” You say as you begin to pick up the pieces of the solar system to be put back together.

“Well, are you okay?” Peter checks in with her,

“Yeah, I just hit my knee.” She replies.

“Do you need Daddy to kiss it better?”

Peter feels you kick him in the side gently. He knows how much of an affect that word has on you and he fights to hold in his grin so he can keep tending to his daughter instead.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve got it.” She says before getting up to come and join you as you sit at the table and start glueing the planets back into place.

“Come on bug, how about some breakfast.” Peter encourages her towards the kitchen and away from you and the project before she does it any more harm.

When he brings you over a bowl of your favourite cereal moments later you hear him say, “Bet you’re wishing you’d left me to sleep on the dining room table to protect them now, eh?”

“Hey, I said they’d survive the night and they did.” You smile up at him. “Technically nothing happened to them until the morning, after the sun was up.” You wise crack back.

“Yeah?” He jokes,

“Yeah!” You sass back.

“Well I’m sure you would have felt differently if it was you who had done 80% of the work.”

“Hey, I painted the planets.” You reply with mock offence.

“Fine.” He concedes with a sigh. “75%.”

“Thank you very much.” You smile at him in response before there’s a cry of “Daaadd.” From the kitchen.

“That’s my queue.” He smiles.

“That’s your queue.” You smile back as he leans in for a kiss.

“Oh and don’t think I don’t remember you calling me super Dad last night.” You roll your eyes at his own ego, “I’m gonna be using that for a long time.”

“Yeah, yeah:” you say waving him off. But it’s true. Peter is a super dad and you couldn’t be more happy to have him forever by your side.

[ilovehowyoufeel]

I (29f) Didn’t Miss My Husband (30m)

My husband was gone for the weekend on a short trip. He left early Friday morning and got back early Sunday evening. It was just me and our kids at home. Last night, after I’d gotten them to bed and was soaking in a bath, I realized I hadn’t missed him at all. In the past, when he’d be gone with late hours at work or weekends at drill (he used to be an army reservist) I’d miss him so much, counting the seconds until he got home, and I’d be so excited when he walked through the door. This time, I felt nothing. I’m not sure how to feel about this. I know it was just a weekend, but that has never mattered before. We hardly talked this weekend, and I honestly don’t really care or even notice. Is this indicative of anything? Should I take a deeper look at our relationship? Any advice is appreciated.

[jakeysfallingsky]

Among the Wildflowers - Chapter 3 - Jake Kiszka x Reader

Hi hi! Back again with another chapter. This one is a fun one. Most of Chapter 4 is already written, hoping to be back Thursday with another update :) let me know what you think!

18+ Content - Minors, do not interact.

Summary: You're a hairstylist in Nashville, and the boys in Greta Van Fleet become your clients when they relocate to the city. They quickly all take a liking to you, one sweet guitarist especially. Jake is patient in his pursuit of you, but will your self-created set of rules hold you back from ever being anything more with him?

Word Count: 6900+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, choking, etc. Mentions of alcohol.

•

•

After leaving Jake’s house on Sunday, you went home and got ready for the week - laundry, grocery shopping, and cleaning, the whole nine yards. Exhausted after the weekend’s excitement and all of your chores, you ran yourself a bath and paired a glass of wine to go with the book you were reading.

Just as you sank down into the hot bubbles with the wine and book nearby, your phone buzzed. You glanced at your phone to see it was a text from Jake. Opening your messages, you see it was actually a selfie. He had attempted to put his hair half up like you had for him the night before, but his efforts certainly didn’t have the same effect. You smile at how cute he is.

Jake: Trying my best. What do you think?

You: A for effort. You coming for my job or something, Kiszka?

Jake: Obviously.

Jake: Just kidding. I’m cooking and needed it out of the way. What are you up to tonight? 

You smirk as an idea pops into your head, thinking that Jake might be really interested in what you’re currently doing.

Pushing the bubbles around yourself, you bend one leg so it’s slightly out of the water. You angle your phone camera so the whole bathtub is captured with the entirety of your bare thigh exposed, nearly up to your hip. You send the playful photo to Jake, figuring he wouldn’t mind.

You: I’m in here, wishing I had some company right now 

Jake: You’re actually going to be the death of me

Jake: And I’m supposed to keep my hands off of you until Friday? God

You giggle at his reply. 

You: Patience, baby

Jake: Yeah, no

You: :) 

You chuckle and set your phone down, picking up the wine and your book and diving in. The bubbles are long gone and the water is lukewarm at best when you finally decide to get out of the tub and get ready for bed. You run through your evening routine and settle into your comfy bed when you check your phone again to see another message from Jake.

Jake: Jokes aside, you’re probably heading off to bed soon and I wanted to wish you goodnight and sweet dreams. This weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a long while, thanks to you. I’m really looking forward to spending time with you next weekend, sweetheart. 

Jake: P.S. you’re a really good kisser. I hope we can fit making out once or twice into our packed agenda of eating dinner on the couch and watching movies.

You snort before replying to him. 

You: Thank you for everything this weekend. I had the best time. And I think we can squeeze that and maybe a few other things into the Friday itinerary. Goodnight Jake, sweet dreams.

Tossing your phone to the side once the message is sent, you quickly drift off to sleep.

Jake opens the last message from you and chuckles. He locks his phone and rolls onto his side to get comfortable. He notices the pillow you slept on still faintly smells of you, and he smiles to himself as he takes it into his arms to cuddle it. He falls asleep just as quickly as you do. 

•

•

The week flies by, you were incredibly busy at work, and before you know it, it’s Thursday evening. You and Jake had been texting all week long, and you couldn’t wait to see him so soon.

Jake was nervously pacing in his living room, Josh watching him from the couch while he tried to watch a movie.

“Can you sit down? Jesus Christ. You picked this and you aren’t even watching.” Josh grumbled.

Jake sighed. “I don’t know what to make for dinner tomorrow.”

Josh eyed his twin. “That’s what has you worked up right now? Your menu? Make homemade pizzas and get the wine you know she likes and call it good.”

Jake nods and continues pacing, deep in thought. “See, I already thought of that. But I’m really good at cooking and could do something way more impressive. But I don’t really know what she likes. And what if I mess it up or she doesn’t like-“

Josh stood and yanked Jake to the couch. “Breathe. You’re overthinking this. Make the damn pizza.”

Jake glares at Josh and he continues. “It’s not about the food, you could honestly probably feed her takeout from McDonald’s and she would still be just as happy. It’s about spending time with you.”

“Okay. You have a point. I just want things to be perfect because she’s so perfect and so far out of my league.” Jake finishes with a sigh and rubs his chin. 

Josh’s eyes don’t move from the TV screen as he replies. “I think you should stop worrying. I know it’s hard. But she really likes you. Just let things happen.”

Jake glanced at his brother and huffed before pulling out his phone to make his grocery list for the next day.

Meanwhile, you were at home packing your bag for tomorrow. Eyeing your lingerie sets, you run your fingers over the different pieces of lace. You threw both a white and a black set in your bag, unable to choose. 

You flop onto your bed with a sigh once your bag is fully packed and you’re ready for your last day of work. You send Jake a quick text, since you both had been wishing each other good morning and good night all week.

You: I’m off to bed early, sweet dreams baby. I can’t wait for tomorrow :)

Jake glanced down at his phone in his hand and smiled. Josh smiled as well, watching his brother and figuring that he was talking to you. 

Jake: I’ve been waiting for Friday all week. Make sure you’re well rested for our movie marathon tomorrow :) goodnight and sweet dreams. 

•

•

It’s a beautiful and sunny Friday, and you finish work a little ahead of schedule, so you freshen up your hair and makeup at your work area.

“Hot date tonight?” Your coworker, Ashley, asked from behind you. 

You smirked a little as you curled another section of hair. “Something like that.”

“With who? Where are they from? Tinder, Hinge, Bumble-”

You cut her off with a sly smile. “A client.”

Ashley gasped. “You didn’t. No way. You of all people? Okay, okay. Let me guess who it is.” She closed her eyes and tapped her temples. Her eyes shot open as she mentally flipped through your potential suitors and she remembered one in particular. “Please, please tell me it’s a date with a very hot and very talented guitarist named Jake.”

You fluffed your hair, finishing up. “Yeah, he really is hot, isn’t he?”

Ashley squealed. “Oh, this is too good. I want to know everything on Monday.” She grins at you in the mirror. 

You turn around, starting to walk away, itching to get out of there. The more time you spend at work, the less time you have with Jake.  “Of course. Have a good weekend, Ashley!”

She waves and you zip over to your car and let Jake know you’re on your way. He doesn’t see your message because he’s busy putting the finishing touches on dinner and setting up his living room with candles and his favorite blankets. 

You park in his driveway and make your way to the door, ringing the doorbell. Jake all but sprints to the door and swings it open with a huge grin on his face. He’s wearing a classic Jake outfit - cropped and barely buttoned navy button-down shirt with his favorite pair of well-loved light wash jeans cuffed at the ankles, with his silver atocha coin pendant resting on his tanned chest. 

“Hey, you!” He says happily with a big grin as he tugs you over the threshold and into a tight hug. “Hi Jacob.” You say into his almost-bare chest, the back of your head being held by his hand. 

Jake loosens his grip on you and you pull back, but stay in his arms. “How was work?” He asks as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

You shrug. “Work was fine, nothing too exciting. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, I have some really important plans tonight.”

Jake smiles down at you as he reaches behind to shut the door, his eyes not leaving yours. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

You loop your fingers into his belt loops and pull him forward, your lips meeting his. Without any hesitation, he’s kissing you back fiercely, moving his hands around your neck while you slide one hand just under the hem of his shirt that lands at his hips, and your other hand begins running up and down his warm chest. 

When you both can’t take it anymore, you pull back slightly. Jake’s chest is heaving up and down while he catches his breath and he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Mmm, yeah that was really important.” Jake says in his deep rasp. You pat his chest with a smirk and he grabs your hand, kissing the back of it before leading you to his kitchen. 

“Jake, it smells amazing in here.” You say as you both stand in the kitchen. Jake smiles and looks down at the bottle of wine he’s grabbed, pouring both of you a glass. His cheeks warm at your praise. 

“Thank you, I’m really glad I get to cook for you tonight.” He hands you the glass of wine and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. 

You sit on a stool in his kitchen after offering to help, which he immediately shot down. “You know, I remember there was one time you made chocolate chip cookies and brought them to the office on a day I was working there with you guys, and I’m pretty sure they were the best cookies I’ve ever had in my entire life. It had to have been two years ago but I still remember them.” You tell him and he smiles fondly at the memory.

It wasn’t often that he would bring homemade treats to the office, but he remembered from one of his appointments that you loved sweets, especially cookies. He purposely woke up early that day to make cookies to bring for everyone, but mainly you. The way your eyes lit up when he nervously approached you with the container and the big smile you gave him after declaring they were utterly delicious sent him to heaven and back. 

Jake smiles at you. “I have cookie dough chilling in the fridge, I remembered you really liked those. I’ll put them in the oven after dinner so we can have them for our movies.”

You rest your head on your hand on the counter and sigh happily up at Jake. “I don’t think you could get any sweeter, Jacob.” 

Jake’s cheeks darken into the nearly perpetual blush he has when he’s around you and he walks by you to grab the pizzas he made out of the oven. “Only for you.” He says with his back to you as he opens the oven, too shy to say that while making eye contact. You grin at the man standing before you, your heart overflowing. The feelings you had for Jake were unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. He was kind, thoughtful, hilarious, talented, intelligent - truly one in a million.

He sets the pizzas on the counter and they look amazing. “Okay chef, tell me what we have here.” You stand up and move to be next to him, lightly bumping his elbow and he chuckles.

“Um, well, this one on the left is a rosemary bacon goat cheese, it’s my favorite to make, and I didn’t know if that would sound good to you so I also made a cheese one.” Jake rubs the back of his neck nervously and peers down at you. 

“No, these both look amazing, thank you so much for making dinner.” You tell him as you wrap one arm around his waist and squeeze gently.

He wraps his arm around you as well and leans his head on yours. “You’re welcome, I’m just glad we can spend some time together this weekend.” He says quietly. He unwinds his arm and starts cutting the pizzas while you put the fruit and salads he had already prepped on the table.

You both grab some slices of pizza and sit at his kitchen table. It’s truly the best pizza you’ve ever had, far surpassing anything you’ve ever made before.

“Oh my god Jake, this is so good!” You say. He finishes his bite, holding back a smile. “I’ve been told before that if something happens and music doesn’t work out, I should pursue a culinary career.” He laughs.

You both finish eating dinner and Jake puts the cookies in the oven. Eyeing the bottle of wine on the counter, you refill both of your glasses and move to his living room, where he has cozy pillows, blankets, and candles set up. 

“Hey Jake, I’m going to change into comfier clothes.” You yell while walking upstairs with your bag. You walk into his room and grab your crewneck and leggings out of your bag and start to change. Jake had wandered upstairs and figured you were changing in his bathroom and strolled into his bedroom without a second thought, also planning on changing.

Your back was to his door and you were in your underwear, pulling your shirt off when you hear him behind you. “Oh my god! Sorry, sorry-” he says as he nearly trips over himself, stumbling out of his room hastily to give you privacy. Little did Jake know, you truly didn’t mind.

A giggle escapes your mouth as you turn around. “Jake, come back here!” You yell to him, still in your bra and underwear set.

He slowly walks back into his room, cheeks on fire and heart beating out of his chest, and is staring with wide eyes. Jake is seemingly frozen, taking all of you in. “I’m sorr-”

“Shh,” you whisper, approaching him and placing a finger on his lips, “it’s okay.” 

Jake swallows harshly and looks at you and timidly places his hands on either side of your waist, holding you close. His heart is pounding, but so is yours. “You are so beautiful.” He whispers as his sweet honey eyes meet yours. You smile and tuck some hair behind his ear before looping your arms around his neck. His lips are on yours instantly and all of a sudden, he’s pushed you against his bedroom wall. His hands begin to wander and so do yours, all without breaking the feverish kisses. He’s squeezing your ass and you have one hand up his shirt and one hand moving to his zipper when the oven goes off and a series of beeps chirp loudly from downstairs.

Jake pulls back with a loud groan. “God fucking dammit.” He mutters and you giggle. You back up off the wall and he heaves a heavy sigh before running downstairs to grab the cookies. 

You turn back to your bag, the moment ruined, but decide to put on your white lacy lingerie set under your comfy clothes. Jake hears you come downstairs and rubs the back of his neck when you come into the kitchen.

“Well, at least we have cookies.” He says while shooting you a nervous glance, making sure that you were fine after what just happened in his room. The tension between you two is thick. 

You laugh. “Can we get cozy on the couch? I really want to cuddle up with you.” You tell him and he gives you a small smile and a nod and puts a plate on the counter. “Throw some cookies on this plate and I’ll be right back.”

Jake runs upstairs to change and sighs as he looks at the situation in his pants. There’s no way you both were going to make it through a movie, much less an entire marathon, without things escalating. 

He came back down to find you cozied up under his blanket with the plate of cookies nearby. He grins at your cuteness and slides under the blanket with you. He tugs you into his side while grabbing the remote and starts scrolling through Netflix.

“What are you in the mood for, sweetheart?” He asks and you hum. “I know you love Pirates of the Caribbean, just throw on one of those?”

“God, you’re incredible.” He mutters under his breath and you snicker in response. He finds the first Pirates movie and hits play. You cozy up further into his side and he grabs a warm cookie off the plate and rips off a piece.

“You want some, baby?” He says quietly and you nod, fully expecting him to hand you the piece. Instead, he brings it to your mouth and watches your lips close around the small bite. His fingers brush your lips and his eyes turn dark. You throw your head back against his shoulder. “Oh my god, just as good as I remember.”

He laughs and feeds you another piece before taking a bite of his own. “Yeah, these are pretty good, in my humble opinion.”

The cookie is gone and you eye the plate on the side table on the other side of Jake. Feeling devious, you sit up a little and slide yourself across Jake’s lap, facing him. His mouth opens slightly out of surprise and you lean over to ghost his lips while blindly grabbing a cookie off the plate. “I wanted another one.” You whisper onto his lips and just before he can close the slight distance between your face and his, you slide back into your original spot with your cookie in hand.

“That was so mean.” Jake pouts and you laugh. You break off a piece of the cookie and hold it up to his lips as a consolation prize. He rolls his eyes at you but accepts the bite.

You both sit quietly for a few minutes, snuggled up together, before Jake gets antsy. His arm is wrapped around you and he starts making circles into your skin with his hand. His other hand is tapping his thigh, his eyes are on the TV screen. You can tell he’s not watching at all and his mind is elsewhere.

“You good, baby?” You ask him. He nods.

“Just fine.” He mumbles. 

You take your hand that’s resting on his chest and start slowly moving it down to his thigh. You start rubbing gentle circles up near where his thigh and hip meet and Jake shakily inhales before muttering “fuck it” and yanking you onto his lap. You’re straddling him, kissing him furiously while his hands pick up right where they left off in his bedroom.

Jake’s tongue dances at the entrance of your mouth and you eagerly let him in. Your hands travel down to the crotch of his pants and in that moment, you thank a higher power for Jake changing into sweatpants as you start to tug his pants down. “This okay?” You ask him, out of breath.

“Yes, oh my god yes.” He manages to get out and he lifts himself up a little so you can slide his pants off. You start attacking his neck with small kisses and move lower to his collarbone so you can leave marks. Your teeth sink gently into his skin and a whine escapes Jake’s throat and he moves his hands to the hem of your crewneck, hastily trying to lift it over your head.

He’s pantsless and you’re shirtless and Jake slows his movements for a moment, gawking at you in your lingerie. He has never seen someone so angelic in his life, and he swears that he will never commit another sin again if it means he can have you half naked in his lap every day for the rest of eternity.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, “you are so fucking beautiful, baby.” You grin at him while ripping your own leggings off and start kissing him again, this time rolling your hips a little and his cock is begging to be set free as it moves against your soaked core. Jake moans as you roll your hips and nibble on his ear at the same time and it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Let me hear you Jake.” You whisper into his ear before tugging on it with his teeth and he moves his hands from squeezing your ass to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he stands, shakily carrying you out of his living room. You don’t make it up the stairs, instead, he carries you to the wall and shoves you against it, still holding you up. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, your hands tugging his hair, and his tongue finds its way into your mouth again. 

You unwrap your legs and slide off of him, but Jake keeps you pressed against the wall. “Don’t fucking move.” He says in a deep voice. It’s now his turn to leave marks of his own on you, your body a blank canvas for the art he’s about to leave on your chest and stomach. His lips glide down the center of your chest as he skillfully unhooks your lingerie and tosses it to the side. “Angel, you’re an angel, so perfect.” He whispers as he starts to wrap his lips around your breast and you hiss out of pleasure when he bites down just above your nipple. He soothes the bite with his tongue before moving to your other side and continuing to kiss, suck, bite, and lip all the way down to below your belly button. He’s firmly holding you in place with his hands, his mouth doing all of the heavy lifting.

“Can I take these off, baby?” He asks with his fingers hooked in the elastic band and you all but rip the last remaining bit of lace off your body on your own.

“Someone’s eager.” Jake chuckles darkly. He starts leaving kisses and nibbles on the insides of your thighs while still holding you against the wall firmly at your hips and you're shaky and quickly losing the ability to stand while Jake continues to paint a canvas across your body.

“Jake,” you whine in a high pitch, “take me upstairs, please baby.” 

He moves his hands from your hips to under your ass and he lifts you with ease again. You start kissing his neck as he carefully navigates up the stairs and he throws you onto your back on his bed. Jake’s immediately on top of you and your hands travel to his boxers, tugging them down. His lips don’t falter against yours as he tosses the last bit of his own clothing to the side.

“Jake, baby, please, I need you.” You beg into his lips as your hands travel down to his cock and you start showing him some attention. Jake moans in response as he feels your hand wrapped around him and your free hand travels to his hair, yanking his face to yours.

“I. Fucking. Need. You.” You groan with gritted teeth and Jake’s chest is pounding as you push him off of you and force him onto his back. You’re in control now, and it’s not something Jake’s used to in bed.

“Jesus sweetheart.” He pants, chest starting to gleam with sweat. You start to kiss and lick down his tanned body, small breaths and whines leaving the back of his throat, until your lips meet the base of his cock. He’s big and beautifully pink, a delicious bead of precum waiting for you at the tip.

“Is this okay baby?” You ask and Jake can hardly get words out. “Please.” He whines and you immediately sink your lips around him, taking him in fully until he’s brushing the back of your throat. “So good for me baby, so good.” He moans and you take his balls in your hand, gently massaging them, as you start to move your lips up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue around the tip. Another whine escapes Jake’s throat involuntarily, he can’t help it, not when he’s been dreaming of a moment like this for three years.

You continue working up and down his cock, sweat pooling on Jake’s forehead and his hands gripping your hair, when his edge is quickly approaching.

“Baby you need to- I’m going to- if you keep.” He shakily gets out, no coherent thought able to make it from his brain to his lips as you suck him off to oblivion and back. You continue your movements until Jake moans your name and you feel him painting the back of your throat with his release. You swallow and slowly let him out of your mouth before kissing your way back up to his lips.

He eagerly greets you with his tongue yet again, small whines coming from both of you as he sits up and you sit in his lap, lips hungrily moving together.

Jake takes two of his fingers and drags them through your dripping core. “Is this all for me baby? What’s got you so worked up?” He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin before he takes those same fingers and wraps his lips around them, eyes rolling back into his head. It’s incredibly filthy and incredibly sexy and-

“If I don’t have you inside of me in the next five minutes, I’m going to fucking die.” You huff and Jake’s eyes open and he takes his fingers out of his mouth, only to wrap his hand around your neck lightly.

“Patience, baby.” He growls lowly. “I’ve been waiting for this for three fucking years and we are going to take our time. Do you understand me?” 

You gulp, this Jake being worlds apart from the whiny man you were sucking off minutes prior. His hand is still lightly wrapped around your neck as you nod. 

“I need you to use your words, sugar.” Jake says, eyes dripping with lust for you. “I understand.” You whisper and Jake leans forward, not moving his hand.

“Do you know what the color system is?” He whispers into your ear and you nod. “Green, keep going, yellow, slow down, and red is a hard stop. What’s your color, sweetheart?”

“Green, fucking green.” You get out shakily, loving the feeling of his large calloused hand clamped around your neck and Jake smiles darkly. “My pretty little baby, our fun isn’t over yet.” He says and he finally removes his hand from your throat only to take fingers from that hand and tease you by swirling around your clit before sliding inside of you. You arch your back and moan loudly and Jake’s loving it. 

“Come on baby, let me hear you. Let me hear that pretty voice sing for me.” He says in a deep voice as his fingers start to work expertly inside of you. Jake’s enjoying this just as much as you are, and his cock is starting to grow hard again at the sounds of your moans and whines and feeling of his fingers pumping inside and around you. His fingers are curling and swirling in ways that feel incredibly sinful and his lips are kissing and biting your stomach and it must be what heaven feels like. 

“I need you to cum for me pretty, can you do that? Filthy girl, I know you want to.” He says with ragged breaths as he works you to your orgasm. You let go and Jake lets out a pleased hum, helping you ride out your pleasure. 

Jake slides up to your lips and tucks hair behind your ear. “Condom, baby?” You shake your head, struggling to find words. “I’m on the pill. Clean. I’m good.” 

Jake grins. “Me too. Are you ready to keep having fun, sugar?” You nod and Jake wraps his hand around your throat again, knowing that you like that.

“Words.” He gets through his gritted teeth.

“Yes baby, please, please I need you, need you inside of me.” You beg and Jake grins before kissing you and dragging your bottom lip down with his teeth.

He lines himself up and pushes himself into you, and you stand corrected. This is what heaven must be like. 

“So fucking tight,” Jake moans, “fuck.” He starts pumping in and out of you, finding a relentless rhythm and you wrap your legs around his torso and start biting on his collarbone and wrapping your hands in his hair. “My pretty little baby, taking my cock so well, I knew you would.” He praises you and you thank him with a kiss to his sweaty bare chest as he continues pounding into you. You know that you’re going to wake up with all sorts of aches after tonight, but it is so worth it.

You whine into Jake’s ear. “Jake, Jakey, I’m close.” 

“Do not cum,” he growls, not sacrificing his pace, “not until I say you can.”

“Please, please, baby,” you whine louder, “Jake, please let me cum. Let me cum all over your cock, baby please.”

Your begging and whining just propels Jake closer and closer to his own orgasm. You wrap your legs around him tighter and yank his hair just a little harder and he manages to get out, “Come on baby, cum for me.” 

You moan and finish with him inside of you and he’s right there with you. The feeling of him finishing, his release filling you up, and then him pulling out slowly is one that you hope you’ll get to experience again and again.

Jake collapses next to you and rolls onto his side, planting a small kiss on your lips. You lay together for a moment, completely still except for your chests moving up and down, trying to breathe normally again. Jake finds his footing and gets up, returning moments later with a warm washcloth. He carefully cleans you up and then himself and tosses the washcloth into his hamper. 

He walks back over to you and smiles. “Come on baby, let’s take a shower.” Jake says softly as he looks down at you in your completely fucked-out state.

You allow him to gently pull you off of his bed and he carries you to his bathroom, carefully setting you on the counter while he grabs towels and starts the water. 

Jake allows you to get in the shower first and the two of you stand under the water together, facing each other. You tilt your head up for a kiss and Jake presses his lips to yours and pulls back slightly. 

“Can I wash your hair for you, sweetheart?” He asks and you smile at him, never having been with someone that took care of you like this before. 

“Yes please.” You say in a small voice and Jake smiles as he grabs shampoo and puts some in his hair and yours. His fingers are like magic as they work the shampoo into your scalp, and your eyes fall shut. Jake giggles. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet.” He teases and you open one eye to playfully glare at him. 

Jake helps rinse the shampoo out of your hair and puts conditioner in it next. While that sits on both of your heads, he lathers up some soap and starts gently running his hands all over your body, leaving soft kisses in the places that water rinses you off. His touch is so gentle and caring. 

Once you both are all set, he dries you off, pressing more little kisses to your shoulders, chest, and hips, and then hands you a tshirt of his. You smile fondly at the worn cotton and pull it over your head before brushing your hair and getting ready for bed. 

Both of you collapse onto Jake’s bed, and he pulls you into him immediately. “Come here sweetheart, let’s get cozy.” He mumbles. Sleep is quickly coming for both you and him. Settling into his warm chest, you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you with a tired smile on his face. 

“Goodnight Jake.” You whisper and he gives you one last kiss before wishing you sweet dreams. 

•

•

The morning sun is peeking in through the windows and Jake wakes up before you do. He looks down at your sleeping figure curled up into him. Seeing you peacefully sleeping against him while wearing his shirt is something he wishes he could start every day with. He brushes hair out of your face and starts running his fingers lightly down your back. 

“Good morning sweetheart.” He says when your eyes start to open. “How did you sleep?”

You groan and stretch and curl up deeper into Jake’s side. He smiles at how cute you are when you’re sleepy. “So good,” you mumble, “you make a good pillow.” He smiles adoringly at you. 

You stay snuggled up to Jake for a few minutes and then lean up to give him a kiss once fully awake. “What are you up to today?” You ask him.

He shrugs. “Nothing really.”

You nod. “Same here.” You aren’t ready to leave Jake yet, and you have a suspicion that he feels the same. 

Jake looks over at you. “Stay with me. Please. I’ll make us breakfast and we can go to the farmer’s market. I don’t want you to leave yet.”

“I don’t want to leave either.” You say softly and the corners of his lips turn up. 

“Okay, I’ll get a head start on breakfast while you get ready.” Before you can offer to help, he places a quick kiss on your forehead and darts out of his room. 

You take a few minutes to put yourself together, and by the time you head downstairs, Jake’s almost done making pancakes and bacon. The sight of him standing in his kitchen, only in his boxers, is nearly enough to make you start drooling. 

“Hey, can you grab syrup and chocolate chips from the pantry?” He asks when he hears you walk in and you rifle through the items in the pantry until you find both. 

“Do you put both syrup and chocolate chips on your pancakes, Jake?” You ask, setting both on the counter. 

He breaks his concentration from the pancakes and turns around with a tiny grin. “I’ve told you before, I have a sweet tooth.”

You smile and grab plates and silverware and Jake puts food on both plates. You sit at his kitchen table together, eating breakfast and watching squirrels and birds in his backyard. It’s all so comfortable and natural, and you feel so at home with him. 

Jake quickly gets ready and you wash the breakfast dishes while you wait. He slips downstairs and a pair of hands find their way around your waist. “Ready to head out?” He asks lowly in your ear. 

You spin around and nod. He plants a single kiss on your lips before you both head out and get in his Jeep.

Jake plugs his phone in and puts his Spotify on shuffle. It’s a quick drive to the farmer’s market and the two of you sing along goofily to the songs playing. 

“I know we’re not really trying right now, but you do have a beautiful voice, Jake,” you tell him and his eyebrows raise and cheeks flush, “you should sing more.”

He clears his throat, clearly shy. “Um, maybe.” He nervously chuckles. It tugs at your heartstrings, knowing that he’s so musically gifted in so many ways, but he’s not as confident when it comes to singing. 

You reach over to grab his hand and he laces his fingers with yours for the rest of the drive. 

The farmer’s market is busy, and you get out of the car and the smell of flowers from a nearby stand instantly hits you and you close your eyes and smile. Jake matches your smile as he watches you open your eyes and turn to him. “Ready?” He asks and you nod, heading towards the crowd of people.

Jake insists that you stop first at the flowers, and he grabs a pretty bunch of wildflowers. You object, but he insists on getting them for you. “Thank you Jake,” you say as you hold them close to your face, “these are so gorgeous.”

He moves his sunglasses up and his eyes are glowing as he looks down at you. “You remind me of wildflowers, you know. They’re vibrant and full of personality. And beautiful.”

Your cheeks darken and you and look up at him. “You’re making me blush, Jacob.”

He chuckles and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. “Good, you make me blush all the fucking time.”  You giggle and start walking, flowers in hand. Jake puts his sunglasses back on and walks next to you. 

The two of you slowly walk through the aisles of stands. It’s crowded, people nearly bumping into each other constantly, and Jake brushes his hand against yours. You think it might have been an accident due to the close proximity you’re forced into, but it happens again and he tries to catch your pinky finger. You pull your hand away. 

“Jake, we can’t, what if someone recognizes you?” You whisper quietly and his heart sinks a little. All he wants is to be yours, in public and in private, he doesn’t care what people think or may see. 

“I don’t care.” He whispers back, trying to catch your eyes, but you are looking ahead and keeping your hand away from his, holding the flowers in front of you with both hands. 

You aren’t even together, hell it’s only been a week and a half since you cut his hair and he invited you to hang out, but there’s a piece of him that’s hurt that you aren’t holding his hand in public when you are kissing and touching each other constantly when no one else is around. 

Neither of you say a word as you traipse through the rest of the market and make your way back to his Jeep. You silently get in and stare straight ahead, hands folded in your lap. Jake looks at you and sighs quietly, taking his sunglasses off.

“I meant it. I don’t care if someone sees me holding your hand.” He says, his tone laced with a little bit of hurt.

You turn to look at him. “I care, Jake. I don’t want to cause issues for you.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s really okay, I promise. I’m not really stopped in public that often anyways.” He hesitantly moves to grab one of your hands and you let him. He kisses the back of your hand and looks at you. “I like touching you.” He says plainly and you have to stifle a giggle at his forwardness.

“I know, you’re the touchiest person I’ve ever met in my entire life.” You pull your hand back and give him a smirk. “I don’t mind it though.” 

He grins at you and leans forward while tapping his lips, silently asking for a kiss and proving your point. You lean forward too and press a sweet kiss to his lips. 

Jake doesn’t say anything about how he wishes he could be touching you constantly, how he daydreams about what life could look like with you, how he wishes he was fucking you in the backseat of his Jeep right now, how he desperately wants to call you his and his only. He doesn’t want to scare you with his intensity, but little does he know that you’re starting to feel the same way about him. 

“All good? Ready to head out?” He asks instead of revealing any of his thoughts to you and you nod. 

After a few minutes of driving with music quietly playing, Jake pulls back into his driveway and turns to look at you. “I’m guessing you’re going to head home?” He asks. You can tell he wants you to stay, but you have your weekend errands to run, and you also want some down time to yourself before launching into yet another week at work.

You nod in response to his question and grab one of his hands in both of yours. “Thank you again for yesterday Jake, it’s been fun hanging out with you. And thank you again for the flowers.” 

He gives you a small smile and leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s do something this week or next weekend too, yeah?”

You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “I’d like that.” You say softly. You lean forward to kiss him. “Text me.” You say as you get out of his Jeep and he grins. “Bye sweetheart, see you soon.” He says and you wave as you get into your car and pull out of his driveway.

Jake watches you drive away and he leans back in his seat, making no effort to go inside his house. Despite the tiny bit of awkwardness earlier, he smiles as he reflects on the last 18 hours spent with you. He hasn’t felt this happy and his heart hasn’t been so full in a long, long time. 

Good things are happening. I just need to be patient. 

•

•

TAGLIST: @reesetrippingthelight @spark-my-nature

[call-me-eds]

Bathtime

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

Fluff, fluff, fluff with our boy Eddie.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean never?”

“Well, I’m sure I had some in the sink as a baby, but nothing else that I can remember.” 

He had to be joking. There was no way your boyfriend had never taken a bath.

“Well with my parents I would be slapped silly if I used that much water. When I moved in with Wayne, he doesn’t have a tub. So no baths for little ol’ me,” he shrugged.

Oh, you were going to need to change this.

Weekends were usually reserved for you and Eddie, but you separated right after dinner on Sundays unless there was a concert or special event going on. You had to wind down for the beginning of the week, and one of your favorite ways to do that was by taking a bath. A couple of candles lit, bubbles almost pouring over the edge, a good book, and an uninterrupted hour of calming rejuvenation. 

Eddie never getting to experience that was a travesty, it was an injustice! How did you never know this about him? You immediately jumped into action.

Less than a week went by since you found out the most disturbing thing Eddie could possibly be hiding about himself. You went to the store on Thursday night to get some new body scrubs, a black loofah, and even an essential oil variety pack. You were a tea tree person, but thought Eddie would prefer a lighter scent.

There wasn’t a person who you could think of that deserved a night of relaxation more than your boyfriend. He had been putting in an immense amount of work lately: overtime at the garage, helping Uncle Wayne repair the roof after his shifts, and always making time for you amid his campaigns. It would be exhausting for anyone, much less someone who had been having trouble sleeping because the moonlight came right through the thin ceiling above his bed. That was the last part of the roof they’d be fixing.

So you were bringing him to Steve’s for a romantic evening. An oxymoron, you realized, but there was no way your parents would let your boyfriend take a bath in your house, and you’d be far too uncomfortable to even think of it. Steve’s was the next best option, even if it was your only one. 

“I thought you said there was a party,” Eddie questioned as you walked up to the seemingly quiet house. Steve opened the door with a smug smile. 

“Well, good evening,” he said, stepping aside so you could walk in. “Bathroom for two, right? The deluxe package?”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie was still confused, not having any idea what your plan really was. 

“Aw you kept it a surprise? That’s so sweet,” Robin’s voice from the couch drew your attention to the living room. You were hoping she’d be there. Now, if you stayed with Eddie, the thought of Steve alone downstairs wouldn’t be in the back of your minds. If Eddie preferred to be alone, you and Steve wouldn’t be awkwardly sharing the couch with the thought of him naked upstairs at the forefront of your minds for very different reasons.

“Kept what a surprise? What’s happening, are you going to beat me up or something?” Eddie asked, impatience in his voice.

“I’ll show you,” you smiled, grabbing his hand. “Be back down in a bit,” you promised Steve and Robin. He saluted you and she winked, turning back towards the large TV and making Eddie even more bewildered.

It took a lot of self control for you not to run up the stairs, so excited to give Eddie the gift of peace. You reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the lighter you knew was there. He rolled his eyes while you slunk into the bathroom, making him wait in the hallway. The candles you handed off to Steve earlier weren’t lit and the tub empty; you wanted Eddie to walk into pure serenity. After a minute, you were ready for him.

“Okay! Come in.” The door was slowly pushed open and bashfulness quickly enveloped you. He fully stepped inside and looked around at the candles, the freshly filled tub, and you standing in the very middle of it all. 

“What is this?” he asked, reaching out for your hand. You took hold for a moment before letting go, sliding your hands up his chest to slip his jacket off of his shoulders.

“I wanted you to experience a proper bath, not in the sink,” you shrugged, playing this off like you were giving him a candy bar, as if you weren’t doing the nicest thing for him anyone ever had.

“Oh,” he breathed, letting the leather fall from him to a heap on the floor. Vulnerability was in the air, thicker than the smoke from the candles.

“I can go downstairs with Steve and Robin if you want some privacy,” you said, hoping he would tell you not to go. He didn’t say it, but the way he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest was clear enough. His fingers scratched your back gently and you weaved yours into his hair, hoping that he’d let you braid it later.

Eddie was holding you with a soft pressure, tight enough to feel his heart beating, but soft enough to slip out of his grasp if you wanted to. Like that would happen.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling his head back enough to press his lips to yours. Like his grasp, it was firm but sweet, and left you wanting so much more. With Eddie, most things you wanted he gave with no hesitation, but some things you had to take.

You grabbed the front of his shirt and brought him closer, hoping to get enough traction against him to part his lips with your own. He opened them eagerly and you licked into his mouth, tasting the cigarettes and licorice that he was incessantly eating to try and combat the nicotine cravings. 

Eddie groaned, his emotion pouring through his fingers that dug into your waist. He was able to push you back a step so you were leaning against the sink. The coolness against your back made you suck in a breath, but it probably was more due to Eddie.

The noise of a movie starting up on the floor below you snuck its way into Eddie’s ear, but your whine quickly drowned it out. His hand was inching up your shirt, but once he heard the microwave beeping, he was past the point of return.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he pulled away, breathing hard. “Baby, this is so nice, but honestly all I am thinking about right now is Harrington and Buckley downstairs.” You nodded and took a deep breath, resting your forehead against his chest. You stood there in silence for a moment, calming your heart rates. They were rarely at a normal level when you were together, though.

“The water’s going to get cold,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Are these things supposed to be warm? You have to teach me, remember?” he teased. You grinned and untangled your arms from his. 

“Well step number one is usually to take off your clothes,” you said, making him blush a bit. He never would imagine denying you the task of removing his clothes, and when you slightly pushed him off of you he forgot why for a second. “I’ll be downstairs, okay?”

“Hold on,” he reached out to grab his wrist before you could open the door. “You can still stay. There’s no reason you shouldn’t get to relax, too. Especially after you did all of this for me,” he said. Truthfully, he would feel even more exposed if you left him alone right now. He’d rather have Steve and Robin think that the two of you were hooking up in Steve’s bathroom than know the three of you were downstairs while he was taking a bath. 

“Okay,” you smiled, kissing him softly one more time before separating fully. The water was still warm, but you let it drain for a few seconds so you could fill it with fresh, piping hot water. 

The fabric collecting on an unfamiliar bathroom floor while you two undressed looked out of place, it made you feel like you were doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Eddie was still fumbling with his shoelaces when you tied your hair up to keep it out of the water. You dipped your toe in, immediately shuddering at the change in temperature from the cool air. A sigh escaped from your lips when you lowered yourself into the tub, even larger than the one you had at home. Eddie’s eyes snapped to you and he half-regretted his decision to keep the night PG-13. 

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” you smiled, scooting all the way back against the shower wall. Eddie tentatively put one foot in the water, hissing a bit at the hot temperature. As soon as he had both legs in, though, any tension on his face disappeared like it was never there at all.

He sat opposite of you and smiled, settling in just fine. 

“This feels good,” he said, tapping his hands on the side of the bath and getting a bit of water on the floor from the movement of his arms. You didn’t completely think through how his fidgety demeanor would combine with a large volume of water and an expensive bath mat right over the edge.

“Chill,” you said, grabbing his hands and forcing them together. He sheepishly grinned and started to check out all of the products on the porcelain. His nose scrunched up like a dog’s when he sniffed the bubble bath too closely, and he had to focus not to sneeze.

“Want to put some in?” you asked, leaning forward to take it from him. He nodded like you thought he would. “Come here,” you grabbed his shoulders to swivel him around so his back was against your chest. The liquid poured into the bath, and you instructed Eddie to swish it around with his hand and let the water run for a few seconds to encourage the bubbles to grow. You switched the water off and leaned back again, pulling Eddie with you.

“Am I crushing you?” he asked, turning his head to face you. You just shook your head and closed your eyes, leaning your head back; now that Eddie was acclimated, you were beginning to fall under the familiar spell. 

He was no match for the relief hugging him on all sides. Goosebumps appeared on his arms where you traced up and down with a light touch, and he swore he was in heaven.

“Feel good, Honey?” you asked, barely whispering. He nodded and let out a deep sigh, almost like what he sounded like when he was sleeping, and slid down your body so he was covered in water up to his neck.

“I think I could live here,” he admitted. “You’d get awful pruny,” you laughed, picking up his hand and feeling how soft his skin was already becoming. He slipped his fingers in between yours and clasped them together. When you breathed in, his chest rose from on top of you, it felt like you were one being. Four legs were entangled to become two, you weren’t sure where Eddie ended and you began.

The water began to cool after a while, and you pushed Eddie’s shoulder so he sat up and you could grab the new body wash you bought. The woodsy scent filled the air, and you brought the bottle to Eddie’s nose so he could fully smell it before squirting it on the loofah. Softly, you pressed it into his skin and started to clean him.

It wasn’t sexual, but still extremely intimate.

The soap suds were spreading across his back in places that he could not reach, only hoping that the low water pressure from his showers was getting them clean enough. He kept making over-exaggerated groaning noises and leaning back so you had to use one arm to keep him propped forward and the other to wash him.

“Stop,” you laughed softly, happy that there was an enormous amount of joy in this moment. 

“I can’t, you’re putting me to sleep,” Eddie said, grabbing your hand as it came up over his shoulder and bringing your wrist to his lips. He placed a few soft kisses to your skin before sticking his tongue out in disgust, having gotten soap in his mouth. 

“I’m almost done,” you promised, blindly moving the loofah up and down his abdomen and chest. He nodded and continued to let you service him. 

“Hand me the shampoo?” you asked after a quick swipe of his legs, awkward from his refusal to move even an inch, claiming his bones were jelly.

“Is this Harrington’s nasty shit that’s going to stiff my hair up like cement?” he asked, looking at the bottle as if he would be able to recognize it.

“No, I got this just for you,” you said. The small cup you brought from your own shower was at the ready, filled with clean water. You pressed your hand gently to Eddie’s forehead, asking him to lead his head back so you could pour the water over it. Once you started working your fingers into his scalp, he really was convinced he reached nirvana. 

Gentle but firm, you focused on your massage technique. The lather of the shampoo was developed enough, but you didn’t want to separate from Eddie as much as he wanted to stay connected to you. When you did pull your hand away to help wash away the suds, you were both comforted by the thought of the hairbrush coming soon after.

After working in conditioner to his ends, like you tried to teach him to do so many times, the ritual was over. 

“Okay, your time at the salon has come to an end. Please don’t forget to take a mint and make another appointment before you leave,” you joked, standing up and patting Eddie on the shoulders. “What? No,” he frowned. “Let me wash you next,” he suggested. No matter how badly you wanted that, and how hard it was to refuse him while he pawed at your legs and looked up at you with his intense eyes, the evening was all about pampering him.

“Next time, okay?” you said, unplugging the drain and letting the water swirl away. You quickly rinsed off and grabbed the two freshly washed towels on the sink. It took quite a bit of convincing to get Steve to run them in the dryer again before you got there so Eddie would have warm towels.

“Next time?” he asked, holding your hand to steady you as you stepped out of the tub first. You wrapped one towel around yourself before grabbing the spare. Just a nod, that’s what you gave him, and that’s all he needed. He’d buy a tub and go to plumbing school if it meant getting to do this with you again. 

The soft towel you were rubbing over him collected the spare droplets of water, but the feeling of your fingers beneath it was taking all of his sensation.

“I got that,” he chuckled, taking it from you when you went to kneel on the floor and wipe down his legs. You smiled and he dried off quickly, taking less care with himself than you did. Once the towel was securely around his waist, you were taking the pile of his clean clothes from the seemingly enchanted counter, filled with more than he had in his entire bathroom.

“I am going to clean up, go downstairs and relax,” you said.

Steve was happy to let you use the bathroom for the night, as long as you promised it would be spotless when you were done. He didn’t want a remnant of the two of you left, as he had put it. It was fair enough, you didn’t want to equip anyone with evidence of your special evening together, either.

“Let me help,” he urged, ignoring the clothes you had outstretched to him and starting to pick up the things he knew you brought.

“No!” you said. “This is all for you, and I know there’s nothing you hate more than tidying up. Get dressed, go downstairs, and I will be down there soon.” The look you were giving him left no room to argue, so he settled for an eye roll while he took his clothes from your hand. There was another set of his clothes on the counter, but he knew better than to take your favorites of his.

You dressed beside each other in silence, except for the giggles when the tail of Eddie’s towel smacked you after he put his hair up.

“Okay, go,” you lightly tapped his butt to get him out of the bathroom. 

“Thank you,” he said, kissing you softly before leaving you to clean up. The moment he left the bathroom, the spell you both were under evaporated with the steam on the mirror once the door opened.

Your hands moved in a whirlwind, wanting to finish up and be downstairs with everyone. In record time, you scrubbed the bathtub, emptied the drain, and returned all of Steve’s products to their original spots. You left him one of the candles you bought, partially because you didn’t feel like wasting the time to unpack and repack the bag where you shoved everything to make the last one fit. 

The carpet almost tripped you, but you scurried down the stairs once you were done. Eyes snapped to you as the items in your arms clattered to the counter.

“If there is a single hair, from the head or otherwise-”

“Disgusting!” Robin cut Steve off, moving over on the couch to make room for you. She didn’t need to, Eddie moved from his spot in between the two of them, going right to the floor. He practically ripped the towel from his head and held a hairbrush out to you. You smiled, climbing over Steve’s legs propped up on the coffee table so you could sit on the couch above Eddie. 

“Mm, your hands are like magic,” he groaned. There were gagging noises from either side of you, but you refused to take your hands away from Eddie’s scalp to calm them. Eddie kept his mouth shut after that, just enjoying your fingers weaving through his hair, braiding it meticulously down his back.

When you were done and he stood up, you expected him to wrap you in his arms and take his spot back on the couch, seating you between his legs, but he just extended his hand out to you.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, knowing what you wanted just as much as you did. You nodded and took his hand, letting him help pull you up. 

“You’re not going to stay? Just use my stuff and leave?” Steve asked.

“Pretty much,” you smiled, ruffling his hair as you walked by.

“Seriously, they don’t want to hang out with us losers,” Robin said, smiling and nodding you along to encourage you. 

“We do, how’s tomorrow?” you asked. Eddie hoisted your bag on his shoulder, not stopping for anything to accomplish his goal of being alone with you once again as quickly as possible. You thought that you’d be spending more time at Steve’s house as well, but you were on the exact same page as Eddie, down to the line. 

“Great, we’ll go to the bowling alley or something,” she said.

“No boys allowed,” you nodded, expecting to hear protest from Eddie, but he just picked up his keys and took a few big steps to be back at your side. “If my mom calls-”

“I’ll intercept the call, you’re at my house,” she nodded. You didn’t have to thank her, she knew you appreciated it more than you could express.

“Alright, get out of here,” Steve said, getting up to lock the door behind the two of you. You quickly hugged Robin, giving her your thanks anyway, before going to the front door.

“This was so nice of you, Steve, really. If the cleaning isn’t up to standard-”

“I’m sure it’s the cleanest it’s been in months,” he waved you off. Behind the jokes and the snide comments, Steve really was one of the biggest supporters of your relationship. His friends were happy, and that was all he wanted.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie was simple with it, but Steve knew. The door shut behind you and the fresh air filled your lungs.

“Want me to drive?” you asked. Eddie laughed and shook his head. “You have done more than enough for me tonight,” he dropped the bag in the backseat of the van and you climbed in, giddy with the night. 

There were few things that you loved more than being able to do things like this for Eddie. Anyone could get him a new tape or sit with him through a tattoo, but he wouldn’t let just anyone care for him so intensely. When you first started dating he wouldn’t even ask you to bring over a box of tissues and some cough drops when he had the flu, just suffered in silence to curb the fear of being a burden.

Now, he was letting you bathe with him, bathe him. Through you, Eddie discovered he really, really liked being taken care of, but not as much as he liked doing things to take care of you.

“How about when we get back,” he started, turning the ignition on and starting the quick drive to the trailer. “I put on some music and we just lay in bed for the rest of the night.”

“That sounds perfect,” you nodded, and it really did. 

It was doubtful that the closeness you felt in the Harrington’s bathroom could ever be recreated. If it took laying in bed with the boy you were in love with, sharing whispered hopes, desires, and admissions to try, though, you were more than a willing participant. 

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Can you share some snippet? I still have in the back of my mind that there is a chance that you will be able to finish writing this by the end of December and I absolutely can't wait and I find myself thinking about it all the time

I'm glad your excited! I'm working really hard to try to make that date and I do plan on posting updates as i make significant progress so those will definitely help you know when I'm getting close.

And you can absolutely have a snippet! I want to give this one some context though. A little while back I found myself wanting to re write/expand on what I had originally written in Cabin. I realized that wasn't the best idea but that I could use flashbacks that Spider has while recovering to further detail everything that happened in the cabin so this is that. Enjoy!

******************************************************************

    He thought that it was around the fourth or fifth night when Quaritch walked through his door carrying a small metal tub and a pile of pillows. “What’s that for?” Spider asked, his stomach twisting into knots.

   “Medieval torture,” Quaritch’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He chuckled as his son’s eyes grew wide with horror, not fully believing that he was just joking. “Relax, you just need a bath. You're starting to smell.”

    Heat rose to Spider’s face at the prospect of this new found indignity. “Don’t,” he gasped out, fighting to steady his voice, “don’t touch me!” Quaritch just shook his head. “Please, let me up. I’m sure you’ve got a shower here somewhere. Just let me use that! I’ll be quick. Five minutes, I promise! I promise I won’t try anything. Please, please don’t….”

   “Why are you so embarrassed,” Quaritch calmly cut him off, “I’m your father. I used to give you baths in the kitchen sink for christ sake. I was there when you were born, kid. I have cared and cleaned up after you since day one. You’ve got nothin’ to be ashamed of around me.”

   “That was then! I’m not a kid anymore…” Quaritch outright laughed at him. “I’m fifteen!”

   “You're delusional if you think being fifteen makes you not a kid. Now quit your bitchin’.” Quaritch approached, grabbing Spider by his underarms, raising him up as far as the restraints would allow. Pillows were stuffed underneath him, keeping him upright. Then Quaritch pulled up a chair, wasting no time in taking one of the thin braids that framed Spider’s face in hand, slipping off the small silicon band that held it in place, and unraveling the plate. “Stop!” Spider screamed, jerking his head away, not caring that the hair still in Quaritch’s hold was pulled roughly from his sudden movement.

   Quaritch sighed, “your hair is a greasy mess. It needs to be washed…”

   “Don’t touch me!” Spider couldn’t stand it when people touched his hair. Too many foster parents criticizing and getting frustrated with him over his “ugly” curls, that he didn’t know how to care for, and they didn’t have the patience to help him with. It usually led to yelling, bad haircuts, and hating his own reflection. It had taken Neytiri and Mo’at months of them gently coaxing him, to allow them to help with his hair. But once they did, it had been amazing. Spider nearly cried as they patiently cared for every last loc, braiding his hair in the intricate style of the Omatikaya. After that, Spider was sat down every Sunday like all the other Sully children to have his hair washed and styled for the week. And now Quaritch was destroying it. 

    Quaritch sighed. It seemed like he was expecting this reaction, remaining calm in the face of Spider’s yelling and thrashing. “It’s okay son.” He tried to stroke his cheek but Spider pulled away, hissing like an animal. “Miles…”

   “That’s not my name!”

    His father was unfazed patiently saying, “yes it is. Your mother and I gave it to you. No way in hell I’m callin’ y’a by the name of a pathetic bug.” Spider snarled at the disrespect of his chosen name. Quaritch was as stoic as ever, standing from his seat, leaning over Spider to take another one of his braids. He tried to rear back as far as he could but it was no use. Quaritch had him pinned. The man reached for the thick braid that ran down the length of Spider’s back, slipping off the elastic band that bound it. “Stop,” Spider didn’t even care if he sounded like he was begging now. He wanted this stranger’s  hands off of him. He wanted to preserve what could possibly be the last thing that tied him to the Sully family. “Stop, please!” Quaritch’s hand was at the side of his head now, undoing the plaits close to his scalp. “Please….” Spider was sobbing, fat tears running down his face. He felt so utterly humiliated. So vulnerable and pathetic.

   “Shhhh…it’s okay,” Quaritch’s voice was heartbreakingly gentle. He ran a hand through Spiders now loose hair in an attempt at comfort. It only made Spider cry harder, his breath coming out in shuttering gasps. Quaritch continued to shh him while taking small sections of his locs, carefully combing them out. And it felt nice. To his horror it was the same level of care that Netyri and Mo’at had shown him. The comparison made him sick to his stomach.    

Spider felt dead inside as Quaritch brushed his hair until there wasn’t a single tangle left. He checked out as he was lowered down, his head placed in a basin of warm water. And damn it all, it felt nice, the firm messaging of his scalp as his hair was washed, the affectionate scratches. It felt nice. And he hated every second of it…

[ahjdaily]

4 Tracks That Inspire Albert Hammond Jr:

The Strokes guitarist and solo artist reveals four tunes that give him a sense of clarity

Written by Florian Obkircher · Published on 12.06.2023 · 7:56 PDT

In April this year, Albert Hammond Jr – guitarist and singer-songwriter with Grammy-winning New York City rockers The Strokes, and a solo artist since 2016 – played with the band in Minneapolis.

After the show, they listened to one of his playlists. First there was a track by minimalist composer Philip Glass, followed by Nick Lowe’s 1978 hit I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass, which prompted Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti to ask if there was an intentional theme. “I was like, ‘No, but I should keep this going – it seems fun,’” recalls Hammond Jr, now 43. To mark the release of his fifth solo album, Melodies on Hiatus, here he does exactly that.

↓ Full playlist under the break ↓

NICK LOWE: I LOVE THE SOUND OF BREAKING GLASS (1978)

© Radar Records

“While renovating my house, I stayed in Villa Carlotta, this cool apartment building in LA where a lot of musicians and actors stay. I became friends with the musician Joy Downer, and she had this on her playlist. I was like, ‘Wow, what is this?’ I love Nick Lowe, but I wasn’t aware of [this song]. It’s so cool when you discover a song you didn’t know by someone you like.”

BLONDIE: HEART OF GLASS (1978)

© Chrysalis

“In our early days, we got referenced to some bands I didn’t really listen to until other people said it – [bands] like Blondie. Blondie are great, and it’s so cool to see them still play. When you’re younger, you want to live fast, die young. Then you get older and you realise it’s so exciting to keep creating and changing, and what you lose with age you gain in wisdom and ability.”

PHILIP GLASS: STRING QUARTET NO. 3 (1985)

© Hyperion Records

“I do sauna and ice baths with friends every Sunday. One time in the sauna, this [track] came on and, even though I’m a huge Philip Glass fan, I didn’t know it. I fell in love with it instantly! It’s a song I usually put on every playlist, because it cleanses the palate of anything, and it’s fun to listen to when you’re driving at night. It’s inspirational for creating, too, if you’re in a lull period.”

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: GLASS (2009)

© RCA , Cult Records

“This is a song from [Strokes singer] Julian’s first solo record that I’ve always loved. He’s amazing at melody, Even if I don’t know what he’s saying sometimes, the word combination with the melody always brings melancholy. He’s really good at hitting you with little things that reflect your life. So regardless of what he’s saying, you’re having thoughts about your own life.”

[bereft-of-frogs]

a weekend list, composed on my lunch hour—

- read some sea horror tales for the rest of my lunch break

- 3.5 hours left of work

- wash dishes (I’ve been really pretty good about doing them every day, skipped last night out of laziness)

- run errand

- make dinner

- FINISH SECOND DRAFT 🎉

- full read through

saturday—

- it’s supposed to be rainy (what a surprise.) so I’m just planning on having a chill do-nothing day

- prioritize the last two classic ocean horror movies that seem to be mentioned a lot: Leviathan (1989) and DeepStar Six (also 1989 everyone got possessed by the ocean in 1989 omg…)

- play video games/knit/take a bath/drink wine etc etc etc

sunday—

- clean apartment/grocery shop

- should be nice, if a little cool. Maybe go to a grocery store or terrace or something

- draft summaries / start the daunting task of formatting chapters for ao3 / gather reference links that need to be linked / pick banners

Next week I’ll probably focus on grammar/spelling/detail edits……and also hyping myself up a bit because no one is going to do it for me 😅 So preparing for me to be annoying excited about some ocean horror more than usual next week.

[deliriumsdelight7]

Give me a snippet, please! You wonderful human being. ❤️ I've been over the moon ever since you posted your Six Sentence Sunday post. But remember to take care of yourself, too!

I’m so glad you’re excited for this! I’m excited to get this chapter up. Doing my best to take care of myself, and only try to make words when my brain is up for it. Here you go!

Over on the cot, he heard Belle whimper. Risking a glance at her, he froze, brow knit in worry. Bae had bathed and bandaged her wounds with an expert hand that lit a quiet glow of pride in Rumpel’s chest. The torn, bloodied remains of her chemise preserved her modesty as she tossed and turned. Her cheeks burned a deep pink with fever. Rumpel watched in quiet despair as Bae refreshed the damp cloth on her brow, using a second to dab at her dry, overheated skin.

Fear churned in Rumpel’s belly. Time. He was running out of time. He needed to get this right if Belle was to have a hope of surviving the night with her humanity intact.

With a wave of his hand, the ruined potion disappeared, and he started again.

[sparkles-and-trash]

little things I’m grateful for atm 💞

I finished all my christmas shopping yesterday, and stayed within budget!

I’ve cleaned my whole apartment today, and I’m not as wiped out afterwards as I usually am!

I have freshly washed sheets, so going to sleep tonight will be amazing!

I’m currently taking a very relaxing lavender bath, I’m so grateful to have my bathtub in general as it is amazing for my chronic pain!

After dinner I’m gonna be wrapping said christmas presents, and I love doing that!

It’s raining today, which for some reason makes both Touya and Zelder extra cuddly and sweet???

I’m planning on getting some light tumblr writing done tomorrow, and maybe I’ll have the time to open requests for a few weeks too!

Tomorrow one of my best friends and my new friend (her old friend) are coming over for horror movie night!

Saturday I’m gonna decorate for christmas!

Sunday I’m gonna go to my friend’s house and get some time with her and her kids, whom I adore so, so much!

Next week I’m gonna catch up with two friends I haven’t seen in a long time and whom I’ve missed a lot!

I have a bunch of christmas activites and traditions planned with friends and family for December that I’m super excited for!

Happiness can be the simple things, and these few days have been, and will be, full of them, and I’m so grateful for it 💖

[oncasette]

KING’s CROSSING.

happy sleepover sunday my sweet pea!! <33

i’ve been v v lazy today and rounded up my fics and posted the ‘seb’s soft sunday’. i’m feeling sooo sleepy but i’m gonna have a really big and tasty curry with my partner tonight!! i’m currently all wrapped up in my blankets and i might have a lil nap, maybe a bath later too!! i’ve got some long fics i’m v excited to read.

tell me about you and your day my sweet pea!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

that’s so lovely!! everyone deserves those warm sleepy sundays!!

my days been good so far! i finished final girl support group by grady hendrix a couple nights ago (he’s my fav & i love him but this wasn’t my fav of his) so i started gone girl this morning. i’m planning on starting my harry potter marathon here in a little bit so that’s exciting!! a bunch of my friends are at universal right now so they said they’d bring me back a souvenir from harry potter world <3

[exd1000]

Day 24: Part 1.

Woke up early and went to work out. Just showered. Gonna read a bit. Idk when we’re gonna head to the range but I’m excited! Need to pull my cards but today should be chill. Sunday we have a little morning hikey (after my workout) and I’m excited to take baby Benji with me. He’s gonna get so dirty but I’ll give him a bath after. Then Tuesday I have an early surf sesh (SO EXCITED FOR THAT TBH). I’m already so freaking tan I’m gonna get so much more tan with all these outings lmao. And tonight’s a full moon! It’s gonna be absolutely gorgeous (like the last few nights too).

Okay I’m excited headed to the range rn 🤪🫶.

So I got to shoot with a 22mm, 9mm, 45mm, red laser, and rifle! It was insane. We were like decked out with the gear too. It was pretty cool. I love going to the range haha.

Part 2 is on the private blog. It’s about the one guy who’s been trying to get at me.

—

Tbh I’m still really anxious and weary that he will try to pop back in or find me and read my blog. I really pray that that’s not the case anymore and will not ever be moving forward. I pray that we will never be involved in each other’s life anymore. I really want nothing to do with bad people like him and I really don’t want him knowing anything about me even when it comes to mundane things like this. I know it’s only been like a week or so but I’ve been doing really well and I’m feeling really secure and confident and happy with everything in life. I even found “love” (I guess haha) that makes me feel so secure and safe. With him it was just a shitshow and tbh I really don’t care whatever path he falls in anymore or continues to keep repeating I should say (by the looks of it it wasn’t like he was doing anything good for himself anyway). And tbh being dragged into that trying as best as I could to help give him that support in that situation when he wasn’t even helping himself and making it as if I was the issue was draining. It’s just pointless at that point and age. I do have really amazing and loving energy but not for him never again. If he wants to continue making shitty choices then good for him I honestly couldn’t care less anymore but I want nothing to do with him and bc I don’t want him involved or to find me I’m going to take a break from this blog for a bit (rather than change my user bc I love it haha). Besides tmr bc I’ll end it on the 25th day 🤪

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1987 Tonight’s New Year’s Eve. Another year has gone by.

I woke up early and straightened up a bit. I changed the pig’s cage. They’ll need more food and sawdust today. I think I’ll buy them cedarwood. It lasts longer and smells good. I’ll be gone 10 days so it has to last. Crystal will feed them and give them water while I’m gone.

Speaking of Crystal, she is one hell of a good roommate. I only wish she was a little neater.

Kevin is supposed to drive Crystal and I down to Salem to see Tammy, but Crystal never came home last night. She’s probably with her abusive boyfriend, Mike.

We have a lot of fun together, Crystal and me. Last night she said, “I feel like I’ve known you for years.” I feel that way too. I just hope to hell she shows up to go to Tammy’s. I have a feeling she’ll forget. Maybe I’ll just go with Kevin, although I really want Crystal to go, too.

I wonder if 1988 will be my lucky year. I know, however, that this is the year I am going to hear out of both ears.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1987 Crystal has finally moved in. She just finished unpacking. We met at Dunkin’ Donuts and got to discussing my wanting a roommate.

Now she’s singing. Personally, I think Crystal has just about the worse voice I’ve ever heard.

I spoke to Jenny today. It’s her 23rd birthday. She told me of all the gifts she got from her family and friends.

I tried to get a hold of Mary and there was no answer. She’s just as hard to get a hold of as Emily is.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1987 At about 3:00, I went and did my laundry at the X, then came home at 6:00 and called Dad. He took me out to dinner at 7:00, then when he brought me home he came up here for about half an hour or so. I played Love Me Tender on the keyboard for him and made him coffee.

He weighed himself on my scale and said that it was definitely accurate and that there was no way I could possibly weigh 121 pounds. Then when I stepped on it, it said I was 111.

The people here are so noisy. I think I hear a garbage disposal running now.

Took a bath tonight, never straightening my hair. It looks ridiculous. Very curly.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1987 I'm currently waiting to see the therapist. My dad picked me up earlier today to exchange some pants I received as a Hanukkah gift at the mall. I've noticed my weight has increased and I now weigh 121 pounds. Last night, I had a great time at Tammy's. She, Bill, and their daughters gifted me a sleep shirt for my upcoming Florida trip. Additionally, my parents gave me socks, underwear, a comfy sweatshirt dress, a purse, earrings, a watch, a bracelet, a miniskirt with a matching shirt, two pairs of pants, a coat, gloves, and a scarf.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1987 Looks like I'll be pulling another all-nighter. My body always seems to prefer sleeping during the day instead of at night. Fran and Kevin came over earlier, and we watched a movie that was just average. Nothing too exciting. Tomorrow, I have plans to meet Jenny at Springfield Municipal Hospital where she works at 3:30. She's helping me with my grocery shopping, and I'll be giving her around 30 paperback books that I no longer want.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1987 Last night I fell asleep at sometime around 11:00. I woke up at 5:00 this morning. No noise woke me up. I just for some reason automatically woke up. Who knows why, but on weekdays when I have errands to do it seems I sleep all day, but on the weekend what do I do when there’s nothing to wake up for? Get up at 5am.

Hank from downstairs was up here twice today visiting. Once I asked him to come and look at the black and white TV. He says the transistors are gone.

Then he called up to me while I was dusting the bedroom from his bedroom asking me for aspirin.

Tomorrow or Monday I must get my Hanukkah cards and get my Christmas cards ready to go out in the mail. I also must mail Jo’s b-day card in a few days, too.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1987 Last night I didn’t get to sleep until about 6am. Today I slept till 1pm, got up, put up with the nervous bastard for a while then went to therapy. Next week is my last week with Trisha.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1987 I am currently at Dunkin Donuts and have had two cups of coffee, but nothing to eat. I have successfully lost three pounds. However, I have not consumed any food today, and I plan to continue this trend for the next three to five days.

On Tuesday at 4 pm, my parents and I will be heading to Tammy's for a Hanukkah gathering. I hope the experience will be more enjoyable than Thanksgiving, as I sometimes find my family's behavior to be frustrating.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1987 I had quite a long day today. I have been up since 5:15 this morning as the people upstairs on the 3rd floor were doing the 50-yard dash. I woke up to their footsteps.

At about 8:45 I left for the bus to go to the social security office. I also applied for food stamps.

At the federal building, I saw 3 deaf women signing and went up to join them. I also met a woman from Trinidad who has a deaf daughter. She wants me to teach her sign language. I gave her my number and she says she’ll call me.

As of right now, I am at Jenny’s keeping her company while she cuts carpet.

Jenny gave me a little scatter rug. She has some other carpet for me but she has to find out how much it costs before she sells it to me. I’d love some carpet for my bedroom and the hallway. I hope I can afford it though as I only get $474.49 a month between my two checks (Social Security and SSI). It’s so hard to afford to buy anything for myself other than just pay my rent and the bills because I get so little.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1987 Jenny and Jim were over tonight for a little while. Jenny got me this candle and potpourri that smells really nice.

Earlier today I went to the mall to do some Chanukah shopping. I got Dad Wynonna and Naomi’s tape, mittens for Rebecca, a coloring book for Lisa, a cosmetic organizer for Jenny, and placemats for Tammy and Bill’s table, and last, a bracelet for Kevin. I still need to get something for me and Emily. In case I haven’t already said so, Tammy is my older sister, but no one in the family has been in touch with our older brother, Larry. Bill is Tammy’s husband whom I never really cared for. Lisa is her daughter which she had with some Mexican guy when she lived in Texas. She currently lives in Connecticut. Bill and Tammy had Becky together and both are lousy parents.

Later…

I’ll probably be up most of the night since I slept so late this morning, but I have to get up early tomorrow so I can go to STCC and the federal building. I also have to have some blood work done tomorrow. Right now I am making some fish cakes but after they’re done and I eat I’m going to go over that form for financial aid.

On January 2nd I’ll be flying down to Florida to visit my folks.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1987 It’s been a depressing birthday so far. I am now waiting for Mom and Dad to come pick me up for dinner. Jenny and Emily, an old friend, totally forgot it was my birthday today. Kevin told me over the phone he couldn’t afford to get me anything. I did, however, get a card from Tammy who I’m sure won’t even call me. I also got a card from Jo. Jo’s an old lady back at the old apartment complex I used to live at. Her husband’s crazy but that’s because he has Alzheimer’s disease.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1987 I am now at the doctor’s waiting to be seen. The nurse just weighed me at 118½ pounds.

Nellie paid me $20 today and was on her way over to visit when I was on my way out the door.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1987 I am now at Mom and Dad’s doing my laundry. As usual, Mom is in her bitchy mood.

Kevin is definitely going to get his ass kicked the next time I see him seeing that he threatened me this morning. He should definitely know better by now, but seeing that he doesn’t, maybe I’ll have to hurt him.

I hope to be going to STCC for part-time classes in the daytime starting in January. Also the interpreter training class at night. I’d still like to tutor sign and try doing calligraphy on the side to make extra money.

I hope I see Mary very soon. I want the clothes back she borrowed. If she doesn’t have them she’s dead, just like Nellie if I don’t get paid tomorrow.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1987 Well, today I slept very late again as usual. I was going to do my laundry tonight at 6:00 but Jenny called me at 5:00 and came over at 5:30 to get me and brought me to her new house. I helped her clean her bedroom floor.

I just went across the street to get Jenny and me some coffee.

Jenny’s new house, although it is a rental, is quite nice. It’s got 6 rooms and her bedroom is very big. It has marble floors and a sliding glass door with a porch. Lots of closets everywhere.

Right now she’s painting. She painted the walls purple and the woodwork white. So far she’s pissed because Warren, the guy she’s renting it with, hasn’t done anything yet as far as cleaning. I said, “That’s a male for you.” Males are slobs and hate to clean. They wouldn’t clean unless their lives depended on it but probably not even then. Males suck!

Yesterday I went to see Tammy. She gave me a lot of food and some money. Tomorrow Nellie is going to pay me or she has a broken neck.

I am listening to Jenny’s music. That is our only difference. She hates my music and I think her heavy metal sucks. The only thing we agree on is The Cars.

Last Friday was a bad day in therapy as Trisha came out and told me she was leaving. I balled my eyes out crying. She looked sad, too. She’s got a new job in Connecticut closer to her house where she’ll be working with teenagers. I’ll really miss her and I’m going to hate to have to start my whole life story over again with a new therapist. Don’t forget I’ve been seeing Trisha for a year and a half.

Mom and Dad called yesterday while I was in the tub. They’re coming home Wednesday to return to work. I can’t wait. I missed them.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1987 I just finished my last cigarette. I want to quit. Maybe tomorrow morning I won’t wheeze so badly because I’ve only had one since about 8:15.

Tomorrow I must go to State St. for that volunteer interview for signing. That’s at 10:30.

Also tomorrow, Trisha rescheduled me for 1:00.

I hope I get some extra money soon so I can do Chanukah and Christmas shopping. I want to buy my own cards and do them in calligraphy.

I also want to buy a rod for the curtains I want to put up over the bars in the bathroom window.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1987 I still have the flu and probably will for a few more days. Yesterday all I did was go apply for food stamps and then I felt sicker than hell. It seems I go crazy from sitting in here but then when I go out it creeps up on me.

I am still wide awake with side effects from my medication. I’m gonna tell the doctor that either she changes the medication or I don’t take it at all.

Later…

The bald eagle is here now and he helped me put up the hammock that Mary gave me.

I didn’t get to sleep till 5:00 this morning or possibly later. I got up at 9:00 for an hour, then fell back asleep at 10:00 and woke up at noon when Tammy called telling me about her nutty mother-in-law. This woman really sounds like a real psycho.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1987 I did not go to sleep till 4:30 this morning and one hour later I woke at 5:30. I woke up nauseous then another hour later I woke up at 6:30 and puked. I guess I got the flu. I am going from hot to cold constantly.

I am now at Dunkin Donuts debating on whether or not to do my laundry. I really feel sick but I need to get the hell out.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1987 I am now waiting for Shannon to call me. I hope she has some good news for me. I guess we are going to work out, too.

I hope I’ll have good news myself for Mom and Dad the next time they call.

Later…

Shannon and her sister Doreen just left. We had a really nice visit till the fucking male bastard walked in and gave his usual story of Hartford. When I told them about Kevin’s nervous disorder they laughed royally.

The prick male downstairs was in a huge fight with Mattie. I felt like going down and giving him a piece of my mind.

I don’t know if Shannon’s gonna move in. I hope so, though. She’d be a great roommate.

Tomorrow I’ve got to go to court for the stupid little baby pigs and watch them fall flat on their asses. Males! 90% of my problems in life are males. I gotta go call Mary and remind her. She better go with me tomorrow.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1987 I am at Friendly’s now. Kevin started off in his usual fucked up nervous mood, shaking and getting all argumentative. He totally trembles with nerves every other time I see him! I’ve never seen anything like it. Does this have to do with the concussion he was hospitalized with? You can really see the nervousness in his hands with the way his fingers curl and uncurl.

Soon, I’m going to Food Mart and maybe Brightwood in Longmeadow. I need to get guinea pig food, cedar chips and a few groceries.

Later…

Well, the fucking male just ran out of gas again for the 4th time. God, I’m sick of his shit! I wish they’d commit him to a fucking loony bin. He’s a sicko! I hope the little nervous bastard eats shit and dies. People wonder why I’m gay? Then again, even if all guys were sweethearts, I’m attracted to women. Period.

I called Tammy, my sister who lives in CT, thinking tomorrow was court when it’s really Thursday. I wonder if she’ll drive up and go with me? She did ask for my lawyer’s name and number, though. I guess she feels better being there and that I’ll say the wrong thing if she’s not. If she doesn’t go I’ll have Mary go, but not the little nervous bastard.

I’m still here in Friendly’s drinking coffee till the little nervous bastard gets back from his favorite pastime - running to get gas. The fucking prick! Maybe he’ll fall and break a leg. Someday someone’s gonna do it for him if it isn’t me. I’m so pissed off now. That little bastard’s lucky I didn’t fuck him up.

I need to change the pig’s cage quite badly and vacuum.

Later…

Shannon came over and I think maybe she’ll be my lucky break. I hope so. I sang for her and played my instruments and she said, “What are you doing sitting around here?”

She says she knows some people and that she’s going to talk to some people about my singing. She says she knows some musicians and knows a girl who was talking about being an agent. She also says I may be her lucky break with the signing. She knows a few girls who need to be tutored. She and her sister are going to post that I’d like to teach signing on the bulletins at STCC.

We are going to be going to work out together from now on. She goes in this direction. That would be great. That way I don’t have to go with the little nervous bastard and take the chance of either getting killed by his erratic driving or him running out of gas. She is to be calling me at around 2:00 or 2:30 tomorrow afternoon. I hope she has some good news. Around 4pm we’ll be going to work out.

Too bad she can’t move in here. She’d be the perfect roommate, but I guess she wants her own apartment.

I called the book club and they said I have some books coming from the Mystery Guild. The other two clubs show nothing.

Later…

Just got through speaking with Mary, Doug and Kevin. Doug said he’d never want to be in the same room with me for physical fear of me cutting his cock off, haha. Good for him.

Can’t wait till I hear from Shannon and to get my books.

Tomorrow morning I’d like to go to the bank and then go to welfare and see if I qualify for food stamps. They’d be nice to have.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1987 I am kind of in a bummed-out mood now. I feel a little tired and dizzy. I guess maybe it’s time to get my eyes checked. I know I definitely don’t want to wear glasses.

I think right now I’m going to take a bath and maybe listen to some music. I’m going to also watch the conclusion of that movie I said I saw last night.

Now for my good news. That Shannon C that I met at the gym called to tell me she knew 3 girls from STCC who are currently taking sign language classes and are very confused and need to be tutored. So I think I’ll be tutoring them here at home. Great! Extra money. I miss using my signing, too.

Shannon also said she wants to move out into her own apartment so I gave her Larry’s number. I wonder who will get my apartment and Nancy’s?

Tomorrow night at about 6:00 Shannon will be dropping by for a visit.

Tomorrow I hope Kevin gets his goddamn car fixed. I need to go grocery shopping and buy guinea pig food, and I’d love to skip the buses.

Later…

I just finished watching the movie. That was a hell of a good movie.

Jenny called today. She told me about her job as a nurse’s aide.

The day after tomorrow I must appear in court. I’ve been charged with making prank phone calls. I sure hope they dismiss it, but fat chance! Maybe I just won’t go.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1987 Today I woke up kind of bored so I called Mary and spent the day at her house. Her brother’s a real bastard, and the nervous bastard (Kevin) ran out of gas today at Mary’s. I’m not staying at Mary’s for the night because John and her bastard brother Doug are going to be there tonight. I’ll just go home and clean the apartment. And God knows it sure does need it, too. I’d like to catch up on my reading tonight and maybe study some Spanish. I’ve missed all my weekend shows, though.

Later…

I am home now and have cleaned up. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I remember how picky and perfectly neat I used to be and I wish I could be that way again.

Right now I am watching a movie about these millionaires who committed murder. I think it’s over in a few minutes. After the movie, I must take a bath, wash my hair, shave and brush my teeth. I may read later, too.

I wish to hell I didn’t have this driving phobia I’ve got and that I had my own car or could just move to Florida because I really can’t stand Kevin. It’s a bitch when the one you need around to use for transportation is a total asshole. No luck, I know, as far as him moving. Well, maybe his car will break down or get pulled from him with that rejection sticker he’s had since April and I won’t give in to my temptation to call for a ride.

I was expecting Ma to call tonight but I guess not. She did say this weekend, though. Maybe she’s busy.

Later…

Mary’s bastard brother tried to hit on me on the phone tonight. He said, “I have a heart in me and I know you have a heart too, and I know I can change your mind about men and make you happy.”

No male is gonna “change my mind.” I want a woman. It’s what I’m attracted to.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1987 Yesterday when I was out, Mom called and Kevin said a Karen W was to call me after noon which is anytime now to tell me what they have to offer. For some strange reason, I doubt this will be heaven. I think she’s trying to get me in some supervised halfway house or something. The last thing in the world I’m going to do is be a kid again on a point system with rules and restrictions where there’s no way out. I sure hope there are no nuts in this place. Or males. If they say you can’t smoke in certain areas or eat at certain times or want to know wherever you go, then I’ll know it’s Valleyhead all over again, a private “school” I attended from ages 16-18 that was total hell. I will not give up any of my freedom. If my parents have me walk into a trap again then I’ll know I’m still not the perfect daughter they’re looking for yet. Or maybe I’ll just give in and let myself be fucked over yet again.

Yesterday I told Kevin to stay in my apartment while I took the car out by myself. I did fine except for the fact that I left the lights on and needed jumper cables. So a guy in the parking lot gave me a jump and sent me on my merry way.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1987 I haven’t written since Wednesday night when I slept over at Mary’s place. I am upset with her for not returning the $5 I lent her for dinner as she promised and have been broke all weekend. My checks were supposed to come yesterday, and they didn’t as usual, so I am going to talk to them tomorrow. They think they’re missing a digit in my account number, so the computer is rejecting it and the money’s delayed a day.

I still have to go to court. I didn’t because I have been too sick. I have a bad cold and now I know why last Thursday they said I had a high white blood cell count. I literally forced myself to work out today at about 4 PM and now I am sicker than a dog, but I needed to get the hell away. When I sit at home all day, I get very depressed. I will work out tomorrow, too.

Thursday, I was very depressed and was looking so forward to therapy, but Trisha was out sick. Debbie at the desk said she tried to call me, but I wasn’t home.

I invited Fran P, my old neighbor who used to live next to Kevin, over earlier but he was expecting company, so he’ll come over next weekend. I may invite Kevin over later but I’m a little sick of his company and I really can’t wait till I have my own car (if I can get over my driving phobia). No, I’m not intimate with either Kevin or Fran.

Later…

I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep well tonight since I slept late this morning. Oh well. I’ll probably read all night or write.

Tomorrow I’m going to go pay my rent and I want to call the bank and also go down there and see if they can figure out my checkbook. I fucked it up again with my shitty math.

I also have to pay Jean for those two singing lessons I took and I’m going to once again force myself to go work out. I need to get out and get the exercise, but I’ll probably feel worse after with this damn cold.

Tomorrow night mom’s going to be calling me to tell me about someplace in Florida she thinks I’d like living at. I hope it’s just what I need and want. She also says she thinks she can fly me down sooner than January.

I wonder how my birthday will go this year. It seems Dec. 3rd the day before my birthday always brings me good luck. In ‘85 I moved out on my own. In ‘86 I got my license. What will happen this year?

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1987 I got up today at 8 AM, made coffee, and listened to music. At 9 AM I was fully dressed nicely and then Kevin and I went to Friendly’s for breakfast. We are now going to the Fairfield Mall in Chicopee so he can do some inventory, part of his job.

I just got back from buying new kitchen curtains from Bradlee’s. Surprisingly enough I ran into Mattie I, who lives next door to me, working as a cashier. She helped me as far as measurements. Thank God for her as I would’ve gotten the wrong size. Kevin is still in there counting ties and belts.

When I get home I’m going to hang up my new curtains, then eat, listen to music and lay down till my 3:30 appointment. I have asked Kevin if he will go with me. He said yes, but Dr. H, my shrink, may say no. I doubt she’ll say no, though.

I am at Mary C’s for the night. She’s another old neighbor/friend. We are watching Halloween.

I see Trisha, my therapist, at 2pm tomorrow, then after that, I have to go to the post office for a certified letter and stamps. After that, I need to go to court to drop charges since Nellie paid me for the radio/cassette player her boyfriend stole from my kitchen. She also gave me $40 earlier this evening.

I hope that the medication for my side effects helps and that I stay feeling good that my bad times get less and less and that I’ll always be able to cope.

I also hope tomorrow I start receiving some of the books I ordered. According to Nellie, she hasn’t received hers yet and I would think she’d receive hers before I got mine, as she is a new member.

I think I’m gonna hit the sack soon. The only bad thing about staying here at Mary’s is that it’s freezing in here and this place is so filthy and smelly it drives me nuts.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1987 Springfield, MA My Apartment on Oswego Street…

NOTE: I wrote journals by hand from 10/27/1987 till 6/1/98 when I went all-digital. I have typed up all the handwritten journals, which I no longer have today.

Jenny C, whom I’ve known since 4th grade, came over at about 9:30. I’m 21, she’s 22. I was very tired when I woke up and I still am. The medication I got last night really wipes me out. It’s funny how some medications just don’t agree with me. She made us coffee and some toast. Then after that, she took a shower and I listened to music and then laid down for a while. When I got up I went to the mall in Enfield with Jenny and bought this journal. She wants me to go work out but I am just too tired. So, here I am in this mall just wishing I had money to shop with. I could really go for some new clothes.

When I came home I fell asleep till the mailman woke me up with a certified letter from the bank. Nellie R, who lives two doors away, owes me a total of $175 for having me cash those checks she stole that I didn’t know were stolen. She’ll be paying me $40 every 15 days. It won’t be for almost 3 months till I’m reimbursed.

I am going to tell the doctor that I want off this medication and I’m sure she’ll suggest something else even though I seem to have side effects from everything I take.

I am now at Friendly’s with Kevin T, an old neighbor/friend.

Instead of lying down I took a bath, washed my hair and put it in a ponytail with my new pink ribbon. I am wearing my sweatshirt dress which I just found the other day hiding way in the back of my closet.

Kevin and I are now talking about his kids and just bullshitting about odds and ends. He’s divorced, 45 years old, and his ex is down in CT. He hasn’t seen her or his two boys in quite a while.

I am home now and Kevin and I are watching TV as I sip coffee and write. Before, I was in the process of doing a major clean-up. I finished vacuuming and after my coffee, I must finish cleaning the bathroom and then dust and mop. Housecleaning is very tedious and boring but if I put it off another day it’ll never get done.

Kevin is going to go with me tomorrow to the doctor's. I hope all goes well.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1987 Read First! I'm moving this to the front of my journal even though it's actually 2023 that I write this.

Welcome to my decades of journaling! While I've always emphasized that I primarily write for my own personal expression, I do hope that my words may offer help or inspiration to anyone who finds them valuable. Throughout the years, my journaling has chronicled a diverse range of experiences, including moments of joy, sorrow, adventure, and fear.

However, it's important to acknowledge that some of my writings are controversial and, yes, have been perceived as hateful and racist by some. I want to be upfront about this so there are no surprises. If such content is not in alignment with your preferences, I encourage you to feel free to leave. Nobody is obligated to read my writings, and if certain aspects trouble you, please don’t torture yourself by reading.

Many years ago, I was victimized by individuals of different racial backgrounds who used their connections to law enforcement to target me in the name of revenge. This unfortunate experience, understandably, led me to express sentiments that some might consider racist. Much like how a woman who has suffered abuse may develop distrust or prejudice against men, my writings during that time were driven more by their behavior than by race or color. At times, I may have used racially charged language as a form of venting and provocation, knowing that it would upset them. But really, it was never about race or color. It was about them. But like any human being, I occasionally said and wrote things in the heat of the moment that some may find offensive. I firmly believe that while we can't make people like or love us, we certainly can make people harbor animosity if we mistreat them.

I also acknowledge that the younger, more naive me may stated things as facts that I honestly believed at the time were facts, yet may not have been. Not just regarding the welfare bums but things in general.

During this period, I shared excerpts from my journal with the individuals involved, which they later termed as stalking, despite the fact that I was only documenting information as advised by the police for potential legal recourse in the future. Nonetheless, I sent them copies as a way of venting when we moved (they lived next to us). Well, instead of doing the grown-up thing by not reading what they didn't like, they used it against me and I was manipulated into pleading guilty for something I didn't know I was pleading guilty for. I thought I was being charged with sending the journals but instead, it was supposedly a threatening letter. I did send a less-than-kind letter to these sickos but that was many years prior which led me to believe that someone else they pissed off sent the letter and they assumed it was me. Either that or their cop friend wrote it up and thrust it into my hands during interrogation to get my fingerprints on it when showing me “evidence” that was clearly falsified.

The point is that I lost half a year of freedom and thousands of dollars due to these people's vindictiveness when all I did was express myself. It may not have been in the way they agreed with and wanted to hear but they harassed me for years and I reacted. It was that simple. I make no apologies for anything I ever said to these people be it with my voice or in print.

And yes, I sometimes, in a fit of anger, said something to the effect of wanting to strangle, throttle, beat, kick, slap, or punch various people here and there. Like one sometimes mutters these things under their breath when pissed at someone, I vented in print. However, none of these threats, if you could even call them threats, are meant to be taken literally. It's easy to say we'll do this, this, and that to someone who's crossed us but unless someone's literally trying to harm me, my husband, pets, or property, I'm as harmless as a butterfly. This is a journal. Not a manifesto.

Whether it's common or not, I've had moments in life where I contemplated suicide or at least had thoughts of it, and that too has been expressed in these journals at times and is also not meant to be taken seriously in any way.

My journal is free to anyone who wants to read it but is not open to debate. In other words, I'm not going to argue about some stupid thing I may have written 20 years ago or something I shouldn't have said or done 30 years ago. We all make mistakes, and it's part of my life story.

I also wish to address the unkind things I said about my husband, Tom, in the 90s when we were contemplating having a child. In retrospect, we are glad that we never had children, as it would have placed a tremendous burden on both of us, involving substantial expenses and considerable work while limiting our freedom. My perspective at the time, based on my limited knowledge, was that Tom might have been intentionally avoiding climaxing during our intimate moments to prevent pregnancy. Subsequently, I came to understand that he might have been dealing with low testosterone, but he felt too embarrassed and shy to admit it or seek help.

In hindsight, I'm glad we didn't have children but wish I hadn’t gone through the depression and frustration I experienced during our attempts at starting a family. My earlier belief that medication was the answer has also changed, as I now realize the complexities and potential side effects of hormonal treatments.

Lastly, I want to clear up the thing about God and “Robin.” I was a very emotional person in my younger days and things were a much bigger deal to me than they ever would be today if I was in similar situations. I don't know if there is a God or not but as you'll read, I spent many years rambling about how God hated me and insisted he was controlling and cursing me and my life, and hey, maybe he or something else was at times. I don't know for sure but I do feel a little embarrassed when I read back on those times, LOL, even though we all do and say silly things at times. I just wanted to believe so badly that there really was a God that would listen to me and that cared and that would grant me any reasonable rational prayer I made. But most of my prayers have gone unanswered and I don't know if it’s by design or happenstance. I don't think any of us can really ever know.

Robin was an entity I believed - or at least wanted to believe - was supposedly like a guardian angel, on my side, there to help, to inspire and encourage me, blah blah blah. I don't think I can go so far as to say that Robin was a figment of my imagination and wishful thinking but I don't know that I really ever had this protective spirit hovering over me, especially since quite often things didn't go my way.

I never use real last names unless it's someone famous or infamous. However, I realize that some people may happen to actually have some of the names I've randomly drawn. If this bothers you in any way, don't hesitate to reach out to me (nicely) and let me know. Any threats or ultimatums will be completely ignored.

In summary, my journal spans a wide range of experiences, emotions, and beliefs, and I offer this context to better understand the evolution of my thoughts and feelings over the years as well as what life was like for future generations that may read my life story.

[mama-forest-witch]

9/6/23, personal ramblings:

I hope you’re all doing well!! I’ve been cramming in some FFXIV lately to gather currency in their current treasure trove event.

My oldest son got sick last night so I’ve been caring for him, rotating medicines and trying to keep him feeling okay.

I’ve been cleaning house, caring for my 2 month old and sewing things for my new guinea pig!

I start working seasonally again for Bath and Body Works this Sunday. My old boss got ahold of me and asked if I’d be willing to come back to help so I’m excited for that.

The weather out here has finally been chilling out a bit. It went from 107° F to 81° F and it’s supposed to just get cooler and cooler all week. Finally!

I’ve gone from 198 lbs to 154 lbs in 2 months. I am now only 29 lbs away from my goal/normal weight of 125 lbs. My body still feels odd after the C-section but finally more normal and less painful.

Ok, that’s all my current updates!

[evangelineyeunyoga]

I'm so excited for my weekend retreat in picturesque Leura, the Blue Mountains @brightlandsretreat 9-11 June 2023 over the long weekend! It's only 3 months away and the early bird price ends on 9 March. Hope you can make it and please let me know if you have any questions. 💫☀☺ Close your eyes, take a breath of crisp mountain air, and hear the birdlife and the quiet at the beautiful Brightlands Retreat- only 5 minutes from the Leura train station. Nourish your body and mind with daily yoga and meditation, partner yoga stretching workshop, Ayurveda Workshop, bushwalking and quality food prepared by talented chefs. The courtesy van picks up and drops off at Leura train station and at the Blue Mountains National Park.   Please see the inclusions below:  2 nights accommodation- (Linens & bath towels provided). All rooms with ensuite  All delicious, healthy, and nourishing vegetarian meals (Vegan and GF are available) Friday dinner Saturday breakfast, lunch & dinner Sunday breakfast and lunch  All yoga classes- Vinyasa and Yin Yoga (all mats and props are free to use)  Guided Meditation  Yoga Nidra  Onsite wellness centre  Partner yoga workshop (you don’t need to bring a partner)  Ayurveda workshop  Pranayama  Tea, coffee & snacks  Courtesy van to the Blue Mountains National Park and Leura train station Check-in from Friday 4pm/Check out Sunday 2pm The first yoga class is at 5:30pm. Please let me know if you have any questions. Spaces are limited so don't miss out! 🙏💕 🧘‍♀️ #selflove #selfcare #weekendgetaway #weekendretreat #couplesweekend #nourishyoursoul#rechargeyourbatteries #fillyourcup #lovelife #girilsweekend #yoga #bluemountainsyogaretreat #lovensw #destinationnsw #nourishyoursoul #wellnessretreat #yogaretreat #bluemountainsretreat #bondiyogi #sydneyyogateacher#leuraretreat #leurayogaretreat @evangelineyeun (at Brightlands Retreat) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpR9ItuvEeC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=