#Lobby Guide | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuluoyi · 5 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, jealousy (a very jealous zayne, in fact), making out in his office, crack, fluff, hunter!reader, you and zayne have a daughter

note: inspired by that one kim min-kyu scene in business proposal :D this is actually an extension for nocturne of twilight and dawn's first light but can also be read as standalone

You hadn't seen your husband for two weeks.

There was a spring on your step when you entered Akso Hospital right after your long intercity mission. You had acquired some bruises and they weren't anything serious, so you figured you’d just have Greyson treat them. Besides, it gave you the perfect excuse to hand him some cookies as a souvenir.

And, of course, ask him to ring for Zayne to meet you once he had the time.

"Miss, do you need help?"

But a curious voice addressed you when you loitered around in the lobby, and you turned around to find a bright-faced young man with red hair and wearing doctor's coat.

"Ah, yes, I want to meet Dr. Zayne," you smiled. "Or Dr. Greyson will do."

The young doctor perked up at the names you mentioned. "Oh, are you a patient? Do you have an appointment already?"

"Hmm, no, actually I am—"

You halted mid-sentence before the words his wife slipped out, rethinking your choice. You knew of Zayne's infamous reputation in the hospital, and while almost everyone in his floor knew you, this new doctor didn't, and you thought it was best to leave it that way.

"Yeah, I already have an appointment," you nodded, plastering an thin smile. "Just tell Dr. Greyson that Y/N wants to meet him."

"Right, right, I'll page him now..." he mumbled, pulling out his pager and his phone. "I'll text him too..."

"Thank you."

"O-oh, Miss! Wait!" the young man called after you in a hurry when you turned around. "I've noticed it for a while, you have a cut on the side of your lips..."

"Ah, this..." Your fingers instinctively brushed the dried blood on your lips. You hadn’t thought the small cut was noticeable. "Yes, it’s from earlier—"

"Actually, I’m an ER resident!" he interrupted with a bright grin. "Let me treat you first!"

Caught off guard by his enthusiasm, you barely had time to react as he gently but firmly guided you towards the emergency room.

"Dr. Zayne! Dr. Zayne! Your wife is here~!"

Zayne had barely stepped into his office after a grueling surgery when Greyson barged in, all too casually, delivering the news with a grin. "She’s waiting in the lobby!"

He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh?"

You're back? He pulled out his muted phone, checking the notifications. Sure enough, you’d sent him a message an hour ago, letting him know you’d safely landed in Linkon.

His little, snarky wife. For the past two weeks you had been away, the house had felt lonelier. Sure, his daughter—who resembled you in personality, no less—was a bundle of sunshine and adorable beyond words, but without you, there was always that subtle void in the air.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house at all? Maybe it was just him—utterly, hopelessly whipped.

"Why isn’t she coming up to my office?" he asked suddenly, noticing the odd detail.

"Hmm, yeah, and it’s weird... why did the new resident say she’s asking for me?" Greyson mused, turning toward Zayne. "Don’t you want to meet her instead? Whatever she needs me for, I’m sure you could handle it."

Zayne promptly left his office and took long strides toward the elevator. As the doors started to close, he even half-sprinted, calling out to the person inside to hold it for him.

Okay, maybe he was a little too eager, but was it really so wrong to be this excited to see his wife again when the two of you had been apart for two weeks?

...then again, you didn't need to know. You would roast him to bits should you know he missed you this much.

Zayne got off at the lobby, expecting to find you there— only to find the usual flow of hospital staff and visitors. He was about to call you when he wandered past the emergency room and turned the corner—and that’s when he got his shock of the day.

There you were. But not alone.

With a guy.

Whose hand is touching your lips.

"It must be tough being a hunter, huh?"

The red-haired resident carefully tended to your bruised arm, wrapping it in a fresh bandage as you sighed, thinking back to the mission. "Yeah, there are definitely some hard days..."

"But despite all that, you still keep yourself in shape!" he remarked, eyeing your toned arms with a hint of admiration.

You let out a sheepish laugh, remembering those pull-ups sessions with Zayne. "Haha, that's because my husband makes sure I'm getting enough exercise..."

"You're married?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, and it caught you off guard, yet he grinned afterwards. "Wow! Is he a hunter too?"

You would've never guessed, boy. This resident doctor was cute, you thought, ever so curious at everything. You could only imagine the look on his face if you told him that the Dr. Zayne was your husband.

You were about to refute it when his fingers brushed against your lips. "Oh, sorry, let me apply some ointment here first..."

His touch felt cool to your lips and you were momentarily stunned at the contact— but then a gruff cough startled you so much you almost jumped.

The towering figure of your husband behind him. Zayne's dark gaze was fixed on the man in front of you, like he could murder the poor guy with just a look.

"Z-Zayne...?" you squeaked against the ointment on your lips, and the resident quickly turned behind him in surprise, hastily greeting him, "Oh, Dr. Zayne!"

Zayne shot the poor man a single, pointed look before his gaze shifted to you, clearly unamused.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and, without sparing the resident another glance, swiftly pulled you away. The other guy was left standing there, speechless, as Zayne led you off, leaving him in the dust.

. . .

"Zayne!"

Oh, how he actually missed his name coming out from your lips.

"Are you done with your schedule?" you asked as he pulled you into the elevator, confusion evident in the way you tilted your head. But when he didn’t answer, you glanced down at his firm grip on your arm, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, no... are you angry?"

Sigh. It irked him so much, actually. Because, how could you, after weeks—

No, he actually knew he was being irrational. He shouldn’t overreact like this just because someone else touched you. But why is he so annoyed, still?

"Wait, why?" you kept asking, wide-eyed, as the two of you stepped out and made way towards his office. "I'm not injured! I'm fine! It's just some bruises—"

Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his office, swiftly locking the door behind him. Before you could say another word, he cornered you against the wall, and you fell silent instantly.

It had been a while since he’d seen you this way—stunned, caught off guard, and utterly silent under his gaze. He studied your face closely, watching the way your breath hitched as the tension between you both thickened.

It sparked something inside him seeing you like this, a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

That was when he saw the blood on your lips. "Did you get punched in the face?"

"Y-Yes, but— it's nothing severe!" you defended, trying to convince him. "It's such a small cut anyway!"

He frowned. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What? Hey, I was about to ask Greyson, but—"

That got him frown even deeper, even irate. "Why Greyson? When you come home with any injuries, you come to me, not anyone else."

You let out a resigned sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. "Because I know you'll fuss over me, duh."

"I don't fuss," he retorted.

"You do," you shot back, pursing your lips. "You try to act like this cool, calm robot all the time, but you always drone on and on whenever you patch me up. You're worried, it shows."

Zayne huffed, shifting his gaze away from you as he felt his face burn. Was he that obvious? How could he not, though, when you managed to get hurt so often and yet acted so innocent about it?

Then as if inspired, you caught on immediately. Your eyes sparkled, and a mischievous smirk tugged at your lips. "Wait, just now... don't tell me... Are you jealous?"

Damn.

"Heh, Dr. Zayne, really?" Your voice was playful now, mocking him. "Whoa, how can this be?"

How had you figured him out so easily?

You continued in a sing-song voice, putting both hands on your chest, "Ah, my heart flutters! My husband is apparently—"

Enough. This time, his patience snapped.

He didn’t hesitate even for a moment. A low growl escaped him, and in one swift motion, he crashed his lips against yours, silencing you with the most effective method he could think of.

"Mmph!" You gasped in surprise, the teasing words at the end of your tongue completely forgotten. His gray eyes gleamed. Been too long, he thought, and now he was making sure you knew just how badly he craved this.

The kiss was searing as he deepened it, his tongue seeking yours with urgency. "Hngh!" You let out a feeble whine when he teased you by biting your lips.

Zayne held back a snort. One of his hand then strayed inside your hunter uniform, unclasping your bra with a flick.

"—?!" Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening, and before you could process it, he pulled away. But you were far from right in thinking it was over. The dangerous gleam in his eyes kept you tense as he swiftly removed his glasses...

...before he pulled you back towards him and claimed your lips once again.

With a swift, commanding motion, he guided you toward his desk. His papers scattered at the sudden movement, but he had you bent over it regardless, forcing your body to arch. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, while his right hand fondled your breasts, repeatedly squeezing, palming and switching between them.

"Mmm...!" You let out a strangled moan, instinctively holding onto his shoulder, feeling the way how he groped you ignited your core. "Ahh..."

Your body was tantalizing as always. Hardened and sometimes bruised from your work it may be, but to Zayne, you were still beautiful as ever.

When you gasped for air, he decided he was done with your swollen lips. His lips then trailed down to your neck, sucking hard on it, creating a squelching sound that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"W-what's... gotten into you...?" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair, hyperaware of his hands still roaming over your nipples.

In response, he nibbled at your skin and flicked your breasts at the same time, causing you to freeze and draw a sharp, hitched breath. "Haah...!"

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curled wickedly at your reaction, and he continued to pepper your neck with series of wet sucks as if to mark you altogether. You writhed under him, whiny and sighing, relishing his hot breath on your skin.

You were utterly at his mercy, pliant and helpless in his hands. There was a deep satisfaction in knowing he was the only one who could bring you, his lawfully wedded wife, to this state—

Still, he wouldn’t allow you to be indecent in a place like this. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw. "Don’t tempt me," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. "Zayne..." you whispered, a whine broke through the heat on your flushed face.

His expression softened just enough, a flicker of tenderness cutting through the intensity. Pretty. That’s what you were, undeniably so. How he had missed out on you so long once was his greatest regret.

Carefully, he helped you sit upright, his touch gentle as he clasped your bra and began buttoning up your uniform, disheveled from his earlier ministrations.

The gentle way he touched you was a stark contrast to how it was earlier. "Is that a new way to treat busted lip?" you nudged his collar, feeling a little braver now.

"For bad wives, yeah."

"I'm not a bad wife! Just disobedient on some occasion."

Zayne's fingers brushed your face as he finished with your uniform, his dark-gray eyes steady on you. You pouted.

"You're the one who's bad," you accused with slight resentment, not missing a beat as the heat between your legs started to dissipate. "Leaving me unfinished like that."

"Hmm? Am I?" he murmured, the faintest amusement in his tone.

"You have to take responsibility tonight, you big meanie," you mumbled, your pout deepening as you avoided meeting his gaze.

Zayne snorted at the sight of you—so precious in his eyes, his thumb lightly grazing the corner of your lips in a gesture so tender it made your heart skip, before whispering in your ear:

"Well, if your voice won't wake our daughter, that is."

Epilogue

Not long after, just as you had gathered yourself and were preparing to leave the hospital to head home, a sudden knock at the door of his office startled you both.

Quickly, you moved to sit on the patient’s seat, feigning nonchalance as you braced yourself for whoever was on the other side. Zayne reached for the door, but before he could unlock it, a familiar voice called out.

"Excuse me!" the resident's voice sounded a bit hesitant but firm. "Dr. Zayne, the miss left her handbag earlier!"

Zayne let out a low, irked sigh. You glanced at him curiously, watching as he opened the door and came face-to-face with the redheaded resident.

Without a word, he extended his hand, and the resident blinked before handing over the bag.

"I-is the miss still here?" the young doctor asked, almost intimidated by his unfriendly gaze.

"Ma'am," Zayne corrected, his voice flat.

"Huh?"

"Call her ma'am. She's someone's wife."

"O-oh, and her husband is—"

"Me. I am her husband."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the matter-of-fact exchange, heat rising to your cheeks as Zayne’s words hung confidently in the air. He curtly thanked the poor resident before slamming the door shut in his face.

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Zayne!" you gasped, staring at him as he turned back towards you, entirely unbothered.

Your husband was as cold as the snowman he often made, but somehow the way he boldly declared he was your husband was just so him that it made you so giddy.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "You’re really jealous, huh? How?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, most definitely trying to save his dignity.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing sway. Your fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, turning him to face you, and you winked at him mischievously.

"Well, I’m all yours. But if it makes you feel better, maybe I’ll stay away from any ER residents for a while~"

5K notes · View notes

puffyartist · 1 month ago

Text

GROOVY I like to attend town hall meetings! It's nice to talk face-to-face with the people who represent me!

Do you think you'd like to get started attending your own local town meeting? Here are some tips for you! (alt text is also written out underneath the cut)

If you're interested, you can download your own PDF copy of this zine over on itchio for free!

Are you someone who wants to express your thoughts not only to your representatives, but others in your community? Loves an excuse to go out to an in–person gathering of people? Want to have friends by your side to support your point as you make your case? Try going to a Town Meeting!

“…legislative offices [are]nearly twice as likely to positively respond tosuch town hall events if the focus of the event [is] learning from constituents rather than justifying the lawmaker’s position…” (Source: https://thelawmakers.org/wpcontent/uploads/2022/07/ClarkeMarkovits2022_CEL.pdf)

TIPS

Be Prepared! Have your Pitch ready! Know what the meeting is about!

Get Personal! How has a policy impacted you? How could it potentially impact you or others you know?

Paint the Bigger Picture! What is the wider impact of this policy? If you have the statistics to back you up, cite them!

Enlist Allies! Have others join you in the meeting to emphasize you’re not alone in having these thoughts!

Be Respectful! Passion is your ally, but remember your aim is also to build or strengthen relationships to support future dialogues with policymakers!

NETWORKING BASICS

Talk to the Staff! This is an opportunity to build a relationship with someone who has the Senator's ear!

Leave Paper! Have your business card or pamphlets with the talking points listed out, and leave copies with others!

Follow up Politely! After the meeting, send an email or call to thank them for their time!

Be Persistent! Keep showing up!

FURTHER READING

How to Organize a Town Hall Meeting: https://guideinc.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Organizing-a-Town-Hall-Meeting.pdf

Scientific Research Into the Effectiveness of Town Halls: https://thelawmakers.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/ClarkeMarkovits2022_CEL.pdf

Lobby Guides

Citizen’s Climate Lobby Guide: https://community.citizensclimate.org/resources/item/19/264

PFLAG’s Lobby Guide: https://pflag.org/resource/lobbying-at-town-halls/

American Postal Workers Union Lobby Guide: https://apwu.org/news/tips-meeting-members-congress-and-other-elected-officials

League of Women Voters Lobby Guide: https://cawp.rutgers.edu/sites/default/files/library/how_to_lobby_your_legislator.pdf

The tips section has adapted text from the following sources:

Even the smallest stone thrown can create a Ripple!

All of the advice in here is written with the USA political system in mind. There may be some crossover with other countries, but not all advice is applicable.

This guide was made with the best of my ability with references I found online. Please use this guide as a first step to further research from actual professionals.

Remember: taking even the smallest of actions is more effective then just reading about it. Taking that first step can be scary, especially if it’s a new experience for you, but it is worth it.

#Groovy Gal #Groovy Gang #Illustration #Democracy #Civil Responsibility #Town Hall #Lobbying #Town Hall Meetings #Lobby Guide #Guide

7 notes · View notes

kitsunabi · 1 year ago

Text

Bold of anyone to assume I can't meme in this year's windtrace

#kittybee games #windtrace #best lobbies are randoms that tacitly Agree to a bit #dehya was designated tour guide to jail time #still can't figure out that hilichurl village there's gotta be an easier way regardless of being hunter/rebel #i menacingly chased (not cap) wanderer as raiden all last game #rebels are extra skittish in this game mode i've taken to pspspsing in chat my intentions (wrapped in in-char dialogue)#literally get 1k coins in one round i just ferry the rest of the rounds for memes #playing hunter arlecchino is just watching who chooses to become your children and then specifically catching only everyone else

1 note · View note

buckiverse · 4 months ago

Text

Lessons

☆--- paring: zayne x reader

☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆--- word count: 9.9k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)

↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel

Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.

Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.

The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed.

“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.

“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”

How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further.

Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.

“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together.

You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment.

The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore.

Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping.

“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out.

“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly.

You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.

“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them.

“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.

“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips.

You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants.

Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.

Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.

The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours.

“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.

Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you.

“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”

His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.

From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.

You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side.

Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.

He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

☆

You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.

“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.

You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.

It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you.

Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”

Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.

Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”

It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.

This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.

Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.

The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing.

When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join.

You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response.

“...yeah.”

Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn.

Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle.

You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees.

He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you.

He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it.

You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?

When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.

You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:

You:

“Can I call you? I need some advice.”

When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.

Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.

While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.

“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.

Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.

You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:

“Okay.”

That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.

Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.

On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.

Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.

As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.

☆

Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:

Zayne:

“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.”

A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.

You:

“Got it.”

With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.

Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.

The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.

“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.

Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.

When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.

Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.

A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.

You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.

Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.

You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.

“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.

Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”

—

You hadn’t expected this.

The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.

Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.

“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”

A small, knowing smile touched his lips.

You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”

He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”

You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.

Your heart squeezed.

He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.

At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.

The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.

His gaze lifted, catching yours.

You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.

And so the night went on.

Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.

Maybe that was why—

—why you ended up tipsy.

The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.

And then—

"You're drunk."

His voice was strained.

Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”

His breath hitched.

You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”

Darkness.

And then—morning.

Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—

The memory came rushing back.

Your stomach dropped.

Shit.

What did you do?

You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat.

Zayne:

“Are you feeling better?”

It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand.

You:

“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”

And from there the conversation flowed.

Zayne:

“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”

You:

“Duh.”

☆

This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.

Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.

You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”

A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.

“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.

Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.

"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.

The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.

Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.

The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.

On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.

“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.

“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.

“You always do,” you whispered.

The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.

When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.

“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out.

“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes.

“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.

When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.

“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.

You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.

“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”

His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

This man was everything.

☆

Later That Week

You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye.

You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat.

When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy.

Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.

“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips.

Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.

While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows.

He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this.

The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.

“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb.

His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.

“Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.

Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing.

Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.

“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”

“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.

With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”

You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.

In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.

Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.

The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?

That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?

But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.

You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t.

Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.

The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.

☆

You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.

You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.

Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.

With him.

So, he invited you over after work.

Zayne:

"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"

You:

"How do you always know exactly what I need?"

…

Zayne:

"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."

When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.

But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.

He had kept them.

Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.

You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.

As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”

Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.

You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.

This was new. You had never felt this way before.

And he was making you crazy.

You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.

When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.

Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.

Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.

“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”

Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.

The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.

“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”

Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.

Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.

Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.

“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”

His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.

The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.

At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.

Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.

It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.

You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.

The movie played, but you weren’t watching.

You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.

Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.

Click.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne.

Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer.

“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter.

“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.

“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin.

"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured.

Zayne exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.

“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.

The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.

Your breath hitched.

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed. Say it.

“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”

The words left you in a breath, raw and real.

Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.

Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.

You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared.

“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch.

His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips.

“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you.

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips.

He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.

“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.

Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help.

You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow.

You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation.

He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt.

“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness.

You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin.

“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.”

And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.

The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him.

Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace.

He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples.

“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple.

“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other.

Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin.

His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.

He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.

Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.

Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips.

Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of.

You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.

His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.

You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most.

One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.

You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips.

“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream.

He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”

You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.

You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.

He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats.

His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling.

Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom.

“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”

You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it.

His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin.

The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.

Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.

You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair.

His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream.

He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs.

His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.

When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you.

His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself.

“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair.

He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips.

He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you.

“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.

Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.

A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.

“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.

And then—release.

Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.

You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss.

A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.

His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door.

He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you.

Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom.

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head.

Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him.

Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”

Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further.

You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up.

"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.

"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.

"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."

His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you.

“...Please” you breathed.

He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.

“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.

His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.

“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face.

He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.

The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.

When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.

He didn’t move right away.

Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.

And then, he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.

“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent.

Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.

He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.

His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.

The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly.

His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.

“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.

A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.

Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.

“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”

His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.

"I think you already have," you whispered.

The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you didn’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.

3K notes · View notes

swearimnevergivingup · 5 months ago

Text

so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again.

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry.

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice.

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt.

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time.

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too.

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)

7K notes · View notes

2boldlyqueer · 1 year ago

Text

Thank you for letting me know more of the specifics of the bill! I was too mad to stop and read it all yesterday before posting. (For what it's worth, you mentioned a few times that this is an amendment to an existing law. I think that, given the ruling of Citizen's United, it could be considered unconstitutional if someone were to take it all the way to the Supreme Court. Or that they'd need to overturn CU to continue allowing the boycott law to stand. Though I'll admit, I'd need to do more research before committing to that statement.)

I wanted to add to this just to say, I used to do some lobbying federal congress for diabetes research funding and also state congress in NY for medicare for all, and I learned a lot about talking to politicians there. Specifically, you want to tailor your ask to the rep you're talking to. We had two approaches, that largely split along party lines (though there was crossover with both.)

When we spoke to Republicans, we went to with hard facts. We'd bring in fact sheets to leave with them that detailed how many Americans have diabetes, how many die or have painful complications, and (this was the most important part) how much money it cost the country every year to support the diabetics living there. That number was much higher than the number we asked for for funding, and we'd point to how much money could be saved by improving treatments and potentially curing the disease in the future.

On the other hand, while we still brought and left the fact sheets with Democrats, our approach was usually more person-centered, as they would listen to and moved by personal stories. Part of why I did this when I was a teen was having a diabetic teenager look into your eyes and ask for help was very powerful with them. Especially followed up by my mother asking them for help to make sure I don't die like [specific story about a diabetic who died].

So, when I decided what to say to Lawler, I looked for facts that support my position that also fall in line with the general ethos of the Republican party (the Constitution and Founding Fathers are super important, small government, reducing spending, etc.)

All of that said, when you're calling or emailing and not talking directly to the politician, it honestly doesn't matter that much what you say, as you're just going to be noted down as for or against by the staffer who gets the message. That said it's still good to have some kind of argument, but don't bother with more than 1-3 paragraphs.

#long post #sorry to go on but i have a Lot of Thoughts about lobbying as a citizen #and I hope this is helpful for some folks!#I would still be lobbying but my health took many turns for the worse since then and I can't reliably get to scheduled stuff #(also sorry but if you found my lil lobby guide helpful & you have a dollar to spare pls consider checking out my pinned post & tipping me)#(hate to add that but i'm struggling rn and gotta hustle where i can until the govt decides i'm disabled enough to get some money from them

7K notes · View notes

rafeshit · 4 months ago

Text

dad!drew x pregnant!reader

warnings — fluff and stuff :)

summary — drew being overprotective when you leave a hotel to see a swarm of paparazzi and fans at the doorway

—

You stand in front of the hotel room mirror, applying a final coat of mascara as Drew sits behind you, watching with an admiring gaze. You're both getting ready to head out to dinner, and you can't wait to dig into the food.

"Drew, I have been craving seafood all day," you say, setting the mascara wand down on the counter. "I hope they have some options at this restaurant." You groan, all you need right now is seafood, your whole pregnancy you had been craving it like clockwork.

Drew's face lights up with a smile. "You're in luck, because I checked the menu online and they have an entire section dedicated to seafood. You're going to be in heaven baby."

You let out a squeal, happy to hear that, and Drew gets up from his chair, walking over to where you stand. He drops to his knees, his hands on either side of your belly, and presses his lips to your stomach through the tight black dress, sending kisses all over your stomach. "Hey there, buddy," he coos, speaking to your bump. "Mama's been craving some fish, huh? Are you hungry, baby?"

As if on cue, the baby kicks, and you both laugh at that coincidence.

"Looks like someone's excited for dinner," Drew says, chuckling, looking at you.

You run your hand over your belly, feeling the pressure of the baby's kicks. "I think someone's been listening to our conversation," you say smiling.

Drew plants one more kiss on your stomach before standing up, holding out a hand to help you turn around. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure your makeup is perfect, before grabbing your bag and nodding at Drew.

"Ready to go?" he asks, and you nod. as you head out the door, Drew wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, and step out into the hallway. As the elevator doors slide open, you and Drew step inside, pressing the button for the lobby. The ride down is quick and quiet, and your hands are interlocked with Drew’s as he kisses you on the cheek.

As you exit the elevator, you push through the glass doors, and surprisingly you're met with a swarm of paparazzi and screaming fans. You blink, taken aback by the chaos. "How did they even find us?" you wonder out loud, grasping Drew's arm for support. You'd only arrived in town today, and you'd been discreet about your whereabouts.

Drew shields your face from the flashing cameras, as you step outside. "Let's just get through this," he mutters, guiding you through the crowd. Fans reach out, begging for autographs and pictures, but Drew politely declines, mentioning your dinner reservation. You nod in agreement, trying to stay focused on getting through the crowd.

But just as you think you're making progress, a paparazzi grabs your arm, yanking you back. "How's the pregnancy going?" he asks, his camera lens inches from your face, flashing bright white flicks in your face, practically blinding you.

You stumble, almost losing your balance, but Drew quickly reacts, catching you. He shoves the paparazzi away with his shoulder, giving him just enough force to get him to back off. "Watch yourself, dick wad," Drew spat, "You could've hurt her."

The paparazzi sneers, but Drew's warning is clear. "You're going to need to do better than that if you want a shot," Drew adds. You take a deep breath, continuing through the crowd. Drew wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in even closer.

Finally, you see the black sedan waiting for you, and Drew opens the door, helping you inside. You collapse onto the seat, exhaling a sigh as the door closes behind you. "Are you okay?" Drew asks, moving a piece of hair from your face.

You nod, still shaken up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Drew takes your hand and scans your face. "Anytime, baby. Now, let's get to that seafood, right?” He offers a smile, to which you could reciprocate.

As the car pulls away from the curb, you start to feel dizzy. The encounter with the paparazzi was more than you can handle, and the motion of the car isn't helping. You sway slightly to the side, feeling like you're going to faint.

Drew's eyes snap to yours, "Hey, hey, are you okay?" he asks, quickly releasing his seatbelt and moving closer to you.

You nod, trying to assure him, but the words get stuck in your throat. Your vision starts to blur, and you feel like you're going to pass out. Without hesitation, Drew takes your hand and pulls you into his side. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you close, and begins to speak softly into your ear. "Take slow, deep breaths, baby. You're alright now. I've got you."

You nod, already feeling better as you lean into him. He tenderly strokes your hair, his fingers gentle against your scalp. "That was a close call back there." he says, verbally upset about it.

As the car continues to move, Drew holds you tight. Your dizziness begins to subside and after a few minutes, you feel well enough to sit up straight again. Drew helps you adjust your seatbelt and hands you a bottle of water from the car's mini-fridge.

"Here, drink this," he says, "You must have gotten dehydrated from the shock."

You take a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your throat. "Thank you.”

Drew smiles, "Anytime, baby. Now, let's get to that dinner and get you those crab legs."

“Thank God.” You chuckle. Upon arrival at the restaurant everything else went smoothly, you had a nice romantic dinner at one of the best restaurants in the city and you enjoyed your seafood by clearing off the entire plate. When it came time to go back to the hotel drew made sure to step out the car first and make a pathway for you by telling the fans that you were expecting and needing the space. They obeyed, because they were respectful as always.

Finally you reach the hotel room and collapse on the bed, drew following suit. he wraps his arm around your tummy and smiles at you, to which you smile back. He places a kiss on you lips and you both then prepare to get ready for bed.

#drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew fluff #drew starkey fluff #dad!drew starkey #pregnancy #pregnant #pregnant fluff #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #dad!rafe cameron #pregnant reader #pregnant!reader #rafexreader #drew starkey

1K notes · View notes

ariestrxsh · 5 months ago

Text

olderbrothersbsf!matt x innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, praise, small age gap (both characters are adults), forbidden love

જ⁀➴ ♡ summary: your brother starts picking up on the weird tension between you and matt, but the two of you press your luck, continuing to sneak around right in front of his face.

dividers by @/roseraris

Young God

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

After your brother nearly caught you and Matt by the pool, they'd disappeared into his room to play video games. You'd wandered in a few hours later, hoping to get more of Matt's attention. You just wanted to be near him.

"Whatcha guys doing?" You asked, batting your lashes as you waited by his open door, hearing the sound of zombies being slain coming from the speaker of the TV.

"What do you want?" Your brother shot back, glaring at you. The last thing he wanted was for you and Matt to be in the same room together after he'd found Matt with the strings of your bikini top in his hands.

"Why don't you come hang out with us?" Matt suggested, patting the bed beside him. "Here we go," your brother scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing Matt was about to turn on the charm and flirt with you.

You enthusiastically nodded and made your way over to sit where Matt had invited you. "You ever play video games?" Matt asked you. "Not really. Just Mario Kart sometimes," you told him, watching the gorey scene on the screen unfold as Matt and your brother shot at all the zombies that were closing in on them.

"Here," Matt said, placing the controller in your hand, wrapping his arms around you, and placing his thumbs on top of yours on the joy sticks. You loved the warmth of his body as he pulled you close against his chest.

"This is how you run," Matt whispered, his lips brushing against the tip of your ear while he maneuvered the controls for you. You peered down and admired his veiny hands, his thumbs resting on yours. "Here's how you jump," he said, pushing down on the button that looked like an X.

"This is how you shoot," he told you, guiding your pointer finger to the trigger. You looked back at him and smiled, blushing at how sweet he was to you and how he always made you feel included in their activities.

"Why don't you guys make out already?" Your brother dryly said, watching the way Matt spoke to you with a disgusted expression. Little did he know, not only had you made out with his best friend already, but the two of you had done so much more than that.

Your face grew hot as you pulled your glance away from Matt and locked your eyes back onto the screen. "You're really good at this," Matt sweetly whispered in your ear, making you giggle since he was the one who was actually directing the controls.

When the round was over, Matt congratulated you on getting the most points out of everyone in the lobby even though they were really his points. He winked at you, and you swooned.

You continued to hang out with them for the rest of the night, stealing glances at the handsome boy beside you, and he continued to make you blush with his flirtatious comments and subtle looks.

Your brother was annoyed the whole time, definitely starting to suspect something was going on between the two of you. He could feel the tension in the room between you and Matt, but was also completely in denial about it. He kept wanting to believe that you were immune to Matt's charm.

However, the longer he watched the way you stared at his best friend, the more he realized you'd fallen into the trap he'd seen many girls fall into. He didn't understand what women saw in Matt and how they couldn't see that he was playing them. He had to do something about it.

"Hey, Matt. Are you gonna call that girl?" Your brother asked, hammering away on his controller. Your eyes traveled up to study Matt's reaction. "What girl?" Matt scoffed, his gaze still fixed on the screen.

"You know. That girl you were flirting with the other night? You got her number, right? She was all over you. You should call her up," your brother casually mentioned to Matt.

It's not like you and Matt were dating, but it felt like someone had stuck a knife in your heart and rotated it. You naively thought you were the only girl he was interested in, and you started to feel stupid, wondering how many other girls he was talking to or sleeping with, meanwhile you were falling in love with him.

You didn't even hear Matt's response, because your heartbeat was thumping away in your ears. It almost sounded like you were under water or really far away for a moment.

You felt tears sting the corners of your eyes as they started to well in your waterline. Before either boy could see you cry, you jumped to your feet and darted out of the room, wondering if your brother was right about Matt.

"Hey, Matt. Why did my sister just run out of the room in tears when we started talking about that girl you met the other night?" Your brother shot him a very serious look. Matt shrugged. "She's got a crush on me or something," Matt mumbled, wanting to follow you out, but afraid your brother would suspect something.

Your brother got up and shut off the TV and turned back to his best friend. "Do you see how unfair it is to her for you to be playing games with her? It's more than harmless flirting to her," your brother scolded him, starting to raise his voice.

"You know what else is unfair to her? Policing who she can and can't date all because you're projecting your fears about her getting hurt onto me. You know, the only reason she has a crush on me anyway is because of you!" Matt sternly responded, getting up from the bed and angrily pointing at your brother.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Your brother shot back, furrowing his brow. "When you tell someone not to do something a hundred times, they're eventually going to get curious about it-" Matt started to suggest, but he was cut off.

"Look. Whatever you're doing or saying to my sister, it's making her think that she has a chance with you, so why don't you go in there, set her straight, and let her know nothing's ever going to happen between the two of you?" Your brother requested, ignoring the point that was being made to him. Matt looked at him for a few seconds before silently pushing past him and exiting the room.

He gently tapped his knuckles against your closed bedroom door. "Go away!" You shouted. Matt knocked again before cracking the door open about an inch.

"You don't mean that, do you? You'd rather sit here and cry by yourself than talk to me about it?" Matt wondered, peeking his head into the room. "No," you said, sniffling while you were curled up in the fetal position in the middle of the mattress.

Matt stepped in and closed the door. "What are you upset about, sweetheart?" Matt asked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. You sat up and gave him the saddest pout he'd ever seen. Your eyes were red, and tears were still streaming down your face.

"I thought I was the only girl," you responded, realizing just how silly it sounded as you said it to the blue-eyed boy in front of you. Your eyes danced over his perfect jawline, his luscious lips, and his thick brown hair. He's gorgeous; of course he's going to be getting women's numbers, you thought to yourself.

"Oh, sweet thing," Matt sympathetically answered, reaching out and wiping away a teardrop with his thumb. "I know we're not dating, but I thought I was special," you said, looking down. Matt tilted your chin up with a finger. "You are special."

"If I'm so special, why are you flirting with other girls and getting their numbers?" You wondered, your gaze meeting his. "She gave me her number. I didn't even ask for it. She was flirting with me all night, and your brother was too drunk to notice I wasn't interested in her," Matt chuckled.

You knew Matt could have been lying to you, but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt so badly. "You promise?" You asked. "I promise," he said, reaching up and interlocking his pinky with yours. "I'll prove it to you," Matt said, sliding his phone out of his pocket and holding it so you could both see.

He went to his contacts, found her information, and deleted it. You raised your eyebrows, looking back up at him in shock. You didn't expect him to do that, but it did make you feel like what the two of you had was significant to him.

"You know, if you're gonna get all jealous on me and have me deleting girls' numbers for you, you gotta let me take you out on a proper date first," Matt whispered, smiling at you, and you smiled back. "Really?" You asked, sounding surprised. "Really. Come here," Matt said, pulling you closer to him.

He gestured for you to sit on his lap at the edge of your bed, and you did. "You know. You're the only girl I've done anything with since I've been back from college. But I have to know. Do I have any competition?" Matt asked, the corner of his lip turning up into a smirk. "No," you giggled.

"Yeah? So I'm the only guy who gets to see these?" Matt cooed, his hand wandering up towards your breast and gently squeezing it. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded at him. He started to take down the straps of your dress, seductively slipping them off your shoulder and letting your neckline fall, revealing your tits to him.

"And I'm the only guy that gets to do this?" Matt asked, closing his lips down around the sensitive bud on your chest. You let out a satisfied sigh and nodded while you held eye contact with him.

He started pulling up the hem of your skirt and tracing the insides of your thighs with his fingers. A faint moan passed through your lips as Matt teased you through your panties, brushing his fingertips over your heat and applying a bit of pressure.

He pushed the thin fabric to the side and made direct contact with your pussy, rubbing your clit in circles while he twirled his tongue around your tender nipple, humming against it. "Oh, Matt," you whimpered, tossing your head back and slamming your eyes shut.

"Gotta stay quiet, sweet thing. Your brother thinks I'm comforting you right now," Matt whispered, smiling at you. And in a way, he was. Everything about Matt's presence, his touch, and the way he spoke to you was comforting.

You tightly gripped his arm, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from making too much noise. He delicately ran his fingers up and down your slit, positioning them in front of your entrance. As Matt slid them inside of you, you let out a strangled moan.

"Good girl. You take my fingers so well," Matt purred, curling his digits inside of you while he thrust them in and out. He started drawing circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb, intensifying the sensation.

Your whole body trembled, and your pussy started throbbing as you finished onto Matt's fingers. "Shhh," Matt hushed you, his lips brushing against your chest as you let out a final whimper.

Your heartbeat was racing, and you stared at Matt wide-eyed, wondering if your brother had heard you. Matt licked his fingers clean and as if reading your mind, he chuckled and whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart. You weren't as loud as you think you were."

You gave him a shy smile, trying to catch your breath. "I wish we could do more, but your brother's waiting for me to come back and let him know how our talk went," Matt replied, staring into your eyes. You nodded.

He kissed you and helped you put the straps of your dress back on over your shoulders. "I'm sorry I made you cry, sweet thing," he soothed you, rubbing your back.

You were completely smitten with him. You just hoped he'd keep his word and take you out on a real date. Matt tucked his erection into his waistband and made his way back into your brother's room without him suspecting a thing.

He assumed Matt had spent the last twenty minutes explaining that you guys were just platonic friends and how nothing romantic would ever happen between the two of you.

"She take it well?" You brother asked. Matt smirked to himself about the word choice he'd used. "Oh, she took it really well."

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴

"Let's invite your sister to watch with us," Matt casually suggested after he and your brother had decided on a movie the next night. "Why are you so obsessed with my sister lately? I swear, at one point, she used to annoy you," your brother said, giving Matt a disgusted look while he rummaged through the DVDs.

"Why do you still treat her like she's a little kid?" Matt shrugged, avoiding his question. "Fine, go invite her to watch it with us," your brother shooed him off.

Matt approached your door and gently knocked a few times until you answered. You came to the door, looking up at Matt with your big, doe eyes. Your heart fluttered, and you felt your face grow warm. Your older brother's best friend, Matt, had always made you nervous, but sneaking around with him was making it much worse.

"Hey. We we're gonna watch Back to the Future. You wanna come join?" Matt asked, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. "I'd love to," you said, eagerly smiling.

"And maybe you can sit on my lap after your brother falls asleep," he lowered his voice, licking his lips and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You nodded, following him out into the hallway and trying to hide how flustered he made you with his words.

You and Matt grabbed some crochet blankets and fluffy pillows out of the hallway closet and brought them into the living room. The two of you collpased onto the couch as your brother was loading up the movie.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go grab snacks," he said, disappearing out of the room to go make popcorn and leaving you and Matt alone. "I have something for you to hold while we watch," Matt smirked over at you. "What is it?" You naively asked.

The blue-eyed boy reached into the waistband of his sweats, his cock recoiling out of the cotton material. Your eyes widened, and you let out a soft, audible moan at the sight.

"What I want you to do is be a good girl and wrap your hand around it like this. Then I want you to touch it like this for me, okay?" He groaned as he started stroking it and brushing the tip with his thumb.

You nodded in agreement, feeling your panties growing wet as you intently focused on what he was doing. You replaced his hand with yours and started pumping it back and forth for him, caressing the head with your thumb like he showed you.

"Yes. Good girl," Matt hissed, pulling the blanket over his lap. "Now keep doing that, but I'm gonna need you to be discrete about it, okay? Can't let your brother know what you're doing under there while we're watching the movie," he said, stroking your face. You caught your lip between your teeth and nodded enthusiastically, excited by his idea.

Your brother walked back into the room with popcorn in hand, and Matt propped up a pillow to block his view from the secret activity you were partaking in. It was very risky, but Matt couldn't control himself around you. He was addicted to the thrill of nearly getting caught with you, and he liked pushing the boundaries of what your brother would and wouldn't notice whenever he could.

"You guys ready for me to start the movie?" He asked, remote in hand. "Mhmm," you both answered in unison.

"Hey, Matt. Buddy. Hands where I can see them. You're sitting awfully close to my sister," your brother snarked at him. Matt put both his hands in the air and mockingly waved them in his direction. Guess he was worried about the wrong pair of hands.

Your brother focused back on the movie as Marty McFly came onto the screen. You kept your movements subtle, but to Matt, they were monumental. A soft moan passed through his lips that thankfully went undetected by your brother.

The two of you were getting high on adrenaline, engaging in such risky behavior, and Matt was so smug and arrogant, so sure that he could talk his way out of anything even if the two of you did get caught.

"You're doing a really good job, sweet thing," Matt whispered in your ear, tightening his grip on the arm of the couch while you slowly massaged his shaft. You felt a wet, sticky fluid beneath the pad of your thumb as you ran it back and forth over Matt's swollen tip. "Good girl. Just like that," he quietly praised you.

"What are you two whispering about over there, huh? You gonna let me in on the secret?" Your brother scoffed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Just about how paranoid you are," Matt replied, trying to conceal his pleasure, and you giggled at Matt's joke.

Your brother rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the TV. You and Matt subtly glanced at each other, reveling in your little secret.

Your brother was notorious for falling asleep during movies, and tonight was no different. Thirty minutes in, and he had already dozed off on the opposite side of the couch.

Matt playfully tossed a throw pillow in his direction, which bounced off his leg and hit the floor. He didn't stir. Matt's eyes traveled back to you. "I think he's out," he whispered, seductively grinning while he imagined all the naughty things he was about to do to you.

"Come here, sweet thing," Matt whispered, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped as his hard cock poked you in the backside. "Just grind on it for a minute," Matt cooed, resting his hands on your waist and helping you rock back and forth on his lap while you faced away from him.

You could feel him throbbing beneath you as you rolled your hips forward, letting out a delighted sound, the friction creating a wonderful sensation against your heat. The movie continued faintly in the background, but neither of you were paying attention at this point.

"Let's get you out of these," Matt quietly mumbled, pulling down your shorts and your panties. You glanced over at your brother to make sure he was still soundly sleeping, your heart beating out of your chest.

"Sit on it for me, sweet thing," the blue-eyed boy beneath you directed you. You bit your lip to hold back a gasp as Matt's tip breached your entrance. You lowered yourself onto his length, feeling every inch as he let out a pleased hum.

This position offered deeper access than the others you and Matt had done, and it took everything in you to keep your mewls to a low volume as his cock filled you. "Bounce on it for me, pretty girl," he quietly directed you, running his hands along the curve of your waist.

You began to ride him, and you could hear his low groans beneath you as he gripped your hips, his fingers pressing against your warm flesh. He guided your movements, helping you bounce up and down on him more easily.

You were so wet, your juices started dripping down the sides of Matt's shaft, making it even easier for him to slide in and out of your hole. It didn't take long before your muscles started growing weak from how much leg work you were putting in, and your soft whimpers turned into slightly frustrated groans.

"Getting tired, princess?" Matt cooed. "Mhmm," you quietly responded. "Don't worry. I've got you," Matt answered, tightly gripping your hips.

He held you in place and began pistoning his cock into you at an incredible speed. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he slammed into you over and over.

You felt pressure building inside of you as Matt whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you what a good girl you are, how well you treat his cock, and the rest of his praises were drowned out by the ringing in your ears as you started to reach your climax.

Your and Matt's fervent moans filled the room as he drove his rod into you faster and harder, but his thrusts came to a dead stop when your brother began to shift around on the couch beside you. "Shhh," he hushed you, cupping his veiny hand over your mouth and hoping not to wake the sleeping man to your right.

The two of you held completely still. Your breath was caught in your throat. You were frozen in fear, your heart beating out of your chest as you sat on Matt's lap wide-eyed.

You tensed up, your walls clamping down around Matt's cock, creating a wonderful sensation for him. He almost couldn't help himself from continuing to fuck you, but he had to make sure your brother was still sound asleep.

Matt took another throw pillow and tossed it at him, and he started to snore again. Matt removed his palm from your lips. Before you could start bouncing on him again, Matt shifted your position in one fell swoop.

Suddenly, you were laying on your side, Matt was spooning you, and he was holding your left thigh out of his way while he started propelling his hips forward again. "Good girl. Stay quiet for me. We're gonna make this fast," he rasped into your ear.

You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that a few weeks prior, you were a virgin, and you now you couldn't imagine your life without sex with Matt. You craved him every second of every day, and every moment that he wasn't buried deep inside of your drooling hole, you wanted him to be.

You were teetering on the verge of orgasm, pressing your hand up to your mouth to keep your satisfied sounds muffled while your eyes rolled back into your head.

"Good girl. Cum all over my cock," Matt cooed into your ear, drilling into you with incredible speed. You felt the knot in your stomach snap as you relinquished control. You felt all the tension leave your body as you rhythmically spasmed around his swollen cock.

"That's it. Take it," Matt whispered, his length throbbing as he released his sticky seed into you, slowing down his movements after the two of you had finished. You both looked over in the direction of your brother, who was sound asleep and completely unaware of the depraved behavior that was taking place just a few feet away from him.

Matt slowly pulled out of you, trying to keep the mess to a minimum as the two of you slowly shifted around on the couch. Matt slipped his dick back into his sweats, and he helped you climb back into your shorts. "That was really hot," Matt said, breathlessly, collapsing back into the couch.

You curled up beside him, nuzzling into his chest while he caressed your back for you. He reached down and tipped your head up with your chin before pulling you into a long, drawn-out kiss.

His lips enveloped yours, his tongue inviting itself into your mouth. Matt's hand cradled your face while the two of you lost yourselves in a passionate make out session.

The two of you had pulled away from your romantic kiss, and your heartbeat and breathing pattern had returned to an almost completely normal rate when your brother started tossing and turning.

Matt cleared his throat and put a bit of distance between himself and you as your brother came out of his deel sleep. His eyes fluttered open as the end credits started to roll on the screen.

"Shit. How long was I out for?" He asked, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "Pretty much the whole movie," Matt teased him, getting up from the couch and helping your brother to his feet.

Matt gave you another wink as the two boys started to wander out of the room. "Come on, let's get you into bed, sleeping beauty."

part five here ❣️

taglist: @thepubeburgler @realqueenofpepsi @sturnslutz @purpledreamertyphoon @moosegirl96 @idrk2292 @sturnslutt @yummyest @madisturni @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ' ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ɢᴏᴅ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙

1K notes · View notes