#honey it’ll never end

[daydreamerdrew]

I was thinking about how Steve calls Bucky “Bucky boy” during his hallucination of Bucky in Tales of Suspense (1959) #82 and how the ‘real’ Bucky wouldn’t like that. and then I remembered that even Sam, who didn’t personally know Bucky when he was young, refers to Bucky as the “kid” when talking to Steve in Captain America (1968) #606… he’s in his 30s. sorry, Bucky, you’ll never escape being thought of as younger than your peers/friends

[bimbobaggins69]

welcome to the dungeon…

modern sex shop steddie x only fans reader

summary: it’s just your luck that the two men you planned to shoot a scene with canceled last minute. It’s also just your luck that your usual sex shop you frequent is closed, leaving you to make a thirty minute trip ending up in a town called Hawkins… it’s also just your luck that the two men behind the counter totally know who you are and might perhaps even be willing to shoot that scene with you?

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, mentions of weed, overuse of pet names, overuse of the word cock (not sorry), sex on camera, oral sex (male & fem receiving), rim job (male receiving), p in v sex & p in a sex (fem receiving), double dipping (don’t recommend), use of an anal plug, full nelson position, double penetration, daddy kink, squirting, cream pies, dom!eddie, switch!steve, sub!reader, flufffff.

authors note: absolutely no one asked for this, but I felt v compelled to write it. Thank you to my loves @take-everything-you-can, @corrodedcorpses and @xxhellfiregirlxx for beta reading, appreciate you all so so much <333.

wc: 9.4k

Part two | series masterlist

Thirty minutes… your gps says the only other sex shop near you is thirty minutes away, in a town you’ve never even heard of before. Harkins or Hawkins, something like that?

Of course, if anything could go wrong today it most definitely will. And has.

It all started when you spilled iced coffee all over the front of your new white dress, then your favorite vibrator went out, you also seemed to misplace your butt plug which in your line of work is a travesty… then the two men you had planned a collab with had to cancel last minute.

That’s the last time you ever plan to work with a couple.

So now you’re in your car, listening to your favorite Spotify playlist while your hair whips through the wind.

Making it into Hawkins was so underwhelming, you could never live in a town like this… no chance in hell. You begrudgingly roll up your windows when the smell of cow shit wafts through the air.

God, if the sex toys suck I swear it’ll be my thirteenth reason.

“The destination is on your left.” Siri's voice echoes through your speakers.

You pull into a parking spot right up front, luckily the lot seemed to be pretty empty. You gather your purse and phone before allowing your eyes to flicker along the building now in perfect view—

The bricks were painted black, the store seemed as if it went on for ages and the red LED sign that read “the dungeon” seemed to taunt you.

You would’ve totally mistaken this place for some kind of bdsm club had you not known it was a sex shop. Clearly this town isn’t as conservative as it seems.

“Welcome to the dungeon!” The boy behind the counter sweetly recites with a welcoming smile. His honey brown eyes immediately catch your attention, along with his pretty brown head of hair.

Oh he’s cute!

“Thank you.” You smile back while hesitantly walking up to him, you quickly decide it’s best to just ask where the things you need are located instead of having to look around mindlessly, considering this was one of the biggest sex shops you’ve been in.

“Hi,” you purr while leaning up against the counter, “I need help looking for a few things.” Leaving your cleavage perfectly on display for the pretty boy in front of you.

“Oh yeah, sure, what are you looking for?” He shoots you a charming smile before leaning in closer to you.

“butt plugs, lube and vibrators.” You divulge with a pretty smile.

“Mmm, yeah I can help you find all of that. Let me just call my partner up here to take over.” He says with a wink.

You allow yourself to ogle at him a bit as he talks almost secretively over a walkie talkie; you observe his light brown eyes that twinkle with excitement, to the pretty beauty marks that seem to litter his skin, to the way his hair perfectly coifs.

“Alright, Eddie should be up here soon to take over.” He announces with a beaming smile.

“Thanks Steve.” You respond with a flirty bat of your lashes.

He looks at you for a moment as if a deer caught in headlights before his eyes shift down to his name tag, reminding himself it was in fact still pinned to his black shirt. A black shirt with red print of said sex shop; that hugged his biceps and chest so perfectly, that also showed off those speckled and toned arms that you now realized were spotted with a few tattoos.

You hear shuffling footsteps as another cute boy with wild wavy hair and even more tattoos walks up from behind you, his face is adorned in a knowing smirk as he hungirly looks you up and down.

“Alright, I’m here.” He declares before giving Steve a playful slap to his ass.

Steve rolls his eyes as his cheeks flush.

“Right this way.” He murmurs before looking back to the boy behind the counter and nodding as if Eddie had mouthed something to him.

Curious

“So, what brings you all the way to Hawkins?” Steve asks as he walks a couple steps ahead, his hands nervously shoved in his pockets.

“The shop I usually go to in Indy was closed so.. I had to drive like 30 minutes out of the way to come here.” You huff in exasperation.

“Oh I’m sorry about that…well we have the best sex toy selection in all of Indiana if that's any consolation.” His eyes nervously find yours before giving you a little smirk.

“Yeah, I see that. I’m surprised actually, never thought I’d find a sex shop like this in such a small town.”

“Well, you know what they say.. small towns have the biggest freaks.” He says with a laugh that makes your lower stomach flutter. He’s so pretty.

“Do they say that?” You giggle with a teasing raise of your eyebrows.

“I mean that’s what I’ve heard.” He shrugs his shoulders before licking at his bottom lip. “Okay, butt plugs… here we are.” He presents with a wave of his hand, showing off the wide selection and varieties.

“Oh wow,” is all you say as you let your hands skim over the array of silicone, metal and glass toys.

You grab a long metal plug, the packaging says the ridges are sensation bumps, which piqued your interest immediately.

“That ones my favorite.” Steve says with a bashful smile.

“Oh yeah? You use it on your girlfriend a lot or..?” You question as you internally pray he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“No…I um, I use it on myself or my boyfriend… Eddie he’s uh- me and him are together.” He finally spits out.

“Oh okay, cute.” Is all you say, before grabbing the recommended plug that you’ve now noticed has a pretty red jewel at the bottom.

Your old baby was a pink silicone with just a regular white jewel, but you were excited to play with the ridges on this new one.

You grab a bottle of lube off one of the shelves before you and Steve make your way in complete silence towards the vibrators.

Steve was now a mystery to you, considering you knew he’d been flirting with you… also the way they both eyed you up and down? They had to be into women too, right?

We’ll see.

Once Steve shows you to the vibrators you snatch up the exact one that went out on you, it was your favorite and you weren’t in the mood to switch up what brought you ample amounts of pleasure.

“She knows what she wants..” Steve says with a low rasp that was doing no favors for your panties.

“This thing gives me back to back orgasms.” You say with a playful tilt of your head.

“Oh does it? Interesting.” He murmurs with a nod of his head, the look on his face was too cocky as if he knew something you didn’t.

He couldn’t have seen my videos, right?

“I’m gonna take a look at the lingerie and then I’ll be ready to check out in a bit.” You declare before giving Steve one last sweet smile.

You walk up to the counter with a handheld basket of the toys you came for a long with some pretty lingerie sets and a couple pairs of crotchless panties.

Eddie and Steve are standing huddled together, facing away from the register, talking rather secretively as the metalhead shows the pretty boy something on his phone. They quickly break apart when they notice your arrival.

Hmm, that’s suspicious.

“Hey,” Eddie greets with a smirk, “find everything, okay?” He asks before a shaky exhale.

“Mmhm, Steve was a big help.” You say coyly as you take everything out of the red basket one by one, setting it on the counter to be rung up.

“I bet.” His smile gets devilish as he shoots a look at the blushing boy behind him.

“So how’s your day going?” He continues to probe.

“Honestly, not great…” you pout while studying the boys faces closely for their reactions. “Well, it’s better now that I’ve gotten these …” you say pointing to the plug and vibrator. “But, I had a collab scheduled and well the two guys I was supposed to work with canceled on me at the last minute, and I guess I’m just really horny and frustrated.. ya know?” You feel your frustrations finally coming to the forefront as a lump forms in your throat.

“Hmm, a collab?… what kind of collab?” His cocky smile manages to send a shiver down your spine. Oh, these boys were making you feel things you haven't in years.

You can also totally tell he’s fishing, he already knows, that was confirmation enough but you decide to go along with their ruse.

“I do only fans, so it was supposed to be a bisexual threesome. Probably some dp, frotting, a daisy chain.. things like that.” You list away as both boys' eyes widen at your frankness.

“Shit.” You hear Eddie mumble under his breath as he shifts in front of you.

“Me and uh, me and Stevie here have always wanted to um, ya know, do a threesome with a chick.” He confesses as the redness from his cheeks travel down along his long tattooed neck.

“Have either of you ever been with a woman before?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah, w-we both have, before we started dating.” Steve answers quickly.

“Oh okay, so you both like women too, or…?” you continue to indulge in your curiosity.

“Absolutely we do, sweetheart.” Eddie snickers, “especially ones who are up for taking two men at once.” He winks with a seductive lick of his plump lips.

“Down boy.” Steve chides, as he rolls his eyes at his boyfriend's brashness.

“He’s a bit shy, don’t mind him.” Eddie whispers with a downright devious smirk.

“Shy boys are my favorite to play with.” You say towards Steve with a wink.

“You hear that big boy?” The metalhead guffaws.

Big boy…

How could you not be immediately intrigued by words like that?

“So O.F. huh?” Eddie smugly asks “ya know, you do look pretty familiar, maybe we’ve seen your stuff.”

“Maybe you have…” you say before pulling out your phone to pull up your most recent video, it was a solo vid of you fucking your self with a pink dildo while your ass was stuffed full of your beloved anal plug (rip)

Before clicking on the video for their viewing pleasure, a username catches your eye: @bigboyandhellfire. Judging by the fact that Eddie called Steve big boy and Eddie’s throat tattoo so clearly reads ‘hellfire’ you’re now more than positive they are subscribed to you and they’ve liked your most recent video.

The throb between your thighs pulses and you’re trying so hard not to clench them together as tight as they’ll go.

“Hey, are you both busy after this?” You examine as both their faces shift to equal amounts of interest and curiosity.

You had balls, you had big fucking balls but you already knew that. You’d never been the type to shy away from anything, you’ve always been an “i’ll try anything once” kind of girl so it shouldn't surprise you that you propositioned two of your subscribers you met at a sex shop no less, to shoot content with you.

After their shift you had all gone out for some food and drinks. You were able to get a taste for their personalities and in turn it helped you feel much better about your compulsive decision.

You learned they were truly great guys, who were very in love, but also had so much extra love to give… by the end of the night it felt as if you’d known them forever, almost like you had fit so perfectly into their already incredible relationship.

You'd never really considered polyamory for yourself, which is surprising in your line of work as you have tons of friends who are very poly and proud. You just never thought you'd find more than one person who’d love you and willingly share you as all of your exes were jealous little shits, but now you’re completely rethinking any stances you've had on basic monogamous relationships for yourself.

After all of Eddie's dirty but hilarious jokes and Steve's absolute charm you explained to the boys how things worked; positions for the perfect shots, things they were into and things you were into, as well as hard limits between you all. You couldn't believe how much in common you had with them, sexually. That almost never happens with other creators.

The last and most important thing you needed from them before going any further were negative test results. The plan was for them to get tested, have the pdf file sent over to you to prove they were both clean and then they were to meet you at your apartment that night.

“You ready, big boy?” the metalhead beams over to his boyfriend before they swiftly exit their shared jeep.

“Hey, you alright over there?” Eddie asks with concern as he drapes his heavily tattooed arm over Steve’s broad shoulders.

“Yeah no, I'm fine. Just nervous I guess.” He softly admits as he and Eddie cross the street, making their way into the clinic.

“Nervous to get tested or nervous to fuck our dream girl?” Eddie snorts at his own words.

“Honestly, a bit of both.” Steve confesses as he shyly cowers away into his boyfriend's chest, Eddie has always found Steve’s coy shyness utterly adorable, he wanted so badly to eat him up everytime he put his pretty head of hair into his chest or on his shoulder.

“I know I'm clean, since ya know i’ve never gone without a rubber, but I don't know, it's still nerve wracking I guess.” the honey eyed boy disclosed with a harsh breath into his boyfriend's neck.

“We’ll be alright, baby. It’ll be worth it, I mean how long have we been subscribed to her and how often have we come to the idea of her being between us?” Eddie acknowledged a little too loudly as the women in line ahead of them turned back to give them a disapproving look, making Steve’s cheeks tinge the sweetest shade of pink.

“Will you keep it down?” he sharply whispers into his boyfriend's brown waves, making Eddie cackle in amusement.

After an hour of leaving the clinic and grabbing some food as they awaited the results, they both get a ding on their phones. Steve’s eyes widen as he continues to chew on an extra big bite of his burger before harshly swallowing it down and cautiously grabbing his phone, as Eddie grabs his without a care in the world. To be fair Steve was much more sexually active before him and Eddie had gotten together; as in Steve had a huge hoe faze his Junior and Senior year of high school and although he had never forgotten to use protection, there was still a chance he could have caught something, or at least that’s what Steve’s anxiety riddled brain keeps telling him.

He stares at the results as a loud exhale is shared between the couple.

Steve catches his boyfriend's eye as his face scrunches up in confusion.

“I thought you weren't nervous?” He asks as a relieved smile spreads across his face.

“I never said that, I just have to be the brave one and talk you off the ledge. But believe me that shit is nerve inducing for anyone. Hell, I'd be nervous even if I still had my v card.” The metal head guffaws, popping a fry he’d dipped in his vanilla shake into his mouth, making Steve grimace in disgust at his boyfriend's condiment of choice.

“Yeah, true.” He quickly agrees.

Steve never thought to get tested or to make this big of a fuss about it, but after seeing the results, it left him with a sense of relief for something he may have subconsciously been worried about.

“WOOH!” Eddie shouts with excitement, “you ready to do this, Stevie?” He asks with the biggest, brightest smile while scanning his boyfriends beautiful face.

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

“Michelle, are you even listening to me?” You pout into your phone's camera while on a somewhat grainy facetime chat with your beautiful bombshell of a best friend who seems to be occupied by the little smoke sesh/kick back she is hosting, the only one you’ve ever missed.

“Yes bitch, of course I am.” She says with slight annoyance, “come on, show me the options.”

You set up your phone on one of the many tripods that sit facing your bed before backing away with two sets of lingerie, “Okay, so I have this baby pink set or this like, deep blood red set with the knee high stockings and garter belt.” You say with a slight tremble to your voice that reaches your hands.

This is so not you, you’re never nervous to shoot content with even the biggest names…so what is it about these two boys that have you anxiously awaiting their arrival?

“Oh, def the blood red one, its fucking hot!” Michelle growls the word ‘hot’ into the speaker, slightly distorting the sound before you see a cloud of smoke billowing from her mouth.

“Yay! That's the one I was gonna choose anyway, since it matches my new butt plug.” You squeak in excitement.

“You fuckin’ freak.” Your best friend guffaws, “Maybe you and your boy toys can come through after y'all are done with your little fuckfest.”

You giggle at her choice of words as you begin to remove your robe and slip into the red lingerie set, foregoing the panties so you can lube and stretch yourself out for the buttplug you want to have inserted before Steve and Eddie show up.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask if they’re up for it when we finish.”

Finally, your hair and makeup are close enough to perfection, your lace set was on and hugging all the right curves on your body along with the knee highs and garter belts, your butt plug was sitting nice and snug inside your recently waxed puckered hole.

You begin to set up the ring lights around your room brightening the two in the front to max brightness as you've already lost sunlight, then you perfectly angle your tripods towards your big 70’s inspired circular bed, adorned with black silk sheets.

Once you’re setting out the lube and different toys you think the boys would be into, you hear the doorbell ring and all the busying you've been doing to try and calm your mind from complete and utter nervousness is now null and void as it all comes rushing back within an instant.

You saunter downstairs practically slipping on oak wood floors, no thanks to your nylon stocking like knee highs that hug your dainty feet.

Reaching the door, you pull it open with slight aggression that you can only blame on the anxious beating of your heart, here you are opening the door in nothing but lingerie yet that’s not even the part you’re nervous about. No, you're never nervous about showing your body off, as you’re quite proud of it, instead you're nervous because these two beautiful boys that you had an instant connection with will be in your presence, you have to keep reminding yourself they already like you, they’re subscribed to you for fucks sake, so there has to be some type of attraction there.

‘Just be yourself and you'll be fine’ is what you repeat like a mantra in your mind, something you haven't repeated since you were the new kid in 6th grade, entering into an unknown world of small town life in the midwest.

“Fuck me.” The long haired boy gasps under his breath as he eyes you up and down, his pretty boy boyfriend stands beside him with his mouth agape in shock, half lidded eyes and a soft and sweet blush to his cheeks.

“Come inside and I will.” You giggle as you take the expensive looking champagne they had brought along. You can always appreciate the people that don't show up to a shoot empty handed.

They step inside, curiously looking around your ‘too big for just you, house’.

“Do you live alone?” Steve questions shyly as Eddie continues to shamelessly check you out.

“I do, so you don't have to worry about anyone interrupting or listening in.” You add in an attempt to ease his tense shoulders that have been that way since you opened the front door. Even though you were nervous you wanted to make them as comfortable as possible, since this was their first time doing anything of this nature.

“So, you live in this big ass house all alone?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Yup, a big three bedroom house just for me. My roommate just moved out actually, so I've got the place to myself now. It's not so bad, unless you know of anyone who's looking to live with a porn making roomie?” you say with a smile and hand propped under your chin, in a cute pose.

The boys both smirk as they continue to eye everything up, as if in high interest of the offer you had just given them, well not them specifically but someone they knew. But their lease to their shitty apartment was almost up and they had been talking about moving out of Hawkins and to the city, nothing was keeping them in that shit hole town and there were so many more opportunities in indy. Maybe it was something they could bring up later.

“So… how do we start this?” Eddie questions, his usual cocky facade slipping as he cracks his knuckles out of nervousness.

“Well once I hit record, we just kinda start it how ever you’d start just a regular fuck.” You say as you shrug your shoulders. “So, my phone is set up on this tripod, can one of you offer up your phone so I can set it up on this other one? I want as many angles as possible.” You ask sweetly as you point to the tripod that sits on the left corner of the bed.

“Yeah, you can use mine.” Steve quickly offers “the code is eddie or 33343.” He coyly asserts before his boyfriend is pulling him back to plant a big wet kiss to his lips.

That action alone made you throb between your thighs, Jesus you couldn’t wait to see how they’d make that burning feeling in your belly erupt.

You open his phone to a sweet background picture of him and Eddie; Steve kissing the metalheads cheek as a bashful looking Eddie, playfully flips off the camera.

You quickly open the camera and click the video option, before setting it onto the black base.

“Okay so, Eddie can I use your phone for like, close up and POV angles?” You ask as Eddie walks over and plops down onto your bed before leaning back to remove his phone from his side pocket. “You can use anything you’d like, princess.” He flirts with a wink, causing your stomach to swoop with butterflies.

He sets his phone down by the lube on your side table, for later.

After you’ve finished the setup process and helped the boys undress down to their boxers all while kissing each other, albeit without the cameras rolling which was so foreign for you, you never touched a costar if it wasn’t being recorded.

But you couldn’t help it, when you were lifting up Eddie’s shirt and he went in for a chaste kiss to your lips, the same one he planted on Steve earlier, It quickly heated up as he slipped his tongue into your mouth while you were unbuckling his belt.

Steve comes up behind you and whispers in your ear “is this okay?” Before he places a tender kiss to the side of your neck, causing a mean shiver to run down your spine, making both boys smile into your skin.

You nod to Steve’s question with a moan, before he begins to attack your neck with sweet yet sloppy kisses.

Both boys reach for your bra clasp on your back, unhooking it with ease and allowing it to quickly fall to the floor, only to be kicked out of the way.

You pull your lips away from Eddie’s to chase Steve’s, removing his shirt before kissing him with absolute hunger, causing him to groan into your mouth.

“Fuck, we have to stop before we don’t get anything recorded.” You giggle before walking over to the tripods. “Eddie, take his pants off.” You demand before you’re waiting behind the camera for the perfect time to hit the button.

Once Steve’s pants are off and he’s down to his black Calvin Klein briefs, you order them in what position to stand in; both facing the camera, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, beside your bed.

You hit the record button on both phones then saunter up to them, placing a kiss to each of their lips before dropping to your knees.

You look up at both boys as you bring your hands to rub them over their boxers, making them both hiss simultaneously.

You pull Steve’s cock out first and big boy is right! He has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and it instantly makes your mouth water. It’s so pretty and thick with the pinkest head, totally reminds you of how pink his cheeks get when he’s shy. God, it makes you want to stick his cock so far down your throat and never come back up for air.

Instead you kiss the tip before looking up at him, and licking away the yummy bead of precum that sits on his pretty pink slit. You make a whole show of it while holding it on the tip of your tongue so he and Eddie can see, before sensually bringing it into your mouth, moaning at the taste, “mmm, you taste so good.” You purr, as you take him fully into your mouth.

Both boys moan out at your little display.

You give Steve a couple hard sucks to his head before taking him back into your throat, bobbing your head and letting him fuck your mouth until your eyes water.

“Holy fuck.” The pretty boy groans as his head falls back, he places a rough hand through your hair and tightens the strands between his fingers.

Eddie, ever the impatient one, slides his checkered boxers down his legs and strokes at his hard almost equally girthy and long cock a couple times before he’s grabbing a handful of your hair and making you instantly pop off of Steve’s cock and on to his.

“That’s right baby, let us use you.” He groans as he begins fucking your throat.

You had all talked about this that night at the diner, you told them you enjoyed being used, you wanted them to pass you back and forth like a whore.

Eddie had a nice chuckle at that.

The curly haired boy grabs his phone off your side table, before opening the camera and hitting record as he continues to fuck your throat. All that could be heard were gawking noises and Eddie’s pretty moans and groans, after getting a close up shot of you pulling off of his cock and gasping for air as a string of spit falls out of your mouth and onto your tits.

Eddie passes the phone to Steve silently telling him to record.

Once his hands are free he cups underneath your chin and threads his ringed fingers back into your hair as he begins to fuck your throat with reckless abandon.

“Oh my fucking god, your throat baby. And no fucking gag reflex? Just taking it all aren’t you?” He growls as his head falls down towards his chest, getting a good look at how your tears have caused your makeup to smudge and smear, it’s the hottest thing the guys have ever seen.

“My turn.” Steve demands pulling you off from a particularly deep thrust Eddie had made, spit falling in strings to the floor and your thighs, but most landing on your tits, nipples so peaked and wet with your drool.

“Fuck yeah, get back on my cock you little slut.” Holy shit, where did shy little steve go? Cause whoa, you think you might like this version even better.

Steve fucks your throat until it’s sore before Eddie’s bringing you back to him, stuffing your face into his balls as you licked and sucked at them. “That’s right, dirty girl. Suck my balls. Fuck.”

You give a few more swipes of your tongue to his sensitive sack before you take both balls into your mouth, lightly sucking until you hear the sounds of smacking above you. Looking up to the beautiful sight of them making out, tongues and spit being passed back and forth, gives you a good idea.

You slip Eddie’s balls out of your mouth before grabbing both of their cocks at the base, they both look so huge with your dainty hands wrapped around them.

You bring both cocks up to your mouth, fitting them in as you open your mouth to maximum capacity. They break their filthy kiss as they groan, both sets of eyes falling down on you as you fit two huge cocks into your very skilled mouth, deepthroating as spit drips down their cocks.

“Such a messy girl.” Eddie tsks, as they simultaneously thread their hands into your hair, pushing you even deeper on their cocks, making their cock heads rub together so beautifully inside your mouth.

You remove your mouth again as you begin gasping for air. Steve still has the pov camera on you, as you begin to rub their spit soaked, pink cock heads together.

“Two of the prettiest cocks I’ve ever seen.” You say up at the camera with a giggle, making both boys smile and groan down at you.

You suck at Steve’s balls next as you continue to jerk both boys' cocks in each hand.

“Okay fuck. Get up here baby.” Steve growls as he lifts you up by your hair, not gentle whatsoever which is exactly what you asked him for.

Eddie pushes you down onto your bed, your butt sliding along the black silk sheets as you laugh at their absolute desperation; they need you as much as you need them, you can feel that want in the air.

Eddie wants you, Steve wants you, you want them and they want each other. It’s a beautiful dynamic. One you could get used to.

Focus.

“Let’s remove these pretty panties baby, need to see that even prettier pussy.” Eddie murmurs before he bends down and plants a sweet kiss to your inner thigh and another one on the other to match before he’s spreading your legs back towards your shoulders.

You’re certainly not used to your co stars being so soft and sweet towards you, it makes the throb in your clit amplify and your heart race with an unknown feeling.

“Fuck, look at that.” Eddie groans as your slick soaked pussy is now fully on display for both boys, making their eyes roll back at the way your sticky folds part with strings of your arousal keeping them connected, Steve is licking at his lips like a man ready to devour a four course meal.

It’s not a secret that both boys miss pussy, they love each other's bodies, no doubt about that. Steve loves getting stretched out on Eddie’s cock and Eddie loves to do the stretching, but fuck if they don’t miss the taste and feel of pussy too. They often talk about it in the throes of their passion, about how nice it would be for Steve to have a pussy to fuck into while he’s getting his guts rearranged by the metalhead, that kinda talk makes the pretty boy cum over Eddie’s fist every time, as he tries his best to mimick the warmth and tightness of a pussy with his hand, all while whispering absolute filth into Steve’s ear.

“Move up onto your pillows, sweet girl.” Eddie suggests as his fingers trace the red jewel attached to the plug that is nestled deep between your cheeks. You’re not really sure what they have in mind but you’re so far gone and you’re totally willing to give up all control to these two men, another thing you never do.

Once your head hits your pillows, your hair is fanned out around you and both boys are still eyeing your body like a snack, you slowly open your legs, hiking them up towards your shoulders like Eddie had you on the edge of the bed but this time both your arms keep them pulled back. They lick their lips as their cocks twitch at your flexibility, something they’ve seen in your videos as long time subscribers of yours.

“Jesus.” Steve whispers under his breath, grabbing the pov phone and walking on his knees to get a closer look for the camera and let’s be honest, himself.

“Damn, look at that soaking fucking wet pussy, it’s so ready to be fucked isn’t baby?” Steve asks as he brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles into it, making you jolt up as your eyebrows knit together and a pretty moan falls from your open lips.

“Yes, it’s so ready.” You agree with your subby little breathy voice they love so much.

“Soon baby, first we gotta get our tongues on you.” Eddie says as he come up to rest beside Steve, and if you think this is going where you think it is, it is very fucking welcome.

Steve removes his thumb from your clit, sticking it into his boyfriend's mouth, making Eddie moan around the younger boy's finger, at your taste.

They both lay on their stomachs between your hiked up legs, Steve has his hand on the outside of one thigh and Eddie has his hand on the other, they both bring their heads in at the same time to lick at your clit. The tip of their tongues rub against each other while your puffy sensitive clit is between their soft pink muscles, making your toes curl and your back arch from the intense pleasure.

“Fuck!” You moan loudly as you take the abandoned pov camera and point it down towards the boys, as they both look up at you.

Eddie winks and you’re not sure if it’s for the camera or for you but you continue to watch them on the screen, as they share and bully your clit. Steve spits on it making Eddie lick it up and off your throbbing bud, they both begin soft licks before Eddie grabs Steve’s head and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss, their faces still so close to your pussy you can feel Eddie’s stubble rub against your clit, making you moan out louder.

“Mmm, I gotta get an even better taste of your pussy.” Eddie mewls as he brings his tongue down to your hole, fucking you with it while Steve begins to lap at your pink swollen bud, again.

You’ve never felt such pleasure before.

“Holy shit, I’m g-g-gonna c-cum!” You whine as both boys speed up their ministrations.

“Mmm, cum for us, pretty girl.” Steve moans into your pussy.

Eddie removes his tongue bringing it back up to slide against Steve’s on your clit, before plunging two fingers inside of you and curling them, instantly hitting your sweet spot, making you thrust your hips up to chase their tongues and Eddie’s magic fingers.

“Fuck, I’m c-cumming!” You begin to shake, as your legs fight Eddie and Steve’s strong hands that are holding them down towards the bed.

They lick and finger fuck you through the longest and most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, before they’re removing their mouths and Eddie’s removing his fingers.

Steve opens his mouth with his tongue hanging out, like an obedient little slut as Eddie plunges his fingers into the pretty boy’s mouth making Steve close his lips and expertly sucks on the two fingers that were just deep inside you. It’s so fucking hot.

And you’re filming it all with the pov camera for your viewers pleasure, but let’s be honest it’s mainly for yours.

There’s no way you won’t look back on this video as you play with your vibrator in the exact position you’re in now, absolutely no way.

“I’ve gotta get my cock inside you.” Eddie pouts as he lays down towards the end of the bed in between both cameras as they focus on him perfectly.

You were excited to try this position you had all talked about, it’s not one you saw much of in mmf threesomes so you were happy to do something a little different.

You straddle Eddie’s waist, sitting on his thighs as his cock rests so prettily against his happy trail, reaching all the way up to his belly button. You let your eyes roam his body and the insane amount of tattoos that cover every inch of skin, they all look like they belong in some kind of fantasy novel.

Steve finally straddles Eddie’s face, his leaky cock sitting just above Eddie’s mouth as his pink asshole is displayed for you. You’ve given a couple rim jobs but holy shit, if you weren’t gonna enjoy eating Stevie’s little hole the most.

Steve’s head was resting face down in your pillows, but he had it angled to where you can see his reactions to all the pleasure you and Eddie were about to give him.

At almost the same time you grab Eddie’s cock that continues leaking copious amounts of precum, Eddie grabs Steve's from between his thighs.

You slowly sink down onto Eddie’s warm throbbing sex, before he's shoving Steve into his mouth to the hilt. Eddie groans around Steve’s cock as Steve groans out from Eddie’s mouth.

Finally when you’re stretched and ready to start moving you lower your head, bringing your tongue to Steve’s pretty, smooth hole giving it a couple licks before prodding it with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck, that so fucking good!” The pretty boy groans into your silk pillows as they get wet from the drool that drips from the side of his mouth.

While you’re rolling your tongue back and forth from Steve’s hole, over his gooch and towards his balls, Eddie expertly fucks Steve with his mouth.

Finally, the metalhead plants his feet onto the bed before he starts fucking up into your soaked pussy, making you moan out so loud, if you weren’t so cock drunk on these two men you’d probably be embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy feels amazing!” Eddie groans after popping off of Steve’s cock to catch his breath.

Eddie continues to pound into you, the angle you’re in is allowing him to hit your g spot perfectly, over and over until suddenly he has to stop, causing you to whine as you sloppily lap at Steve’s puckered hole.

“I’m gonna cum, I gotta switch positions.” He whispers into Steve’s inner thigh before he gives it a sweet kiss, all while landing a swift playful swat to your ass, causing your fucked out wet cunt to rub against his shaft that’s still dripping with your juices.

You quickly make your way off of Eddie so he can stand up, you’re allowing the boys to have full control as they seem to be very eager and excited for what’s happening, so you sit on your bed as your wet thighs and slick cunt ruin your sheets, waiting for directions.

“On all fours, now.” Eddie demands with a growl in his throat that could get you to do just about anything.

He walks to the dresser to grab the bottle of lube before making his way back with a devious smirk on his face, one that has you vibrating from the inside out.

“You’re gonna suck Stevie’s pretty cock while I double dip your pretty holes, how’s that sound princess?” He says as his hands come up to rub on your exposed ass cheeks, giving the right one a harsh smack. “I said how’s. that. sound?” He spits through his teeth,

“S-sounds good! Please!” Your needy whimper makes both boys laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. But you couldn’t lie, you loved the degrading feeling of it all.

“Such a needy little thing, isn’t she, baby?” Eddie smirks up towards his boyfriend who’s now laying flat on his back, the metalhead slowly removes your plug before pouring lube on his two fingers and bringing them to your still too tight rim.

“So fucking needy.” Steve agrees with a teasing laugh.

He prods at you with the tips of his fingers, slowly sinking two into your needy hole.

“Mmm.” Is all the only sound you can make around Steve’s girthy cock as Eddie begins fucking you on his long appendages.

Once you’re even more stretched to his liking, Eddie removes his fingers causing you to gasp from the equal amounts of pain and pleasure.

He grabs the meat of your cheeks, two handfuls pulling them apart as far as they’ll go before spitting right onto your already lubed up hole. The surprise action makes you yelp and buck your hips.

“Uh uh, none of that moving shit.” He tsks with a harsher slap to your ass, “you’re gonna lay there and take it like a good little slut, understand?” He grits before you can feel his breath harshly fan over the globe of your right cheek, he bites at the meat but it quickly turns into a rough suck, as he worships your ass while you continue to bob on Steve’s cock and occasionally tongue his hole.

“Yes sir!” You whine after popping off of one of Steve’s balls. You can tell the pretty boy is losing all resolve and he’s seconds away from cumming in your mouth, but you need them both inside of you, so you lazily stroke his cock with your hand as Eddie begins to push into your ass, causing you to cry out into Steve’s thigh.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, take it.” The metalhead spits before he’s grabbing your hair and pulling you back, making you release your hand from Steve’s throbbing cock, causing him to whimper in frustration.

Your back is now flushed with Eddie’s chest as he continues to move you with the handful of hair he has a hard unforgiving grip on. He harshly turns your head bringing your lips to his for a dirty, sloppy, mostly tongue, kiss.

“Mmm, you taste so good on our girl’s lips, Stevie.” Eddie groans as him and his boyfriend make eye contact while he continues to fuck deeper into your ass.

You’re so far gone you couldn’t even register or put any further thought into our girl.

“You both look so fucking hot together.” Steve confesses as he bites down on his bottom lip and takes his painfully hard cock into his own hand to stroke.

Eddie gives you one more kiss before he’s pushing your head back down into the mattress and taking his cock out before shoving it into your pussy, giving it a few strokes then moving back into your asshole and repeating. Your eyes roll back into your head as you whimper and moan into your sheets.

Steve comes up beside you to push your hair out of your face, pov camera in hand as he passes it to Eddie in order to get a good close up of the way he’s switching between your holes.

“Hi, pretty girl.” He coos with a soft smile, “You’re doing so fucking good, taking his cock so good, baby.” His praises cause you to tense up and shake, cunt and asshole squeezing Eddie like a vice.

“Don’t you fucking cum yet, hold it!” Eddie scolds, as he dips his cock one more time into your asshole, another harsh slap to your already burning skin.

Eddie pulls out of you, motioning for Steve to follow him. He whispers into his ear off camera, making the pretty boy hum and nod in agreement, a sly smirk gracing both of their faces.

“Come on, angel. Up.” Eddie demands with a snap of his fingers, you’re up and off the bed in a matter of seconds as you stand before both boys, stark naked aside from your thigh highs.

Eddie lays down on his back, still facing the cameras like he was when you rode him, but this time they’re both guiding you to sit on him while you also face the cameras, your ass on full display for the metalhead.

Steve grabs Eddie’s extremely stiff shaft as you straddle him backwards, he teasingly guides Eddie through your slick folds before he’s inserting the long haired boy's cock into your sopping wet pussy.

As you sink down slowly causing the boy behind you to hiss in pleasure, Steve guides your feet onto Eddie’s knees as your hands go back on Eddie’s chest to help keep you balanced.

Once you’re fully impaled on his cock, his silver rings slide against your delicate skin as he holds the backs of your knees up causing your feet to dangle in the air, giving Steve and the cameras the perfect view of eddie fucking into you, and all the pretty faces you’ll make.

Steve drops down to his knees as he observes the way Eddie’s cock squelches in and out of you and how tight you’re gripping him, along with the white ring of your arousal that has gathered at the end of Eddie’s shaft, Steve just wants to lick it off, and he will.

Eddie bounces you by the backs of your knees a couple more times before he’s lifting you up, his cock plops out of you but is quickly retrieved by Steve who takes it into his mouth, moaning as he tastes you and Eddie’s mixture, so heady and earthy but oh so fucking sweet.

He gives Eddie a few strokes before he moves up to lick at your pussy, shoving his tongue inside of you and shoveling some of your wetness out, savoring the delicious taste before he puts Eddie’s cock back inside of you, only to be bounced some more.

Eddie continues hitting your sweet spot, but you’re trying so hard, so fucking hard not to cum.

“That’s it baby, hold it for me. Hold it and I promise I’ll make you see fucking stars…me and Steve both will, okay?…fuck.” Eddie encourages with broken gasps.

He lifts you by the knees again, this time Steve eagerly pulls Eddie from your cunt and laps up your addicting flavor, rolling his tongue up from Eddie’s cock and into your folds, going straight to the source of the sweet nectar he craves, and then rolling his tongue from your clit down to eddies cock and sucking.

“Fuck you’re such a good boy, Stevie.” Eddie groans as his fingers dig into your skin where he still has a hold on you.

“Mmm, I could eat pussy and suck cock all day.” He hums in contentment, making you and Eddie giggle at his fucked out tone.

“That’s right, my little slut boy. Always so eager for daddy’s cock aren’t you?” Eddie chuckles in satisfaction “and now you have the prettiest cunt to eat from… fuck, daddy’s just spoiling you, aren’t I?”

Eddie’s words cause you to moan as you throw your head back, he had a fucking mouth on him and you loved every second of it!

“Mm, I think pretty girl over here likes that.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, before Steve is shoving Eddie’s cock back inside of you, the metalhead begins bouncing you back on his cock but this time he fucks up in to you, making you whimper and babble incoherent words.

“Do you, huh slut? You want me to be your daddy, too? Own this pussy and fuck it whenever I want?” Eddie groans as he throws his head back at how fucking good you feel, he can’t even believe he’s lasted this long, but fuck he’s trying his best to impress you, and maybe just maybe you’ll wanna do this with them again.

“Yes, daddy! Please!” You sob as your legs begin to shake, again.

Both boys practically growl at your words, they fucking love the idea of you being their’s.

Eddie lifts you one more time before he orders Steve to grab the lube and lather his cock with it, once Steve’s done he’s guiding Eddie’s cock into your asshole, watching with hungry eyes as you sink back down onto the metalhead. He’s so turned on by the way the ring of your hole looks being filled to the max by his boyfriend. God, it was so fucking hot.

Steve gives a quick lick to your puckered stretched out skin and up to Eddie’s exposed shaft, mid thrust before he adds a gentle kiss to your clit.

He stands up and gives his cock a couple strokes before he’s guiding himself into your pussy, to help his boyfriend stuff you full, until you’re cumming all over their cocks. Fuck, he couldn’t wait.

You all moan out in tandem as both boys fuck into you, Eddie still holding your trembling legs up and Steve is now holding you around your waist as you both moan into eachothers mouths.

Their thrusts get harder the closer you all get to your glorious releases.

“Oh fuck, okay baby, cum for us. Cmon.” Eddie growls, as his thrusts get even harder.

You’re all so fucked out and ready to cum as the moans throughout the room get louder.

Steve hasn’t stuck his cock in a pussy in years and he’s about two seconds from embarrassing himself and cumming the hardest he has in awhile.

Eddie’s trying his best to hold out, too. But your asshole keeps gripping him and he can feel Steve’s cock through your walls, and his big mouth wants to tell him how good he feels through you, but he knows if he vocalizes it, it’ll make both boys cum in an instant.

“Oh my god!” You finally wail as your legs shake so intensely, Eddie and Steve have to hold them still for you.

“There you go baby, cmon, give it to us.” Steve groans, as he brings his fingers down to your clit drawing soft circles to the overly sensitive pink bud.

Steve’s fingers bring you closer to the edge as a familiar burning in your belly courses through you.

You can barely hold your body up anymore as you tremble and shake, eyes rolling into the back of your head as that all consuming peak hits you harder than it ever has, a splash of liquid shoots out of you like a waterfall onto Steve’s stomach and down on Eddie’s thighs, causing both boys to gasp and moan in complete bliss as they now use you for their own gratification.

Steve loses it first with a loud whimper as his head falls back in pleasure, his beautiful head of hair swishing around on his forehead as he shoots his warm load of cum deep inside of you.

After Steve pulls out and takes a seat up amongst the pillows at the head of your bed, Eddie puts you into a complete full nelson as his hands lace behind your head, he fucks even deeper into you causing you both to scream out in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie howls as his hips come to a complete stop while buried deep inside of your tight, warm hole that continues to suck him in as he cums so much it begins to drip down his shaft. Getting the perfect shot for the cameras that are still rolling.

Eddie gently lifts you off, laying you on the bed close to Steve’s legs as you cling to them, peppering them with soft kisses while Steve runs a soothing hand through your hair.

Eddie takes his phone and records the white creamy cum that seeps from both of your used holes.

Fuck, he feels his cock twitch at the sight of you.

You’re a complete mess and both of your holes are leaking his and his boyfriend’s cum. He swears if this never happens again with you, this will be at the top of his spank bank for the rest of his life.

Eddie gets up to stop the cameras, coming back to give you and Steve a quick kiss before he’s going into your bathroom to search for a rag to clean you up with. He comes out with one of your rolled up white ones that are specifically for decoration, but you don’t have the heart to tell him they’re not to be used.

He brings the wet rag down between your legs and wipes until there’s no more cum seeping from your holes.

“I think this was the best collab I’ve ever done, like my subscribers are gonna love this! Thank you both so much.” You shyly say as you look from one boy to another.

“Of course baby, anytime.” Eddie says with a beaming smile.

“So, my best friend’s having a little hang out, smoke sesh at her house and she invited all of us after we were done with our fuck fest.” You say as you put fuck fest in air quotes, playfully rolling your eyes, making both boys to chuckle in amusement.

“We actually wanted to pop open the champagne and hang out with you, after. I also brought a little treat of my own.” Eddie teases as he picks his jeans up off of the floor and digs in one of the pockets, pulling out a nicely rolled blunt.

He waves it around with a bounce of his eyebrows, as if trying to entice you, before he sticks it behind his ear, for later.

“Okay, that sounds fun. I have a pool, we could go late night swimming.” You suggest to both boys, as they look at you in a way that sends the butterflies in your belly fluttering.

Steve breaks out into a big grin. “Fuck yeah, let’s go swimming.” He says as he jumps up out of your bed, reaching for his boxer briefs.

You stop him before he fully bends down, “how about late night skinny dipping?” You giggle when both boys eagerly nod in agreement.

“I like the way you think, baby.” Eddie says as he throws his arm over your shoulders, walking out of your room and down your stairs, with both boys at your side.

Steve grabs the champagne, then asks where he could find the flutes, before you’re all making your way outside into the fresh night air.

You flip the pool light on before you and Steve walk together, sitting side by side on the first step, warm heated water washing away the goosebumps that have formed on your leg as it rubs up against Steve’s.

He begins to pour you all a glass, as Eddie hands you his joint and lighter before he runs and jumps bare naked ass on display into the pool, making you and Steve cackle, you lay your head on his shoulder while you both continue to die of laughter.

“What are you both laughing at?” Eddie questions with a smirk and curious raise of his eyebrows.

“Your pasty ass.” You retort, making Steve laugh harder.

“Oh I see how it is, you’re ganging up on me now?” Eddie says with faux sadness as he swims closer to you and Steve, playfully grabbing both of your legs as if to try and drag you in, but you and Steve pull him in towards you.

Eddie kisses you first, as he holds your chin in place between his fingers, then he kisses Steve with the same amount of vigor, before Steve is kissing you.

You don’t think you can ever move on from this, it feels too right, like these are your people.

“So, about the roommate position?” Eddie inquires, “how would you feel if, say, two guys you know are very interested, like they would move in tomorrow if they could.” Both boys look at you with the biggest doe eyes, as if you’d say no, as if you wouldn’t want to have them live in this big lonely house with you, possibly starting a new chapter with these two men you have so quickly fallen for.

“I would say, abso-fucking-lutely.”

If your age is not in your bio, I did not tag you.

(Also, tagged everyone above age who interacted with the teaser of this)

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @lil-quinnie @danielabrandt @prettypeachsworld @youare-hackskellington @sebs-oxygen @livsters @wheel-of-hyperfixation @imonhereforareasonsadly @kingdomkitten32 @munson-magic @tiannamortis @katwinchester64 @the-unforgivenn @micheledawn1975 @josephquinnsfreckles @jasminelafleur @emsgoodthinkin @manda-panda-monium @munsonsuccubus @teletubbysteroids @eddies-puppet @munsonssecretblog @eddieslittlewh0re @itsgonnabeoktodsy @randomworker @starrthemushroom @imaautisticchicken @creativename01 @m-chmcl-rmnc @emmerson-1 @siouxiesiouxtryhard @munsonology @pillow-titties @cherryc1nnam0n @wyverntatty @spicedandicedtea @justmeinadaze @violettaskies @bebe07011 @devilinthepalemoonlite @lunatictardis

[stillmonsterz]

you know i'm down

pairing: jay x reader

genre: smut

summary: it's march 2020 and you're stuck in the house with your stepfather during lockdown. can the two of you keep it together?

warnings: stepcest, unprotected sex, swearing, dubcon, panty-sniffing, virus mention, COVID implication (?),

word count: 3.8k

--

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, things are getting crazy, but try to keep your head up, yeah? You’ll be safe,” Jay said into his phone, his forehead creasing as he spoke. His newly wedded wife had taken a trip to visit her mother shortly after their marriage, but now the government was advising that she stay where she was. The news was scaring her, and it scared Jay, too, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was her steadfast protector, her bastion, and so he reassured her that everything would be okay.

“And you’ll take care of her too, yes?” she asked firmly, referring to her daughter.

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of her like she’s mine,” Jay said, rubbing his forehead. “I promise.”

“You’re so good with her,” his wife said. “You know, she really likes you, right?”

“I really like her, too,” Jay said softly, and it was the truth. His wife and her daughter had moved in with him three short months ago, and neither of them had caused trouble. On the contrary: Jay wished that he could see more of her daughter so they could be closer. He wanted to be a good stepfather, but she was always holed up inside of her room.

They exchanged goodbyes, I love yous, and promises to stay safe, and then Jay was alone on the couch with his own thoughts. If he sat there for too long, stewing in fear, he would lose his mind. Jay turned the television on and checked the news. They were strongly advising people to stay put for at least two weeks, and Jay made a mental note to coordinate with his employees about this in a few hours. No point riling people up and forcing them to worry about work so early in the day.

Jay was sitting on the couch with lips set in a line when you had tentatively crept down the stairs, worry etched on your features. He turned the television off and assessed you carefully. You were so similar to your mother in stature and facial features, but Jay doubted that his wife would ever don the dolphin shorts and hoodie combination you were so fond of wearing. Of course, you made it look cute. You shuffled over to him, wringing your hands. 

“Mom really can’t come back?” you asked, hovering near the other end of the couch.

Jay nodded, setting his phone on the side table. “Yeah, they really want to curb the spread of the virus,” he said, smoothing his hands down his legs. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s a lot of food at her mom’s house, and she won’t be alone. It’ll only be two weeks.”

Your lower lip trembled, and you looked away from Jay as you tried to calm yourself down. You rubbed your hands along your arms, and Jay could see that you had goosebumps. “You don’t think she got it, do you?” you asked in a wavering voice. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.” When you refused, obstinately staring at the ground, his voice became firm. “Look at me.”

You lifted your head, and he spread his arms and gestured for you to come to him. He wrapped you in his embrace, rubbing your back. You leaned on him, kneeling in between his legs as you hugged him tightly. “There’s no way that she caught it,” Jay said soothingly. “She’s been with her family the entire time. She hardly went off their property.”

“I’m just so worried. I’ve never lived through anything like this before,” you said falteringly, pulling away so you could look at his face. Jay knew you were looking at him to check for chinks in his armor, a sign of doubt. He pulled his features into a convincing mask of resoluteness and confidence. 

“It’ll all be okay,” he said, running his thumb along your cheek. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to commute to school for two weeks.”

You chuckled, looking down as you smiled. “You’re right, Jay.” Jay liked that you didn’t try to call him Dad or Daddy. When he had first met you after a few months of dating your mom, he had been pleased to find that you weren’t the archetypal bratty stepdaughter. Instead, you were sweet and intelligent, and you hardly asked him for a thing. Jay stroked your hair comfortingly and kissed your forehead. 

“You wanna watch a movie together? Would you like that?” You nodded your assent, and Jay reached around for the remote and went on Netflix. He put something lighthearted on for you, and shortly after the movie started you rested your head on his chest. Belatedly, Jay realized that it might be somewhat inappropriate to hold you like this, with you curled up in his arms, kneeling between his legs. But you were so worried, and you needed a guiding figure there, so what else could he do?

Jay continued to rub your back as you watched the movie together. At some point, though, Jay’s attention permanently moved from the film onto you, and he studied your features closely. His wife was a very pretty woman, and started to realize that her daughter was a very pretty girl. 

Maybe this lockdown wouldn't be so bad, if he could get closer to you.

–

The next day, Jay took stock of everything in the kitchen. Thankfully, they tended to bulk-buy, so he didn’t think that they would have to go shopping for two weeks. Yesterday, you hadn’t eaten dinner, blaming your nerves for curbing your appetite. He decided to surprise you with a pancake breakfast. He smiled as he imagined you eating pancakes. You’d look so adorable with full cheeks…

As he started to gather the ingredients, he heard footsteps padding on the tiled floor. 

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Jay turned to face you, and his breath caught. You were rubbing your eyes, looking around the kitchen, and you were so cute. Jay swallowed thickly and returned his attention to the array of supplies in front of him. 

“Just making breakfast,” he mumbled. “Pancakes.” 

“Can I help?” He heard you come closer, and he could smell your body wash. It was fruity and playful; something from Victoria’s Secret or Lush, a store like that. It went so well with your natural fragrance, Jay had to resist the urge to sniff the air.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jay replied, kneeling down to find where the pans were stashed. It was his house, but his wife had reorganized the kitchen to her liking, so he had trouble finding things. 

“I want to help,” you said, and Jay looked up at you. A mistake. How could he refuse those earnest eyes of yours?

“Yeah, sure,” he said, hoping he came off as nonchalant. He gave you some instructions, well-aware that his voice was somewhat strained. Jay watched you bustle around the kitchen, shamelessly checking you out. Guilt nipped at him, but he reasoned that it was just looking. There was nothing wrong with looking. And when you wore little shorts like that, you were asking to be looked at, really. 

Jay snapped himself out of it and returned his attention to cooking. He flipped the pancakes without using a spatula, and you clapped. “I wish I could do that,” you said. 

“Here, I’ll show you.” Jay wrapped your hand around the end of the pan and covered it with his own. “You have to utilize a certain flick of the wrist, but put pressure on your index finger, your middle finger, and your thumb…” When you successfully flipped a pancake with his help, you giggled, and he felt warm. Like a proud father, he thought. Just like a proud father.

As you two ate breakfast together, he could see your happiness returning. You must have been so worried about your mother, and he was glad to see you shoveling pancakes in your mouth and laughing about some video your friend had sent you. 

“You’ve got syrup all over your mouth,” Jay said, smiling. Before you could wipe it yourself, Jay wet his thumb and wiped it off, relishing in the opportunity to touch your lips. “I bet you were such a messy kid,” he murmured.

“I was,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. “My mom was always running after me with Wet Wipes.” 

Jay chuckled at the thought, retracting his thumb. “I’m sure she didn’t mind. You were probably a cute kid, too.”

You groaned. “I was so cute. I have no clue what happened.”

You got pretty, Jay thought. 

“You think I’m pretty?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips, and Jay realized that he had carelessly complimented you. 

Jay cleared his throat. “Of course you are,” he said, desperately trying to center himself. “You look just like your mother.”

You nodded, still looking pleased with the compliment, and Jay could feel his heart racing out of his shirt. You were going to be the death of him.

–

The next day, after dinner, (another collaboration between the two of you), you had announced that you would do the laundry. Jay shook his head and handed his plate to you. “You do the dishes,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ll take care of the laundry.”

You begrudgingly took the plate and stacked it on top of yours. “I hate doing the dishes.”

Jay laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked past you. “Doing things you hate builds character,” he called behind his shoulder. 

As soon as he got upstairs, he made a mad dash to your bedroom to retrieve your laundry basket. He didn’t have a lot of time. Jay opened your door and bent down to examine the white hamper. Pawing through your clothes, he shakingly retrieved a pair of your panties. It was painfully conservative. Weren’t girls your age supposed to be wanton little sluts? He held it up, examining it closely. Common sense told him to put it back, morality told him to put it in the hamper, and his own conscience was screaming at him to just drop the fucking panties. But something stronger compelled him to hold the panties to his nose and sniff them deeply. Your scent was intoxicating, and he sighed. Jay took a few more deep sniffs before he dropped the panties back into the hamper and walked down to the laundry room. 

It was lockdown, he concluded as he set the basket down. Lockdown was driving him crazy, turning him into a libidinous beast. Never mind that it had only been three days - three days was enough. Three days of being forced to watch as your stepdaughter pranced around in shorts that just barely hid her tight little ass, of having to smell her, of knowing that there was pussy that he couldn’t get to…that would drive a monk to drink. As long as he didn’t act on it, Jay reasoned, he’d be fine. 

-

Over the next week, you and Jay had fallen into a routine. You ate breakfast together, then you dispersed to your separate rooms- you had to do online school, and Jay had to navigate running a business over Zoom. You would eat lunch together, discussing the virus, your problems, or just comfortably sitting in silence. 

Then you squirrel away back to your room. When that happened, Jay would generally do two things in an interchangeable order. He would either retire to his office and read a business management book or go over his emails, or he would rub his dick raw in his ensuite bathroom to the thought of stepdaughter pussy. Pornography wasn’t necessary; he could just close his eyes and imagine you in those stupid shorts, imagine you taking them off and crawling towards him, imagine his hands groping your forbidden body.

 After that, he would cook dinner for the two of you, and you would watch a movie together. You liked to rest your head on his shoulder, saying that that’s how you and your mother would watch movies. So Jay would wrap his arm around you, his other hand clenching the armrest of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to fight off his basest urges. After that, you would go to your room, and Jay would go to his room and edge himself for half an hour. 

Then, he would text your mother and tell her that he loved her.

–

A week after the lockdown had been announced, Jay checked his appearance in the mirror in the living room and frowned. He had a meeting in an hour, but he noticed that he was developing a unibrow. Normally, his wife would help him pluck the hairs.

You walked downstairs and noticed Jay scowling at himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked, standing next to him. By now, just your scent went straight to his cock, making it stir, and Jay sighed.

“Your mom’s not around, so now I’m turning into a caveman,” he said, pointing at his eyebrows. 

Your face brightened. “I can pluck them for you!”

Jay’s face fell, but he quickly put on a mask of indifference. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he said, waving his hand.

You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jay? It’ll be so fun. It’ll be therapeutic. Please?”

You were the devil, he decided, the devil cloaked in the vestments of a college student. “Fine,” he relented, and you cheered.

Jay wearily stood next to the mirror as you sprinted up the stairs to get your tweezers. You bounced back down shortly, opening and closing the tweezers with the steeliness of a surgeon. 

“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Jay obeyed, sitting down on the far end of the couch. You straddled his waist.

“What are you doing?” Jay asked, his voice somewhat panicked.

“I have to get close to you,” you replied. Jay realized that his reaction was unwarranted and he was doing a shit job of acting like he didn’t want to fuck you, so he nodded. 

As you plucked his eyebrow hairs, Jay rested his hand on her waist to stabilize you. He stared at you as you worked; you were so lovely when you focused. Jay decided not to fight it, just for now. He languidly rubbed a circle around your waist as you plucked his eyebrows, and his other hand rested on your knee. If Jay tried, he could almost forget who you were. He could just pretend like there was no relation, that you were a stranger, that it wasn’t wrong to feel like this.

“Done!” You put the tweezers on the side table and examined his brows by tilting his head this way and that. Jay continued looking at you. He leaned back so that he was resting fully on the armrest, and your chest pressed against his due to the slight shift in position.

Jay’s voice was low and rough. “How does it look?” His hand still caressed your waist over your hoodie, and he noted that you made no move to get up.

“Very nice,” you replied, both hands still on his face. “You look very handsome now.”

Jay smiled slightly, looking you up and down. “Yeah?”

You looked in his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

Jay wasn’t sure who had leaned in first, but he did know that he was the one who deepened the kiss. You tasted incredible, and you weren’t a bad kisser, either. Your lips were soft and you took your time; your hands still cupped his cheeks. Jay’s hand slipped from your waist and worked its way up your hoodie, resting on your stomach. His other hand crawled up your leg, and he was endlessly grateful that you wore those dolphin shorts all the time. 

You were the one who probed your tongue at the entrance of his mouth, and you were the one who ran it along his teeth. He stroked his tongue along yours, tilting his head even further. Your hands slipped from his cheeks to rest on his shoulders.

Strangely enough, as he made out with his stepdaughter, Jay felt no qualms. All he could focus on was how good it felt, on how warm your little mouth was, on the way your body tensed as he ran his hands over you. Jay brought his hand higher, from your stomach to your ribs, until it was resting just below your breasts. He waited for you to pull away, to tell him to stop, but when you didn’t, he continued. Jay’s hand cupped your breast, and he briefly broke the kiss.

“You didn’t wear a bra?” he asked in an accusatory tone, kneading your breast. 

You shook your head.

“You wicked little minx.”

You shrugged, placing your hands behind his neck. “I normally don’t wear bras around the house. I mean, it’s just you and me in here.”

“No,” Jay whispered. “It’s not ‘just’ me.” Jay leaned in to kiss you with renewed fervor. His other hand slipped up into your shorts, fondling your upper thigh. Gently, Jay began to push you down onto the couch, until he was resting his full body weight on top of you. His hand groped at your chest, and he used both of his hands to pull your hoodie off. Finally, finally, he would get to see your body without a massive piece of fabric hiding it.

Jay moaned as soon as he saw your naked torso. He momentarily stopped kissing you to suck your tits. Both of his hands ran up and down your thighs, and he relished in your little gasps and whimpers. Jay took his mouth off of your breast and looked up at you. “You like that?”

You nodded, your face contorted in pleasure. “I like it, Jay.”

You had all but given him the green light to do whatever he wanted to your body, and almost without his knowing he began grinding his hips against yours. After leaving sloppy kisses all over your breasts, Jay kissed you again, sucking your tongue over and over again. 

He continued to rut against your clothed pussy, the friction assuaging the painful stiffness he felt in his cock. Jay knew he was pathetic. He knew how degenerate, how desperate, how sick he was. Only a freak would dry hump their stepdaughter on the couch. He didn’t even last an entire week. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care, let alone to stop. Jay ground his crotch into yours, pressing you deeper into the couch, and he groaned in your mouth. 

His hands were all over you now, stroking your back, your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and he was dimly aware of your own hands snaking up his shirt. 

Jay broke the kiss again, sweat dripping down his nose. “You can’t tell anyone,” Jay said frantically as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Got that? Not your friends, not your classmates, not your mom. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you understand me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you said hoarsely, your lips already swollen. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Jay tossed his belt to the side and tugged his jeans down. “Our little secret, right?”

You shimmied out of your shorts. “Our little secret.”

Jay slid your panties down your legs and parted your legs, pushing one up the couch and leaving the other to hang off of the side. He glanced at you as he worked his cock a few times. “Are you a virgin?”

You shook your head. 

“Good.”

“Why?”

“I’d never fuck a virgin the way I’m about to fuck you,” Jay said. Your eyes widened in apprehension, and Jay smiled.

He pushed himself inside of you roughly. As soon as he felt your pussy tighten around his cock, its warmth enveloping him, he swore. “Oh, fuck.” Jay kept your legs pushed open as he inches himself into you. At first, he shallowly thrusts into you with about half of his length. You’re already shuddering like a whore, whining and shaking, but you aren’t wet enough for his liking. Jay reached his hand down and stroked at the area above your vagina lips, eventually finding your clitoris. He rubbed it, just enough to get you nice and sopping wet. It didn’t take long, either; you must have been as pent-up as he had been, judging by the way you were gasping. Even just a few inches had you stuttering out some words that would make your mother blush.

He pulled out of you slightly, swirling his hips, before slamming his cock into you again. You moaned, a sound so gorgeous that he had to continue. Jay pounded your pussy mercilessly, his hands keeping your legs split open. His balls slapped against your thighs almost painfully as he kept up his pace. 

“Should have done this at the start,” Jay huffed. “Should have been inside you the second lockdown started.”

You opened your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

Good question. Why hadn’t he just fucked you like this when you had come running to him for comfort? Why had he bothered waiting? For propriety? For politeness? None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock. 

Jay smiled slightly as he imagined how your mother would react to this: her daughter splayed out on the couch, her tits bouncing up and down, her hand covering her mouth so her moans won’t echo all over the house, and her stepfather in between her legs, fucking her ruthlessly. The scary thing was, Jay didn’t think he could stop even if your mother had walked in. Your pussy felt too good, too tight, too warm, too inviting. 

You were so wet that Jay could hear it, his cock making obscene noises as it ravaged your hole. Jay pulled out of you, breathing heavily. He dragged you from the couch and laid you flat on the rug. 

“On all fours,” he said raggedly. “Now.”

You were weak, but you obeyed his instructions, displaying your red, aggravated pussy for him. Jay mounted you and fucked you like a dog, chasing his orgasm. His hands groped around your chest and he grabbed your tits while he pounded you. He leaned his head back and let out a primal moan.

Soon, your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the floor. Jay didn’t pull out of you, couldn’t pull out of you. He braced his arms on either side of you and slammed into you, pressing his entire body weight onto you. 

He felt his orgasm approaching, and he sped up, grunting and groaning. Jay felt like he would die if he didn’t cum, and he fucked into you mindlessly. When his orgasm hit, he let out a strangled scream. He could feel the pleasure from his cock all the way to his fingertips; his hairline tingled as he emptied himself out in your pussy. 

Jay didn’t know what he would do next. He didn’t know how you would act around each other. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had to do this again and again with you.

[lovebugism]

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player. 

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway. 

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt. 

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole. 

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw. 

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that. 

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

[renardiererin]

rintarou suna would let you talk him into getting a dick piercing. “rin cmon, just try. if you hate it so much you can always just remove it and let it close up.” he’s used to giving people piercings and tattoos all around for a little extra side cash (my tattoo artist suna smutshot), so he has little hesitancy when instructing you on how to put the prince albert piercing through the tip of his cock. but little doesn’t mean none. “baby it’s gonna hurt.” rintarou seems like he’s a tough guy. one who next to never complains about pain— but that is so far beyond the truth. he whines about every little thing, simply because he has no problem being obnoxious around you. you’ll love him anyway. so when he whines about how painful it’s gonna be, all you can do is laugh at his childish antics. he’ll furrow his brows together and push out his bottom lip slightly more, making himself look like the epitome of a whiner.

“baby it’ll hurt so bad, i’m gonna need you to kiss it better. you’ll kiss it better, right princess?”

“it hurts, honey, whenever you bring it up it reminds me it’s there and then it’s sore again.”

“i don’t even want to wear clothes, the thought of even underwear sounds so painful baby”

but once it’s been just two days and he’s forgotten about the initial pain, he’ll be buried balls deep in your tight little cunny, cool metal hitting the spongey spot deep in there that your fingers alone could never reach. the way the second bulb of metal peeks out from underneath the tip gives you added stimulation as it drags through your heated walls, bringing you closer and closer.

“y’know, sweets, i think i like this little cock piercing you talked me into. makes you scream, and i like when you’re loud for me.”

what may have stated as a half joking test ended in rintarou suna having a new second favorite piercing. though, nothing can beat the reactions you give him for the metal ball on his mid-tongue.

—

quick a/n: guys i’m so determined to leave my flop era this summer bc school gets out for me in like two weeks so i’m gonna hopefully be able to flood you all with content!! it’s 10am and i haven’t slept a WINK so here’s some dick piercing suna brain rot bc i need him so bad

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season

Azriel x Reader

An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.

Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!

Part 2

The air’s getting heavy and we both know why

There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.

Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.

I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.

Say that this storm is just passing through

But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.

As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.

Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.

The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”

But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.

Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.

It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.

The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.

Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“

He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.

Please, make it stop

It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…

“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”

He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.

Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”

That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.

“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.

Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?

“Azriel.” I stated firmly.

He met my eyes.

“You should leave.”

His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”

“I need space. Give me one week.”

“But-“

“One. Week.”

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.

“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.

——————

Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.

So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.

Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.

Say that you love me even if it’s not true

I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.

We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.

We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.

“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

——————

Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.

The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.

Like the sky letting go for no reason

I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.

It's just the rainy season.

—————————————

A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.

[joekeeryswife]

arranged marriage 1 - f.c

hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.

anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰

taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!

“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.

“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.

“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.

“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.

marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva

“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.

“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.

-♡-

“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.

“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.

his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.

“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.

“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.

“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”

“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.

“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.

-♡-

your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.

when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.

you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.

you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.

“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.

Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.

you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.

Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.

now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.

“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.

“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”

“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.

the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.

you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.

“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?

“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.

the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.

“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you’re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.

you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.

he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.

“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.

he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.

he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.

he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Talk Too Much

Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader

Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it

Wc: 2.2k

You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.

That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.

It’s not on purpose.

It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.

You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.

His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.

He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.

You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.

He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.

Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.

It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.

What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.

It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.

You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.

Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.

The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.

He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.

It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.

“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”

It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.

You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.

You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.

Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.

You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.

“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,

“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”

James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.

You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.

It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.

“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.

Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.

Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”

You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.

It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.

You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.

You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.

His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.

‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”

There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.

“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.

“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”

Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.

You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”

Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.

“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.

“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.

“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.

Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.

“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.

“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.

“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”

Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.

“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”

The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.

“I make you nervous?”

Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.

“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.

“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.

Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.

Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.

-

“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.

Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.

What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.

There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.

It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.

Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.

You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.

Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”

He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.”

You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”

Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.

Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.

That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.

“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”

Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.

“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.

“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”

“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.

His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.

You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.

No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.

“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”

You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”

[suempu]

Ok but headcanons for Chilchuck begging tallman reader to sit on his face but they're too scared they'll crush him 😭

established relationship + amab and afab included + human reader + chilly chuckles has stubble !!

<3

chilchuck wouldn’t be the type to “beg” you for it. more like whine or be grumpy about it because he’s kind of embarrassed.

like i said in my previous hcs, he loves everything about going down on you. from your scent, to your moans, to your skin. he’s using his heightened senses to his advantage just to feel more of you.

-> amab

he asks you to get on top of him and fuck his face but you refuse at first. just because you think he’s not ready for it yet and you didn’t want to crush the not-so-lil guy.

chilchuck is bitter at first, feeling rejected before you quickly reassure him that you just didn’t want to hurt his throat.

“i don’t need ‘training’, it’ll be fine. just get on my face.” he almost whines.

“you’ll gag and get hurt if i immediately do that… you’re not even used to taking all of me yet.” trying to reason with him, you pepper his pouty cheeks with kisses.

you really don’t want him to have a sore throat so the next time he asks again you only give shallow pumps into his mouth. giving him a taste of your dick.

when he finally learns to take your cock all the way, chilchuck’s obsessed with the eroticism of it all.

he’s laying on the bed, hands on your thighs as you thrust into his mouth from above. gurgling noises can be heard as you moan, his warm mouth enveloping your dick as he tears up from the lack of oxygen.

you got him successfully cockdrunk as you jerk your last splurt of cum onto his face, making the small patch of stubble on his chin sticky while he looks at you with dazed eyes as he sucks the head for good measure.

he doesn’t say anything but he’ll blush and get so turned on afterwards that he ends up fucking you in the shower.

-> afab

will just ask you straight up to sit on his face and you don’t know whether to laugh or blush because it aroused you more than you thought it would.

he’ll immediately question your refusal because wdym he’s not strong enough to take all your weight???? he’s a big boy

that was a lie. but it still doesn’t ruin the idea for him, he wants you on his face so bad that he keeps going even after panting so hard each time you smother him between your thighs.

“pat my thighs if you need air, okay?”

“i can do it without needing air.”

“honey, you almost passed out last time…”

he grumbles, “i thought we agreed to never bring that up.”

chilchuck can’t really put his fingers in you whenever you sit on him since there’s not much space because of his tongue in your hole. instead he paws and teases your rim while he wiggles his nose against your clit.

loves it when he gets you to squirt, although after a few moments he’ll nag you to get in the bath and wash his soaked face.

<3 the morning after (gn)

the next morning, he’ll drink some tea to soothe his throat because of the lack of air and to keep it from being sore.

this man will not acknowledge ANYTHING he did the night before, he’ll brush everything off if you mention any embarrassing things he’s done.

“good morning. was last night okay?”

he snorts, putting his mug down. “of course. told you i could handle it.”

you hum playfully, hugging him into your chest from behind. “i don’t know… you looked delirious and… fucked out. i think you even passed out at one point-”

“i’m never going down on you ever again.”

[hungharrington]

i’m almost 22 and have never even kissed a boy (which i’m chronically insecure about). it’s made me feel very nervous regarding intimacy or “doing it wrong”. i feel like steve would be great coach and reassure the reader it’s okay and that they’re doing great. nothing to embarrassed about. (my soul needs this so bad)

hi honey !! i think you r so right & steve would be the perfect guy to give all the assurances <3 i hope u know that kisses don’t matter too much til they’re with someone you’re rlly sweet on so i wouldn’t sweat it angel x this one is sfw! wowzer!

You’re on your couch and in Steve’s lap and worried about just about everything. 

Steve’s being sweet about it, his hands resting gently on either side of your waist, his thumbs swiping up and down to comfort you. He’s watching you closely, unaware he’s just taken your first, second, and third ever kisses. How could he know? you think, on the side of insecurity— it seems everybody else your age has already kissed someone. 

“You okay?” He asks, hazel eyes tracing over the soft features of your face. He loves your nose and the shape of your bottom lip— strange things to like perhaps, but Steve doesn’t care. 

You nod but don’t say anything. The motion is a bit jerky. Your hands are planted on his shoulders, holding them probably a bit too tight. Exhaling a breath, you nod again and pretend the fondness in his gaze isn’t making you shy.

“Yeah,” you finally speak, voice smaller than you intend. “Just- just wanna like—“ you swallow, eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment, if only to avoid his intense eyes. “I wanna get this right.” 

A car engine drones by outside in the dusky evening. Steve gives a little chuckle and his hands on your waist tug forward, pulling your attention down and your body an inch closer to his. It’s warm— every part of him is glowing warm. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can get this wrong,” He admits, awfully sincere about it. 

It’s the truth. Steve likes you a lot. You could probably bite his lip too hard and make it bleed and he’d still find it pleasant. You have that effect on him. 

You don’t know that though. So, every stress seems very, very real. Are you kissing firm enough? Too firm? God, are your lips too dry? 

Your tongue flicks out to wet them, your hands giving his shoulders a nervous, minuscule squeeze. In your chest, your heart is torn between rabbiting in its anxiety or shrivelling in insecurity. 

“I mean,” you laugh a little, if only to cover your embarrassment. You duck your head to avoid his face, murmuring, “If there is, I’m sure I’ll find it. I haven’t, uh, exactly done this… too much.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says instantly. His warm, large hands give a tender squish on your waist, before sliding up and around to curl snugly around your body. He sits up a little straighter, his nose nudging against yours. 

“No, Steve,” you say, cheeks a touch heated. You count his eyelashes so you can avoid his eyes, you voice dropping volume towards the end of your sentence. “I mean, like… like ever.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes for only a moment. His gaze darts down to your lips quickly but then he’s smiling, nudging closer, and stealing a quick kiss off your lips. Now he’s taken your fourth kiss too. 

You flush, something warm pinging its way up your spine. 

“That’s okay,” He murmurs, sounding like he really means it. 

“It is?” 

“It’s great. You’re great.” He kisses you again—your fifth— so sweet it tastes like sugar on your lips, his arms around you pulling you in closer. You drown in it, enamoured by how it feels to have his lips against yours. God, he makes you dizzy. 

Steve breaks the kiss but stays close, his arms pulling you closer still so you’re straddling him properly. He’s warm, so warm— and so freakin’ nice to you. 

“You don’t find it weird?” You can’t help but whisper. Your eyes crush closed, unable to face him. 

“Weird?” Steve echoes. “Are you kidding me? It’ll take more than that to freak me out.” 

One of his hands shifts up, moving up off your waist to cradle your jaw gently in his large palm. He peppers a string of kisses along your cheek and jaw, beginning to suck a sweet spot beneath your ear. Your hips shift before you realising, subtly grinding down into his. Flames begin to burn in your stomach. 

“It’s—I mean it’s kind of, like, a little embarrassing, don’t you think?” You continue, voice a little breathier than before. You’re not sure what you’re trying to convince of him of— you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Steve’s lips brush over the barely forming bruise on your skin and your breath hitches. 

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” 

One slow kiss against your neck, his plush lips accompanied by the heat of his tongue. You squirm in his lap but don’t answer, fearful of being too truthful. You are and you aren’t. He isn’t making you embarrassed but you are, just a little. 

Your silence makes Steve pause, digging his face out of your neck to meet your eyes. “Hey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed- if you are for some other reason, we can— we can like stop—“ 

“No.” You cut in, God, now you’re seriously giving him the wrong idea. “No, oh my god, I sound so stupid- it’s not you— Steve—“ 

He cuts you off with another kiss, your sixth, and steals your runaway thoughts. It blissfully chases away your nerves for just a moment. 

“Great.” He smiles against your mouth, giving another squeeze of your waist. “Cos you don’t need to be.” He kisses your mouth again, seven. “All you need to be is enjoying yourself, okay? 

You like the sound of that— adore the way he’s so seamlessly finds the thing that sets your nerves alight and soothes it so easily. You whisper back, “Okay,” and gift him your eighth kiss, sweet and fierce. 

[jyoongim]

This is more of an idea (feel free to not respond btw)

But what if married reader gets knocked up with Alastors fawn and the husband divorced her once he realizes the baby isn’t his? You can bet your ass that the deer daddy is already trying to ensnare the reader in his grasp lol

Hehehe i have never written a Part 2 so fast !

Part 1

————————————————————————

“Oh my Satan dear! Look at you! Ya look like you’re bout to pop!” Rosie exclaimed when you walked in her shop.

’Pop’ was an understatement.

You were very near the end of your pregnancy and it had not been kind to you.

You never told your husband about the incident with Alastor.

Would he had even believed you?

Alastor was A LOT of things, but the two of you were friends…your husband would think call you insane….

Your eyes widened seeing the very cause of your discomfort.

Alastor.

You wanted to dash out the door, run back home and hide.

The red Overlord turned around, hearing Rosie’s voice, you froze seeing his eyes look you over, you instinctively placed a hand over your stomach when his lips stretched into a smile.

You heard Rosie excuse herself to go get some appetizers but you were too focused to acknowledge her.

You were alone.

With him.

You took a shaky breath as memories from several months ago flashed across your mind, but you shook your head lightly to discard those thoughts.

”My my look at you” he purred approaching until he towered over you, beaming like a Cheshire cat “You really do make a fine mother” his large hand caressed the swell of your belly, smile softening when he felt movement.

”j-just leave me be please” you whispered, wincing when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Alastor chuckled ”leave you be? Oh ma cherie no can do!” 

He bent his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a whisper “especially since you’re about to give birth to my baby?”

You pushed him away, putting distance between the two of you. Your face was flushed, eyes narrowed “I am NOT having your baby! I am having my husband’s baby!” You defended.

But there was a sliver of doubt you always felt when it came to the little soul nestled within you.

Alastor’s smile never wavered “Hmm you sure? Because i remember vividly filling your cunt with my seed until it dripped down your legs” 

You froze.

”You took me so well I was positive you would be pregnant”

He took small steps towards you

”Did you tell your husband?” 

Your snarl fell at his words and he knew he had you.

”T-there’s n-nothing to tell” you said turning around, ready to leave. 

You didnt have to take this.

He hummed coming up behind you. “Nothing to tell?” He chuckled darkly as his lanky arms wrapped around you, cradling your swollen belly. He leaned his head on top of yours.

”Oooh darlin I’m hurt! You didnt tell your loving husband how you milked my cock? How I tasted the cunt that belonged to him? How I claimed you for myself? That I sent you home filled with my cum?”

You were shaking.

”How unfaithful you were? Could the poor man tell another man’s cum was inside you while he fucked you?”

He kissed your neck

”I can’t wait to meet our little fawn”

Your baby kicked causing him to smile.

————————————————————————-

Pain.

Thats all you felt as you tried to breath through your contraction.

”You got this honey! You’re doing great” your husband soothed as you wailed.

”One more push maam the baby’s almost here” the nurse reassured you.

Almost? It felt like you been pushing forever

”I cant” you panted.

Everything burned.

Your husband dabbed at your sweaty forehead, pressing a kiss to it “You got this baby. C’mon just one more push and then it’ll all be over”

Your eyes clenched and with a scream you pushed.

”Aaahh!”

Relief and then the shrill cry of a baby.

The nurses cooed “Ooh a healthy boy!”

she cleaned up the baby and you sighed as you slumped against the bed.

Finally.

”Ok mama” you felt a small weight on your chest.

Soft noises had you look down and you felt your heart break and bloom.

Red tufts of hair curled on the babe’s head and he looked at you with big red eyes.

He looked like you; round cheeks and a cute nose.

He looked nothing like your husband.

And every bit like…

”what the fuck” you heard your husband say. You turned to him, eyes wide.

He was staring at the baby.

”I-Its n-not what you think dear j-just let me-”

”You fucked Alastor” he was frowning, standing up from the bed.

You shook your head, tears swelling

”N-no that’s…I didnt i swear”

”I am looking at his exact copy. The damn brat looks nothing like me!”

You couldnt move “Honey p-please”

The man backed away. He was angry.

The baby began to cry, you tried to rock the poor soul, but your attention was on your husband

”Honey-”

”I should have known” he hissed lowly, pacing.

”I should have known by the way he acted. How you flirted with each other! The fucking radio demon!? Tsk!”

He turned to look at you.

”I dont want some bitch who takes me for a fool. Hope it was worth it you fucking slut” he turned to walk out.

tears ran down your face, your heart was racing “W-What? Honey no it wasn’t like that..it-it was never-”

”I want a divorce. You are dead to me”

and like that he was gone.

You sat there stunned.

Your husband just…left.

He left you and he didn’t even let you explain, tell him how or why all this was happening.

The baby cooed and you looked down at him.

You wanted to be angry, you had every right to be, but looking at this sweet soul…he didnt deserve your anger.

You were a mother now. You would do your best to love your child.

Even if you had to do it alone.

————————————————————————————-

“What a fine mother you make indeed my dear”

He smiled watching the little fawn latch to your chest and stare back at him with vermillion eyes.

You hissed at him, earning a quirked brow “haven’t you done enough?”

Soft static buzzed through the air as the Overlord approached you. You took a step back, as he extended a hand to the babe and rubbed his chubby cheek.

Alastor ignored your question ”How are you feeling love?” He asked as the baby nuzzled into your neck.

How were you feeling?

You were divorced, a single mother, and living with Rosie.

Shunned.

All because of him.

”Like hell but I know you’re not here to ask about my well being”

Alastor ignored your jab.

”I do care for you darlin and its only right that I provide for you and our fawn”

You went to growl, threaten him to die, but your baby reached out to the red demon.

Alastor’s face light up and he grabbed the fawn, cooing and tickling the baby.

Your son squealed and giggled, trying to grab at his claws.

”Let’s make a deal dearest”

You straightened at his words. A deal with Alastor was dangerous.

But you were at rock bottom.

”What kind of deal?” You asked cautiously.

”Marry me. Marry me and you’ll have nothing to be worried about. You’ll be protected, cared for, and have anything you desire.”

The baby was gumming at his collar.

”Be mine”

You bit your lip. What did you have to loose?

You sighed, taking your son.

You looked at the tall demon, green magic swirling around him.

”Do we have a deal?” he extend his hand.

You looked at your baby and then back at Alastor.

”I hate you” you said taking his hand,

You winced as your hand burned and watched a gold ring appear on your finger.

Radio static buzzed and then a soft humming. Alastor purred, smiling, fixing his jacket.

“Oh my dear” His arm looped around your waist, bringing you close to him as he chuckled “Such a good girl”

“Now! I think I have the perfect place for us to raise our fawn”

—————————————————————————————

“Uggghh Al you got a little something…” Charlie said nervously as she watch Alastor sip his coffee.

The little red fawn was hanging on his antlers, happily gnawing at the appendages. Alastor looked up, smiling “Oh he’s fine”

”Alastor have you seen…” your voice floated into his ears as you entered the lobby, stopping when you saw your son among his father’s antlers.

Alastor let out a grunt as the baby pulled at his ears “Hes right here dear”

Your baby babbled as you approached, squealing when you plucked him from his father.

You scowled the Overlord, placing the baby on your hip.

”How many times have I told you not to just let him hang-”

”da-”

You froze.

“Da…da” your son babbled, squirming in your arms.

Charlie cooed and Alastor smirked as the fawn’s eyes welled with tears as he reached for his father. Alastor walked towards you, scooping the baby from you.

You pouted as the baby happily chirped, nuzzling in his father’s neck.

Alastor sneaked a soft kiss to your lips 

“See he’s fine”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, arms crossing.

”Oh smile my dear. Maybe the next one will say mama first” he laughed, eyes settling on your round belly.

”After all you’re a great mother”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Liqueur of You (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer goes down on Reader for the first time.

Request: Spencer gives fem!reader oral sex for the first time and she finishes really quickly 🤭 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), fingering Word Count: 1k

Spencer Reid is nothing if not a persistent lover; a scientist hellbent on studying any evidence of the divine written on your skin. His hands would gently caress every inch of your body, carefully detailing how you shivered or squirmed from his touch.

Spencer is an earnest, clever boy who wants nothing less than all of you. Even as he’s kissing you, his hands are finding new ways to worship you. He slips one past the waistband of your underwear and nearly moans at the mess he finds.

Slowly, he drags a single digit through the honeyed wetness that had gathered between your folds. His finger teases at the entrance but doesn’t go any further.

You whimper. You can feel his skin grow rough with goosebumps, but he doesn’t slow down. He runs his tongue along the column of your throat, and he can feel how it trembles as you beg him.

“Spencer, please.”

“You taste so good,” he groans before suckling at your pulse point.

Your body feels like it’s on fire. Everywhere he’s touching you is somehow too much and not enough.

“Please,” you keen again.

He listens this time. You soak in the anticipation of his touch only to feel the ultimate disappointment of its withdrawal.

Spencer’s fingers are practically dripping with your essence as he lifts them to his face. At first, you look at his hand as he inspects the evidence of your desire. But then you look at him. You gaze into brown irises set ablaze and watch how they change the second he places two soaked fingers on his tongue.

He moans as he savors the taste of you. His hips buck forward. He presses his erection hard against your hip. You almost wonder if he could get off just like that.

When he finishes cleaning his fingers, though, he returns to his worship with renewed vigor.

It’s the same as it always is, until it isn’t. The kisses he’s pressing against your breasts begin trailing south. For a moment, you are unsure. But then his tongue swirls at a point just beneath your belly button.

You suck in a sharp breath. He can feel the muscles in your stomach roll as they tense. He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, lower, and lower until he can feel the heat through flimsy cotton.

Spencer is careful as he helps remove your underwear. You wonder if you should tell him the truth—that you’ve never done this part before. That you’re worried and unsure about whether it’ll work the way he wants it to.

“Spencer,” you start with a sobering tone, “I’ve… I’ve never…”

“I know,” he says simply as he lifts one of your legs from the bed. “It’s horribly unfair.”

It’s shaking as he guides it over his shoulder. His lips curl into a cheeky smirk that makes your heart beat even harder.

Despite the twitches and trembling, Spencer senses no resistance; your legs practically fall open for him.

That creeping insecurity begins to resurface, but it is assuaged by Spencer laying tender kisses against your inner thigh.

“This is going to be easy, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, “just lie back and look pretty.”

“But…” you whine.

“Good girl,” he answers.

Then, before you can offer any other protest, you feel the heat of his tongue as it slides between your folds. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by his new form of worship. There is no hesitancy as he laps at the liqueur of you.

Your hands thread through his hair and grab hold of him like he is the only thing keeping you tethered. You pull, gently at first.

Spencer’s nails dig into the pliable skin of your thigh. While your legs apply crushing force to try and bring him closer, he remains adamant in holding you exactly where he wants you.

While his tongue toys at your entrance, seemingly savoring each drop from a never-ending pool of desire, you are left dumb and defenseless. Whimpers flow from your lips. Your whole body is trembling, but you try your hardest to heed his orders.

You hold yourself back… until Spencer decides that your shyness, while endearing, just won’t do.

You try to keep track of his hands as they stray from their place. Your legs close against his ears, and you can feel his moans as they reverberate through you.

One of Spencer’s hands joined his tongue before replacing it entirely. You feel the tension building in your stomach at the same time another hand presses hard against the midpoint between your hips.

Just as two lithe fingers press into you, his tongue presses flat against the pearl at your crest.

Immediately, the ever-growing euphoria comes to a breaking point. You choke on a scream, but still manage to sob as every muscle in your body tenses. Your heels dig into his shoulder blades and your thighs quiver as they close around his head.

Spencer seems unfazed. Instead of stopping, like you’d expected him to, he closes his lips around that sensitive nub and continues. Without air, he suckles your clit like it could sustain him all the same.

He pays no mind to the way you are falling apart. His fingers pump into pulsing muscles and he continues to hum sounds of pleasure against you. He doesn’t stop until your body falls limp.

It is then that he pulls away, ever-so-slightly. His touch becomes gentle and less insistent. Eventually, he sighs against heated skin. The contrast makes you shiver.

“That was…” you start, but he stops you.

“I’m not finished yet,” he mumbles against the newly soaked skin between your legs.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin reflected in his eyes. His hair is knotted around your fingers and his face glistens with the mess you’ve made.

It isn’t enough for him. Lazily, he kisses every inch of you that he can reach before he draws his tongue through your folds. He makes a point to circle your most sensitive point once more before he speaks again.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!)

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[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, oral sex

jaime reyes was a sweetheart, the cutest and softest boy you’d ever met. he wasn’t mean, didn’t argue, and always let you lead—whether that be when you both went out grocery shopping, or when you were sitting at the end of your bed, watching your sweet lover’s lip tremble and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

"please, nena," he whimpers, his back pushed against the headboard with his legs sprawled out, his hands holding his thighs tightly, careful to not touch his length that is excruciatingly hard on his lower abdomen.

you’re sat at the end of the bed, sitting only in a bra and panties while jaime is completely nude, his face glistening from sweat. "it’s okay papa," you smile sweetly, one hand holding up your weight on the bed and the other rubbing the skin on his calf.

"don’t you wanna be good? i promise it’ll be worth it," you remind him, the hand that was touching his skin moving to your thigh and traveling to your lower regions. "i want you too, real bad, can’t you see?"

your legs spread open, showing the stain of wetness that’s blocking your core. his throat lets out another high pitched whimper, his fingertips turning white from the resistance he’s holding back.

"i’m so good, i haven’t even touched myself," and you know he’s good. he’s always good for you! jaime never touches himself unless your permission is granted, he’s always sending pretty pictures of himself while you’re at work, and if you ask him to be ready when you get home—he doesn’t think twice.

"my good boy, yeah?" your boyfriend whines while nodding his head, his teeth biting his lips as he finally watches you move, a sigh of relief escaping him.

you lean down, kissing up his legs until you’re at his tip which is red and veiny and ready for you. he watches with glossy eyes, his hands moving to the sheets beneath the two of you and deciding to fist those instead, wanting your touch to be all over him. "my pretty boy," you tilt your head teasingly to say once you’ve kissed his thighs.

the man above you could finish right then and there, coat your face all pretty and kiss it off of you like he has before. but you didn’t tell him to, so he wouldn’t dare.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers as your lips move to his tip, pressing a kiss to it before you spread your mouth, sucking smally.

he’s more than grateful. if you left it at that, he’d thank you. his wide eyes continue to watch you take him whole, his hand swinging to his mouth and his teeth biting on his fist.

it’s only until you look up that he stops, "it’s okay baby, wanna hear you tonight." and he loses control, moaning and whimpering and whining for you till he’s asking you how you want him to finish.

"in your m-mouth, nena? i can-fuck-i can on your face? p-please please i can’t hold it anymore," he whines and you look up at him knowingly, never taking your lips off of him until you’re swallowing his climax.

jaime’s so good for you, because he knows you’ll always be good to him. even if he has to wait, he knows it’ll be worth it, that you know just where and just how to touch him to make him get a taste of heaven.

hi honey bunches! tmrw is fdoc for me but i’m gonna try n be as active as possible! will happily take requests, just might take a day longer to respond bc of school, thank u &lt;3

ALSO I HIT 1k LIKES YIPPIEE

[finelinevogue]

okay what about something with fiancerry about wedding planning? like putting stuff together/looking at inspo/etc ??

a/n - again… something small <3

word count - ~1k

wedding planning mahem

.’•*,.’>*,~<\*•,.-:’•.~_,*^;-.•*

“I hate that colour.” You frowned at the potential colour of napkins.

“It’s beige. How is that not good?” Your fiancé, Harry, asked.

You were both sitting on the lounge floor, binders, folders, photos and bits of paper laid out everywhere in front of you. No space on the floor was untouched.

“It’s just.. bleh. I’m thinking sage green, to match the bridesmaids dresses.”

“Ooh that reminds me. Gem said her dress needs altering again.”

“Again?” You ran a stressed hand after your forehead and back over your head. “Anything else I should know?”

“Aunty Carole isn’t sitting on the same table as Uncle Graham, she said. Actually, she kind of threatened me to make sure it didn’t happen.” Harry gulped.

“Oh.. for fu– okay, okay.”

You take out a piece of paper from a binder and add these tasks to your never ending list. There were currently 67 tasks on your list to do and increasing in length too.

“And I should probably let you know that the cake decorator cancelled this morning saying the design was too complicated.”

Your eyes felt like they bugged out of their sockets. “Too complicated? Are you kidding me? It’s a bloody white cake with some green ivy on it.”

You groaned and collapsed on your back. You covered your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“C’mon, baby. It’ll all be okay.” Harry said, rustling with some paper.

You shook your head. You breathed out a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. Your shoulders and chest started to shake as you started to cry.

Your hands stayed over your eyes as the tears flowed down onto your cheeks.

Harry must have noticed, even though you weren’t being vocal about crying, because the next thing you knew he was on his way over to you.

“Woah, baby. Hey, hey. What’s up?” Harry pulled your hands away from your eyes and just let you cry without restraint. He stayed sat by your side, holding one of your hands with his.

“This is so shit.” You tried to talk through your sobs.

“What is? The wedding? The planning?”

“Everything!” You exclaimed, but Harry knew you didn’t mean it.

“Talk to me. What’s actually wrong?”

Harry pulled on your arms to sit you up. He sat with manspread legs and you sat in between them, sitting sideways to his body.

“I just.. I just wanted this wedding to be perfect. I needed it to be perfect and now everything’s falling apart left, right and centre.” You blew out a deep breath as you tried to calm your tears.

“Why does it need to be perfect? It’s not worth being perfect if you’re this upset, honey.” Harry explained, which you understood.

“For you.” You said softly.

“For me? Wha– baby…” Harry struggled to understand.

“You have done and still do so much for me, H. I just can’t even begin to explain just how much. This was supposed to be my way of showing you how much it all meant to me.. how much you loving me has meant to me.”

Harry pulled your chin so your face faced his. “Baby, hey. I know how much I mean to you. I see it everyday, from the little moments to the big. Like, this morning, you knew I wanted a green tea instead of a breakfast tea. I don’t know how you did, but you did. Or last week, I asked you if I could go out and see some friends and next thing I know you’ve organised a barbecue for me and them here. I-I don’t know how you could ever think that you don’t already show me how much you love me.”

“I know, I know. M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, lovie. It’s all going to work out, I promise.”

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | xii. {END}

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Your nerves stir as William considers you in silence. It’s all he’s done for the last few agonizing minutes, stare at you without uttering a single word. Perhaps you’ve shared too much? Overestimated how much he could take? You’ve told him everything, not skipping over any detail as he asked. How Coriolanus lured you into his web. Weaved a myriad of honeyed lies you naively fell for. Coaxed you into staying with him. Planted a seed that will soon grow into a permanent reminder of all he did to you. 

The whole, plain horrible truth.

Much as it ached to tell the story, and relive it in a way, you were thorough and concise. Your voice may have wavered a little, your eyes evaded William’s at times, but now he has the full story. 

And he’s free to do as he pleases with that knowledge.

“William?” you inquire again. 

This time he swallows a deep breath. Fearful expectancy knots your gut. He clenches his fists and bolts to his feet. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

You wedge yourself between him and the door as he takes long, determined strides toward the exit.

“Wait!” you urge, panic trembling through your voice.

William scoff, a frown marring his brow.

“What? You want to protect him? After everything he’s done to you?”

Your lips tighten. A surge of tears fights its way past your lids but you suppress them. Too much is at stake for you to crumble right now. You straighten your spine and lift your chin.

“It’s not that. Of course I don’t care what happens to him but…” You place your hands on his forearms. He seems to relax at your touch and a sliver of relief leaks inside your chest. Perhaps there is still hope for you and William. “He’s dangerous, William. Cunning, slippery. Like a snake.”

His jaw clenches. “We’ll see about that when I have my fist in his throat.”

He tries to move forward but you keep firmly blocking his path. Once again, you try to reason with him. “No, he really is…deranged.” No other word arises in your mind. You shudder as you recall the glint of madness in his blue eyes. “He has my parents under his spell. I really don’t think he’ll stop at anything to get his way.” Your mouth quivers. “He’ll hurt you.”

“Let him try,” William grumbles, clenching his fists. 

Rage oozes off him, coating the air. You feel its intensity in your very bones. When he said he wanted to kill Coriolanus, it wasn’t a metaphor. It’s how furious your fiancé is after hearing your story.

“William, no…For me. Let it go.” You grab his hands, bringing them to your face. They slowly loosen, his gaze softening as it rests on you. “Let’s just leave. I know I’m asking for a lot. Asking you to raise another man’s child-”

He cradles your face. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be our child. They won’t even have to know his name.” 

You drape your hands over his, emotion making your voice waver.

“You really mean that?”

His thumbs sweep over your cheek.

“Of course. I made a promise to you.” He smiles. “And I never stopped loving you.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “Even after everything?”

A glimpse of sadness crosses his features.

“It hurt. Of course, it hurt. But there’s no other girl than you for me, and there never will be.” Overwhelmed, you stare at him a long time, basking in his bottomless devotion. How did you end up so lucky? Even after all the misfortune you suffered, amidst your woe, you still found William. A love as rare and pure as a pearl lost in the ocean.

You get on your tiptoes to press your lips over his. At first, it’s tentative. You’re wondering if perhaps it’s too soon, if he’s truly forgiven you. But your doubts evaporate as he eagerly returns the kiss. Your heart swells. He cups your cheeks and you melt against him, soaking his scent and the familiar taste of his skin. You could cry. You missed him so much. For the first time in weeks, air finds a home in your lungs again.

When your lips part, he leans his forehead against yours. For a while, you just revel in each other’s presence, warm breaths mingling in the cool air.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, his knuckles skimming down your neck. “You…do have a plan, right?”

Taking a deep breath, you stand up straight.

“I’m thinking we hitch a late night train to District 2. There’s a weapons shipment tonight.” You grimace. “My dad, h-he sends them to the Peacekeepers garrisons there.” Every time you remember the part your father plays in keeping people in the Districts cowered and afraid of the Capitol’s wrath, you feel sick. This is who the man who raised you has become. Someone who turns a blind eye to his own people’s suffering. It makes you wonder if maybe he and Coriolanus are cut from the same cloth after all. Both of them opportunists. Both of them eager to step over everything and everyone to further their goals. Your father gives the Capitol the ammunition it needs to terrorize. And Coriolanus fuels them with ideas to keep that terror alive.

“We could head South, start a new life there,” William suggests.

You blink in surprise. This is a drastic decision, one you never expected to hear leave his lips.

“You mean, leave Panem?”

“Why not? There is nothing for us here. I don’t think there ever was.”

“You’d be leaving your family and friends behind William. A-Are you sure?”

He sends you a warm smile, rubbing your arms.

“You’re my family. You’re all I need.”

Your heart flutters, a fresh breeze of hope passing through you. 

“William…”

“This is my choice. I’m choosing you,” he interrupts, his inflection firmer than before. “In sickness and in health, until death do us part, right?”

You search his eyes and are shocked to realize William means this. He wants to elope with you, follow you into uncertainty and escape the Capitol’s vicious rule.

“I’m sorry…about everything.”

His tender lips graze your forehead.

“There is nothing to forgive. None of this was your fault.”

His soothing words cast a balm over your wounded heart. You spent so long blaming yourself, tortured by your own thoughts and lamenting every choice you made. It’s refreshing to hear that maybe, not all the responsibility falls upon your shoulders.

You wipe the budding tears in your eyes.

“We have to be quick,” you say, your voice more confident than before. “Coriolanus, he…we need to be long gone before he notices I left.”

William squeezes your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore. I won’t let him get anywhere near you. If he wants to breathe the same air as you, he’ll have to do it over my dead body.”

He wraps his arms around you and, for the first time in several weeks, you feel safe.

You help William pack his most essential belongings before the two of you sneak into the night. Despite what he said, you don’t miss the brief way his green eyes mist as he shoves a picture of his parents and little sister into a leather bag. Guilt floods your insides. You’re the one in trouble, not him. Several times, you grapple with the urge to tell him to stay, that you can do this on your own. But there is no going back now. It’s too late. Besides, a selfish part of you doesn’t want to. It’s scary enough, leaving everything behind. The Capitol. Your childhood home. Your parents. Having William at your side is the only way you won’t fall apart out here. You don’t see yourself surviving beyond the borders without him. As much as you complained about your life here, you’re aware of how sheltered you’ve been. You always had food on the table. You were never cold. You always had a warm bed to sleep in.

Now, those things will not be guaranteed. 

You and William try to act natural around every peacekeeper you brush past, pretending you’re just two lovers meeting for a late night tryst. Still, your heart leaps each time you get a glimpse of the blue uniforms. You haven’t forgotten the time Coriolanus spent in district 12, paranoia prowling the edge of your mind. It’s not like he has any affiliation with them now, does he?

Sensing your unease, William squeezes your hand in reassurance. You smile at him.

Still, you don’t relax until the two of you have hailed a cab and are on your way to the train station on the outskirts of the city. 

Even when the two of you successfully make it onto the back of a cargo train unnoticed, you’re still on alert. Even the whistle of the train as it rumbles to life and leaves the station doesn’t grant you peace. William wraps his arm around your shoulders. The two of you are sitting on the floor behind a gigantic crate of machine guns.

He drops a kiss atop your head.

“Hey, everything will be fine. I promise. Nothing will happen to you.”

You tuck yourself against him. You wish you could let go of your fear but dread’s had you in its clutches since you left the station. Would Coriolanus’ plans for you be thwarted so easily? You find it hard to believe, remembering his unflinching desire to make you fall in line.

Still, you give a weak smile.

“You’re right. I’m being silly.”

As soon as you utter the words however, the train hisses and makes an abrupt stop on the tracks.

William frowns.

“What’s happening? I’ll go ch-”

Before your fiancé can finish his sentence, the doors of the wagon open. A gust of frosty wind whisks inside the train. William’s eyes widen but there’s no time to process his shock as he’s kicked in the gut by a peacekeeper.

Another man appears and the two of them yank him out of the train. 

“William!” you shout, jumping out of the wagon. 

Your fiancé coughs out blood as he’s dragged away by the two blue-clad men. He tries to fight them but they kick him in the jaw. He crashes into the grass. 

Your chest seizes. You begin racing towards him. However as the two men shift, revealing someone else behind them, someone whose haunting blue stare is forever engraved into your memories, you freeze. 

He scrutinizes you before shaking his head.

“You disappoint me, princess,” Coriolanus sighs, folding his arms. “I thought you were finally coming to your senses.”

The two men force William on his knees, one of them pointing his gun at his head to keep him docile. Your eyes water. Helplessness tugs at your chest. He took no time to find you. Did you ever stand a chance?

“Coriolanus, just let us go. This is…all of this is going too far,” you plead. 

He arches his brow, disdain lacing his tone as he says, “You really think I’d let my child grow up in a district?”

“You bastard,” William spits, hate flaring in his green eyes. 

Malice sways in Coriolanus’ orbs as he takes in your fiancé. His taunting voice echoes through the field.

“Oh, does it sting, knowing I’ve had her before you in every possible way?”

He tries to lunge himself at the blond. Your breath catches as you watch the peacekeepers beat him into submission. He keels over in the grass, coughing up more blood.

Coriolanus turns to you.

“I’m going to give you a choice, princess. Come back home to the Capitol with me, willingly. I’ll forgive you, set the entire matter aside and we can focus on our guest list, cake tasting and finding you the perfect dress for our wedding.” He tilts his head, his smile vanishing. “Or don’t. And I really can’t say what I’ll do next.” He chuckles darkly. “I just know you won’t like it.”

You look at him, disbelief and sadness surging through you. You wonder where your friend disappeared to, the one who dried your tears and whispered soft words of reassurance whenever your mood dipped, the one who showered you with gifts and attentions. The one who was kind. 

Who is this stranger standing before you?

Coriolanus laughs. 

“You know Sejanus looked at me the exact same way…like he expected me to be someone I’m not, someone I never was.” His eyes lock with yours. “Right to the bitter end.”

Your stomach sinks, an awful realization digging its way through your mind. You don’t know how you know. Perhaps it’s that smug smile on his lips. Perhaps that glow in his eyes. Or that subtle inflection to his words. Either way, you just know.

You know what Coriolanus did and your entire world falls apart.

Sejanus too never stood a chance, you bet.

You nod. “I’ll come with you.”

A subtle smile blooms on Coriolanus’ lips.

“What?” William stares at the interaction in shock.

Coriolanus offers you his hand as you approach.

“It’s over, William,” you mumble, too ashamed to meet his gaze. You focus on taking Coriolanus’ hand instead. His touch is deceptively soft. “Just go back home, forget about this. Forget about me.”

Your spirits sink lower and lower with every word that leaves your mouth. You are willingly walking to your grave.

William shakes his head.

“No way…”

Everything that follows happens in a blur. So quickly you barely register what’s going on. First, William throws himself at the blond. You gasp as you watch them wrestle, Coriolanus having a clear advantage. Next, one of the peacekeepers hands him a gun. 

He points it at his temple.

Ribbons of blood fly from William’s skull, painting Coriolanus’ shirt crimson.

Time stops for you as your eyes grow wide with horror.

The blond dusts himself off, shoving William’s limp frame off him as he rises.

He sighs at his stained shirt.

“This was brand new,” he laments.

You rush to William and fall to your knees near his unmoving body. It takes all your strength to even shift him a little. 

“William? William, please?” you whimper. His lifeless green eyes rise to the moon in the sky, his soft mouth parted in a scream that never will be. 

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, the shards piercing through your being and trailing scars in their wake. It will never stitch itself back together.

In the background, Coriolanus orders one of the peacekeepers.

“Get rid of the bodies. Make sure nothing is left. And I’ll put in a good word for your sister at the Citadel,” he promises.

The other peacekeeper pipes up, “The bodies? But there’s only one-”

A gunshot erupts. A few feet away, you watch one of the peacekeepers, the one who spoke up, crash into the ground. The other one shot him. Smoke still rises from his gun as Coriolanus nods at the man in approval.

“Like we agreed, I’ll also write to Commander Hoff on your behalf. You’ll start officer training next month.”

More words are exchanged between the two men but they fade amidst the buzz rising inside your head. You lie atop William’s corpse, numb as you faintly hope to find a heartbeat.

After a while, you’re hauled off your feet by a pair of strong arms. You struggle but it’s for naught. You’re taken away, William’s unmoving form dwindling in your vision.

“No, I can’t leave him…”

Coriolanus carries you bridal style to a vehicle. He places you in the passenger seat and ties your seatbelt. 

“Shh, it’s okay, princess,” he coos. “You need to calm down. This isn’t good for you and the baby.”

The baby. You have to admit that for a second, you considered trying to pry the gun out of Coriolanus’ hands and shooting it into your own head. End it all once and for all. Your life has already ended. So what difference would it make? But then you remembered. Your life isn’t just yours anymore. 

You look at the blond through tearful eyes, your hoarse voice swelling in the car. 

“Did you get my brother killed?”

Coriolanus puts on his own seatbelt and turns the key in the ignition. “What an awful assumption to make, princess.”

He grips the steering wheel as the engine roars to life. 

“However, it might be a good time to remember…that your father’s written me into his will.” Your breath stumbles. “Which means, though I prefer him alive to walk my beautiful bride down the aisle…” His blue eyes glimmer, his lips curving upward. “I also don’t need him to be.”

He shakes his head and sighs, running his fingers atop your thigh.

“Who knows how long he still has, with those heart issues of his. Anything could happen.”

“One day you will pay. For all of them,” you grit out, the sheer hate you feel for him overflowing in your tone. 

He fondles your cheek, his smile growing. 

“Perhaps… But not today.” He pauses, as if he just remembered something. He reaches inside the pocket of his coat. 

“Here,” he says as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You witness in horror as Coriolanus removes William’s ring from your finger and slips another one in its place. It’s ostentatious, the red rubies shimmering like blood in the darkness.

Once it’s on your finger, he admires it. He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles. 

“Fits perfectly, just like I know it would,” he chimes. 

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 2) / Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 16.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: part two!! thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sweet, lovely feedback i got on part one, i was so happy you enjoyed the opening chapter!! this part gives some more backstory on reader+bradley, and i hope you like it just as much as you did the first! once more i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you to everyone who said something wonderful and kind about the first part, it meant a lot to me. <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Instead of your alarm, you wake up to a call from Carole. It’s 7:29, and when you raise the phone to your ear, your voice is gruff and achy with sleep.

“Hello?”

It feels just like yesterday. Yesterday, that comes flooding back to you in a barrage of awful memories. All that’s changed is the bed you’re in; you’re still alone. You almost miss Carole’s response because you’re slowly taking in everything that hits you like an anvil from above, but you catch the last word and can discern her meaning.

“-visit?”

“Yeah,” You rub your eyes, feeling tears already gathered there; a great way to start your morning.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” You confirm, and your alarm buzzes against your head. You hastily shut it off and yawn, only inducing more tears and sighing as you speak again, “I’m gonna run to the store real quick, get some stuff for cookies. He convinced me to sneak them in.”

“That boy,” Carole huffs, and even half-asleep, you hear her voice laced with fondness for her son, “Alright honey. How y’doin’?”

“Um,” You ponder, truly unsure as your fingers pick at a stray thread on the blanket; you’d been meaning to replace it for months. “Okay. Not okay, but not- not as bad as yesterday. I think-” You swallow, throat convulsing, “I think I love lying to him if it means I have him back.”

She’s silent for a moment, letting your words sink into your own brain. You feel guilty for them, just like you feel guilty for leading Bradley on, pretending nothing is wrong when your entire lives have fallen apart. But she eventually responds with all of the kindness and love she has inside of her, which is a lot.

“I know, baby. And it’s okay, it’ll get better. It’ll turn out right.”

“I hope so,” You breathe shakily, wishing either her or your boyfriend (pretend boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?) were there to rub soothing circles into your back. 

“I know so.” She promises, and she’s never promised something she couldn’t guarantee. You hope this isn’t her first strike, because her never-ending optimism miraculously lifts your dreary spirits until your chest doesn’t ache with a sob begging to break free. “Alright, baby doll, I’ll let’cha get to baking. I’m gonna see if they’ll let me sneak in early, I- Oh! Nurse,” She calls away from the phone, and you hear her move on the other end, no doubt chasing down a poor nurse that doesn’t want to get fired for letting her in before visiting hours. You hang up the call with a snort, fond of how her fierce love for those around her hasn’t faded in all the time you’ve known her.

Pulling yourself out of bed is hard, but you do it for Bradley. You’re sluggish as you traipse to the bathroom, using deodorant in place of a shower and brushing your hair back into a ponytail. Showers are for people who have the luxury of time, you need to bake fast, and get over there to see if Bradley wakes up remembering anything new- er, old. You hope that he doesn’t, and then you hope that doesn’t make you a bad person.

One of the things you love about the place you’d shared with Bradley is that it’s close to a shopping center with a grocery store. It means that you walk to the supermarket, sandals on your feet and ratty, day-old clothes still on. No one seems to mind when you grab a basket looking like you’ve risen from the dead, and you collect the ingredients for Bradley’s favorite cookies with a skillful, experienced hand. You haven’t paid for anything by card in a while, you’d used emergency cash for the motel, and you wonder if you’ve been locked out of your joint bank account. Probably not; if the state of Bradley’s place had been any indication, he wants you back. But you’re cautious using the card anyways, in case a big red screen comes to life on the monitor in front of you and tells you you’re a terrible girlfriend. Almost a terrible wife.

You’re glad that you don’t run into any of your neighbors on the walk back home, because you don’t want to explain why you look the way you do, nor do you want to burst into tears when they ask where Bradley and his car are. You keep your head down and avoid the trike on the front walkway, ducking back into the house without being spotted. 

Firing up the oven feels heavenly, maybe because you’ve been eating scraps of motel food for two weeks. It reminds you of all the times you’ve baked with Bradley, or, more like the times you’ve baked while Bradley steals pinches of sugar from the bowl or tries to lick the beater when there’s raw egg in the mixture, resulting in more batter in his mustache than in his mouth while you try wrestling the spatula out of his grip.

You go through the oatmeal raisin motions absentmindedly; a master at your craft. It frees up brainpower to reminisce, and you sort through a mental file cabinet to find your favorite memory of baking with Bradley.

--

“I want to try the vanilla,” Bradley reaches for the teaspoon in your hands, and you jerk it away, thankful that it isn’t full of the brown liquid yet.

“Absolutely not,” You laugh, “Brad, it’s gross by itself. It’s like eating straight cocoa powder, it’s meant to be mixed in with something.”

He pouts, he actually pouts, a man of 36. The expression has his mustache hanging over his lower lip and you can’t help but giggle at it, leaning in to kiss the prickly hair on his face.

“You’ll have a cookie to eat soon,” You promise him, dumping a teaspoon of vanilla extract into the mixing bowl. He plays satisfied with your answer, but when you turn your back to fold the mixture in on itself with a spatula, you hear rustling behind you, then the click of a cap, and a muffled gag.

“I told you,” Your voice is sing-song-y, and you turn amusedly to watch Bradley duck under the sink’s faucet, rinsing his mouth out of the bitter taste. He’s scowling when he comes back up for air, water dripping from his mustache as he crosses his arms.

“I thought it would be good.” He mutters, and you nod, humming as a bit of batter smears over your thumb from the spatula.

“That’s because you didn’t listen to me,” You lament, “I know everything, Brad. You should just listen to me, always.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, share some wisdom with me, Almighty One,” He teases, pushing off of the counter to join you at your own, “What should I do?”

He moves with his arms crossed, standing just close enough that you know the only answer you can give.

“Mm,” You pretend to deliberate, really leaning into it with a few contemplative taps at your chin, “Kiss me.”

He gasps dramatically, which is the way that he does most things, “Excellent idea. You really do know everything.”

“Mhm,” You nod, craning your neck up as Bradley leans down to kiss you, “I told you. Listen to me all the time.”

“I will,” He promises, “Quick, tell me we should have sex.”

“Bradley!” You gawp, an incredulous laugh oozing out from your chest, leaving behind a snail trail of joy, “You’re insatiable! We’ve already gone twice today.”

“Mm, can’t help it,” He tsks, backing you into the counter and kissing you once more. His lips press firmly to yours, his hands at your waist caging you into his embrace, “Honey, you taste much sweeter than that vanilla shit.”

--

When you come to, you’re putting the cookies in the oven. You’re alarmed at how zoned out you’d been, but evidently you hadn’t burned the place down, and you shut the oven door, setting a timer on the microwave. You tackle the dishes next, using the time that the cookies bake to tidy up your work station. The dough comes easily off of the mixing bowl and the melted butter drips over your fingers before you scrub it away, still slightly warm from the microwave. There’s only a few plates in the sink that you hadn’t dirtied, and you wonder if Bradley had washed and dried dishes while you were away. Or maybe this was it, four plates of food in two weeks. You’d been treating yourself that way, but it’s heartbreaking to know Bradley had, too.

You try warding off your incoming bout of sniffles by retreating back to your bedroom, choosing a new outfit to wear to the hospital. If you show up in the same thing, Bradley might worry about you, and you don’t want him thinking you were too sluggish to pull yourself together for him. You’re hurt, wounded and scarred with lashes over your heart, but he’s the one with the broken ribs and the lost memories, so you need to play the part of the strong one; the uninjured one.

He can’t know you’re hurting in case he asks why.

Your shower is quick, and you try not to think about Bradley in case you succumb to the urge to cry. Of course, it’s impossible to chase the thoughts from your head, and the feeling of your fingers scratching shampoo through your scalp turns into the feeling of Bradley’s. The hand that slides down your side suddenly isn’t your own anymore, it’s a memory of his. A ghost of him, a whisper against your skin of ‘I promise, baby. You won't lose me’.

You hope more than anything that promise stays true.

You get yourself ready to go with more zeal than you’ve felt in the past two weeks. You’re taking the bus today, to cut down on gas money, and you’re sure you’ll spend the whole time worrying. You’re nervous about seeing Bradley, but it’s a few minutes past eight-thirty and you’re sure if he’d regained his memories, Carole would have notified you. Beyond the nerves you’re almost excited to pretend to be his girlfriend again, excited to live in the fantasy life you’ve created to preserve his peace of mind. You never thought you’d love to lie to him.

You’re much more put together today when you greet the receptionist, and you're not sure you could forget the way to his room if you tried. There’s a bag of the oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in your purse and you slip into the room just as a doctor leans over him to take his temperature.

You adore the way Bradley smiles at you. His eyes meet yours as you stand in the doorway, previously cautious and now elated that he seems to like you still. His face lights up and he calls, ‘Baby,’ alerting the nurse to your presence.

“Miss Mitchell!” The woman greets you, the one who’d brought Bradley’s dinner last night. 

“Hi,” You gush, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that’s made of pure elation. It’s a sickly sweet sound, one that you thought you’d never be able to make again after leaving Bradley. You rush to kiss him when the nurse leans away, scribbling down his temperature on his chart.

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek when you kiss him and the tears that line your eyes are happy ones; there’s still time. There’s still time to soak in his love before he remembers, there’s still time to lose yourself in this fantasy.

You take a moment to breathe after the kiss, doing so against his lips. He does the same, and you bask in each other’s presence, noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. Skin-on-skin, love-on-love.

“His heartbeat really did speed up,” Carole marvels, and you scramble to greet her, guilty that she’d slipped your mind in the rush of emotions you felt.

“Hi! Hi, sorry,” You stammer, wrapping her in a hug while she waves away your apologies.

“No worries, baby!” She squeezes your shoulders, beaming at you. You’re sure she’s thrilled you showed up, and you know Bradley is too from the way he grabs for your hand when you sit by his bed. He’s always been a touchy guy, his hands are never idle, but he’s never been quite this clingy before. It’s good, it helps ground you, and it’s what you need after a two-week bender in a motel.

“Brad,” You coo, unable to resist kissing him again when he turns his head to face you in the bed. He looks more comfortable today than he had yesterday, no more breathing tube or pale skin. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but you’re sure he’s still shaken up from the crash, and you’ll make sure he gets to sleep nice and early tonight.

If you’re able to.

Once you’ve kissed him you dot smaller ones across his face, heart soaring at the gentle laughter that spills from his lips as you do so. You kiss his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the space beside his eyes that’s wrinkled from years of laughter, and when his pretty brown eyes flutter shut, you go for the eyelids, too. You savor each one because you know it could be your last, and when he strokes the back of his hand along your cheek, you lean into the touch.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Newly showered, you felt more put-together than you’d been before, but you’d spent the past two weeks in a pigsty of your own creation, so the compliment means more than he knows.

Apparently, he feels your cheeks grow hot, too. His fingers pick up on the warmth and he laughs again, this time only a normal amount of raspiness clinging to the sound., He’s hyper-affectionate, taking his chance to dot kisses over your features for a change. The giddiness in your chest as his lips press to your skin, mustache prickling it, makes it feel like your heart will burst. You feel undeserving as he showers you with the affection you’ve missed so much, but you’re greedy so you take it anyways, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Carole was taking pictures of you in secret.

“I have some good news,” The nurse reports, and you turn at her voice. She’s angled towards Carole, obviously having meant to leave you and Bradley be in your couple’s reverie, but when she notices that she has your attention too, she speaks to the group.

“Nothing abnormal was documented during your stay here,” She reads off of her chart, “It’s just the concussion and the broken ribs, which is remarkable for the accident you were in. You’re very lucky, Mr. Bradshaw. There was some smoke inhalation from the crash site but that’s not a major issue anymore, and if everything remains stable until dinnertime, you can go home tonight.”

“Oh!” Carole squeals, clapping delicately with her hands in her lap, “That’s fantastic!’

Bradley seems equally pleased, smiling wide, and it takes a lot of willpower to mirror his expression. He knocks his nose into your cheek and you feel his grin against your jaw, so you bring a hand up to scrub through the hair at the back of his neck.

“That’s great,” You conclude weakly, blaming the lull in your voice on being so close to Bradley and not wanting to talk too loud. Carole eyes you nervously, though, trying to mask the worry in her eyes with a smile.

“You should still rest,” The nurse advises, “Those ribs won’t be healed for close to a month, maybe more. And you can sleep through most of the concussion, too. What’s good about going home is it’ll be familiar to you, and it might help trigger those memories you’ve lost. They’re still not back?”

“Nope,” Bradley shakes his head, keeping it pressed to yours, “I got nothin’.”

“Alright,” The nurse hums sympathetically, tucking the chart into a cubby by the door, “We’ll bring lunch at around one, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Thank you!” Carole calls after the nurse as she leaves, then she stands in her flowy skirt, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

“Miss Y/N,” She beams, “Bradley’s already had his breakfast. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no,” You shake your head, “Not yet. Are you going to get something?”

“I am,” She nods, shouldering her purse, “Would you like some hospital pancakes, baby doll?”

“Here,” You stand, but Bradley grabs your hand, keeping you close to his bedside, “I can-”

“You can sit down,” Carole narrows her eyes at you, teasingly menacing, “Sit your butt back in that chair and be with your boyfriend, honey! I can manage two to-go boxes.”

“Thank you,” You gush, settling back into your seat and squeezing Bradley’s hand. He doesn’t let up on his heavy grip until you’re planted in your seat, and even when he does loosen his fingers he still holds you. Carole winks at you when you leave, and Bradley’s attention is solely on you the second the door shuts.

“Y/N,” He murmurs, and sometimes you forget your name isn’t baby or honey around him. You turn, now a little more nervous to be there now that your buffer is gone.

His big brown eyes are oozing their signature sweetness, a golden glint in them under the lights of the hospital room. He looks healthier now, even though you know his ribs hurt, and you’re oh-so-happy to have your Bradley back.

“I missed you,” You confess, and his face breaks into a grin. He nods, leaning up to kiss you, and you close the gap so that he doesn’t have to strain his probably sore muscles.

“I missed you, too,” He breathes, and you kiss him over and over and over again until you think you might be stealing the breath from his lungs. You let up, if only to keep him healthy, otherwise you’d never stop.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming,” His lips close momentarily around your lower one while yours frame his top in a sweet peck.

“The cookies needed time to bake,” You lament, your mouth slightly dewy from his kiss, “Sorry, babe. I would have come faster, I- I should have gotten up earlier, but-”

“You’re here now,” He cuts off your worries, the heated skin of his face pressing against yours like he’s trying to stick to you, “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” You hum dazedly, drunk on his love, “What about the cookies, do those matter?”

His eyes widen in consideration and he tilts his head to the side, mouth scrunching in a thoughtful frown, “Yeah, those matter too. Oatmeal raisin?”

“Oatmeal raisin,” You promise, digging through your purse, “Are you still on the hospital diet?”

“Honey,” He declares, sounding like his father's son as pride prickles his mustache, “I’d eat your cookies even if they killed me. Lay one on me, sugar.”

You snort at his cocky drawl, withdrawing a cookie from the bag in your purse. You break a piece off, hand-feeding him like his arms are still weak.

“Speaking of sugar,” You muse, stealing a bite of the treat for yourself and speaking with it pinched between your teeth, “I was thinking about baking together earlier. It was awful being alone, there was no one to eat the sugar out of the bowl.”

“Or drink the vanilla extract,” He cracks, and you laugh with glee.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking of!” You gush, taking his hand once more and squeezing it, “You gagged.”

“I don’t know! I just thought it’d taste good! I love vanilla,” He laments, only fuelling more laughter from you. 

“Yeah, well you got a lot of it,” You chuckle, “Anyways, it was weird not having you there. I had to do the dishes all by myself.”

“Poor baby,” He croons, half sincere and half teasing. He strokes a hand down your cheek that you yearn to kiss, but it goes by too fast, “How’d you manage?”

“I thought about you,” You confess, and some of that amusement in his eyes dims, giving way to complete and total admiration.

“Yeah?” He breathes, incredulous like he's twelve and he can’t believe his crush actually likes him. He’s always had that sort of puppyish aura about him, like you’re not just his girlfriend, you’re his best friend, and he’s always happy you’re along for the ride. It’s probably why he holds your hand so frequently, like he is now.

“Yeah,” You nod, flipping his palm in yours and tracing over the lines etched into it, “It’s not home there without you, Brad.”

“We go back tonight,” He smiles, keeping his voice low so that it doesn’t shatter the serenity around you, “Together.” You notice a sheen of tears over his eyes and you fall in love with him all over again, unable to hold yourself back from admiring how much he loves you. You really, really don’t know how you fucked this up.

“Yeah,” You croak, smiling weakly down at his hand instead of into his eyes, “Together.”

“Breakfast,” Carole sings, propping the door open with her foot as she steps inside. Your heads turn in sync, and you see her holding two plates, both covered with plastic lids. “Miss Y/N, three pancakes for you, and there’s syrup for days.”

“Thank you,” You rush to help her, and some piece of your heart stays in Bradley’s palm when you drop it. You suspect you won’t get it back unless he forgives you eventually, or maybe he’ll keep it even if he does. You trust him with it, he’ll take care of it.

You wish you'd offered him and his heart the same courtesy.

Carole hands you your breakfast and takes a seat on Bradley’s opposite side, caging him in between his two girls.

“You want some, baby?” Carole croons at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“No thanks, ma,” He clears his throat, turning to face you with a puppy-eyed look that he’s had mastered since age three, “But I would love another bite of cookie?”

“Oh, take it,” You grumble, handing over the baked good for Bradley to devour, “But if your blood sugar rises, or something, it’s not my fault.”

“Won’t tell a soul,” Bradley promises, a mouthful of oatmeal raisin already impairing his speech, “Thanks, honey.”

“Mm-hm,” You nod, your mouth similarly stuffed with food. The pancakes are good, considering they came from a cafeteria that also serves tuna and jell-o.

“Y/N, baby,” Carole calls just as much sugar in her voice as is in her breakfast, “Pass me that syrup?”

She’s asking for a container you’ve got in your hand, half-empty. She doesn’t want to open a new one and waste the contents, so you pass it over, but a drizzle drips off of the side and lands on Bradley’s chin. 

He rears his head back as it falls, but he can’t burrow far enough into the pillow to dodge it. You squeal through your mouthful, swallowing quickly and painfully to rush out an apology you’re sure he doesn’t care about receiving.

“Sorry, Brad.” You curse your clumsiness, grabbing for a napkin but getting a better idea instead. You stand and lean over him to kiss the syrup off of his chin, feeling his face split into a grin while your lips are still attached to it. You can't keep a smile off of your face either, licking your lips clean of the stickiness.

“Cuties!” Carole giggles, just as giddy of a grin on her face as is on yours and Bradley’s. You’re sure she’s ecstatic to see you getting along so well, glad to know your acting isn’t just that.

“I was telling Bradley earlier,” You speak disjointedly through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, “When I was baking his cookies, I was thinking about the times we’ve baked together. Wanna tell’er what you did, Brad?”

“Oh,” He groans, “No. Not fair, baby, I’m bed-ridden. I’m dying,” He sticks a protective hand over his ribs, now magically unable to lift his head from the pillow, “You can’t tell embarrassing stories of me to my mom.”

“I didn’t! I offered you the chance to tell it,” You roll your eyes, wary as you hear a nurse pass by the door. Bradley’s cookie is in plain sight, and he stuffs it into his mouth for safekeeping as the footsteps pass. No one comes in, though, and he struggles to finish his mouthful.

“Oh,” Carol gushes, “Somebody tell me! I wanna know, y’know I love teasin’ you, Brad.”

“Mom!’ He gawps through a mouthful of oatmeal, “Rude!”

“What’s rude is talkin’ with your mouth full,” Carole scolds, swatting him on the shoulder, “Swallow first, mister.”

“He ate-” You start, but Bradley lunges for you with impressive agility, twisting his torso to the side to clamp a hand over your mouth. You laugh, long and loud and brash while Bradley tries to muffle it. In his haste to silence you he tries saying ‘No!’ but he’s still got a mouthful of cookie, and the crumbs that don’t get caught in his mustache rain over your legs.

You’re still laughing. It’s messy, it’s gross, there’s half-chewed cookie on your lap, but Bradley’s holding you close, his strong arms around your head while he keeps a tight grip on your mouth. He’s laughing too, chest shaking as he tries powering through the mouthful of food that he’s got. Finally he swallows, but he doesn’t let go, only blows fruitlessly at the crumbs littering your pants.

“I’m sorry,” He pants, short of breath from chuckling, “If you hadn’t been so hellbent on embarrassing me, I wouldn’t have spewed raisins into your pancakes.”

“Gross! Okay!” You laugh uncontrollably into his palm between giggles, kissing at the skin there, “Okay. You win.”

He lets up only when you stop struggling, letting yourself sink into his embrace no matter how uncomfortable. A thought prods at the back of your mind like a lightning rod, sending a jolt of pain down your spine when it reminds you that this isn’t real. But you push it away, you don’t let it paralyze you, and your smile never falls.

“I’m sorry,” You hum to Bradley, while Carole watches you with amusement dancing in her pretty eyes, as well as in her movie star smile, “I just thought your mom would have liked to hear. That’s all.”

“She would,” Bradley nods, leaning back in his bed, finally at ease, “That’s why you can’t tell her.”

“You’re no fun,” She groans, and you finish up the last of your pancakes, gathering all of the trash (and cookie crumbs) to put them in the can. You have to let go of Bradley’s hand to make it across the room but when you’re by the door you stay there, your boyfriend’s eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You reach for the doorknob, then, while he can't reach you, “Carole, he ate vanilla extract.”

The nurse down the hall gives you a strange look as you rush to shut the door on both Bradley’s indignant shout and Carole’s gleeful giggles.

“Does he need help?” He looks at you skeptically, and you shake your head.

“We’re teasing him,” You brush the nurse’s concerns away, “Where’s the gift shop?”

True to your word, you stop by the bathroom, but your real destination is the gift shop. There’s a stuffed bear inside with fur the exact caramel shade of Bradley’s hair, and you only wish it had a mustache. Otherwise, it’s identical, flight gear on and aviators over its eyes. 

“Hi,” You greet the cashier at the counter, handing over the bear and a book you plan on reading to him in your downtime, “Just these.”

While she rings up your purchase you hear the sliding doors behind you open, and you turn to see your dad and Nick enter. Their faces light up at the sight of you, and when the cashier gives you back the bear, you show it off to them.

“Just gotta get it a mustache,” Nick tugs softly on one of the bear’s ears, “Now that’s a good lookin’ bear!”

“I was gonna get’im a movie to watch,” Your dad beelines for the DVDs, but you pull him back.

“Dad,” You murmur, walking him and Nick towards the door, “He can just use his phone. Everything here is way too expensive.” You throw a kind smile at the cashier like you hadn’t just insulted her trade, “Thank you!”, and lead the way back to Bradley’s room.

The elevator ride almost goes sour when Nick tries pushing all of the buttons at once. You’re not sure how Carole has survived living with him for this long, but you swat his hands away with an incredulous shout.

“Don’t! I wanna get these back to him,” You beg, bear and book in hand, “I’ll bet he’s so bored.”

“You seen him already?” Your dad raises a brow, and you nod.

“Carole’s there, too,” You hum, “We just finished breakfast.”

“Does he ‘member anything new?” Goose asks, and that little lightning rod comes back, tazing your brain, burning one word into the matter there; liar, liar, liar. All of a sudden the elevator is too small, and you’d rather be anywhere but.

“Nope,” You shake your head, turning to face the doors of the elevator that ding, “Nothing.”

“Bradley!” Nick cheers, seeing his son alive and well, “Made it through the night?”

“Barely. Spent more time on my phone than I did asleep,” Bradley scoffs, and your heart skips a beat, not in a good way. Again you wonder if he’s found mystifying evidence of your breakup, an unfollow on instagram or a deletion of date nights from the calendar.

You’re sure he would have brought something up if he was confused, but you’re sneaking around, and it makes you paranoid enough to believe everything will fall apart at a moment’s notice. You have no peace, not when Bradley isn’t holding you.

“Well you’re going home tonight,” Carole reminds him, stroking over his cheek fondly, “You’ll get some good rest there, Brad.”

“Hey, alright!” Your dad whoops, “They’re cuttin’ you loose?”

“After dinner,” Bradley nods, “They said if nothing weird happens I can leave.”

“Congrats, Brad.” Nick claps him on the shoulder, standing in front of the seat you’d abandoned to go get his gifts.

His gifts!

You fumble with the bag in your hands, pulling the bear out first and passing it over.

“Oh, baby,” Bradley laughs, admiring its miniscule flight gear, “Bear’s almost as handsome as me.”

“Nah, a little more.” Pete squints at it, “It doesn't have that ugly mustache.”

“Hey!”, Father and son rage in unison, and Nick slaps your dad’s arm hard enough for Bradley, too.

“Uh, Carole,” You murmur, but the soft sound catches Bradley’s attention anyways. He’s drawn to you like a fly to honey, stuck in every last drop of your sweetness.

“I need to ask your mom a favor,” You smile down at Bradley, brushing hair away from his eyes, “Can we slip out?”

“Okay,” He hums skeptically, “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” You drag your voice out dramatically, leaning down to peck at his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, and feels comforting against your lips.

“We’ll keep’im busy,” Nick declares, taking the book that you hand him, “Want me to read to you, Brad?”

“No.”

“Too bad! Ooh, Little Women. Wanna do voices with me, Mav?”

You and Carole step out before Nick or your dad could pull out any high-pitched giggles, and Bradley’s mom looks at you worriedly.

“What is it, baby doll?”

“I need help,” You confess, “If Bradley’s coming home tonight, he’s gonna notice a hell of a lot of stuff missing from our place. I just took everything I could grab and I ran,” You recall, dry swallowing at the thought of the boxes piled into your motel room, “I can’t put everything back by myself, and I- I don’t want to force you to help, but my dad and NIck can’t know, and-”

“Slow down, sugar,” She hums, reaching out to rub a soothing hand up and down your arm, “I’ll help you. What do we got, clothes and shoes?”

“And books, and toiletries, and... puzzles.” You concede drearily.

“Baby,” Carole arches a brow, looking almost sympathetically at you, “You brought puzzles with you?”

“I thought I’d be bored!” You reason, shoulders stiff to your ears, “But I haven’t had much of an appetite for puzzling.”

“Alright, I’ll help you,” She promises, “How long are we gonna need, honey?”

“A few hours,” You shrug, “We can carpool to base, I’ll pick up his Bronco, and we can head to the motel I’ve been at to get my stuff. We’ll need the extra space in the back of his car.”

“Okay! Okay,” Carole gushes, and you think she’s almost a little exhilarated by this spy operative, “Let’s stay for lunch, then we’ll go. We’ll say- uh, the house needs cleaning!”

‘Perfect,” You rub at your temples, “Thanks, Carole. And- and we’ll buy party decorations,” You snap your fingers, “I told him we were out here talking about a surprise, so we’ll throw a little welcome home thing tomorrow, have cake or something. That’s our alibi.”

“Got it! I’m off to the bathroom,” She heads down the hallway, “Get back in there!”

“-told you, I’m Jo!” Your dad is standing squared to Nick, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, “It’s not fair that you get to be everyone!”

“Well if you did the voices right, I wouldn’t have to take over everything,” Nick huffs, “Tell’im Brad, that was a shitty Beth impression!”

“Both of you suck,” Bradley drawls, his eyes tracking you intently as you slip back into the room, “Baby, you okay?”

You shake off any residual nerves from your scheming with Carole, nodding as light-heartedly as you can, “Yeah! Yeah, Brad,” You take your seat beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you. He's always good at reading you, and everything about you right now is a lie. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t react like you want him to, he still doesn’t believe you. He studies you when you pull away, and you laugh in defeat, “I promise, I’m just exhausted from all of this. But that shouldn’t matter, I wasn’t the one whose jet crashed! As soon as we get you home I’ll be fine.”

That seems to work, clearing away the worry swirling in Bradley’s honey-colored eyes. He nods, smiling softly, “Yeah, me too.”

He takes your hand, and you’re starting to wonder how you’d ever survived without holding his. You hadn’t held hands this frequently even when you’d been together, not that Bradley knows there’s a difference. Your heart aches for the man beside you, how shaken up he must be to cling to you like a lost puppy.

While Nick and Pete argue you feel Bradley’s fingers slip from yours, and it’s such an unexpected motion that you turn to watch him. He’s looking intently at your hand, though there's an absent-minded air about him, and your stomach drops when he ghosts his rough thumb gently over your ring finger. 

“Brad?” You murmur, trying to keep from choking up, “‘Love you.”

He smiles, eyes trained back on yours and full of tenderness, “Love you too, sweetheart. Where’s my mom?”

“Bathroom,” You drop your eyes down to his hands, studying his own bare ring finger. You hope you get to see it decorated one day.

“Do you want me to read to you?” You look back up at him, your nose nearly bumping his cheek. Nick has left the book on the side table near the foot of Bradley’s bed in order to gesture with both hands, and you’re sure they wouldn’t notice if you lit it on fire where it sat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” Bradley laughs breathily, “I haven’t been hearing your voice much lately. Not like I used to.”

“I know,” You lament, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble. You know he means unobscured, private, without beeping in the background and the ever-present threat of a nurse coming in to kick you out, but you hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in weeks, so you understand the internal yearning.

“Come here,” Bradley suggests when you fetch the book, offering up the right side of his bed. It’s small, nothing you wouldn’t attempt at home but something you don’t want to risk in the hospital.

“No, it’s okay, Brad.” You shake your head, trying to pat the blankets down around him but he doesn’t let you, reaching for your thigh.

“No, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You insist, standing when he tries dragging you into the bed with him, “It’s okay, Brad, let’s just sit. We can be closer when we’re home, but for now I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks crushed. Really, truly crushed, his brown eyes holding such a vulnerable look in them that you feel like you’ve just punted a puppy across a football field.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” You repeat, swallowing thickly as tears prick at your eyes. You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’m scared, Bradley.”

You’re scared about more than just that. You haven’t held him in weeks, nor has he held you. You’re afraid that you might never recover from this, but if he wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your hair and holds you close, you know you never will. You’ll spend the rest of your days living in regret, and your self-preservation instinct is kicking in again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Bradley murmurs, though he doesn’t need to be quiet now that Nick and your dad have stopped bickering. They’re stealing sneaky glances at the two of you, acting like their sunglasses stop them from being noticed even though their heads are turned towards you.

His words strike something within you that he didn’t mean for them to. He’s spoken unknowingly to your outstanding promise with yourself, that you won’t run away because something is scary. And your promise to Carole, as well, that you’ll make her son feel loved before he remembers that love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“Bradley,” You breathe, book in one hand as you use the other to stroke through his hair. You’re standing at his bedside and he takes advantage of your proximity, sitting up and off of his pillows to lean his head against your stomach. 

You’re glad he can’t see your face, because tears rush from your eyes in seconds. He’s a sweet man whose brain operates on love first, and thought second, so when he hooks his arms around your waist and nestles his face into your tummy, you know it’s his instinct to hold you. 

At the sight of your tears the other men in the room decide to take their leave, smiling sadly at you while you comb your fingers through Bradley’s hair. 

“We’ll give you some time,” Your dad whispers, but Bradley can hear just fine, “Bye, honey.”

You aren’t able to offer them a wave in response, but they know you appreciate it. 

Once more the sterile hospital room is inhabited by only you and Bradley. Souls intertwined, tangled in some places and parallel in others, you hold him, stroking through his hair and praying he never picks his face up out of your stomach. There’s snot threatening to run down your lip but you don’t dare sniffle at the thought of ruining the moment, keeping your chest deathly still where it yearns to shake with sobs.

“I love you,” You whimper, dropping the book to cage his head to your belly, “I love you, Bradley, I- I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He speaks into your stomach, and the sound vibrates through your body, warming you with a tingly sensation like the one you’d gotten from your very first kiss with Bradley.

You’re sure he knows you’re crying now, now that your voice drips with tears and your hands shake in his scalp. He doesn't break away, though, only tugs you closer, keeping his face nestled to your body as he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap. You’re mindful of his broken ribs, but there’s nothing wrong with his thighs, so when you land on top of them, you let yourself rest there. 

Bradley’s wormed his nose against your cheek, no longer snug in your stomach but flush to your face instead. He holds you like he used to, before you spooked and ran, before he fell out of the sky in a blaze of flames, before anything in your life was complicated. He holds you like he held you when you were just Y/N and Bradley, cradling your face to his chest and tucking his chin over your head.

“You’re hurting, too,” He murmurs, rocking you ever-so-slightly back and forth as you sit sideways on his lap. He keeps you tucked to his chest, smooths your hair with one hand and holds your waist with the other. 

“I’m the one that went down but you’re the one who got that phone call,” He moves his hand from your hair to your back, scratching aimlessly there, “You’re allowed to be upset over that. You don’t have to pretend like nothing is wrong just because I’m in the hospital. I don’t want you to pretend to be strong if it’s only gonna make you weaker. Talk to me, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” You wail, clutching his hospital gown and praying you aren’t hurting his ribs, “Bradley, I- I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you, not here, not now. I’m scared,” You weep, “I’m really scared, Bradley.”

“Don’t be. You’re okay,” He promises, pecking a soft kiss against the crown of your head, “Baby, you’re safe with me. You don’t have to be scared of anything. Of talking, or feeling, or hurting. That’s what I’m here for, angel, to talk with you, to feel with you, to hurt with you. That’s what love is, honey, and I love you, you know I do.”

His voice wobbles slightly on the last fragment of his sentence, and you don’t think you can handle seeing him cry. You’re terrified out of your mind, but determined just the same not to run, and it’s stuck you in this awful paralyzed state. All you can do is hold Bradley, all you can do is let him hold you, and hope that his memories never return.

“I don’t want to stress you out,” You mourn, picking your head up from his chest to press it to his face instead. You want to fuse yourself to him, so that he couldn’t cast you away if he tried.

“I’m stressed about whatever you’re not telling me,” He laughs sadly, a soft huff of air from his chest, “Baby, it makes me stressed knowing you’re shutting yourself in like this. Knowing there’s stuff going on up here that you don’t want to talk to me about.” 

He taps your head, then smooths his hand down the nape of your neck to rub at your back.

“Tell me,” He begs, voice raw with despair, “Please, angel, tell me what you’re feeling.”

You owe him the truth. Concealing the truth was one thing. Sneaking around, covering up behind his back so that he didn’t notice anything peculiar was a preventative measure. But now he’s asked for your honesty, now it’ll be lying if you don’t tell him. Now you’ll be lying to him, really and truly lying to him, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You choose honor this time, sniffling hard and bracing your hand on his chest so that you can look him in the eyes if you feel brave enough.

“Bradley,” Your words roll off of your tongue with the weight of steel, and you have to force them out of your throat to get them to go at all, “I want to be honest with you. But I’m scared-” Your face crumples, and you fight to right it, “But- but that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to shut you out, You’re right, you-” You falter, the pitch of your voice wobbly as you take a deep breath, “You love me. And I know I can be honest with you.”

“You can,” Bradley promises, stroking his knuckles over your cheek. He stares into your eyes, and you stare into his only to get a last glimpse of their sweet honey-like hue.

“You should know,” You drop your eyes, unable to confess while looking into his, “I love you, Bradley. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” He promises, “Now what’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s-”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” A nurse steps into the room, and instantly the moment is shattered. There’s no picking up the pieces, no glue in the world strong enough to repair the bravery you’d mustered up to be honest with Bradley. 

He looks annoyed at her interruption, something you know he wouldn’t normally feel towards anyone doing their job, but he refrains from snapping at her.

“Yes?”

“We need to run some vital tests. Blood sugar, heart rate, breathing, the like. After they’re cleared, we’ll know if you can return home or not.”

From his hold on you, you gather that there’s nothing Bradley would rather do less in the world than let you go, and there’s nothing you’d rather do less than let him, but you peel away from him reluctantly, standing where you’d been tucked into his lap. He settles back against his pillows that you’re sure are cold now, and you tuck the blanket beneath his thigh to keep him warm.

He ducks his gaze and you see tears lining his eyes that you want to wipe away, but he grabs for your hand again, and you hope that’s enough for him.

The nurse pokes and prods at him, reads machines and scribbles their information down, and the door opens once again before she’s done conducting her tests. Carole, Nick, and Pete step back through the doors, smiling sheepishly at you. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nick and your dad had held Carole off from coming back to the room while you spoke, which you’re grateful for. You just wish you'd had a little more time.

“Alright,” The nurse claps, smiling cheerily like she hadn’t just shattered your moment, “You are in good shape, Mr. Bradshaw. Your blood sugar is a little high,” She notes with a furrowed brow, and you shoot a knowing glance at Bradley, “But everything else seems right. Your ribs should heal within a few weeks time, and once you get back home and see familiar surroundings, your memories should return. All you need to do is rest, once I get these processed and signed off by the doctor, you’ll be good to go!”

“Thank you,” Carole gushes, while Bradley just nods with a tight smile on his face, jaw tight in irritation at the four unwanted parties in the room.

“Goin’ home, big guy.” Nick grins at Bradley as the nurse makes her leave. He claps his son on the leg and this time Carole doesn’t intervene, “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Shower,” Bradley rasps, “There’s ash in my hair.”

“Not anymore,” You showcase your hands, dust and ash clinging to the spaces between your fingers from when you’d run them through Bradley’s hair. 

He laughs at the sight, “Still. The second thing on my list is sleep, and I don’t want to get anything on the sheets.”

“Good plan,” Carole beams at her son, hooking her arm around yours, “Baby, we should head out. We’ve got lots to do for this surprise of yours,” She gloats at Bradley, then turns back to you, “But you should wash your hands first, honey.”

“Okay,” You nod, eager to get out of a situation you’d been so courageous in only minutes before, “I’ll- um, get my stuff.”

You bend towards your purse, taking the bag of cookies out, “If your blood sugar rises and lands you in here for another night,” You warn, “I’m never making these again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley nods, but your dad is the one to take the bag, not him.

“Don’t steal them,” You narrow your eyes at your dad and Nick, “And don’t get caught feeding him any. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am!” They echo Bradley, standing at attention. You scoff, turning back to Bradley and leaning down to meet him where he lays back on his pillows.

“I love you,” You hum, and he’s already reaching out for you before you can touch him. He sits upright, grabbing for your hands and tilting his face upwards to beg for a kiss.

“I love you, too,” He mumbles, speaking lowly against your lips as you kiss him. When you pull away he wants more, keeping your hands firmly in his grip when you try to leave.

“Bradley,” You let out a soft laugh, but you kiss him again anyways, knowing he’s still reeling from being a second away from finding out the truth, the extent of which he’s not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” You whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead to his, “We’ll talk later.”

”Yeah,” He nods, arching up into your embrace even though he knows he has to let you leave.

He calls out again before you leave, “Love you!” And you repeat it with a sad smile on your face, letting Carole take your hand while Nick and your dad sit at Bradley’s bedside. The last you see of him is his fading grin as you wave goodbye before the door shuts, and you’re in the hallway.

“Something happened in there,” She gushes, misplaced excitement shining from her eyes like a sunbeam, “I just know it! He was all lovey-dovey when you left, even moreso than usual. He really didn’t want you to go, angel.”

“I almost told him,” You mutter as Carole leads you to the elevator, nerves churning your stomach.

“What?” Her smile drops in surprise, and she stomps to a halt on the tiled floor. She presses the button, and when the elevator dings she ushers you inside.

“He asked me to be honest with him,” You recall, sick at the thought of how close you’d been to losing him, “And- and he was holding me, Carole, like he used to. And I couldn’t help it, I just- I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t stand lying to him and pretending nothing was wrong. But I- I don’t know if I can do that again. I don’t know if I can tell him the truth. I tried, and we got interrupted, I mean- isn’t that a sigh? Some sort of clue left by the universe to tell me to wait a little longer?”

“Baby I don’t think the universe is sendin’ you clues,” Carole looks sympathetically at you, “I think you’re lookin’ for reasons to run away again. I know I’m the one that told you to pretend, but that boy can read you like a book, and if he’s catchin’ on, maybe you ‘oughta give it up. I saw him in there, honey.” The door dings and slides open, and she takes your hand to lead you outside, “There’s nothin’ he wouldn’t forgive you for. He was clinging onto you like a leech, and I think he’d understand you were scared. Might not like it, but he’d understand.”

“He keeps saying that I’ll never lose him, or- or that he loves me, or that I can tell him what’s bothering me,” You gesture with your free hand as you walk to the parking lot, “And- and it feels so perfect! Like he knows exactly what I need to hear. Like I could tell him and nothing would change. But everything would change, and- and I don’t want that,” You suppress a sob as you reach Nick and Carole’s car, pulling open the door to the passenger’s side. 

She stashes her purse by your feet, stuffing the key into the ignition, “Baby, everything’s already changed. He just doesn’t know that. But he will soon, and once he does, he’s gonna realize why you’ve been acting so weird. If you were pullin’ it off, I’d say keep going. If he wasn’t asking questions, you could keep this up, ‘cause you’d be doing him a favor. That was the whole point, baby, to let him down nice and easy, give him a bit of time to adjust to the crash before confessing about the breakup. But I should’ve known he’d realize you were lyin' to him,” She scoffs, checking her mirrors, “That boy would notice you’d changed your haircut from just your voice on the phone. He knows you too well, honey, and if he’s askin’ all the right questions and you’re giving him all the wrong answers, that’s gonna stress him out. And that’s doing the opposite of what we want. If this is just gonna make things worse, I say tell him. But-” She backs out of the spot, en route to base to fetch his car, “Not yet. Wait until you’re home. Then he’s in a familiar environment, you can kneel by the bedside and grovel if you want,” She waves a hand in the air, “Just be honest with him baby, if it’s what he’s askin’ for.”

She barely lets you mull her words over before she starts again, “I think it’s a good time. You told me that when you left, you wish you hadn’t. And you’ve spent the last two days showing that to him, even if he doesn’t know that’s what you’re doing. He knows you love him, and I think he’ll forgive you if you confess that you were just scared of losing him. ‘Cause you can’t fake love like that, honey.” She eyes you through the mirror, “You can pretend y’all never broke up, but the way you love him, that’s not pretend, and he knows that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” You sniffle, “If he doesn’t know by then. I- I know I have to, even if it’s scary.”

“Atta girl,” She gushes, nearly flooring it at a green light in her excitement, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t be,” You grumble, ‘Not yet. Not until I do it.”

“I know you will,” She decides, “You’ve never lied to me before.”

“Actually,” You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, “I have, once.”

She narrows her eyes, gives you a sideways glance as she makes a turn, “Oh, really? And when was that?”

“Uh, when we were in high school, I told you Bradley and I were staying at my place while my dad was gone,” Your face twists into an involuntary smile at the memory, “We went to Vegas.”

“What?” She shrieks, almost stomping on the breaks, “Vegas?”

“It was just for a night! And we didn’t gamble,” You scoff, “They wouldn’t let us into any casinos.”

“Ooh, you two,” She seethes, but it’s happened so long ago that she can’t be mad, not really, “Surprised y’all didn’t get married down there.”

“Actually,” You laugh, “We tried. But you weren’t there to sign off on it, and we were only 17.”

She shares a laugh with you at the memory, pulling into the security checkpoint outside of the naval base. You have to pass your ID over her, and you explain that you’re just picking up your partner’s car. They let you in, but you don’t think they like your presence very much, so you get the car and go as quickly as you can.

“It’s the motel just off the freeway,” You gesture in the direction of the place you’ve been staying, “We’ll load up the Bronco and meet back at our place.”

“See you there, babydoll,” Carole grins, already headed for the exit.

You roll up your window just as your phone buzzes, and you put the call on speaker while your phone balances on the cupholder.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Bradley’s voice bleeds through the crackly speakers. Then, like an attached toddler their first night away from mom, “I miss you.”

It’s just what you need to hear after your gut-wrenching conversation with Carole, and you croon while waving to the security officers on the way out, “I miss you too, Brad. I picked up your car. Didn’t want her sitting all alone on base.”

“Thanks, babe,” You can hear the grin in his voice, “Is my mom still with you?”

“No, she’s driving herself,” You merge lanes, brain on autopilot as you head for the motel, “And don’t ask what we’re doing, it’s a surprise.”

He scoffs; you’ve caught him, “Fine. They gave me lunch. It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, feeling more at home in Bradley’s Bronco than you had in your half-empty house, “I’ll make you something good for breakfast tomorrow, baby. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, fruit, whatever you want to eat.”

He takes a pause, then, “I have something inappropriate to say. But your dad’s still here, so I can’t.”

You let out a bark of bewildered laughter, especially when you can hear your dad’s voice in the background as he groans.

“I get the idea,” You promise him, and you hear Bradley huff a soft laugh into the speaker. You almost want to record the call, just to keep the sound forever.

“When are you guys coming back?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” You lament, tailing Carole as she heads for the freeway exit, “Hopefully before dinner. But if not, I’ll definitely be there when you get discharged, and I can drive you home.”

“And we can shower,” Bradley adds on to your sentence, eliciting another disgruntled sound from your dad, “And sleep.”

“And we can shower and sleep,” You promise, chest feeling light at the night’s plan. You’re pulling into the motel parking lot now, the dingy sign colored more in spiderwebs than in neon.

“I’ve gotta go, Brad.” You put the car in park, grabbing your phone and switching speaker off, “I love you. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He’s hesitant to answer, and you wish you didn’t have to hang up. You know he’s still uneasy about the way that your talk ended earlier, but he finally speaks up, “Alright. Love you, too.”

“So much,” You hum, “Love you so much.”

“So much,” He agrees, more of that audible grin in his voice, “See you later, angel.”

“See ‘ya,” You hum, and it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to hang up, not after that.

Carole’s standing ready at the strip of doors, and you pull the small, rusty key out of your pocket. There’s nearly ten boxes stacked in your room, and you prop the door open with one as you gather anything that isn’t packed away.

You haven’t changed clothes much since being there, nor have you been keeping up with your hygiene as well as you should be, so the clean-up process feels like a day's worth, not two week’s worth. But you’re thankful for the easy pickup as you load it into a half-empty box, hauling it out the door and to the Bronco.

Packing the boxes goes fast when you work with Carole. It had been much more of a struggle to cart two at a time from your place to the motel room, but with a little maneuvering, all nine boxes fit snugly between her car and yours.

“Alright,” You dust off your hands, picking at the edge of your nail, “You ready?”

“Actually, you go home,” She decides, “And I’ll go to the party supply store. I’ll pick up some ‘Welcome Home’ stuff, and when I get back I’ll help you with the rest of the boxes, and we can set up together.”

“Perfect,” You heave a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Of course, baby!” She seems to have a never-ending supply of optimism, one that you’re thankful for because you seem to harbor the opposite.

Hauling your boxes back into the house is unexpectedly the easy part. What’s harder is putting everything back, filling in the gaps in the bookshelf with your own volumes, stuffing the dresser with the clothes you’d chosen to take with you.

When Carole gets back you’re dragging your thumb over the shirt you’d taken off of your pillow, ready to fold it and destroy the evidence of its association with your two-week disappearance. She peeks into the bedroom, expecting to find you hard at work organizing your novels, and instead sees you sitting on the bed looking like you’re going to puke.

“Baby,” She hums, “What’s the matter?”

“He put this over my pillow,” You sniffle, staring down forlornly at the object that had offered comfort to Bradley when you hadn’t, “He slept with it.”

“Oh, baby,” Carole whispers, standing behind you and rubbing your shoulders, “He loves you. Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you think it means everything’ll turn out okay?”

“What if he doesn’t want me back?”

For the first time, you say it out loud. You’ve insinuated it, sure, thought about it, but you’ve never said it yet. Not out loud. You voice the fear that’s been bouncing around like a balloon in your head, popping it and feeling the aftershocks flow through you. 

She’s quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say any more than you do. But she bends down, wraps her arms around your shoulders and hums, “He will, baby. He’s been sleepin’ with your shirt this whole time, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t miss you.”

“But even if he misses me, I still hurt him,” You sniffle, “I- I left, is missing me enough for him to want me back in his life? What if I went too far? What if we can’t come back from this? What if I lose him forever, Carole?”

“He kept my ring.” She murmurs, her voice the calm to your storm. 

“What?”

“He kept it. Even though it wasn’t on your finger, he didn’t give it back to me. And he wouldn’t dare give that to anyone else, Y/N. It’s your ring, he knows it. That’s why he kept it, ‘cause he still wanted you to have it. He loves you even if you did hurt him, baby,” She sniffles, and you feel bad that you’ve made her cry, “That’s what love is. Sometimes you hurt each other, but if it’s love you find your way back. And what you’ve got is the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Your silence is enough of a reply, and you’re glad because it’s all you can muster. You can’t find the words to thank her, to tell her you hope she’s right, to beg to whatever deity exists for mercy. All you can say is, “I don’t wanna take it off,” As you stroke a finger down the shirt over your pillow.

“Wear it,” She suggests, pulling at the sweatshirt you’re wearing, “Put that on underneath it, baby. He won’t notice, and you can have it on you as a reminder that he misses you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to tell him.”

“Okay,” You sniff, a stray tear drying sticky on your cheek as you stand. She turns you around and pulls you into a real hug, and you let her squeeze you before going to the bathroom to change.

The shirt smells like Bradley now that he’s slept with it for two weeks. You’re sure you’re just immune to your own scent, and that he could still find traces of it to lull him to sleep at night, but wearing it now feels just as comforting as you bet it felt for him to sleep with it.

When you wander out of the bedroom you find Carole in the living room. She’s standing on your coffee table with her right leg, and her left is on the arm of the couch. She’s pinning a banner to the wall, ‘Welcome Home Bradley!’.

“Hey honey!” She beams at the sight of you in your shirt, you’d forgone the jacket to not overheat while moving things around. 

“Do you need help?” You watch her drive a pin into the wall with her thumb, and she shakes her head as she reaches down for another one, “No, I’ve got this. You just take care of your boxes, I can handle the party.”

“Yeah, you get the fun part,” You tease, and she laughs.

“Darlin’, I wasn’t the one to take my puzzles and run. Now go put ‘em back, I’m sure they’re the first things Brad’ll notice are missing when he gets home.”

You head back into the bedroom without any complaints. It’s hard to put everything back. No, it’s nice to put everything back. What’s hard is pretending it was never gone in the first place; what’s hard is lying.

You slide a lone book into its place on the shelf, one last spot left beside a photo album. Your fingers brush over a gemstone on the cover and you tug at the hefty spine, catching the jam-packed book before it can fall.

“Wow,” You breathe, barely aware that you’re speaking out loud. The cover showcases Bradley pressed up against the hospital’s nursery glass, peering in on a very sleepy baby you snoozing in her bassinet with Carole holding him up. You’d been born shortly after Bradley, not even a year, and he’d been very excited to meet his new best friend at the hospital.

A flip to the first page finds you in your dad’s old apartment, sleeping in your crib while Bradley’s hand wraps around the bars he’d pulled himself up on. Then the next page showcases a photo of him in the crib, curled up in the space by your feet while you sleep peacefully in your own spot.

You take the photo out of its sleeve, flipping it over to read the inscription you know by heart on the back: Bradley’s attached to Y/N at the hip. Won’t sleep anywhere else.

The next photos are more of the same. Bradley holding you on the couch, a gummy grin on his face at the baby in his arms. His hands barely bigger than yours, handing you a toy fighter jet. Tummy time on a play mat, where he’s holding a rattle just out of reach to get you to crawl like he’d seen your parents do. A shot of you tugging on his wispy hair, then a shot of Nick dragging a crying Bradley into his lap while your dad holds your previously clenched fist open. They tell their own story.

You’d been fated best friends from the start, but as you age in the photos, your relationship changes. All of a sudden there’s puppy love in your gaze when you reach your tween years, braces in your mouth and hearts in your eyes. There’s a picture of Bradley teaching you how to skateboard, and you're holding his hands for dear life. You distinctly remember a fiery flush to your cheeks in that moment, and you’re glad the camera hadn’t captured it. There’s New Year’s Eve in your matching pajamas, you cradled in Bradley’s arms like they’d make you pose every year since you’d come into the world. It was cute when you were kids, then it was embarrassing when you were teenagers, and now it’s cute again. In the photo you’re looking at you can’t be more than fourteen, and you know the second the shutter clicked on the camera, you’d scrambled out of his arms like they were burning you. 

You flip through more pages, watching your relationship blossom from friends into lovers. All of a sudden you’re holding hands, you’re matching outfits, and you’re kissing when you think no one is looking. Then there’s the famous picture of Bradley on his 18th birthday, glaring at the camera with a box of condoms in his hands, courtesy of his dad. Funnily enough, your dad shares Bradley’s expression in the background. The inscription on the back of that one reads: Just making sure he’s safe! Don’t want any grandkids, not while I’m still in my glory days - Goose.

That New Year’s Eve photo is special. It’s you still cradled in Bradley’s arms like always, but you’ve leaned up to kiss him, and he’s leaned down to kiss you. You distinctly remember it being the first time you’d willingly kissed on camera in front of your parents, and the giddy smiles you’d forced into makeshift puckers are clear as day in the photo. 

The matching pajama sets you’ve outgrown together are all stored in a box marked ‘sentimental’, not one that you’d taken with you when you’d left. You have a current pair, red and black buffalo print bottoms with fuzzy black tops, and you plan on asking Bradley to wear them tonight.

You haven’t noticed, but a smile has grown on your face, etching itself into your features as you relive your love story. You flip through family vacations, holidays, birthdays, sports games, barbecues, a million family events that Bradley joined you at. There’s never any of you apart, even though he’d been moved around for his career, because no one has ever thought to take a picture of one of you without the other. There’s no Y/N in this book, there’s no Bradley, there’s only Y/N and Bradley, and that’s what you want to be for the rest of your life. You want to fill out the rest of this book with aging photos, clearer in quality while the old ones yellow. You want to stuff this book until the bindings rip, you want to look back through it one day in a rocking chair beside one of Bradley’s own, faces wrinkled and hair grayed. Your story can’t end here.

Your phone buzzes on the bed, and you drop the photo album there while you check your message. No surprise, it’s from Bradley.

- The doctor signed off, I can go home after dinner, which shouldn’t be too much longer. How’s it going over there?

That’s great! You type back, biting a smile off of your face as you respond. It’s residual from looking through the photos, but you have to remember, you’re not there yet. It’s going good. Your mom is scary agile.

- What’s she doing?

Can’t tell you ;)

- Damn! Thought I had you there. Your dad’s eating one of my cookies :(

Tell him I said to leave you alone!

- He says you’re not the boss of him.

Tell him your mom said to leave you alone.

- He says she’s not the boss of him.

Tell your dad to tell him to leave you alone. She’s his boss.

- My dad’s eating one too :( 

Those assholes! I’ll make you more, baby ❤

- I love you best. ❤

I love you too baby ❤

The lingering fear of a breakup - a real one this time, one that doesn't rewind itself amidst burning jet fuel - is stuck in the back of your mind, and you suspect it will be until you finally confess. But the photo album and Bradley’s messages have combined to lift your spirits, and filing your shoes back into their places doesn’t weigh you down as much as you suspected it would. You try to make them look haphazard, jumbling them with Bradley’s and turning a few of them upside down. You two are notorious for having out of control shoe collections, Bradley’s sneakers and your own shoes constantly tumbling out of the closet like a cartoon.

 By the time the sun starts setting early on your California dream you’re nearly done, there’s just a few last garments to slip into your closet. You do so while wrestling with the clothes that are already in there, a hefty collection that leaves little room for the dress you’re trying to wedge inside. Nevertheless, a too-full closet is better than a half-empty one.

“Sugar?” Carole calls from down the hallway, hopefully not precariously balanced on any furniture this time, “Nick says they’re just serving Brad his dinner.”

You finally manage to set the clothes right on their hangers, panting slightly as you withdraw from the closet, “Okay! I’m almost done. We have a lot of clothes.”

She laughs, “Yes you do! You should eat somethin’ before we leave.”

“There’s no food here,” You sigh, “The fridge is empty. I’ll have to go shopping later. I’ll just stop for fast food on the way.”

“Party’s all set up,” Carole nods, jerking her head back towards the hallway, “If you keep the lights off in the living room tonight, he won’t see it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you coming over to celebrate?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ for breakfast,” Carole nods, “We can bring food?”

You laugh huffily, “I wasn’t kidding about there being nothing in the fridge. Anything’s appreciated, thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, baby,” She beams, but reconsiders with a slightly furrowed brow, “Although, I hope this is the only time.”

“Me too,” You scoff, “Alright, let’s head back.”

True to your word, you pull through a fast-food drive-thru on the way back to the hospital. Carole knows Nick’s order, and you know your dad’s, hopeful that they’ll be tired of hospital cuisine and yearning for a burger instead.

However, when you get there, they’re waiting in the lobby, Bradley sat between them. You hadn’t realized how early they were letting him out, and Carole takes the bag of food from you so that you can properly hug Bradley. He stands the moment he sees you, eyes pooling with such urgency as he tries to respect the no-running rule of the hospital. You struggle just the same, and the moment you’re within arms reach of each other, tears start flowing. Bradley yanks you into his chest, almost tipping you forwards and himself backwards with the momentum of his hug. His chin nestles straight over your shoulder, as does yours to his, and it’s the kind of hug you get from him after a long deployment, maybe even more desperate now. His breathing is ragged beside your ear, but not from his medical conditions, from the desperation clogging his lungs. His fist is tight in the back of your sweatshirt but the fabric is loose on you, and it’s not a tight enough hold for him. His fingers scrabble for the shirt beneath the hoodie, gripping onto both garments and keeping you closer than you ever thought you could be with Bradley. Your hands immediately encircle his shoulders, and your fingers find purchase against the baby hairs at the back of his neck. You scratch through the ones at his nape, hearing him sniffle sharply where his chin rests on your shoulder. The hand that isn’t fisted in your clothes is tight to your hip, gripping you so hard that you can feel his nails through the jeans you’re wearing. It’s not painful, it’s just firm, and its strength is reassuring. It’s grounding to hug Bradley again, unobscured by breathing tubes, hospital beds, or prying nurses.

You hear someone’s phone camera sound off, but you’re far from discouraging it. In fact, you’re going to ask whoever it was to send you the photo later. The hug turns into an embrace, one where you sway lightly from side to side, anything that isn’t you or Bradley fading into the background. Your eyes are screwed shut but tears still cascade down your cheeks, melancholy waterfalls that drip off of the curve of your chin and stain Bradley’s t-shirt. He’s dressed in what he’d been wearing beneath his flight suit, the material thankfully not ripped or burnt thanks to the coveralls. You take the lead, pulling back, but he keeps the same level of contact with you. When your chin slips from his shoulder he grabs your face instead, using it to keep you pressed tight to his body. His eyes are teary themselves, streaks of the shimmery stuff down his cheeks and probably in his mustache, too.

“Hi,” You croak, smiling giddily through your tears. 

He smiles, though the chubbing of his cheeks nudges a few more tears out of his eyes, “Hi.”

You smear them away with the palm of your hand, and use your thumb to rid him of the ones clinging to his undereyes. His hands are on your cheeks, too, and he tries mirroring your ministrations, but his thumbs are too shaky to do so. For fear of poking your eyes out, he clamps his hands over your cheeks again, content with holding you while your tears run over the hills and valleys of his fingers.

“You’re standing,” You marvel, ‘I thought you’d be in a wheelchair.”

“It hurts a little bit,” Bradley admits with a slight grimace, and you back away like you’ve been struck. He doesn’t let you get far at all, dropping your face to tug you back by your waist, “-but I’d rather break another rib than let you go.”

“Sap,” You accuse, and Bradley laughs.

His lips twist into a sheepish smile, “Maybe. You can be my tree. I’m stuck on you.”

You sniffle, brow furrowing, “Huh? ‘Cause of the sap thing?”

“Yeah,” He laughs, “Isn’t that what it means? Sticky and sweet like tree sap?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe bashfully, your voice rife with part confusion and part sheepishness, “I guess that makes sense. But I’ve never been called a tree before.”

“I’ll work on my flirting,” He promises, stroking his thumbs up and down your sides in soft, soothing motions, “Can we go home now?”

You nod, “You should hug your mom first.” Only then does Bradley remember that you’re not the only other person in the room, turning in your grip to see your mini crowd of adoring onlookers.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Hi, mom.”

“Hi baby,” She gushes, letting him squeeze her in a hug. He’s much more gentle with her, out of longing for you, not disrespect.

Nick reaches over to ruffle his hair and your dad nudges you sideways, “Happy to have him back?”

“Yeah,” You gush, a breathless whisper, “Nervous, though,” You admit, “What if he slips in the shower, or something? Or- or some freak accident happens and he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Your dad slings an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close by your shoulders, “He’ll be alright, kid. And hopefully by tomorrow he’ll remember everything, maybe look at some pictures tonight to jog his memory. Show him stuff you took of these past few weeks, the places you went or the food you ate.”

You don’t have any pictures of your pitiful motel room, nor the candy bars you’d raided the minifridge for, but you wouldn’t show them to Bradley if you did.

You nod, breaking away when Bradley searches for you after his hug with Carole, “Thanks, dad.”

“You gonna be okay getting settled tonight, Brad?” Nick asks, already bringing a french fry to his mouth from the bag in his hand. Your dad has your food as well as his own, and you take your bag back from him as Bradley nods.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, guys.”

Everyone says their hasty goodbyes, and your hug with Carole lasts a second longer than you hope anyone notices.

“Tell him.” She whispers against your ear, the words a feather light breath, “He loves you.”

“I’ll feed you in the car,” Bradley grabs the bag of food from your hand when you nudge him towards the exit, “Can I have fries?”

“You’ve been on a diet of chicken and potatoes for two days,” You take the hand that he offers you, curling your fingers around his, “You can have the whole burger if you want, Brad.”

Bradley stops short in front of the bronco when he sees it, “There she is!”

“She’s here,” You laugh, “Perfect condition. The air freshener’s still good.”

“Poor baby,” He heads for the passenger’s seat, swiping a hand over the hood of the car on his way, “She probably thought we forgot about her.”

He settles comfortably in the passenger’s seat, though you’re sure it feels awkward to be there in his own car. He throws his head back against the seat and sighs, long and loud, a noise he would have made fun of his dad for making mere years ago.

“Comfy?” You glance sideways at him, your food in his lap while he rests against the seat. He nods, reaching for the bag as you start up the engine.

“Here baby,” He calls, popping two fries in front of your mouth just before you turn out of the parking lot, “Fries.”

You carefully bite them out of his hand, tipping your head back to get them fully into your mouth. You mumble ‘thanks’ through them, and you’re not sure if he can make out what you’re saying, but you hope it’s obvious.

“I can’t wait to get in bed,” He groans, “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t remember being there for three weeks.”

“It’s cold without you,” You hum forlornly, checking your blind spot before merging, your hands stiff on the wheel. Your words leave more of an aftertaste on your tongue than the fries do, and it’s an unpleasant one. They mean more than you let on, and your brain is clouded thick with the worry of sleeping in a cold bed for the rest of your life. 

There’s a moment of silence that Bradley lets follow your words, then he promises, “I’ll be there tonight. And every night after that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Burger?”

He laughs, leaning in his seat when you turn, “Burger.”

He holds the food up to your mouth, letting you take a bite that smears sauce over your mouth. He takes a napkin, cleaning up after you and dabbing all of the mess away. You’re absolutely certain that if you weren’t on the road, he would have kissed it off. You make a mental note to eat just as messily when you get home, for experimental purposes.

“Can I have a bite?” He asks tentatively, and you turn at a red light to smile and nod.

“‘Course, Brad. I meant it, if you want it you can have the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to go hungry,” He hums, taking a chunk to the left of your bite mark, “Thanks, babe. Fuck, that's good.”

“Did they finish your cookies?” You exit the freeway, muscle memory guiding you home.

Bradley speaks through a mouthful of burger, unpleasant to hear but somehow endearingly domestic, like he’s not worried about looking handsome for you. “Yeah. I got one more, but they mowed through the rest.”

“Those bitches,” You hiss, and he laughs, “Okay, we’ll bake tomorrow. But I’m keeping the vanilla away from you.”

He scoffs, “Always with the vanilla. I drank it one time!”

“One time is enough for a lifetime ban!” You insist, turning onto your street, “Okay, you shower and I’ll eat, then we can get into bed.”

“Sounds good,” He drawls, stuffing your food back into its bag and swapping it to you for the keys, “I’ll be quick in the shower.”

“No rush,” You croon, holding the hand that he offers you as you take on the front walkway together, “Don’t hurt yourself because you’re too eager to get into bed. It’ll be there even if you take your time.”

You’re bound for the kitchen and Bradley the bedroom, but you remember you have to keep the lights off so that he doesn’t see your decorations. You send him off with a kiss at the hallway, intent on watching him leave before setting up at the table.

“Goodbye,” You hum, standing with your lips puckered in the doorway of the hall, “If you need help, just yell for me.”

“Will do,” He nods, puckering his own lips and pressing them to yours with a cartoonish smack! You watch his ginger walk towards the bedroom, his hips off balance as his ribs ache in his chest.

Once you’re in the clear you flick the kitchen light on, choosing to stand at the counter instead of dirty the table. You busy yourself with your phone, tapping on an impatient text from Carole: ‘Have you told him yet?’

Not yet. You write back, munching on a french fry, Not in the car. He didn’t ask, either.

- Don’t lose your nerve, you can almost hear the critical tone of her voice just by reading her message, The longer you lie, the more he’ll worry about you.

I know. I’ll tell him.

- ❤️

“Babe?” You hear Bradley call over the stream of the shower, “Babe!”

You abandon the last few fries in the container, stuffing your phone into your pocket to rush to his aide. Horror flashes through your mind, visions of Bradley bleeding down the drain or hunched over in pain.

All you see when you burst into the bathroom is him looking like a puppy in the rain, a pitiful pout on his face as water runs down his face and through his mustache.

“I can’t wash my hair,” He laments, “It hurts.”

You can’t help but coo, “Oh, baby. Lemme help you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbles, “I already have the shampoo.”

True to his word, there’s shampoo smeared over his hands. Apparently he’d tried his best, but couldn’t move well enough with his broken ribs. You try not to laugh at his misfortune, especially because he’s in pain, but he’s just too cute to ignore. You try to muscle down the thought that this might be the last time you ever shower with Bradley, even if you’re not really in the water with him. You wet your hands, then wipe the shampoo off of his palms, reaching for his scalp.

“I’m sorry I’m making you stand in front of me naked and we’re not having sex,” Bradley huffs, “Believe me, if I thought I could, I’d be jumping you right about now.”

“It’s okay,” You chuckle, muffling the sound into Bradley’s forehead that you kiss chastely, “We should hold off on sex, at least until your ribs are healed.

Or until you know the truth.

“They don’t hurt too bad now,” Bradley muses, “But when I raised my arms to shampoo, it was really bad.”

“I’ll reach for things for you,” You promise, scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. It knocks loose leftover ash from his accident, and it flows down the drain in a swirl of gray bubbles.

“Oh, fuck,” For not having sex, Bradley’s making some awfully pornographic sounds, “That feels good.”

“I’ll bet,” you hum, “Can’t imagine having ash in my hair for that long.”

“It’s not pleasant. Oh god, babe,” He groans, “Hurry up and rinse it out, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.”

“Okay! Okay,” You laugh, scrubbing in one last circle at the nape of his neck then reaching for the showerhead, “Have you washed your body already?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, letting the water flow through his hair and rinse the shampoo out, “Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like.”

“Come on,” You smile, reaching for a towel, “Do you need help drying off?”

“You just wanna feel up my thighs,” Bradley accuses, and you laugh good-naturedly.

“Nope. Ass.” You admit, “But if you can do it yourself, then go ahead.”

“No!” He catches you as you stuff the towel to his chest, pulling you back towards the shower, “Uh, I need help. I think you should wipe down my very toned chest and my tight butt.”

“Oh, really? That’s what you’re having trouble with?” You snicker, and Bradley nods proudly.

“Yep. Can’t get my hands over my shredded back either, such a shame.”

“Alright, you flirt,” You scoff, “Turn around.”

You start on his back, and of course, it’s very fit. It’s nothing you haven’t touched before, in fact, you’re surprised there’s no scars there from your fingernails, but this is more intimate, more romantic, more sweet. This is love, not lust. You scrub the towel over his skin, wiping the water droplets away and rubbing into his tight muscles. You take extra care to dry off the small of his back, smoothing the towel down over his ass, too. Despite his earlier cheekiness, he doesn’t make any comments while you’re working. You wrap the towel around his thighs, pressing a kiss to his hip as you bend down to dry his calves off. He stands still to let you get his ankles dry, and you tap his foot to turn him around.

Now he’s looking down at you as you towel off his calves again, getting any splotches of water you may have missed before. You dry out the soft tuft of hair at his groin and move to his chest before you can tempt yourself, not wanting your first sexual encounter after a life-threatening plane crash to be a blowjob up against the shower wall. Especially not before you tell him the truth.

Now that you’re on your feet you’re face-to-face, though yours is bent slightly to track any water droplets you might have missed on his shoulders. You towel off his underarms carefully, making sure not to aggravate his muscles that are already bleeding pain through his gut. You swipe the towel over his neck, and in doing so, you’ve set your hand just below his chin. It’s as natural as breathing to slide it up his jaw, and he’s already staring at you, breath shaky as you return his gaze.

He moves first, but you take his cue right away. He leans in to kiss you and you’re happy to press your mouth to his own, not caring that there’s a drop of water leftover between his fingers that transfers to your skin when he cups your face.

“Baby,” He whimpers, desperate and longing, “I- I missed you.”

There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and you manage a sad smile when you wipe them away, “Why, silly? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“I know. I just- I’m real shaken up,” He admits, “I- I don’t even remember the crash and that’s the scary part. I almost died and I’ve got no clue what happened. I feel lost, like- like I’m still stalling or something, just waiting to crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” You croon through your own tears, “Brad, that must be so scary, I- I can’t even imagine.”

“I just need you,” He breathes, clutching at your shoulders like they’ll recover his plane, “Just don’t leave, please.”

“Sweetheart,” You coo, equally endeared and saddened by his sudden panic, “We're not at the hospital anymore, there's no visiting hours. Why would I leave? We're home, we’re gonna get changed, and then we’re gonna go to sleep. You’re safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” He nods, voice a mere whisper, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Clothes first,” You remind him through a cheeky grin, and the expression scrunches your tear-stained cheeks, cracking the stiffened substance, “We’re sleeping.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs as you poke at his bare chest, “Will you help me? I managed to bend over and slide my t-shirt off but I don’t think putting something on will be as easy.”

“Mhm. I was hoping,” You reach for the sets of matching pajamas, holding them up enticingly, “You’d match with me?”

He laughs, the sound thick and genuine in his bruised chest, “Of course. I won’t look as good as you, though.”

“Yeah, my mustache is better,” You sigh, scratching a nail over your upper lip that’s morphing into a grin. You whirl on him with his shirt, helping ease his arms into the fabric and stretching the neck hole over his head so that he doesn’t have to bend down. All in all, it works, even if the neckline is a little stretched. He doesn’t need help with his pants, but you feel compelled to do it anyways, sliding his boxers and then the soft material up his legs and tying it tight at the waistband.

“Thanks, honey.” He murmurs, bending at the waist and sitting on his side of the bed, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Lay down,” You push against his chest, helping him recline against his pillows, “I’ll be right back, B.”

You change quickly, too eager to crawl into bed beside Bradley to care that you’ve left one bite of burger and a few lone fries on the counter. Ants be damned, you’ll clean up tomorrow. When you emerge from the closet you wriggle happily beneath the covers next to Bradley, flicking the light by the doorway off so that all that’s left is your bedside lamp.

When you settle on your pillow he’s already looking at you, and the tip of his nose bumps your own. You melt into a girlish giggle, something that a teenager would produce after a particularly bad pickup line and a single red rose.

“Hi,” You gush, overjoyed to have him so close again. You kiss his nose in your fervent enthusiasm, and he smiles sleepily against his pillow.

“Hi,” He hums, reaching for your waist and pulling you close, “C’mere.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” You stiffen, but he molds your body to his anyways, “Brad, be careful.”

“I will be! I said it before, you can’t break me. Just let me hold you.”

You croon a sad sound as he wraps you in his arms, a sound of longing, of adoration, of grief. He clocks it as sweetness, though, and holds you close. Your face is buried in his chest and you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks.

“Y/N,” He starts, and your heart rate spikes at just your name, “About earlier-”

“Tomorrow.” You blurt, anguish rising in your chest, “Brad, can we- can we talk tomorrow? I’m not trying to hide from you,” You promise, but you’re nestled into his chest and muffling your voice, “I trust you with the way that I'm feeling, I just- I just want to sleep. I want to breathe for a minute. And we can talk tomorrow, is that okay?”

He takes a moment to deliberate, really, truly thinking about it. While he does so, your hands tighten in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. But eventually he nods, disjointedly so into the crown of your head, “Okay.” His hands tighten around your waist as he speaks, and you melt into his embrace, scooting impossibly closer. “Okay, honey, we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just sleep.”

Settling into his embrace has never been so easy. Since the moment you'd been in them for the first time only hours old in the hospital, you’d known his arms were made for holding you. They’ve been yours for as long as you can remember, even longer than that according to the photo album you’d skimmed through earlier. Bradley had been the third person to hold you, second only to your parents. Sure, he couldn’t remember it either, and Nick and Carole were probably doing most of the work keeping you balanced in his little lap, but the point is, he was made for holding you, and you were made for being held by him. Your face tucks so naturally under the curve of his chin and your lips press even easier to his throat, kissing at his voice that you love so much. It comes out to thank you for the adoration in a gentle hum, one that thrums against your lips. 

His hands revel in their access to the extent of your back, brushing and roving and stroking over every inch of the space he’s granted. It’s ticklish but you don’t dare squirm, letting his fingers send miniscule bolts of electricity through your skin.

“I love you,” He reminds you as he holds you close, the sleepiness fogging his brain clear as day in his voice, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You promise, kissing up his chin to his lips. The pecks you plant there are short, sweet, and chaste, but when you’re done laying them over his face you decide that you want to fall asleep facing him, not hidden away in his chest. Sure, it’s warm and safe there, but you can’t drift off to his sweet face if you can’t see it.

Your solution is to plop your head back onto your pillow, throwing a leg over his waist to keep yourself close. His eyes are droopy, and hold all of the tender sweetness of the puppies he so often resembles. He’s clearly exhausted, and your own eyes slip shut at the sight of his struggling to stay open.

“Night, Brad.” You yawn, settling against your pillow with the tip of your nose brushing his own, “Welcome home.”

“Night, baby. Love you,” He gushes, as if you hadn’t just exchanged the words seconds prior. But it feels good, it feels right, so you say it back.

“Love you, too.” You use the last of your energy to reciprocate, sleep taking hold of you in its comforting embrace. You slip away like sand into unconsciousness, all of your thoughts about love, and life, and Bradley, and none of the horrific possibility of his memories returning. Nothing’s going to ruin this moment for you, not now.

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