#i KNow it's out of touch thursday but today is tuesday

[endurae]

something something out of touch Tuesday

[papercorgiworld]

I don't need space, I need you

Mattheo and Theodore fluff

Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!

Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!

A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛

Mattheo

“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.

Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?

***

“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:

A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test. 

When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.

Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it. 

Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.

Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.

So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.

This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.

“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before. 

Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.” 

You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.

Theodore

“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head. 

***

You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance. 

Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day. 

The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.

Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!” 

As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.

For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji

[ellemj]

It Was Sunday

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: 18+, light smut

Song: never be like you (sped up) by Flume

Warnings: profanity, brief mentions of unprotected sex, brief mention of oral (female receiving), casual sex, slight brief somnophilia, kinda fluff (I know, who do I think I am), MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 855

A/N: I don't really know what this is but it was on my mind today. Super different from my usual shit. Do me a favor and don't read it without listening to this song at the same time: never be like you (sped up version) by Flume. I feel like it would fall very flat without music behind it.

            It was Monday when you wore that little black dress with the slit up your right thigh. That was the day you took down three men with ease while looking like a fucking goddess. It wasn’t just Bucky staring, it was every man on the surveillance team, every man in the club, both the guilty and the innocent bystanders. They weren’t transfixed on the violence unfolding in the center of the room, no. They were transfixed on the fatal, yet beautiful creation that was you.

            It was Monday night that Bucky told you how reckless you were, how close you came to taking on more than you could handle. Then, he gave you something he knew you could handle, right up against your bedroom door.

            It was Tuesday when he found you sparring with a trainer, flirting between lightly thrown punches and half-assed kicks. He focused on counting his reps with the weights rather than counting the number of times he imagined throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you upstairs to remind you who you belong to.

            It was Tuesday night when he counted the number of breathless moans and whimpers that fell from your lips every time he thrusted into you.

            It was Wednesday when you ran headfirst into danger to save someone out in the field. That was the day Bucky thought he’d lost you, and the all-consuming fear he felt seeing you disappear into that burning building made him wonder if he’d somehow fallen for you.

            It was Wednesday night when he stopped by your room to make sure you were okay and then, he scolded you for risking your life like you did. That night, he fucked you so thoroughly that you swore you could still feel him the next morning.

            It was Thursday when Bucky told himself he needed to distance from you, just in case he was really catching feelings. He didn’t see you the entire day and it left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was eating him alive as he sped down the interstate on his bike, trying to replace the high he gets from you with the high of an adrenaline rush.

            It was Thursday night when you knocked on his door for a change. He’d avoided you all day and you’d had enough, so you pushed your way into his room as soon as he opened the door. You didn’t question him, maybe because deep down you knew why he was avoiding you. Instead, you kissed him with so much fiery passion that you wouldn’t have been surprised to see his bedsheets go up in flames around the two of you. You put your all into riding his cock that night.

            It was Friday when Bucky went out on a solo mission, meant to be playing the part of the famed Winter Soldier. It was late that evening that he returned to the compound with more cuts and bruises than you’d ever seen on him.

            It was Friday night that you forced him to sit on the side of your bed while you cleaned him up, carefully dabbing saline-soaked gauze over each wound with the gentlest of touches. Bucky took your orders in silence, pulling his shirt off when you demanded him to, tilting his chin up so you could get a look at the abrasions on his neck. He did whatever you said because it had been so long since he’d had someone care for him like that. That night, he laid in your bed as you pressed your lips to every already-healing bruise littered across his skin.

            It was Saturday morning when you found yourself tangled up in the arms of the man you’d been casually sleeping with. That was the first day you felt butterflies dancing around in your stomach at the sensation of his warm body pressed so tightly against yours beneath the sheets.

            It was Saturday night when you tried to tell yourself that you could go one night without him. You made plans with friends, stayed out late, and had just enough alcohol to get him out of your mind for a while. When you sauntered up to your bedroom a little past tipsy, your inebriated mind decided to knock on his door instead of unlocking your own. Bucky gave you an amused smirk as he pulled you into his room and helped you change into one of his t-shirts. You slept in his bed that night, wrapped up in his arms, in his sheets, wearing his shirt.

            It was Sunday when you woke up on your back, with a skilled and familiar tongue working against your clit. As your fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair and your back arched off of his bed, he imagined how different it might feel if one of your fingers had a ring on it.

            It was Sunday when you both realized you’d fallen. You’d fallen far beyond the reach of any rescue, of any chance at getting back to where you started. Somewhere between Monday and Sunday, you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, and he with you.

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @kentokaze @nyashonality

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Grad school Spencer in his little white coat and glasses getting his chem PhD and he just spills everything and goes 🫠 because he sees English lit major reader walking by from the lap window.

because I will die on the hill that this actually happened.

hiiiii 💕

like 23 year old phd candidate spencer in his white lab coat is everything to me and i took some liberties so bear with me :)

spencer reid x female reader

So he’s working in his lab doing something sciencey and smart

He’s already a phd in math and engineering which makes him something a myth in his departments

Part of his program makes him work as a TA for a chemistry course which is how he meets you

You’re a Literature major and Sociology minor and in his Chemistry class. It’s filled with many students, but Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to remember you

He never found the courage to talk to you, thinking that you’ve probably already have a boyfriend on a count for how pretty and smart you are.

Every Tuesday and Thursday he sees you walk by his lab. He forces himself to not recognize the pattern, but it’s impossible when you’re so magnetic to look at and think about and patterns are so recognizable to his brain. And out of risk of you thinking he’s a stalker, he decides it’s safer if he ignores you walk by

What Spencer doesn’t realize is that you’ve also noticed his pattern of being in the lab the same days you’re in the Sociology wing.

One day he’s busy his lab, and he can see you through the big picture window. He feels his hands grip the beaker and his grateful that the chemical liquids he’s working with today are something as simple as water

As he gazes through the big window he watches you walk with a big stack books in you arms

He walks to the sink, needing an extra 30mLs of water in his beaker, but as his does he accidentally trips over a stool and crashes to the floor

He jumps up, and sees you look at him in horror. Which wasn’t the way he planned on you looking at him (he forced the thoughts of the various ways you could look at him from his mind)

Suddenly you rush into the lab and just as Spencer tries to stammer about maintaining proper hygiene protocols in the lab, your hands are gripping his wrist

“You’re bleeding” you say, and Spencer watches as you maintain steady, tight pressure on his open wound to stop the bleeding

“I didn’t realize” Spencer says with a stained smile. He’s planned on how he’d approach you over and over again in his mind ever since he saw you in the Chemistry class he TA’ed last semester “I was preoccupied”

“It’s alright, Doctor Reid. You’re not going to need stitches or anything. But let me put some bandaging on it.”

Spencer gulps, as he tries to remember how to breathe. All he can focus on is how your hair frames your face perfectly and how your perfume smells like earl grey tea and honey and apples

“You can call me Spencer, Y/N” He whispers, listening to as you practically drag him by the wrist to the first aid kit

“You know my name?” You ask, a look or wonder and amusement washes over your face

Spencer jerks his head back not in pain nor in discomfort, but rather in confusion. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I know your name. You’re Y/N.”

You lick your bottom lip as a small smile plays on the corner of your mouth. “there were a lot of students in your class last semester. I’m not very good at chemistry. Nor do I have a particularly memorable face.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows in disbelief. You gently placed a bandage on his cut. “You did very well in the class. And as for your face, it’s very memorable. More than memorable, honestly. It’s gorgeous—oh, no I didn’t—I don’t intend to be forward…”

“I think you got a memorable face too, Doc” You say, smiling as you sit knee to knee on the lab stools

“It’s Spencer,” He says, blushing as he nudged his hand forward to just barely touch yours

You stand, smiling as you do so, “Doc suits you. You’re kinda a legend and you’re really cute when you flush like that when I call you Doc”

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 3

Happy New Year to all those that celebrate on Jan 1st! I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted during my break because my son brought home the flu and I've been sick for most of the winter break.

That said, I still have a backlog of at least a dozen chapters spread out among my WIPs.

I will still be posting Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursday just nothing will have a set day. Meaning you might get this story on a Tuesday one week, and Thursday the next. So on and so forth.

In this chapter I get heavily into gender dynamics and how sexuality would work with second genders.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve slid into bed with a sigh of relief. His scent permeated the bedding sending out a calming signal to both him and the alpha. He wrapped himself around the alpha and felt as he began to come out of the tranquilizer.

Dillon hummed happily. “You smell good.”

Steve chirped in response, rubbing his nose on Dillon’s scent gland. Again he sighed in relief. The actor’s scent was coming through. Weakly, but it was there. It was a dark woody scent. Like a forest after the rain.

“I’m going to take care of you, alpha,” Steve purred. “Make you feel so good.”

Dillon pounced on him and he laughed. “So eager. Take it slow, you’ve got plenty of time, sweetie.”

Steve ran his fingers up and down Dillon’s spine, causing the man to arch into his touch.

“Does that feel good?”

Dillon nodded, biting his lip.

“You don’t have to keep quiet, alpha,” Steve murmured. “No one is here to hear you but me.”

Dillon hung his head. “You don’t mind if make noise?”

Steve kissed his nose. “Did they make you keep quiet when they forced you to have sex with other alphas?”

He nodded, tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said. “You’re safe here. No one knows this address outside of Starcourt Services.”

Dillon closed his eyes and let Steve take care of him.

Over the course of the next three days, Steve found out that Dillon’s guilty pleasure was fruit leather. Not the overly processed kids stuff, but the locally sourced fruit snacks.

Steve practically cheered. It wasn’t protein bars, but it was something. He also found that Dillon would drink the shakes if Steve gave them to him, but wouldn’t chose them on his own.

By the time Dillon’s rut was over, Steve had really gotten to know him and was a little sad to see him go.

He wasn’t even told where Dillon would be going, but he knew it was for the best.

Steve showered and was dressed before Robin came back.

“Thankfully his rut didn’t last too long,” she said pulling up his schedule on his tablet, “you’ll have two days to do whatever before the charity ball for the New Yorker.”

Steve sighed in relief. “Thank god for that. First ruts are so hard.”

Robin nodded. “And it’s so rare for Starcourt to do them at all with the whole legality of it usually being alpha usually being fourteen to seventeen years old when they get their first.”

Steve sighed. “That too.”

Robin got a notification on her phone. When she checked it, she laughed.

“I just got something to absolutely make your day,” she said with a giggle.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Tommy’s last rut servicing hit him with a mini-heat. He’s out of the game for the gala.”

Steve winced in sympathy. “Better him than me.”

Robin laughed again. “That’s why you have me, babe. If the alpha has a history of blocker breaking, they have to do a lot to convince me to let you service them. Starcourt has a perfect record of whisking away omegas that have gone into a heat as a side effect of the servicing, but I’m not willing to take that chance with you.”

“And that’s why all the other omegas are jealous you’re my handler,” Steve grinned.

“Damn straight.”

They high-fived.

“So what are your plans for today?” Robin asked, putting away her phone.

“Pedro is coming in today for a final fitting for the tux,” he told her and she added it to his schedule.

“I’ll find out the exact time and get back to you,” she said.

“Then I’m having dinner with Max and Lucas,” Steve continued. “They just got into town this morning and wanted to meet up while they had time.”

“How goes Lucas’s law suit?” Robin asked, adding it to the schedule.

“They think it’s about to burst the NBA wide open,” Steve said with a devilish grin.

She grinned back. “It’s absolutely ridiculous to have six different sports leagues.”

Steve nodded. “Even the division between beta teams is dumb. But they’re working on one problem at a time. Get it down to two and then work on destroying first gender bullshittery.”

Robin nodded. “It’s especially stupid because that’s how it is handled in high school. If schools can handle the raging hormones of presenting athletes then professional teams can handle level headed adults on scent suppressants.”

Steve nodded back. “That’s their argument.”

“Good luck to them.”

“And then I plan on doing some shopping,” Steve finished. “Dillon’s rut depleted my stock more than I would have liked.”

Robin winched. “Well, at least your next servicing isn’t until the end of next week.”

He nodded again. “I’ve been messaging the alpha couple, they seem sweet.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I am so grateful to be a lesbian to first and secondary genders.”

“There are so many sexualities these days it can make one’s head spin,” he lamented. “Are you an alpha that likes alphas but only alphas of the opposite sex and does that make you straight or gay?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I simplified it to ‘no dicks’, but I know it’s more nuanced than that for a lot of people.”

Steve scoffed. “Like me?” he huffed, flopping on the sofa and crossing his arms. “Bisexual first gender, but I’ve never been attracted to other omegas, so straight secondary gender. And there are a lot of people that would say I’m not queer because I prefer alphas.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “And I swear it’s getting worse with non-binary and trans people added to the mix, too. And of course the rest of the queer community is thinking they’re safe from the hoopla, when we all know these ass clowns won’t be happy until they’re back to one man and one woman betas.”

“Which has never been a thing,” Steve grumbled. “It’s ridiculous.”

She tapped her tablet. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. “Just when Pedro is coming and my day is set.”

She shot off a quick text and got an immediate response. “He says at eleven. Is that okay?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be fine. Gives me time to shop before dinner.”

“Done and dusted,” she said, putting away her phone and tablet. “We still on for platonic soulmate day tomorrow?”

He grinned up at her. “Always. We’re going to binge movies and eat junk food and lament about our love lives all day.”

“I’ll bring over some wine coolers and stuff to make cocktails,” she said.

He hopped up and gave her kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Have fun with Max and Lucas,” Robin said. “Give them my love.”

“Will do.”

*

Max looked around the fancy restaurant in awe. “I can’t believe you can just walk into a place like this and you instantly get a table.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “It’s not that easy. They had a cancellation and was able to get us in.”

“I bet they canceled the other reservation to give it to you,” Lucas said.

“Ooh...” Max said. “I bet they did, too. Steve Harrington, omega escort to the stars wants a dinner reservation at our restaurant, lets boot some D-list actor so we can have him instead.”

Steve laughed again. “Really, guys. It’s not like that. I’m not some Lonnie Hansen or Roxie, I’m barely a middle of the road escort as far as how much money I make.”

Max and Lucas shared a glance before they broke out laughing.

“Guys!” Steve protested. “I’m serious. There are other escorts that make way more than me.”

Max raised her eyebrow. “Name five other than Lonnie and Roxie.”

Steve counted them out on his fingers. “There’s Nicole Jawara. Koo Sing Ma. Mirabel Diaz. Uh...” He tapped his third finger. “Um...”

“Admit it,” Lucas said. “You can’t think of any more. And the ones you have named? They’ve all been in the business for longer than you and have had time to be higher paid. You rose through the ranks like a shooting star and everyone knows it.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, okay. I love doing what I do, though.”

“Which is why we’re fighting the NBA about Lucas’s secondary gender. He should be allowed to play in the national league regardless whether he’s an omega or not,” Max said. “As an alpha I can do whatever the hell I want and only mildly looked down on because I’m a woman. But being a male omega makes it hard to do anything outside nurturing jobs.”

“Which I’ve never got,” Steve growled. “They don’t force female omegas into those jobs, just male ones.”

Lucas sighed. “Add to it being black and I’ve been fighting an uphill battle my whole life.”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “Tell me what else is up with you two. Any chance of bonding on the horizon.”

Max scoffed. “As if. We want to get this suit over with first. Then we’ll talk.”

“What about you?” Lucas asked. “Surely there have been alphas that have offered to buy your contract. You could settle down with one. Adopt pups.”

Steve ducked his head. “I’ve had offers. But as...” he huffed trying to find the right word. “Concubines? Sex toys for when their mates are pregnant or nursing. Not actual relationships.”

Max snorted. “I bet Nancy Wheeler tried.”

“Twice,” Steve agreed. “The only thing that would lure me from my job is falling in love with an alpha. And the chances of that happening are slim to none right now.”

Lucas sighed. “It’s because anyone you do meet is just going to want sex, huh?”

Steve nodded. “It’s really frustrating. But that’s why most of my friends are from before I became an escort. It’s just too hard to trust someone now a days. People wanting to be friends only want it for the perks,” he waved around him, “and not because they actually like me. People who want a ‘romantic’ relationship are one of three categories: only in for the sex. Only in for the sex and all the perks that come with being me. Or they want to shame and control me.”

Max and Lucas share a glance and have the decency to look mildly chastised. Because, yeah they used the perks of Steve’s job on more than one occasion.

Steve sighed. “So have you guys seen the latest superhero movie?” he asked, eager to move on.

Max and Lucas took it as the life line it was and starting chatting about what movies they’ve seen.

*

Steve loved his days were it was just him and Robin sans Starcourt business. Where they could just be two lovable goofballs and talk about their love life.

“Vickie is an omega, Steve,” she whined, ripping into her gallon sized bucket of Red Vines. “She’s not going to want to be with someone who can’t help her during her heats.”

Steve scoffed. “I’ve never had an alpha service my heats, and I’m fine. If she cares about you, she’ll use toys and heat aids. And don’t discount the pleasure of your fingers, babe.”

Robin made a gagging sound. “Don’t talk to me about sex, dingus. I don’t think I can handle it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s literally my job, Robs. Like you can blow me off all you want, but you know you’re not going to get better advice from someone outside the medical field.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” she sighed.

“So you’ll ask her out this weekend?” Steve pressed.

“Yes, Steve,” Robin said, rolling her eyes “while you’re out there looking gorgeous on the arm of Nancy Wheeler, schmoozing it up with the rich people, I will be putting my heart on the line to ask a really cute girl out on a date.”

He kissed her cheek and stayed in her space. “And then when she says yes and you two are making out on her sofa, spare a thought for your poor single platonic soulmate who was soooo right.”

Robin pushed him away from her. “God, you are such an ass.”

“Yes, but it has been praised by many an alpha,” he teased, “so I love flaunting it.”

Robin threw her Red Vine at him.

He took a huge bite out of it and then grimaced. “I don’t’ know how you can stand eating these things. I think they taste like soap.”

“Just because your tastebuds are out of wack,” Robin said, snatching it away from him and munching on it, “doesn’t mean the rest of us should be forced to eat those tasteless sticks called Twizzlers.”

Steve pouted. “But I like the chocolate ones.”

“Further proof of your lack of taste, dingus,” she said. “It just means that this,” she held up her bucket, “is all mine.”

He just shook his head and grabbed the remote. “It’s a vampire romance, you ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

The Red Vine vs Twizzler debate was something that me and my best friend argued for years. And yes there was a period of time when Red Vines tasted like soap. They don't anymore, thankfully. But they did.

The TV show they are watching is "The Scholar That Walks By Night" a Korean drama my sister is obsessed with.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @slowandsteddie @mangoinacan13

[37-drc89]

painting with h. hyunjin

This week really did you and your boyfriend dirty. Everyday you would come home yawning, shoulders slump, complaining about how much you dream of getting into the bed. You find Hyunjin at your shared apartment, already grumpy, most likely splashed on the couch looking absolutely dead. You would just lay down on his back, nuzzling face into his hair. The drama king he is, Hyunjin would whine in fake pain, throwing you off of him, just to grab your tired body and lock it tightly in between his arms. Usually you fell asleep like this, having to rush yourself the morning after to take a shower and do everything people normally do after work. Monday, tuesday, wednesday and thursday, they all looked like this, they all felt like world just chew you up and spit you out on the ground for no reason.

But today's friday. The only thing keeping you alive at work was thought of weekend starting, knowing that your boyfriend stays home with you for these two days and you can have him all to yourself. Maybe that's why you got just slightly disappointed when you found him sitting in front of a blank canva with all his painting set already on the table. Of course, you absolutely adored Hyunjin's artwork and watching him focused on his hobby was your favorite thing to look at, ever. You once spent four hours just admiring his relaxed face, eyes wandering around the canva and brushes making soft, comforting sounds swiping on it. Obviously, Hyunjin wouldn't be himself if he didn't complain about it, trying to move your face the other way or throwing random shirt at your head so you don't stare at him so deeply, but the truth is, he liked the attention. He would always pretend it annoys him, but he wouldn't change it for the world. However, today it's you who needs his attention. The whole day you've been thinking about being in his warm embrace and watching some scary movies or comedies. But you know Hyunjin values his private space, especially when he's creating things. You couldn't help but frown, only patting his shoulder softly as a greeting, not to interrupt him. You go to your shared bedroom and slump yourself on the bed, sighing into the pillow. You play some podcast and let yourself sink into the softness of the covers. Not even half an hour passed when you started tossing and turning in desperate need of your boyfriend's presence. You quietly make your way to the livingroom, the only sound coming from it is Hyunjin's calm playlist playing from the phone. His eyes don't catch you standing in the door frame, too focused on his progressing artwork.

"Hyune," you mumble something barely above the whisper, taking small steps towards his sitting figure. You start playing with the ends of his hair, scared that any more physical touch might distract him at the moment.

"Hm?" his attention immediately goes to you and your heart melts a little. He once told you, you're the only one he would ever pause working for, and that's true, he could never ignore you.

"Can I stay here with you for a second? I miss you," your arms carefully wrap themselves around his shoulders and your chin rests on top of his head. Hyunjin leans into your touch slightly, short chuckle leaving his mouth.

"Do you want to try painting with me, buttercup?" he asks looking up at you and your eyes go wider, taken aback by his offer.

"I can? Won't I disturb you?" in response he just grabs your hands and guide you in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. His chin finds its place on your right shoulder and he takes your hand, forcing a brush in between your fingers. Hyunjin guides your hand to the canva and you try to stop it with your own strength. Before you can manage to say "I'll ruin it", or "I don't want to force you to anything" he just grabs your head with his other hand and turns it, pressing his soft lips onto yours, succesfully shushing you. You melt into the kiss instantly, finally getting your desired attention. "Shut up," is the only thing he says after pulling away, sending you the warmest smile you've ever seen and you feel like every worry bothering you since last week washes away. So you let him guide your hand as he pleases, after some time letting it go, grabbing his own brush and painting along with you, making your shared masterpiece. He helps you with every unfortunate stain of paint or wrongly mixed colors, laughing it off, nothing but love burning in his eyes when your face gets flustered or angry at your mistakes. Hyunjin praises your part a lot, paying his attention into the smallest details, clearly impressed by the amount of effort you put into the painting.

After all, it's now hung above your shared bed, exposed like a masterpiece it is, for everyone to see. And Hyunjin has never been more proud of any of his artworks, no matter how good they looked. Because this one he created with you, with the love of his life.

masterlist

[yandere-paramour]

First Time with Vivien - Part 1

When you first tell Vivien that you think you're ready to be intimate with him, he's already unbuckling his pants. He thinks you mean RIGHT NOW and he's a little disappointed when you tell him that you meant like, this weekend.

A little embarrassed, he pulls his pants back up and he's like "Oh."

But late that night, after you've left for your own apartment and he's emptied himself twice thinking about you, he gets to thinking. It's actually a good thing that you both didn't rush into anything today.

It's Tuesday night, and you're coming over Friday. He has three full days to prepare. He only has three days to prepare.

In between work, sleep, and stalking you, Vivien searches through every Reddit post, every internet forum, every advice column he can to try and get a wide range of information. Most of it is useless and he disregards it, but some of it is very useful.

The first thing he does is head straight to the store to buy new, soft sheets. His usual sheets are covered in... stains, and it would be embarrassing for you, his angel, to see that.

He didn't know this, but Patchouli can be used as an aphrodisiac. He makes a special blend of essential oils just for this occasion. If he sets up the diffuser right, he'll be able to help you relax and ease into everything.

Thursday night and Friday morning, he's too excited to sleep, so he gets to work making a platter of snacks for the both of you to share. He wants you both to be full, but not so full that it makes you both sleepy and knocks you out of the mood, so he guesses an aphrodisiac girl-dinner would work best.

He pairs slices of fresh baguette with some honey cinnamon butter, bakes heart-shaped brownies sprinkled with powdered sugar, and chills strawberry and banana slices with a white chocolate drizzle. He takes a little bit of money from his savings and splurges on a nice bottle of red wine for the both of you. For the finishing touch, he bakes brie with herbs and honey, setting it right in the middle of the charcuterie board.

With another thought, he adds some pineapple on there as well.

He looks around. The room is softly lit and quiet, smelling pleasantly of patchouli and lavender. The food is ready and waiting. The only thing left to prepare is himself.

He scrubs himself in the shower, wanting to make sure he is extra clean for you. He also takes the initiative to brush his hair and try and make sure the unruly strands stay flat.

When he answers the door, he is struck by how lovely you look. You both eat while you watch a romantic movie, and Vivien is fear-sweating. He looks at you whenever there is a sex scene, but looks away when you look at him. But throughout this, he pulls you closer and closer to him, his hand inching up your skirt.

When he kisses you, he can taste the sweets he made, and another perfect flavor that is uniquely you. Despite his extroverted personality, he feels meek and nervous today. He asks if you are ready, and when you say yes, he leads you gently to the bedroom.

Once you both are in and the door is locked, Vivien's anxiety disappears and he becomes someone different. He finally has you, willing and wet and ready in his bedroom. He will not waste this opportunity. He is on you in seconds, kissing, sucking, biting, desperate to leave marks on you, to prove to the universe that he is alive and you are his.

Your clothes litter the floor, all the care he put into this evening thrown to the wind as he lays you gently on the soft blue sheets. He caresses his way down your body, whispering about how you're so beautiful and so good to him and that he's waited for this moment for so long and he finally has you right where you belong, spread wide for him to ravish you.

He takes you into his mouth, licking and sucking like a man starved. For a man so well-versed in herbs and flowers, understanding the intricate ways smells and flavors fit together, there is nothing he can compare to the taste that is you. His tongue is moderately long, but it is strong and skilled, teasing moans out of you until you are gripping the sheets in two tight fists. He hums as he devours you, the vibrations giving another level of stimulation to the coitus.

This part is about your pleasure, but that does not mean he neglects himself. He is kneeling on the floor, tongue and left hand focused on you, but his right hand is busy, wrapped around his cock. He desperately ruts into his hand, pumping himself. Watching you like this; it is better than any fantasy, any daydream, any wet dream his imagination can come up with, and he is close to spilling over right now, just from the divine pleasure of tasting you. But he is desperately trying to hold himself back for the main event.

His tasting and sucking are no match for you, and you explode into fireworks, the triumphant feeling rolling your eyes back into their sockets and curling your toes at the same time. Vivien doesn't overstimulate you, not this first time. He pulls back, your juices smeared around his face as he gives the biggest smile you've ever seen on him. He thanks you over and over again for the opportunity to take care of you, telling you how gorgeous, how ethereal, how reverent he feels about you.

Moving up beside you, he pulls you onto his chest. His cock twitches, desperately seeking the rampant stimulation it lost, but he tucks it between his legs. He needs to care for you before anything. He holds a bottle of water to your lips, asking if you are okay and did you enjoy it and do you need anything from him.

You assure him you are happy. Very, very happy in fact, and you want to move onto the real thing: the penetration. Vivien blushes immediately, wanting to mount you right then and there, but he asks again if you're sure. No matter how good it will feel or how pleasured he will be, he will not do this unless you are sure.

[userholland]

snowed in hell

you didn't think a weekend with your boss could get worse... actually, it does once you're snowed in with him and away from home. you thought he was the worse, but there is something beneath his cold exterior that's very passionate and romantic and you're curious if you can explore that.

PAIRING: ceo!tom holland x assistant/secretary!reader

GENRE: smut 18+ minors dni!, pwp, enemies to lovers (?), secret crushes, lots and lots of longing and pining, dom!tom + dom!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k [the longest one so far lol]

A/N: merry christmas eve/happy holidays! sexy present here lmao. i haven't written smut in a while so apologies in advance but i thought id just throw one in there. honestly may post more on my smut sideblog now that i have a bit more time to write! let me know if this series has been great for you guys :D

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

"A weekend away didn't seem like a bad idea"... is what you should be thinking. The winter wonderland that was this beautiful snowfall was all nice and cheery until you're going with your boss for one of his many conferences before the holiday season can start.

Now, Tom Holland wasn't bad looking, but once his egotistical comments spouted out of his mouth, you were able to snap back into reality. Not only could he sound like the most out-of-touch guy, but he flaunted how successful he was on-top of his looks.

So when he invited you－ no, expect you－ to come to this conference, it was a bit of a disappointment when you thought that it would be your one weekend of not doing anything that revolved around him. Now it was all about him... as per usual.

Carefully driving to the five-star hotel, all he did was talk about his own expectations and try to figure out what to say at the big dinner they were holding before tomorrow's conference. All you could do was make mental notes since you were driving and he was checking himself in the mirror in the backseat.

Luckily, you had adjoined rooms so there was some separation between your lives these next two days. While he was working in his room, you hoped to go on the slopes and enjoy breakfast on the nice outside deck while reading a book. Maybe even meet someone like in some cheesy romance movie.

"No, no, we have the charity ball on the 5th. The opening of the library the week after." Tom sighed, "Yes, yes, darling, I'm aware of that, but we can move all those dates... Trust me, I know Mr. Morales isn't with his wife on Tuesdays and Thursdays..." He continued, his left eyebrow arched.

You could roll your eyes, but all you did was take a deep breath.

"Well, I checked in the mirror and I can say that today is gonna be a great day." He smirked.

Oh, God. You needed this thirty remaining minutes to turn into thirty seconds.

"Y/N, slow down a bit. We're in no rush." Tom signaled his hand, looking through the front windshield.

"Yes, sir." You grinned, fixing your posture as you eased your foot off the gas pedal.

♡ ♡ ♡

You're relieved once you're checked into your room, knowing there was one wall between you and Tom. When you lay on your bed, basically hoping into the soft mattress, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

After a few minutes of hearing Tom's muffled voice through the wall, it was silent. You fix your skirt and button up before knocking on the door until Tom said you could come in.

When you step in, you see Tom standing in front of the full-body mirror by the window. As much as you wanted to complain, he did look good in a dark suit. You saw him adjust his sleeves under his jacket, but his tie was crooked.

"Here, I let me fix your tie." You trailed as you walked over.

You leaned into your heels, pulling the tie a bit down before pulling it perfectly where the top button of his shirt was. His brown eyes glossed over as he watched you, admiring how the orange light from the sunset laying against your face.

When you lifted your head, you saw his eyes, but you two could just produce awkward laughs. When you were hired, all your friends envied that you worked for someone as handsome and suave as Tom, and so were you. It was his huge ego that got in the way. Then, there were moments like this where that small crush bloomed back up.

Tom couldn't disagree that there weren't some feelings in the beginning as well. Workplace relationships were frowned upon, and already keeping his father's company afloat, there was no need to try to impress you. He would rather fight off those feelings then see where it goes.

"Thank you, Y/N." He said before clearing his throat.

"Of course, sir." You grinned.

"You don't have to always call me that. It's Tom, darling."

"I know." You quickly said, but you felt heat on your cheeks.

"Well, we need to get down there." He quickly gathered himself before the two of you left your rooms.

When you entered the elevator, it was just the two of you. There wasn't much said but it stopped on the floor below, a few people filed in and you felt Tom place his hand on your lower back as you took a few steps back.

You leaned next to him, placing your hand on his chest. Tom's heart hadn't beat so fast in a while, but in that moment, he thought everyone in the small space could hear it.

"Sorry, sir." You said, pulling your hand back and then tucking your hair behind your ear.

"You don't have to apologize, darling."

Your eyes fixated longer on him before the doors opened, and he walked out with the others.

Quickly, you followed him before he was practically mobbed by his peers, asking all these questions and statements while you stood behind his back. A few times he'd look over his shoulder to make sure you were close, and you would show him a small smile.

Time got away as he loved to talk business before timidly tapped his shoulder and he turned his attention toward you.

"Sir, the conference starts in five minutes."

He chuckled, "Oh, I have to go but nice seeing you guys. Let's catch up this weekend." Tom smiled at the few men.

As the two of you walked away, Tom's smile fell and his hands played with the first button of his suit jacket.

"What happened?" You asked, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Just because I have the money to finance their plans doesn't mean I can. I'm not..." He trailed, "Well, I'm not some dream maker. Let's put it at that."

"Sorry about that, sir." You cleared your throat.

"Remember what we spoke about?" He asked, turning to you.

"Tom... I meant Tom." You trailed, giving a half-smile.

He actually smiled back, something you rarely saw but the two of you continued to the hall, taking your seats before a long meeting.

♡ ♡ ♡

After an hour and a half, you and Tom went to the bar as per his request. Instead of sitting at the stools, you were sat at a table and you weren't use to spending a dinner with him. When the waiter came by, you were going to order for the two of you until Tom spoke first.

"One glass of scotch neat and a gin and tonic, light on the tonic." He said, impressing you.

"You remembered?" You asked, sounding like an old friend.

"Of course. It's not always your job to do that." He grinned.

Once you got your drinks, you cheers to the night and a successful start to the weekend. You almost wanted to toast to Tom not getting on your last nerve, but a man came by with 'manager' written under his name on his tag.

"Excuse me, but we just wanted to tell you that there is a harsh snowstorm right now. There may be some bad cell service and the roads are completely covered so, I would advise you not to go out tonight if you were planning to leave."

"Thank you for telling us." Tom nodded.

"We can send anything complimentary to your room if needed, Mr. Holland." He reassured him before leaving.

"Wow, so you're not new around here." You joked a bit and wondered if it was okay.

"Yeah, I've come here a few times. With my dad before I took over the business. Anything you need, on me."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink, and then the rest of the hour was getting to know one another. He got to know you better than when you were first interviewed, but now that he was relaxed, Tom got to know you better than the side he aggressively showed in the office.

He had been meaning to sit down with you for a long time, wondering if there was any chance he would, but he thought about his reputation too much. He knew it could be a mood-killer sometimes, but there was a lot to hold yet being with you right there made him forget all of that.

There was an unspoken tension at the table and neither of you two wanted to address it... but there was still enough time in the weekend.

♡ ♡ ♡

That night, you weren't sure how to feel. You wondered if there was actually anything you felt romantically toward Tom. You paced the room a few times and ended up staring into the night sky through your deck.

Once you tried to focus on the silence of the room, you could hear the muffled TV noises coming through the wall that shared your rooms. You took a few deep breaths as you approach the door, talking yourself through this in your head.

You knocked, "May I come in?"

"Yeah!" Tom shouted.

When you entered his room, the beginning of the movie Charade starring Audrey Hepburn was on, oddly fitting with the location you were staying at. Tom walked from the bathroom, his tie loosen and his shoes off. He seemed more relaxed than you did, but he probably wasn't wondering what was coming of this in your mind.

"Hi... I uh, I just heard the TV and thought I would um... I uh, come over." You said, knowing how awkward and childish it sounded.

"Yeah, just an old movie. I was practicing my speech for tomorrow's conference." He said, gently pulling off his cuff links.

You hummed, standing there and your knees suddenly felt weak.

Tom took a second look at you, "Is everything okay?"

Butterflies swarmed inside your stomach, fuzzy feelings exploding and all you could do was slowly walk over to him. He sensed what move you could make, but Tom stood tall and strong, able to easily do it.

"Y/N, look at me." He softly commanded.

Your eyes met, and all you could hear was the TV in the background and the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Just as you took a step closer, he placed his hand on your soft cheek. Soon, your lips met in the middle for a spontaneous kiss that tasted heavenly.

As your tongue pressed against his, practically melting at how soft his was, his firm hands began to unbutton your top before he pulled away from the kiss.

"Is this okay?" He practically whispered.

You hummed, "Yes. Yes, keep going."

Just like that, he contiuned pulling apart the buttons one by one as your noses brushed against one another's and you could barely take the tension.

Once you undid the last button, you let your shirt fall near your feet. Standing there in your silk white bra and skirt, you slowly pushed him toward the bed until he sat down. His eyes trailed your body as you stood only a few feet away and your hands met the back of your skirt.

He watched you slowly peel down the zipper, the fabric pulling from your body before it fell to the ground as well. Tom's mouth gapped a bit, seeing your stockings were attached to a white garter belt and the matching lacey, white panties beneath them.

Tom was loss for words, the dim lights not doing any justice for your body. He leaned up as you walked toward him, and his hands immediately met your hips. He slowly pressed his lips against your lower abdomen, giving you butterlies as he continued to tease.

As you watched him carefully place his wet kisses, your hand met his soft curls and carded through them each time he got lower. He used his teeth to pull at the top of your panties, letting the fabric lightly slap your skin.

"You look like an angel, you know that?" He muttered.

You wanted to nod, but he ran his hand up your inner thigh before meeting your clothed slit. He smirked as he massaged the wet spot on the center of your panties. Your swollen clit ached, trying not to let your knees get weak as you still stood infront of him.

Your hands met his shoulders, and your fingernails lightly grazed his freckled skin. He kept moving his two fingers ever so slowly as he left a small love bite on your hip.

"I bet you want me to fuck you senseless, yes?" He groaned, "Until you can't even say words... just my name."

A small moan left your throat as he switched to his thumb rubbing on your clit. You gulped, wanting him to pull them off already but instead he brought you down to your knees.

"Not before you prove to me you're a good girl who deserves to be fucked so good." Tom nodded, holding his eye contact with you.

At first you wanted to pout, but you also wanted to show him that you were no force to be reckon with either. He thought he had the control and you were going to change that.

"Yes, sir." You trailed, giving a new meaning to the respect addressing he always told you not to use.

After unbuckling his belt, you threw it to the side before unzipping his pants. His cock pressed against his briefs, bigger than you expected. You tossed his pants along with his belt before your hand moved against his hard that stayed below the soft fabric.

Your fingers pulled each side of the band of his briefs, watching his cock spring up and all felt was your face feeling hot. He carefully watched your hand perfectly grip his base, pumping his hard slowly as your tongue ran over his red tip.

"Fucking christ, fuck." He groaned, using his weight to push up on his elbows as he laid back on the bed.

He expected you to be fast, but the slowness of your pace was killing him. Your hand moved up and down, your spit lubricating his base and your mouth wrapped around his tip.

"Don't fucking tease me all night, darling." He lowly growled, his hand moving through your hair to keep it from your face. He wanted to watch every second of his cock in your sweet mouth.

As your hands pushed against both his thighs, you felt his cock grow harder as his tip pressed against the back of your throat. You couldn't see Tom, but heard his moans he was obviously trying to hold back.

"No teeth, darling. Open your mouth wider... fucking. Yeah, fucking feels good." He practically panted.

Before he felt himself on the edge, you pulled away and all he could hear was his own heart beating. He didn't question fast enough, and you were already on your feet before straddling him.

"You had your fun, now you're gonna show me why you deserve to fuck me." You giggled, half-smiling then pressed your lips against his. He liked this side of you.

Tom rolled the two of you over, the cool sheets against your back. He parted your legs as he trailed wet kisses over your bra, down your stomach then over your panties. You tilted your head watching him unclip your stockings from your belt, then pulling your panties to the side.

He propped your left leg over his shoulder before placing a kiss on your clit, so swollen and wet. His tongue perfect stoked below your clit and right above your slit, just the place to make your whole body squirm. Tom continued to flick his tongue right at your sweet spot, holding down your hips as they tried to move.

A trail of quiet moans left your lips, completely in awe of how he took his time. Just as your stomach turned, his two fingers slipped inside you. They curled and moved slowly as his tongue worked your clit.

You could cum right there, letting him watch your whole body wither but you wanted to play the long game too. Your grip moved to his curls, tugging so hard the move you tried to hold back your orgasm.

"Oh... oh, I wanna..." Your voice strained, ending up biting your lip.

Tom smirked before leaving wet kisses up your slit and then further up toward your hips until wrapping his lips around your right nipple.

You leaned up on your elbows, smiling to yourself before he kissed you again, "I wanna be in control now." You whispered.

The two of you switched positions again, straddling him as he leaned his back against the headboard the of bed. You slowly wrapped your arms back around him, pecking faint kisses up his neck before meeting your noses again.

Your one hand guided his tip to your slit, rubbing it against the wet entrance before sinking down on his lap. His low, rough grunt was against your lips, but all you could do was smirk.

"I bet you want me to move now on your cock. I can feel it stretching out my tight hole." You whispered once more.

He didn't think such a dirty sentence could come from those lips.

"God, you feel fucking amazing, you tease." He said, his fingers pushing into your hips.

"I don't want you to cum until I say..." You kissed him, "Think you can do that, sir?" You teased.

Surprisingly, he nodded his head but he was completely putty. You fixed your posture to make your back straight, then start moving your hips. His head falls, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

Tom tried to refrain from moving, bucking his hips a few times. You tried to take control by kissing him and make sure he's distracted, but there was no stopping his wanting to turn the two of you over and have his own control back.

"Don't be shy, tell me if you're gonna cum." You whimpered, also feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"God, yes. I'm gonna cum." He grunted between your kiss.

You sped up the pace of your hips, hearing the slapping of your skin fill the room. You gasp and whine, "Don't cum yet."

But, he was so eager.

"Not yet... not yet." You trailed as you felt near your edge. You wanted him to wait until you were right there too.

By this point, he didn't want to move his hips, afraid of letting go since he was holding back. Your nails dug across his back, your clit incredibly swollen and your wetness trailing down your inner thighs.

"Fucking cum now, God!" You announced in a whiny tone.

Tom pushed down your hips, and his cock bottomed out inside you. Your voices were shaky and hoarse by the time you came back down from your highs.

Your head fell against his shoulder, both of your bodies settling as you huffed to catch your breaths. You slowly rolled off of him and lay next to him in his bed. Quickly, he pulled the covers over you two and leaned on his side to look at your tired self.

"Think we can go for round two in say..." He checked his watch, "Ten minutes?" Tom joked.

You smirked, "Make it five and I promise I'll have you screaming louder than me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Not for me, sir."

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

May Week 1: Diving into Divination

Alright everyone! May has arrived and this month's theme is all about divination! Everything from tarot, to runes to scrying, to other types and forms! We'll try to touch on as many as we can! Without further ado, let's dive in!

Monday - Definitions

Research/ New Page - Let's make a general divination page, and we will make more pages for each individual form of divination as we go! For this page, start with a definition of what divination is, at its base. Look up the history of divination through different cultures. Make a list of the various forms, methods, and types of divination you find. Now, what is divination used for? How has it been used through history and in various cultures? What is your experience, if any, with divination?

Research - Give each form of divination you listed a short description, as the pages we will make later will go much further into detail.

Tuesday - Tarot and Oracle

Research/ New Page - Dive in folks, look up a definition of both Tarot reading and Oracle reading, see how they are similar and different. If you’re familiar with the suits, awesome! If not we will be adding a different suit to study in the coming weeks, along with individual cards. So make a list of all the cards in a tarot and oracle deck, by suit, and we’ll get to descriptions of them all later both upright and reversed. Research traditional uses for these two types of divination, who performed them and where? What kind of questions can they help us answer? What things can they teach and show us? When does tarot reading date back to? Where did it originate? What is and can Tarot and Oracle reading be used for? Gather as much information you can and ask as many questions about the subject you can. The more you find out, the more you know, the better. 

Practical/ Journal - If you know how to perform a reading, give yourself a reading. If you are not a reader, see if you can find one. Mind you, this is a service like any other and I support all readers who charge for readings. Do not be afraid to pay for this service, as it takes another person’s time and energy. Journal both the question you asked, and the result of the reading. 

Practical - Look up various tarot spreads! Or make one of your own. There are a ton alone here on tumblr. Look into them, how to make them, what they ask, how and why and make one! Feel free to share the spread you make!

Gem study- Again, make a new page or a new note about a specific gemstone. What is it used for in magic? What is it used for in non magical applications? Is it associated with any myths, legends, or deities? Where on earth is it found? What are its other associations? 

Wednesday - Runes

Research/ New Page - As with the above, look up and define rune reading. What is it? Where did it originate? Who were the original rune readers? What kinds of questions can we ask during a rune reading? And what kinds of answers and insight can rune readings give us? How do rune readings work? Are they similar to tarot readings? How do you set up a rune reading? What kinds of uses are there for rune readings? Pick a specific rune alphabet, make a list of all of its characters and as we go along this month, or today if you’re feeling feisty, study each rune, its various meanings and how it works within a reading both upright and reversed. Again, find out as much as you can!

Practical/ journal- Either find a reader or with your study into how to perform a reading, give yourself one. Again, I suggest being willing to pay a reader for this, as it is a service that takes time and energy. Journal the question you asked, the rune layout, and the results of your reading. 

Herb study - Make a new page or note about an herb you have not studied yet. Look up its origins, how to grow it, its culinary, mundane and magical uses, along with its various associations. How was this herb used and thought of throughout history? Does it have any relation to myths and legends? 

Thursday - Scrying

Research/ New Page - Define scrying! What is it? How does it work? What are some common methods of scrying? Where has scrying been used traditionally? Who were the first to scry? How does one perform a scrying? What kinds of information can we glean from scrying? What things can it show and teach us? What is scrying generally used for?  Find out as much as you can about scrying!

Practical/ Journal - Perform one of the simpler methods of scrying that you researched, then journal about the experience! What did you see? Hear? Feel? What did it show you?

DiY - There are plenty of resources on the internet for making scrying and divination tools in general! This prompt is to create a scrying mirror! It does not have to be one of the fancier ones. But make one! There are even instructions here on tumblr, I’m sure! 

Friday - Pendulum

Research/ New Page - Now we’re going to look into Pendulum readings! (and pendulum work in general!) What are the ways we can use pendulums for divination? What kinds of things can pendulums help us divine? Where and when did pendulum reading originate? What can it show us and teach us? What is pendulum reading traditionally used for? Look up different methods of using pendulums.

Practical/ Journal - Make a pendulum! You don’t need a fancy one in order to perform divination with them. Look up a way to make a pendulum with everyday objects and perform a pendulum divination! Journal the process from the making of the pendulum to reading and its results. 

Meditation/ Introspection - We’ve given ourselves a lot of insight this week, asked a lot of questions of the universe and hopefully found some insight and answers into the /whys/ behind all these questions. Take some time to think about the answers you’ve gotten. Journal about all of the results and the way they apply to your life and current situation. 

WHEW! That was a lot, huh? So much to discover! Let's take the weekend and rest, since we got so much work done this week!

Good luck and happy crafting witches!

-Mod Hazel

[lambtotheslaughterr]

When The Bough Breaks : Part Two

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 6.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | PART THREE

            It was a little before noon on Friday when Moses came home. You were down on the beach. Thursday had passed in a blur. You had woken up still foggy, despite having gone to bed without the wine Wednesday night. But your body had become accustomed to it. Thursday morning you made yourself a margarita, slipped into an old one-piece, & trudged down to the beach, hoping the sun exposure would help rejuvenate you.

You had hoped to see Sarah again. You weren’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was that you finally had connected with someone outside of your plethora bottles of wine. You momentarily recalled your encounter with the friendly realtor in town & shuddered. She reminded you too much of home, of all the wives of wealthy husbands—much like yourself—who hosted Tuesday brunches & commented on an article piece that featured one of your many upper-class wife-friends. Rose Cameron was not someone you hoped to interact with much. People like her always proved to be a let down when it really mattered.

The margarita you had made was safely burrowed in the sand, a perfect side table as you lied on your back, the North Carolina sun beating warmly down on you. There wasn’t a soul in sight. For the most part you were grateful for that. No one would bother you down here, not that anyone bothered you up at the house. Still, you were beginning to be thankful for the move. Perhaps your husband was right about the move; it would be good for you.

“_____?” The sound of your name forced you to look upwards & behind you, an awkward angle.

Standing upside down in your vision stood your husband. He had removed his own shoes, his pant legs rolled to his ankles. He smiled down at you. Even upside down he still remained whole-heartedly handsome.

“Moses.” You returned, your voice slightly shaky in his presence. You had completely forgotten today was Friday. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the margarita in the sand beside you yet, “You’re home.”

He came to your left, opposite the margarita. You pushed yourself to a sitting position as he joined you on the beach.

“It’s nice to come home & see you out here. I was worried when I called your name & there was no response.” He placed a gentle hand on your back, rubbing the exposed skin there. You scratched behind your ear uncomfortably at the physical affection. It had been a very, very long time since you felt him touch you lovingly.

“I figured a little sun wouldn’t help.” You shared, your voice lowering. You still loved your husband, as much as you could considering the circumstances, but it was difficult most of the time. He was a constant reminder of the great loss you both suffered.

“It’s a good first step, _____.” He began. You could feel his dark blue’s staring lovingly at you. But then they shifted. He had spotted the glass.

You inhaled sharply, standing up abruptly, sure to ‘accidentally’ knock the glass over so the remnants would spill into the sand, “Oh, shit.” You muttered, “What a mess.”

Turning your back, you gathered your phone, towel, & empty glass, tucking them all away in your tote bag. You slipped into your sandals, avoiding Moses’s worried eyes. “That’s enough sun for this morning, I think.”

You had just reached the sandy path back to your house when Moses caught up to you.

“_____.” He called gently. But you kept walking, knowing what he was going to say. “_____.” He said again, but more firmly.

When it was clear that you weren’t going to stop, he walked ahead of you to stand in your way. You faked a smile, “What is it?”

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking on your medication.”

You scoffed, shaking your head innocently, “It’s one drink, Moses. The doctor only said I shouldn’t be drinking excessively.”

But Moses gave you a look that revealed he knew you were lying. You ignored it, pushing past him, “Honestly, honey, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Maybe we should get set up with a counselor here, too.” He offered, catching up to walk alongside you.

You stopped abruptly at that. “Why would you suggest that?”

“Why is talking to someone such a bad thing?” He countered, “I know you were resistant in the beginning but it’s been over a year, _____. We need to talk to someone.”

You shook your head, feeling yourself grow sweaty with simmering anger.

“Would you talk to me?” Moses followed behind you as you entered through the basement doors. You sped-walk to the stairs, determined to climb the two flights so you could slam the bedroom door in your husband’s face. He needed to leave you alone. He was making it worse.

“Leave me alone, Moses.” You replied, though you were unsure if your voice really came to.

“_____!” He once again attempted to get ahead of you but you dropped your bag & made the last sprint to your bedroom. Before he could breach the threshold, you turned & slammed the door, locking it in the process. You did the same to the door that led in from the patio. You felt yourself shaking, unwilling tears getting caught in your eyelashes.

Moses tried the knob once. You heard him sigh tiredly on the other side, “I’ll leave you alone. But will you come see me when you’re ready.”

You didn’t respond. He sighed again. You could picture him resting his forehead on the door.

“Okay. I’ll be in my office.” His voice was quiet, sounding equally as dejected as you felt.

With that, you heard his footfalls carry away, his office just down the hallway from your bedroom. He wouldn’t be too far if you changed your mind. You fiercely grabbed one of the posts a part of your bedroom, none-so-gently pressing your face into it to cry silently. Even more frustrating is that you try to hide your dependency on alcohol from your husband, but he knew better. Still though, you wanted to lie to yourself that you didn’t know. So you couldn’t sneak out of the room to find yourself a bottle of wine to wind down & nap with.

You lied on your bed for what felt like a couple hours, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Sleep tried coming for you a handful of times but your body wouldn’t give. Every now & then you heard Moses leave his office. Sometimes you could hear him approach the door, likely listening for you. You always held your breath. Tears escaped every time you did, finding it unbelievable that your marriage had come to this. But you couldn’t fix it, & neither could a counselor.

It was shortly after 2 when you finally left your bedroom. The house was quiet & when you passed by Moses’s office, his door was open but he wasn’t inside. You had changed into PJ’s at this point, & were growing hungry. When you reached the common area of the third floor, he was still nowhere in sight. You could see out the windows over the stairs that his car was here. Entering the kitchen, you finally caught a glimpse of him. He was on the patio, just past the sunroom. His shoulders were hunched & a cigarette was between his fingers. You frowned. He had given up smoking long before the two of you met. You knew he kept a pack for times when he was stressed, but you rarely ever actually saw him partake in the habit.

Ignoring the pleas of your stomach, you entered the sunroom. The sound of the screen door slamming back into place alerted Moses to your arrival. He glanced at you over his shoulder, a forced smile on his lips. He followed your line of sight to his fingers holding the lit cigarette. He half-heartedly laughed but there was no joy behind it.

“Guess we both have our vices.” He uttered.

You joined him at the railing, tempted to place a comforting hand on him, but couldn’t. You didn’t know how to touch him anymore.

“I’m sorry.” You said. And you were. Moses had only ever meant well. He would push but never too hard.

Your eyes met & he nodded, taking a drag of the cigarette. The two of you stared out to the ocean, the sun still high in the sky.

“We’ve been invited to a dinner.” He told you, surprising you. Who would he know in town to get an invite?

He continued without you gesturing for him too. “Our realtor, Jack Schaffer, I’m not sure you ever met him. But he’s invited us to a colleagues of his for dinner.”

Your stomach rolled, having a decent idea as to who could have orchestrated such a gathering.

“When?” You asked, hoping it won’t be for some time.

“Tomorrow night.” He responded, his voice audibly exhausted, “I declined.”

Your eyes widened, “Moses, why?”

He shrugged, “You’re not ready.” He dragged the cigarette on top of the railing before tossing it into an empty planting pot behind the two of you, “I don’t want you to force yourself for my sake.”

Your heart faltered, “Do you want to go?”

He exhaled, nodding, “It would be nice to get to know some people. I think it would be good for both of us. But I learned a long time ago to not decide what is good for you.”

Moses was a beautiful being. His entire career & lifestyle consisted of helping people heal, to grow stronger—though in most cases physically. But when it came to you, he felt helpless. You knew he wished for nothing more than to make you better. But it was your journey, not his.

“Thank you.” You replied. “You should go though.”

Moses looked at you, “I considered that. But uh, it’s just not the same without you. Quite frankly, it’d be lonely.”

You laughed softly, the memories of your early years with each other running across the forefront of your mind. You two were a package deal. Wherever you went he went, & wherever he went…

“Let’s go.” You swallowed the dry lump in your throat.

Moses furrowed his brows, “What? Why?”

“Because you’re right.” You started, “You’re always right. It’d be good for us. I wasn’t the biggest fan of this whole move-to-an-island tactic but it was a good move, it just took me a second to realize that.”

He grinned happily, his hand grabbing yours, “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure, _____? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Moses, I’ve been not doing a lot of things I don’t want to do. You’ve done so much for me, I can do this for you.”

What he did next left you shocked. He pulled you into him, kissing the crown of your head. At first, you felt stiff in his arms, your first instinct to pull away. And you could feel in his affection that he was prepared for you to do just that. But as he held you against him, you saw over his shoulder the coastline & how beautiful it looked. You felt your eyes close sweetly slow, embracing this small, special moment far away from your misery.

Your wrapped your arms around his frame.

“I love you, _____.” Moses mouthed against the side of your head, “I always will.”

Saturday evening came much too quickly for your taste. The previous night was the first time you & Moses had had dinner together in quite some time. It was a quiet dinner, & at some points you felt yourself wanting to snap or breakdown, but Moses always found a way step away from a potentially triggering moment. The rest of the night had continued smoothly. Moses did the dishes as you took your medication & treated yourself to a hot shower. Then for the first time since you two moved to the east coast, Moses slept in your bed together. It was almost like before.

Almost.

By 5:30 you were done getting ready. It had been a long time since you got dressed up for a social event. Though it was only a small dinner, you still felt a lot of pressure to show up as your old self. Not that anyone even knew you before. You made good to remind yourself of that as you squeezed into a modest dark pink lace dress that you owned. The weight you gained wasn’t as well hidden in this dress but you figured you didn’t care. You couldn’t. If you cared too much then you’d never leave the house.

Moses stood in the doorway to the bathroom as you finished putting in your earrings. He looked impeccable in a simple cream colored button up matched with a pair of khaki colored slacks. He had recently shaved his facial hair down to a light buzz, taking away the salt look you had grown to like so much.

You turned to look at him, running your hands over your front, feeling unsure. Moses stepped forward, looking you up from head to toe, a warm smile on his handsome face, “You look perfect.”

“I don’t.” You rejected the compliment, but smiled through it, “But thank you anyway.”

His smile fell slightly but he brushed it off, “I have a call to make then I’ll be ready. How are you on time?”

You nodded, following him out of the bathroom, “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

He paused in the hallway outside his office, resting a comforting hand on your upper arm. You resisted shrugging it off, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You didn’t trust your voice. So, you nodded, forcing a close-lipped smile.

You could tell that he didn’t believe you but he wasn’t a pusher, “I’ll be just a minute.”

Moses disappeared into his office. You carried your heels to the kitchen. You had taken your medication about an hour ago. You wanted nothing more than to chase it with a glass of wine but with Moses under the same roof you couldn’t risk it. It was no secret that you mixed the two together, & while it was obvious Moses knew about it, you didn’t want to see the look of disapproval. It’s why you savored the days when he was working inland.

In the butler’s kitchen, you surveyed the small collection of wine you kept. Old habits die hard, you thought as you contemplated which bottles would be best for gifting a host. You had decided on a summery white when Moses appeared. At first he look concerned but then nodded in agreement, “Good idea. I have an untouched bottle of scotch in my office.”

After Moses grabbed the bottle of scotch, you found some scrap ribboning, tying simple knots around the necks of both bottles, “Should be good enough.”

Moses kissed the side of your head before guiding you two to the door. Much to your chagrin, the destination wasn’t very far. Moses had insisted on walking, saying it would be good for both your legs to get some exercise. In less than three minutes, the two of you appeared at the end of a long driveway. The walk up revealed a beautiful & charming Charleston style home. It was all white, with big windows to let in all the North Carolina sunlight. You inhaled sharply, bracing Moses’s forearm for comfort as you got closer. He pat your hand gently, “It’s just like old times. You can do it.”

You didn’t believe his words but it was nice knowing you could lean on him when it mattered. Just as you were approaching the doors, a familiar face opened them, stepping out to greet the two of you.

“Evening!” She greeted happily, holding out her hand to shake your husbands hand, “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Rose, welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” Your husband spoke before gesturing to you, “This is my wife, _____.”

“Hello, _____.” Rose surpassed a handshake, instead offering a hug that left you feeling shaken up over, “It’s lovely to see you again.”

Moses looked between the two of you momentarily. He opened his mouth to say something when another name hollered out, “Mr. McFarlane!” An average looking man about your age with a receding hairline stepped out, “Glad you could make it! I was relieved Rose was able to salvage the dinner arrangements after your cancellation. It’s nice to have you two here.”

As Moses turned to speak with the man who you assumed to be Jack, Rose faced you, her perfect smile blasting you in the face, “I hope you like steak.”

“Who doesn’t.” You softly said but swallowed down your discomfort, “Oh, we brought these as well.”

You produced the two bottles from a paper bag you carried, “I wasn’t sure what you drank so I went a safe route.”

Rose gleamed at the gift, taking the bottles, “This is great. Thank you, _____. Come on, follow me.”

You shot a wary look to Moses as he stood on the front steps with Jack. He mirrored you as you passed him by. It seemed you both were out of practice in the art of socializing.

“Your home is beautiful.” You offered as your eyes danced around the grand interior. For a house on the beach, it reminded you a lot of the condos you often were invited to back in the city. It had a lot of modern touches & luxurious pieces throughout.

“Thank you. Ward insisted on a renovation, but I convinced him to keep some small, vintage details.” She paused to point at an accent table that looked to be a couple centuries old but well-tended, “It’s an antique. Estimated to be $15,000. One of the pieces I saved from Ward’s modern taste.”

You nodded, truly not caring about the boasting of numbers, “It’s gorgeous.”

Rose hummed to herself, leading you into a larger room where a grand table was set with candles & dining sets. A man sat at the head of the table, a phone in his hand as he clacked away on it.

“Ward, honey, our guests are here.”

The man, who was very similar in appearance in age & appearance to your husband, glanced up from his phone. For a split second you looked mildly irritated before he replaced the expression with a polite smile. Rising from his seat, he rounded the table, offering his hand.

“_____, this is my husband, Ward Cameron. Ward, this is the woman who moved in down the street I told you about.” You cringed internally at that, imagining the worst things she could’ve possibly said about you. She seemed the type after all.

“Pleasure, _____.” Ward greeted.

“Likewise.” His grip was firm but short. Voices sounded behind you & to your relief your husband appeared. As the men introduced one another, another woman appeared. She was yours & Rose’s age.

“Vera, this is _____. Your husband sold them the house down the road.”

The woman smiled brightly, but hers wasn’t as overwhelming as Rose’s. “It’s nice to meet you, _____. I love your dress.”

“Oh, thank you.” You stumbled over the compliment, “I love your hair.”

You felt you were in grade school again, making friends on the first day when you didn’t want to be there.

“I just had it done!” She fingered her honey-colored locks that stopped just above her shoulders.

After the introductions concluded, everyone sat at the table. Rose & Ward at either end, you & Moses on one side, & Vera & Jack on the other. Conversation was light at first as everyone talked amongst themselves while appetizers were brought out by kitchen staff. You hadn’t eaten much today but there was no appetite. Still, you forced yourself to have a couple bites.

By the time the main course came out, everyone had had a bit to drink, that is except for you. You had grown accustomed to drinking on your own in the last year that drinking with others felt… strange. It wasn���t tempting whatsoever. Rose had offered you a glass of wine from the bottle you had bought but you declined. When she cocked an eyebrow at that, you knew that she had been expecting you to say yes.

Moses, Jack, & Ward discussed their work while Rose & Vera began to talk in detail about their kids. The topic choice forced you to be quiet. You could’ve had something to add, but not anymore. All the while Moses kept a comforting hand on your leg under the table. You were sure the steak you forced yourself to eat had taste but no flavors came through. You felt dizzy. You shakily brought a glass of water to your lips.

“_____, are you okay?”

The sound of your name followed by the question halted all conversation. You sweltered. Rose placed a hand on the arm closest to her, “You look pale.”

Bitch! You screamed internally to yourself. Now everyone was looking at you in concern.

“I’m okay.” You lied, folding the napkin on your lap & placing it on the table, “I just need to use the restroom really quick.”

“Certainly.” Rose’s airy voice feigned concern, “All the way down the hallway, then take a left & the bathroom is at the end.”

“Honey.” Moses lowered his voice as you stood. You tossed him a look of warning, “I’m okay. I’ll be right back. Please, continue.”

Escaping from the claustrophobic dining space, you followed Rose’s directions until you turned left at the end of the hallway. Away from prying eyes, you leaned against the wall, holding your head in your hands & catching your breath. Everything had been going well so far, or at least decent enough for you to hold your own. But then Vera gushed about her nine-year old, & Rose commented on her stepdaughter’s whereabouts. It was a life you would never get a chance to be a part of. You crumbled in seconds.

Once you felt calm enough to move again, you made the rest of your way to the bathroom. On approach, you noted that the door to it was cracked, with the light on. You frowned. The light suggested someone may be inside but the cracked door left you wondering if maybe a staff member just forgot to turn the lights off.

Hesitantly, you knocked but no sound came. Then you pushed it open slowly. A gasp left your lips at the sight before you.

Sitting on a small, cushioned chair, a young man sat, having just snorted a known white powder off the length of his thumb. His eyes blood-shot eyes flew to your own. While yours were wide & apologetic, his own were glaring & filled with an unbridled fury. You made to shut the door as you pulled away but he stood fast, gripping the end of it to open it more. He stood a good head taller than you, “Who the hell are you?”

You ignored his question, once again apologizing, “Wrong turn.”

Turning your back on him, you began to walk back to where you came from when the young man yelled loudly, “Hey! I asked you a question.”

You picked up speed but didn’t run. You just wanted to not draw any more attention to yourself. It wasn’t your business why there was a college-aged kid doing coke in your hosts’ bathroom.

Just as you were about to turn the corner, you bumped into a figure. It was Ward. He gripped your upper arms to steady you, an unhappy smile on his face, “Careful.”

Then he glanced behind you, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t say anything to the man behind you before he gently gestured for you to return the dining room, “Tell Rose I’ll be back momentarily, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Shakily you nodded, beginning to walk away from him. Ward disappeared around the corner, walking toward where you had just left. You walked slowly, not in a rush to return to the dining room. As you stalled, you heard heated whispering coming from the hallway you had departed from.

“Goddamnit!” It started, “We talked about this, Rafe.”

Rafe? Why did that name sound vaguely familiar.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t want your son around when you have people over. Ashamed of me, right, Dad?”

Ward spoke again but this time lower, leaving you unable to decipher what was being said. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t your business. Leaving the two to their affair, you focused on your breathing, returning to the dining room.

Everyone was in conversation with one another, except for Rose. When you sat down, you felt her eyes on you. You raised your own to meet yours. She looked at you as if you were hiding something from her.

“Better?” She asked. Moses turned to you, echoing her question.

“Yes, much.” You replied, though you really hadn’t a chance to get better. You just happened to get distracted & chased away, which albeit, did help you forget your anxieties in a way.

“Your husband said he would be right back.” You told Rose. She produced a stiff smile, nodding once. Then she turned her attention to everyone at the table, “Well, should we have dessert?”

Dessert lasted longer than the appetizer & main course combined. Ward had returned shortly after you, a disdainful look on his face, despite the grin he kept carrying throughout conversation. Rose had quit talking some time ago, deep in thought, you could tell. At some point, the men followed Ward to his private dwellings, referring to the space as ‘where he goes to get away from the women in his life’. Both men had chuckled awkwardly at the comment. Moses gave you a gentle kiss on the head before he left down the hallway with them.

Like the men, Rose excused herself as well, claiming her attention was needed elsewhere, but not before telling you & Vera to make yourselves at home, going so far as to suggest the backyard where a beautiful view of coast waited.

The sun had just set when you & Vera followed her advice, sitting a patio table to converse lightly with one another. Vera you liked. A lot. She was one of those women you knew you could trust. She didn’t fake her smiles or care about the matters of others. You hoped that if you were to run into anyone more often on the island in the future it would be her. However, a bit into your conversation with one another, her phone began to ring.

“Sorry.” She winced, “It’s the babysitter. Cyrus hasn’t been feeling good the last couple days.”

You nodded in understanding, having understood it at one point, & told her you would be fine on your own. Vera left you to your lonesome.

For the first time that night, you felt at ease. There were no strangers to judge you when you weren’t looking, or intrusive realtor wives to make your blatant discomfort a matter of concern for everybody. You sat at the table for some time, watching the sky shift from an orange-y pink to a pinky purple. You checked the time on your phone & it was nearly 8:30. It was disconcerting to think that you had been at this gathering for over two hours now. Before you could last all night, but you had already felt yourself begin to wane as you left your home. Still though, sitting by yourself for the first time that night felt comforting.

You slipped out of your heels, no longer finding it necessary to wear them with no others around. The glass door from the kitchen opened & a young girl carrying a tray of wine glasses came out, “Miss, would you like some?”

You easily could’ve said no but it would only be one glass. With a welcoming smile, you accepted a glass from the woman before she returned inside. You brought the glass to your lip, taking a small sip. Immediately, you felt your muscles relax. You inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar taste on your tongue.

Kicking your heels under the table, you rose from your seat & began to walk out onto their expansive lawn. The grass was embarrassingly soft beneath your feet. Had you a couple more glasses of wine in you, you probably would’ve lied down for your husband to find you. But fortunately, it wouldn’t come to that.

You stood at the edge of their lawn, looking out onto the beach, taking a drink from your wine every few moments. As you stood there, admiring the view & embracing the quiet coastal charm, you resolved that this was a world you could grow to love. You already were, after all. For a moment longer, you enjoyed the views. And then footfalls sounded behind you.

You exhaled slowly. All good things must come to an end at some point.

Turning around you had expected to see Vera, ready to apologize a second time, or even the host coming to stare at you until you broke under her stare, but it was neither friend nor foe who you were surprised to see.

Instead, who approached you was the young man from the bathroom. Upon closer inspection, he was indeed young. He had light brown hair that kissed his forehead, grueling blue eyes that paired well with his sun-kissed skin, & an unfriendly smirk gracing the corner of his lips. Already, you felt your walls go up. What the hell did this kid want?

“Hello again.” He greeted.

You nodded once, opting to not say anything. You turned away from him, focusing your attention back on the beach. Part of you hoped he was just going to pass you by, but then he stopped just beside you, his hands in his pockets.

“How was my step-mothers dinner?” He said ‘step-mother’ with such distaste that you could actually relate to it.

“Fine.” You responded shortly.

“Hmm.” You looked at him in your peripheral, seeing a knowing smirk appear on his face, “I see you’re not impressed by her attempts like other wives on this island.”

It was your turn to hum in response. What business did you have to—in a way—talk shit about Rose to her stepson? Absolutely none.

“It’s okay.” He said, seemingly having read your mind, “I can’t stand the gold-digger either.”

The insult forced your lips to part in shock. The gall of this guy…

“That why you were making a run for the bathroom earlier?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint, “Trying to escape her overbearing arrogance.”

Yes & no, you thought to yourself but still kept it nonverbal.

The young man peered down at you curiously before lighting the joint. The thick smell of marijuana invaded your nostrils, making your stomach flip. You had never much partook in smoking the grass, having always favored alcohol over other vices, but you had been around it plenty in your 20’s. You subconsciously waved away the smoke that wafted towards you.

“Whoops.” The young man voiced, but didn’t sound all the apologetic as he blew the smoke, this time sure to blow it away from you. “Want a hit?”

You frowned, finally looking at him, “No, thank you.”

He wagged his head at that, seemingly amused, “’No, thank you’.” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes. Though he was college-aged, he must’ve not grown much at all. You finished off the glass of wine, regretful you couldn’t enjoy the last bit in peace. You were about to turn & leave the man behind when what he said next took you by surprise.

“My father said I needed to apologize to you.” The way he said it informed you that he absolutely didn’t believe he was apologetic, but it was enough to keep you standing there.

You turned to face him fully, “Apology accepted.”

He scoffed, a cocky smile appearing on his face, “That wasn’t me apologizing.”

You shook your head, “And I don’t expect I’ll get a proper one from you. So, I’ll take what I can get.”

Smoke seeped from his parted lips as he stared down at you. It left you feeling unsettled.

“Goodnight.” You had barely taken a step away when his next words shook you to your core.

“Word on the island is you’re a drunk.” You paused, not facing him. You felt your skin flush, “And that your husband is too weak of a man to get you help.”

You rounded on him with lightening speed, “You can spit all the crap you want about your mother—”

“Stepmother.” He countered.

You ignored him & continued heatedly, “But you don’t talk about my husband. He is a good man, a good husband.”

The young man smiled proudly. You wished you were the type to smack some sense into someone.

“Hey, I wasn’t saying that. Just people are. Thought you’d like to know.” Though he was claiming innocence, you knew better than to trust this child standing before you.

“Well then you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” You countered.

“You’ve defended your husband.” He said, taking a hit from the joint, “But you’ve not come to your own defense.”

You felt your brows furrow in confusion until you remember what else he had said. You lowered your eyes shamefully, “Like I said. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Mhmm.” He stared at you challengingly. You felt yourself falter under his all-knowing glare. But you never lowered your gaze, not wanting to succumb to the words of a youth. You were at least stronger than that.

“_____?” The sound of your name ripped your focus away from the problem before you. On the patio, holding your heels, was your husband. He waved you over, “We’re heading out.”

You waved back before facing the young man once more, “Have a goodnight, kid.” You said, none-so-gently placing your empty glass of wine into the palm of his hand. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the contact you initiated. The young man grinned, his eyes never leaving you.

“Name’s Rafe.”

“Uh-huh.” Ignoring his stares, you turned your back on him, approaching your husband.

“Everything okay?” He asked with concern. For the umpteenth time that night, you forced another smile, “Everything is grand.”

Moses offered his forearm as you used it to balance slipped back into your heels. As you did so, your eyes reluctantly returned to the figure standing on the lawn. Though he was a couple yards away, you felt his eyes burning into you. Shaking it off, you stood straight, smiling at your husband, “Ready.”

Back inside, Rose & Ward met you two at the front door. Vera & Jack were nowhere in sight.

“Unfortunately, they had to leave.” Ward shared, noting your wandering gaze, “Kid was puking.”

“Ah.” You mustered a smile, “Well, thank you for dinner.”

Rose hugged you once more, but said nothing. Throughout the night, you had noticed her mask of friendly neighbor slowly melt. The two of you were about to part when Rose finally spoke, this time however, she addressed your husband.

“Mr. McFarlane, really quick, I wanted to mention something that Jack forgot to tell you.” The two of them stepped off to the side, leaving alone with the man of the house. Your eyes fell to Ward, & you were flustered to see his eyes were already on you, narrowed.

“Mrs. McFarlane, I understand you saw my son doing something inappropriate earlier.” His bluntness took you by surprise. Couldn’t you just leave?

“Oh, I’m not sure—”

“Please.” He chuckled lightly, attempting to smile reassuringly at you, “There’s no need to protect him.”

You closed your lips, nodding once.

“I know you’re new to the island, & while I know you’ve not made any friends here yet—” The comment shocked you but he continued anyway, “I ask that anything you see here to not be shared with anyone outside of this home.”

You were unsure of what to say, still recovering from his previous comment.

“You’ll learn soon enough I imagine how, well, to put it plainly, how ruthless people on the island can be. I imagine you’ve heard what people have said about you.”

A small, appalled exhale escaped you. But before you could neither confirm nor deny, the unpleasant man before you carried on.

“So, I just ask that if you keep your mouth shut.” He stepped forward as he lowered his voice, “I’ll keep mine shut as well.”

You frowned. It wasn’t like you had anything major to hide, or really anything to be ashamed of. You came from a world very similar to this one, what baggage you carried was a carry-on compared to the trolley some people needed for theirs.

“I trust you understand what I’m saying.” You stared up at him, at a loss for words.

“Ready, honey?” Moses appeared at your side, “Thank you again for dinner, Ward. It was excellent.”

Rose joined Ward, her hand grasping his forearm. A very tyrannical couple stood before you. Ward’s eyes softened at your husband’s thanks, “It was all Rose.”

Actually, it was all a probably underpaid kitchen staff, you wanted to interject but remained quiet.

Rose grinned proudly, “It was lovely having you two over finally. We’ll have to do it again soon.”

Ward nodded in agreement, his eyes falling to your own in silent discernment.

“We would love to.” Moses replied.

With that, Rose & Ward stepped to the side to allow you to access to the exit you greatly craved.

“And _____,” Rose’s painfully kind voice sounded behind you, “Thank you again for the wine. It was lovely.”

‘Lovely’ was quickly becoming your most-hated word, & you didn’t even have one to begin with.

“Of course.” You muttered, a smile not quite reaching your lips.

Moses placed a hand on your lower back as he led you out of the door. Though his hand was on you in comfort, you felt anything but. Against your better judgement, you peeked over your shoulder once more, observing Ward standing in the doorway of his egregious home. Much like his son, you could feel the unwavering stare burning your skin as you walked away.

It was in that moment that you decided that you would never interact with a member of that family again, for as much as you could help it.

A very long part. I hope ya'll are enjoying it so far. What do we think of Rafe's introduction? Talk to me!

Please comment, reblog, drop an ask, I want to hear it all friends. It really helps as a writer.

In the meantime, thank you for reading!

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[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 6 - The Darkroom

"Ok Google, play Smells Like Sex by Sizzy Rocket."

The response the latest update has been phenomenal and I'm so grateful to you all, here's a smutty little something, something to say thanks. Throws Fred Benson under the plot bus. Chapter 7 should be up by tomorrow evening (10/04 9pm GMT), the updates might then be a bit more spread out as I'm back to work.

Chapter warnings: MDI (18+ only), oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, throat fucking, female masturbation, explicit language, smoking, mentions of drug taking, mentions of upskirting, slightly mean!Eddie?, Eddie calls reader a whore but she's into it, overuse of pet names (sweetheart, etc, etc) as ever at this point.

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

You made it to Robin's practice with seconds to spare, not that it mattered, mentally you were checked out.

You had kissed Eddie, kissed him like you would kiss a - boyfriend, the word jarring in your skull. It was intimate and terrifying. You tell yourself it’s because you’ve been starved of affection for so long, you’re bound to be a little drawn to Eddie, the person who is giving you that affection; but the thoughts wouldn’t rationalize.

You didn’t call him that evening, like you said you would, justifying there was nothing new to say to each other and that he would find a re-cap of Robin’s band practice boring. You would speak to him tomorrow…

Tuesday… 

You didn’t purposely duck into Ms Thompson’s classroom to avoid Eddie who was walking straight towards you in the corridor, you just remembered a query you had about your most recent paper.

And at lunchtime the weather was so nice it felt wasteful to sit in a packed cafeteria.

Wednesday…

You honestly didn’t see Eddie wave at you across the parking lot, too busy in conversation with Robin, and come to think of it, you weren't even sure it was Eddie. 

You were in the shower when your phone rang that night, and by the time you had dried your hair it was too late to call back.

Thursday…

You had to skip the class you shared, ‘dental check up’.

You had work in the evening, no time for plans.

Today…

You’re walking between 3rd and 4th period when a strong hand grips your arm, hauling you into the photography club’s dark room, you find yourself with your back to the door, Eddie staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

“What the hell Eddie, I have to get to class!” You hiss, rubbing at your forearm.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He says calmly.

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” You say cagily, crossing your arms, refusing to look him in the eyes.

“Bullshit.” He snorts, pointing at you. “You got spooked in the woods, why?” 

“I had to get to Robin’s practice, just like I've got to get to class now.” You move to open the door, but Eddie braces his arms on either side of you, effectively caging you.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” He repeats, but his voice has an edge this time.

You bite your lip, eyes locked on the floor tiles feeling oddly tearful, heart hammering painfully against your breastbone with the stress of the situation.

“Hey, look at me.” His tone is gentler than a moment ago, you risk a glance at his face, he looks sad. “Sweetheart, you know the rules, if you aren’t having fun we can just call it a day.” 

“But I am having fun!” You say, kicking your heel back into the door frame, frustrated with yourself.

“So what’s the issue?” He asks confused, his palm coming up to rest against your cheek. “Did I do something wrong? Shit, did I hurt you?” His eyes swimming with concern.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I just -” You struggle to find the words, feeling amped up, unable to think properly in such close proximity to him. “ARGH! I’m not used to this.” You huff out in exasperation, gesturing weakly between the two of you, turning away from his touch.

“Not used to what exactly? Fucking around? Enjoying yourself? Having someone take care of you?” He quizzes.

“All of the above I guess-” You admit, biting nervously at the skin around your thumb, sighing heavily as he pulls your hand away from your mouth. “- I kissed you Eddie, when I had no reason to.”

Your words hang in the air for a second, then Eddie laughs, and honestly you want to punch him in the face. 

“That’s what this whole thing is about?” He chuckles, as you stare open-mouthed like a fish out of water, an angry fish out of water. “Sweetheart, we are two horny teenagers who have great sexual chemistry. There are gonna be times that we don’t have a reason, you’re just going to have to accept that we're gonna kiss and it’s gonna feel really, really good.” His voice drops a little lower, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

  You could feel yourself relenting, deep down you knew it wasn’t just a really good kiss, you’d had plenty of those with him already, but you quashed the little nagging voice in favour of sucking on Eddie’s bottom lip before biting it in a minor retaliation for laughing at you.

He was on you then, kissing you so fervently your head smacks into the door, but you couldn’t care less. Your hands in his hair tugging harshly, neither of you willing to part even to take a breath. You feel his hands at your hips, squeezing desperately, pulling you away from the door and lifting you up onto one of the countertops.

"Fuck, I've been losing my mind all week, need you princess." He moans, slotting in between your legs like a puzzle piece, his words light a fire in your belly, your hands busy unzipping his pants as he reaches under your shirt to unclasp your bra. Then the door opens flooding the room with bright light, Principal Higgins and Fred Benson staring in confusion.

"What on-." 

The four of you freeze until Eddie clears his throat, a masked attempt at zipping his fly.

"Uh - and that is how you develop a photo, Miss Y/L/N, any questions?" Eddie asks you in an affected tone of authority, you can only shake your head as he helps you down from the counter, hand in hand edging towards the exit. "No? Wonderful, well then we best be off."

“No so fast Mr Munson -" Principal Higgins says, stepping in front of the doorway. "-if I'm not mistaken you’re supposed to be in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class right now. And you young lady-” You feel yourself shrink a little, as he rounds on you, Eddie squeezing your hand slightly. "-where are you supposed to be?”

“Mr Mundy’s class, Sir.” You mumble mortified beyond belief.

“So would you care to explain to me why you are here instead?” He asks, taunting you before the inevitable.

“It’s all Fred’s fault Principal Higgins, he took a bad photo of this poor girl, she was just devastated!" Eddie says, pointing accusingly at a startled Fred. "And seeing her so upset, well it broke my heart Sir. I had to be a good Samaritan and destroy all the copies.” He implores, hamming it up.

You don’t know whether to laugh or simply curl up in a ball and die.

“Detention, both of you.” Principal Higgins snaps. “And Mr Munson, if I find you anywhere you shouldn’t be again, I will have you permanently expelled before you can achieve your diploma. Is that understood?”

You’re shaking in your proverbial boots, but Eddie simply grins, offering a two finger salute from his forehead; definitely going to curl up and die. 

Principal Higgins had the foresight to put you in separate classrooms for your detention, which allowed you an entire hour to panic about Fred Benson. Not only was he an incessant gossip, but he also worked on 'The Weekly Streak' school newspaper alongside Nancy, if he told Nancy what he saw, she could tell Steve and then... let chaos reign.

Eddie was leaning against the lockers waiting for you when you emerged from Mrs Bridger's classroom at 5pm.

"Hey there little jailbird." He smiles, bumping your shoulder affectionately.

"Hey." You mumble back unable to keep the miserable expression of your face.

"Why so sulky?" He asks, falling in step with you as you both head out to the parking lot.

"Fucking Fred Benson, he’s a liability." You say, biting once more at the skin around your thumb, you wouldn’t have a hand left by the end of this year with the way you were going.

"Don't worry about dear Freddie, I've taken care of it." He soothes with a grin.

"You kill him?” You ask hopefully, reaching Eddie’s van leaning against the side, he laughs standing next to you, lighting up a cigarette.

“No I didn’t kill him, just gave him a little unfriendly advice.” You reach out for the cigarette with wiggling fingers, taking it happily and gesturing for him to continue, he rolls his eyes and lights another for himself. “You see, being Hawkins High’s best drug dealer gets me a lot of information, and it turns out our budding photographer Fred has been taking some pretty inappropriate photos.”

“Such as?” You ask warily.

“You ever worn a skirt when you’re sitting on the bleachers?” He asks, you nod on an inhale feeling perplexed. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that around Fred.”

“Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” You say, choking slightly on the smoke.

“Well I don't know baby -” Eddie says in a slow teasing voice, pushing off the van to stand in front of you, warm hands resting on your hips, bringing your pelvis towards his own. “- I can’t say I blame him, the things I'd do to get an upskirt photo of you.” 

This time you roll your eyes, but can’t ignore the heat coursing through your veins at his touch.

“You’re such a pervert Munson.” You mutter.

“Guilty as charged.” He grins, lifting your hand with the cigarette to his mouth, taking a long drag whilst maintaining eye contact; it makes your knees go weak. “You keep looking at me like that princess, you'll find out just how perverted I am.” He warns breathing out the smoke.

“Maybe I want to find out.” You say with a coquettish smile, pressing your hips forward to brush over his crotch, placing a lingering kiss on the pulse point in his neck.

Eddie snatches the cigarette out of your hand, stubbing it quickly under his sneaker with his own, yanking the passenger door open.

“In. Now.” He commands, eyes black with lust.

“Why?” You ask innocently, but your heart is thumping violently, blood rushing straight to your cunt.

“Because sweetheart, we’re going for a drive and then I'm going to fuck your mouth.” He says darkly.

Eddie had driven you close to Skull Rock. The ride had been intense, neither of you talking, he hadn't even bothered to put the radio on; four days of pent up sexual frustration bubbling just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any minute.

Eddie took your hand as he pulled you through the woods, the grip almost painful in his haste to get you alone, you're about to ask where exactly he's heading when he stops dead, causing you to bump into his back.

"Ok. Here's good." He says breathlessly, barely giving you a moment to register your surroundings before he's backing you up against a tree trunk, lips attacking you with the same ferocity as in the darkroom.

We have got to stop fucking around outside, you think to yourself, wincing as the tree bark scrapes against your back.

"You still want me to fuck your bratty little mouth princess?" He asks, biting none too gently at your earlobe.

"Please." You say weakly.

He beams at you, kissing you quickly again before stepping backwards.

“Get on your knees for me baby.” He says, the air of authority back in his voice.

You sink immediately like some invisible force is pushing you down, kneeling on the leaf strewn ground, looking up at Eddie; he slips his thumb into your mouth, a shiver rippling through him as you suck on it.

“So fucking pretty.” He breathes out, awe-struck, thumb leaving your mouth with a string of saliva.

You reach up, hands trembling slightly as you unbuckle his belt, trying to focus on the task at hand but Eddie is making it difficult with the way he’s looking at you; like you’re the most precious thing in the world but also like he wants to eat you alive.

You pull his pants and boxers down enough to unleash his length, taking him in your hand you find he’s already impossibly hard, making your mouth water. Pumping him steadily, kitten licking teasingly at the red and swollen tip, before placing soft kisses all the way down to his balls and back again.

“Open your mouth princess.” He instructs roughly.

You lick your lips before tucking them over your teeth, tongue stroking the underside of his cock as you take the first half of him without issue, moving slowly back and forth his cock throbbing in your mouth  

“Fuck. Take me in sweetheart, all the way.” He growls, hand moving to gather your hair up into his fist, his hips jumping forward allowing his cock to slip all the way to the back of your throat, a small gag and shudder running through you.

“That’s it, good girl.” He growls encouragingly.

He holds you there for a moment by your makeshift ponytail, and god help you, you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties; a low heaviness making your inner walls clench. You dip your fingers below the waistband of your jeans, to rub slowly at your bud. 

“Want me to fuck your throat?” He asks again, and you whine around his length, trying to nod. “Ok, breathe through your nose baby, just breathe.” 

Eddie begins to slide in and out, using the hold on your hair to keep your head tilted up, his lust-blown eyes focused on your face. You’re drooling, each thrust of hips making his cock kiss the back of your throat, your fingers moving quickly over your clit moaning around him.

“Oh fuck, do that again, moan for me again sweetheart.” He pleads, you moan again as instructed, his grip on your hair tightening almost to the point of pain, making your eyes water.

He thrusts quicker and harder, thoroughly fucking your mouth, your nose meeting with the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

“Fuck yes, keep breathing princess, you’re doing so well for me.” He pants. “Look at you taking my cock like a fucking pro.” 

You whimper, a fresh rush of wetness coating your fingers, swirling it around your swollen clit so close to cumming, rising up slightly higher on your knees to give your hand more space to work. Eddie notices your movements, his breath hitching, cock jumping in your mouth.

“Jesus you getting off to this sweetheart? He laughs wildly, eyes wide in adoration. “You like me using your mouth like a fucking whore?” You try to nod again, gagging, choking on your own desperate moans.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby. Is that what you want princess, want me to cum down your throat?” His thrusts are getting sloppy, cock filling your stretched mouth at a brutal depth. “You wanna swallow my cum sweetheart?” He groans.

“Mhmm.” You moan heavily in response, feeling your own orgasm break, hips rocking as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, fuck, take it, swallow it all.” He begs, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue, pooling at the back of your throat. 

"Oh my god." He says, his thumb tracing across your swollen lips once more as you swallow. 

  He drops to his knees in front of you so suddenly that you think he's fainted, until he grabs the nap of your neck and pulls you in, kissing you so passionately it's borderline violent. 

"You alright?" He pants, both of you sucking down air as you break away.

"Yeah." You whisper croakily.

"It wasn't too much? I didn't hurt you?" He asks caressing the sides of your throat with gentle hands, eyes searching yours.

"No, it was good. I'm good." You smile, feeling immensely proud of yourself.

"More like fucking outstanding sweetheart." He breathes out, kissing along your jaw. "Should give you a trophy."

You flush in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment at his praise.

"Somehow I don't think my dad would be too happy about having it on the mantle." You say, and you both burst out laughing, Eddie's hands still holding you tenderly about the neck.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you." You mumble, ducking your head to place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Water under the bridge sweetheart." He grins. "Come on, let's get you home." Holding out a helping hand to you as he stands.

Eddie shuts off the van two blocks from your house, you had enjoyed smoking and singing along to KISS on the way back from Skull Rock, the awkwardness and tension seemingly resolved, allowing you to remember why you had liked spending time with him to begin with, even before all this.

"So-” He says slowly, hands shifting across the steering wheel nervously. “my uncle is working a double shift tomorrow night, did you - uh - maybe wanna come over and hang out?"

"Hang out?" You repeat, your tone full of insinuation given what had just happened between you.

"Mind out of the gutter sweetheart, I am not that kind of guy." He says, acting scandalized, you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "Ok, so I am that kind of guy, but I genuinely mean to hang out. We can order a pizza, have a couple of beers, smoke some weed, and watch a movie. Get back on track, I'll even get us some snacks." He coaxes.

The little alarm bell was ringing shrilly in your head again telling you it was a bad idea, the whole thing was too familiar, that there was no way you'd be able to just hang out with Eddie.

"What kind of snacks?" You ask with a small smile, effectively chucking the alarm out the window.

"Whatever you want princess." He grins broadly.

"Red Vines, none of that Twizzler shit."

"Done."

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[listofwhyyouloveher]

Ok this is my last one but Rusty James (sorry I'm madly inlove with him) smut after a big fight he had with some random dude and he comes to your house so you can patch him up but while your patching him up he starts kissing you and it just escalates from there ?

Summary: In which Rusty James comes to find you after a fight. Warnings: smut Author's Note: im going to see 21 savage next thursday!! “You look like shit” Was the first thing you said to Rusty as he stumbled into your house after a big fight with Biff. When he moved his hand you winced at the blood. “I know,” He says, eyes looking anywhere but at you. You bring out your first aid kit and immediately get to work. You work in silence, soft hands touching his blood-stained stomach and side, listening to every heart-beat and breath from your boyfriend. As soon as you finish bandaging him, you speak. “You scare me.” He looks up at you, confused at your words. “I don’t like how you get cut to ribbons every other Tuesday and then you go out and do it again.” He sucks in a breath, like he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t wanna lose you.” You remove your shaking hands from his bandages and cross your arms, more as defense than defiance. “Doll..” His hand strokes your face, moving some hair from your eyes. You sniffle, tears brimming your eyes. “Oh don’t cry, doll. I promise I won't fight as much anymore.” “Promise?” You rub your eyes, letting out one gasping sob before regaining your composure. “Promise.” It’s not like you didn’t expect this to happen, it actually happens everytime you patch Rusty up. But today, it felt all the more passionate. You were lying on your stomach, ass up and hips meeting Rusty’s every thrust. You moaned, high and whiny, relishing in the feeling of him throbbing inside you. “Feel good?” He whispers in your ear. You let out a breathy moan in response, clenching around him. His pace increases and so does the speed of your heart. It felt like you were about to explode from pleasure. “Ple-please” you cried, hands gripping the bedsheets and whatever you could grab. With one harsh thrust, he had you cumming on his cock and collapsing because you were so fucked out. “Good job, baby,” He sighed with pleasure, pulling out from your aching cunt. “Now you’ve sealed the deal.” You turn back to him, watching him wipe sweat from his brow. “Hm?” He asked. “No more fights, you’ve promised.” You winked at him. He just scoffed and pressed your face lightly into the pillow.

[misc-obeyme]

HELLO I'M HERE TO RAMBLE ABOUT MC'S MORTALITY. I have literally been grinding event battles and coins and such all day because the power up campaign ends today (I'm under 200 in rank NB wise but geez it's getting harder to keep up)

anyway I always think about what happens to mc after/if they did die. like I love sam's/still-a-moronsexual's interpretation of mc not being entirely human for one

but there's different levels/circles of hell in the Devildom, and that the devildom and the celestial realm are separate from the traditional heaven/hell if I remember correctly? like what happens to mc in the event they do pass on. Everyone says they have a shiny soul. And would mc keep their memories after passing?

Like everyone has different beliefs and I'm just rambling, but there's reincarnation for one. Sometimes I think about Michael and if we'll ever meet him, and if he'd go so far as to pull strings to get mc into the celestial realm (everyone wants the once powerful mortal on their side). And imagine him making sure to keep mc's info access limited, but then let's say luke catches a glimpse and tells the brothers. Imagine mc doesn't remember the brothers either, but there's this dull tug in their gut when they see these demons. Painful angst. (And if mc DID keep their memories, would they immediately choose to fall? Imagine your fave catches you. like I think my mc would stick around to get info and out of curiosity, but would secretly be planning to fall. Even if it was painful, it'd be worth it to them.)

or mc ends up in the devildom because of how big of a tie they have. I wonder if they would/could become an Avatar, and what if they did. Despair possibly? Would they be a regular demon, or have a special power perhaps? Diavolo would probably give them a noble title. but also, ANGST IF THEY HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF ANYTHING. Diavolo early in NB said something about knowing almost every demon, so I wonder if he meets new people to help them get set up?? aha imagine he lets them stay at the castle, and mc wanders off, and bumps into someone they used to know. chaos

There's also the possibility they could become immortal I'm sure with a spell or Solomon's cooking. Or maybe their lifespan is just longer than a humans by a hundred years or so. They simply cherish the time they have, but suddenly they're aging past 120 and they're sweating internally. Solomon I think has talked about feeling like he loses/lost touch with his humanity, until he met mc. I wonder if mc would go through the same if they ended up truly immortal

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG SORRY, BUT THIS IS MY LAST AND FAVORITE IDEA. The three worlds couldn't decide what happens to mc, like this is the first time this has happened. Huge arguments. Sometimes i think about the good place show when I'm brainstorming. ANYWAY, mc becomes a reaper. No one gets their soul. They are now in charge of collecting them, and reapers are sorta neutral right? It's a compromise for everyone. Thirteen is overjoyed. Mc with a scythe, what will they do? Or the night dagger lol

the obey me manga comes out on tuesday i think, I'm probably hitting the bookstore on Thursday. and while I could order it online, something about finding it on the shelf is so fun. I literally finished king of wrath on friday, and read almost the entirety of king of pride on Saturday, and now I'm on king of greed. My friend is concerned with how fast I read because we have a book tracking app that allows buddy reads lol

HAVE A GOOD DAY CC, MANIFESTING YOUR NEXT TEN PULL HAS TWO UR+ CARDS

- ✨ anon

AH thank you, ✨ anon, I need all the luck I can get lol!!

Now see the interesting thing about all of this is that the game doesn't really specify. I do think they have implied that hell is a separate place from the Devildom (aka the Underworld where Solomon walked through the rings and Luci got trapped in the ice). So presumably if MC died and went to hell, they wouldn't actually end up in the Devildom itself. I don't remember if they've implied the same for heaven and the Celestial Realm, but it seems likely that it would be the case.

Personally I like the idea of reincarnation but MC just... keeps being reincarnated as a human on earth lol. Like every time MC dies, the others have to find them again. And they don't remember each life. Though if this happens enough perhaps Solomon or somebody comes up with a spell that can restore all their memories.

I do think it'd be interesting if Michael intervened and somehow got MC to be in the Celestial Realm, especially if they had no memories of the Devildom and everything. Imagine being an angel and then suddenly you get those memories back and you're like, that's it, I'm falling.

Which leads me to the question of how does one fall?

They don't really get into the specifics of that, either. Can you choose to fall? Or do you just do terrible things with the hope that the consequence will be banishment to the Devildom?? I have thoughts about this, but it's all just personal headcanon stuff.

I do think it makes sense for MC to just sorta end up in the Devildom because yo that's basically their home now, you know?

I tend to headcanon that due to the pacts and the "ring" and everything else MC has been through, they have enough magic interfering with their usual biology that they're probably already immortal. Just because that makes sense to me. I also think Solomon probably knows a way to make them immortal if they really wanted to be. vampire!MC lol

AHHH reaper!MC!! Thirteen would be thrilled!! They don't really give us a whole lot of info about the reapers either, but I headcanon that they're neutral and somewhat outside of the whole Devildom vs Celestial Realm situation. I have a lot of ideas about this, but again it's all personal headcanon.

So I think any of these options are possible! And it's certainly fun to think about all the ways in which MC's death might be dealt with. Somehow I don't think we're gonna get anything like that in canon, but I guess you never know!

Ah I love reading, I used to read so much... now I don't read as much as I used to because I'm spending all my time writing al;kdfkjfd. But yes the manga I read the first free chapter they had, but maybe I will buy the book itself...

Anyway, I love all these ideas and I think it's fascinating to think about all of these possibilities!

[neoneun-au]

doyoung + positive + urban fantasy 🫶

ok its done and i really dont know how i feel about it tbh fhcdjh hopefully you like it well enough tho !! its the closest to fluff i ever really get lol

witch!doyoung x witch!reader | light urban fantasy au, doctor au, fluff | 1.1k words

“The doctor will see you now,” Yeri, the clinic nurse, grins at you–smile sparkling like the periwinkle wings on her back. You thank her and head down the hallway towards the usual examination room, eyes glancing over the array of posters adorning the walls. 

Trouble Shifitng? We Can Help! Talk to your Doctor today

Are You Experiencing Wing Droop? 

Cursed By A Witch? Get it Lifted. Tuesday-Thursday at our Auxiliary Clinic Downtown! 

You slip off your coat and bag and hop onto the exam table, paper crinkling under your weight as you adjust before settling down and waiting. It only takes a few minutes in the sanitized silence of the room before the door swings open and Doyoung enters, brow creased in thought as he reads over your chart. He looks up at you and the expression shifts–first to one of happiness, then a flutter of worry, until it settles finally on the pursed lips and drawn eyes of annoyance. 

“I told you I wouldn’t have time to visit as much this week, the clinic has been busy and–”

“Dr. Kim, is that any way to talk to a patient?” you tease, pausing him before the lecture gets too far along. 

“You made an appointment?” He looks suspicious, likely recalling the numerous times you had cajoled Yeri to let you into the back of the clinic to see him without warning. You nod in the affirmative, but the suspicion remains clear on his face. “For an actual, medical reason?” You nod again. He sighs in resignation, setting your file down and moving to wash his hands. You watch him, evaluating the tired droop of his shoulders and the lines of worry creasing at the corners of his eyes. A small pang of guilt reverberates through your core, maybe you should have waited to see him, but then you remember your reasons and swallow the guilt back down before it resurfaces. 

“Alright,” he starts, “what seems to be the issue?”

“Well, I’ve been having these strange heart palpitations and it’s causing some sparking in the fingers–” you start and his eyes widen. 

“They have? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” The mood in the room shifts markedly, worry leaking out through his aura and probing at the edges of your own. “How long has this been happening?” He removes the stethoscope from around his neck, placing it over your heart while you talk. 

“I don’t know, it’s only been a few days and it wasn’t that bad. You seemed pretty busy and Yeri said you didn’t have any appointments until now so I just kept an eye on it,” you mutter your excuses while he picks up your hands, turning them over in his own gloved ones. You watch his forehead as he examines your fingertips–hands gentle and familiar even while encased in latex. 

“You could have seen a different doctor, I would have preferred if you got it looked at as soon as it started.” He presses his thumb into a couple of soft spots on your palm and you feel the heat of magic pulsing just under the skin of your fingertips at his touch. 

“But you’re my favourite witch doctor,” you pout and he sighs, placing your hand back on your lap. 

“You’ve gotta stop calling me that,” he says, taking the penlight out from his front pocket. “Look to your left.” 

The light shines and disappears, shines and disappears. You take a moment to let your vision return to normal before speaking. “Why? You are both of those things.” 

“Yes, but ‘witch doctor’ has some…strange connotations depending on who you’re talking to,” he shakes his head, returning the light to his pocket and settling down on the stool in front of you. 

“Ok, you’re my favourite doctor who is also a witch by mere coincidence.” You reach over to ruffle his hair and he bats you away but you see the hint of a smile quirking up the corner of his lips. 

He continues to work in silence, broken only by the occasional instruction to breathe in or out. The metal of the stethoscope, usually so cold against your skin, is warm to the touch and you smile at the thought of him enchanting it before attending to you. A few minutes pass and he pulls out a pen and pad of paper. 

“I’m writing you a requisition for blood work,” he says, tearing the paper from the pad and placing the note into the palm of your hand. “Please do me a favour and actually get it done this time, I don’t want to have to remind you.” 

“You got it, Doc,” you smile, tucking the paper into your coat pocket knowing that he will remind you about it later whether or not you remember. “Can I ask for one more thing before you move onto the next patient?”

He raises an eyebrow in questioning, hands stalled in the midst of removing his gloves, “is there something else going on?”

“No, it’s just a little prescription I’ve been waiting for,” you smile, pleased at the blatant confusion on his face and the absence of the tired worry that was previously taking up residence in the corners of his eyes. 

“What sort of prescription?” 

“Oh, nothing I haven’t had before,” you hum, kicking your heels against the table as you string him along. “Just a kiss.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes but leaning in anyway. His lips meet yours and the familiar warmth and tenderness in the action urges you to smile into the kiss. He pulls away after a second, short but sweet, and matches your smile with one of his own. One you’ve barely seen the ghost of for the past few days.

“Do I get any refills?” you tease, hopping off the table to stand in front of him. 

“Yes, but you can only have them every 4-6 hours.” He turns to open the door for you, holding it while you brush past him into the hallway. 

“Okay, fine,” you wave him off, already heading down the hallways towards reception, “I’ll see you at home.” You start to round the corner out of his line of sight but an insistent thud against your thigh as you walk reminds you of your other reason for visiting him. “Wait, Doie–”

“I told you not to call me that at work,” he frowns when you march up to him but you dismiss it with a wave of your hand before reaching into your bag and tugging out the tupperware you brought. 

“I figured you wouldn’t have much time to eat so I brought you something.” 

He pops open the lid, examining the contents for a second before snapping it shut again with a quiet smile, “I knew there was a reason I married you.” 

“Don’t forget to heat it up,” you remind, planting a final kiss on his lips. Just in time for the distinct wailing of a teething vampire toddler to sound out from the waiting room. He sighs and you pat his shoulder in support. “Good luck.” 

[gretavangroupie]

Burn (Chapter 2)

Word count: 7.5k+

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, drinking, smut, fluff.

Burn Playlist

SAM POV

I’m gonna do it.

You’re unsure how you’ve even made it this long. Monday and Tuesday you convinced yourself it was too soon. Wednesday you were so wiped from work that you missed your window of opportunity, silently kicking yourself. But now, Thursday has come along and you’re all out of excuses. 

You have pulled that little business card from your wallet more times than you care to admit, just running your fingers over the shiny embossed letters of her name. The corners of the card rolled and tattered as if it’s been there for months. Each time quickly shoving it back into the tiny leather slot after you’d talked yourself out of it. But this time you don’t. This time you type the ten numbers into the text box and watch it turn blue. 

You: Drinks tomorrow?

You hit send and feel your heart start to race. 

It’s casual. No feelings. You’re not doing anything wrong.

When you see the banner flash across the top of the screen a few minutes later, you click on it, and swallow nervously at the reply.

Her: Sam, it’s Thursday night. What if I already have plans?

You: You cancel them.

Her: I said I could be convinced, not that I was. 

Shit.

You: We both know that you want to.

Her: And Morgan….

You: Not a concern.

Her: I don’t know Sam…

You: It’s just drinks. One drink.

You see the text bubble pop up as she types her response, but then it disappears. After a few minutes with no reply, you take that as your answer.

Sliding your phone into the front pocket of your shirt you slide the rolling chair away from the mixing board and stretch your arms over your head before standing up. You run your hands through your hair, pushing it away from your face as you make eye contact with Josh through the window. You give him the hand signal that you’re heading out with a thumb over the shoulder. He lifts his hand at you as a goodbye and you grab your keys and dip out of the side door of the studio. 

Your phone rings through the bluetooth of the car and you can’t help but let your mind jump to the idea that it could be her. Your eyes flick to the display and you see a name, but it’s not hers.

Morgan.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hi babe! How was it today?” she asks.

You sigh, “It was fine, just a little fine tuning. What are you up to?” you ask.

“Oh nothing, just calling to see if you want me to come over tonight. Or we can do tomorrow?” she asks.

“No, not tomorrow, I have a work thing tomorrow.” you lie.

Strike one.

“Okay, so tonight?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah if you want to you can.” you reply.

“What’s wrong? You sound off?” she says.

“Nothing. Nothing, I am fine, was just a long day. You can come over, sorry I am being short with you.” you say. 

“Okay, well I will be there in a bit. See you soon.” she says.

“Ok lovely.” you say hanging up the call. You pull your phone from your pocket clicking on your texts. 

Still nothing.

Frustrated, you speed the rest of the way home, just needing a few minutes of peace before the rest of the night begins. 

When Morgan arrives an hour later you seem to forget about not getting a reply. Afterall, Morgan is your girlfriend. Not her. You eat dinner together and spend the evening watching a movie before you feel her hands wandering closer to your bare stomach under the blankets.

Your cock twitches as her fingers slide down your stomach meeting the button of your pants.  You can't help but let your mind wander back just a few nights ago when a new, but familiar touch grazed the same area of your exposed midsection, igniting a feeling much different. 

A feeling you’ve never quite gotten to with Morgan. A feeling years in the making, stifled down by your own stupidity.

Snapping you back to reality, your phone buzzes in your pocket and your stomach drops.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” you say, standing up, making your way to the hall bathroom. The click clack of Rosie’s nails on the hardwood floor following behind you.

Once inside you pull your phone from your pocket and sure enough, those ten numbers light up the screen.

Her: Time and place?

Fuck yes.

You: Blue Door, 8:00?

Her: I’ll see you there.

Smiling to yourself you shove the phone back into your pocket, and return back to the living room.

“Hey, babe. I think I am ready to go to bed. I had a long day.” you say, hoping she won't put up a fight tonight. 

“Okay….” she replies, obviously annoyed.

Things with Morgan have been rocky but constant. In the beginning it was fiery and passionate and everything you’d want in a relationship. You had just moved to Nashville and met her out one night, and things really went from there.  But, as time has progressed, things have become more loose and tense, not exactly in the good way. You are gone a lot, traveling and she sometimes has a problem with that. She has needs that you are physically unable to satisfy sometimes, and her for you when you are gone for months at a time. When you both agreed to an open relationship it didn’t come without its rules. So far neither of you had broken them, but that was before. Before LA, before the plane, before the bar, before your thoughts had been consumed by a girl you knew so long ago. Now you aren't so sure that these rules will be as easy to follow. And mostly you’re not sure if you want to follow them.

Crawling into bed, you cuddle up behind Morgan, closing your eyes and anxiously thinking about the possibility of what tomorrow may hold, all while holding someone else.

It’s truly been one of the longest Fridays of your life. It seemed like nothing was going right at the studio, everything had to be redone multiple times, everyone was in a pissy mood, and somehow it was only 3pm. You wonder if it's partly due to the fact that you have been mentally absent all day, daydreaming about your evening plans. Trying to shake her from your head you refocus and get through the rest of the session. 

Come 7:00 you are getting into the shower and thinking about what you are going to wear. You’ve never been someone who cares what a woman thinks of your outfit, but for some reason, tonight, you do. You run your comb through your hair, letting it dry in waves around your face. You opt for black jeans, and a floral button down, that has recently been your favorite. A quick spray of cologne and you are ready to go.

“Bye Rosie, I will be back soon, okay?” you say, patting the top of her head, lounging on the edge of the couch. You grab your keys from the hook and you’re out the door.

You are set to arrive exactly at 8:00. You hate to be late, but what is the use in being early either? As you pull into the parking lot you slide your phone from your pocket, swiping up and placing it on do not disturb. You place it back in your pocket and you take a deep breath as you turn off the car and walk inside. 

Why am I so nervous?

HER POV

Go, go, go, go…

Of course you get off work late today, of all the Fridays you get off at 3, today is the one you get off at 5. After spending well over an hour debating an outfit you finally decided. You're not even sure why you care, he is just a friend. A really really good looking friend, but a friend nonetheless. Plus he has a girlfriend, or something like that….maybe you’ll get to the bottom of that tonight. 

Your tires are basically screeching into the parking lot as your eyes flick to the clock. 

8:10. Shit. Whatever. It’s just drinks… you’re… fashionably late…

Stepping out of your car, your boots crunch against the gravel parking lot of Blue Door. This little bar is one of the east side's best kept secrets. You’re actually shocked you’ve never seen any of the guys here before. 

You pull the door open, and it's busy, but not crowded. Music is playing loudly through the small bar, and you scan the room, looking for Sam. You walk a little further inside, looking around but still nothing. 

Maybe he’s not here yet.

You step up to the bar and order a vodka soda, feeling slightly nervous about how the night will playout. You promised yourself, one drink.

The bartender passes you your drink and you squeeze the lime into it, stirring it around with the straw. You step away from the bar and walk to the back of the bar to see if maybe he is back there somewhere, and much to your surprise you spot him at a small table in the corner.

He is sitting casually with his legs crossed, sipping his drink. His eyes flick up and catch yours, a soft smirk crossing his lips.

As you approach him, he pushes the chair across from him, out with his foot. 

“Well, look who decided to show up…” he says smugly.

“Oh please I am ten minutes late…Today of all days I didn't get off at 3. Then you know, Nashville traffic is a bitch….anyways, I finally made it…” you reply, sipping your drink nervously.

“No problem, did you have fun with Lauren in town last week?” he asks.

“Yeah I did, it was really nice to see her. Its been a while. It seems her and Daniel made up after all these years.” you laugh.

“Oh yeah, he hasn't shut up all week.” he laughs.

Warmth creeps through your chest hearing his laugh. It’s been years since you heard that laugh that is unmistakably his. 

You think back to highschool, right before prom all of you were in the car together. Sam and Danny were in the front, you and Lauren were in the back. Belting out every word to TikTok by Ke$ha. You were all laughing and you think that might be the first time you really felt like you had feelings for him. That was of course before he left you at the Prom and stomped on your heart. You know Sam would never admit to knowing the words to that song now. He is much to cool for that. You wonder if he still knows them.

You are snapped back to the present, when you hear him repeating your name.

“Hello… are you still there?” he says, snapping his fingers around your face.

“Oh yeah, sorry…” you say laughing.

“Jeeze, one drink and you’re already getting spacy on me…” he jokes.

“Just lost in thought for a second, it was a long day.” you reply.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks.

Hmmm. Do you lie or tell the truth and risk embarrassing yourself….

You take the last gulp of your drink, and smirk down at him.

“Do you remember when we all sang that Ke$ha song in the car? I think you sang it the loudest….” you say.

You see his eyes light up a little, “Off the record… yeah I remember. Daniel knows that we never speak of that moment.” he laughs. “Is that what you were thinking about?”

“Yeah, I don't know why, your laugh just reminded me of it for some reason.” you say sheepishly.

He sips the last of his drink, “Mhmm back when you had a crush on me…” he says smirking smugly.

“Mhmm back when you had a crush on me, back…” you quip. “Are we getting another drink or not?” 

“I only bartered for one, but if you are feeling two, who am I to object?” he says standing up.

You shake your head and stand, walking back to the front bar, with him following behind you.

Suddenly he is walking next to you, his hand placed on the small of your back. A place he seems to have a certain affinity for, so you let him.

As you step up to the bar to order, he turns to you, “want to do a shot?” he asks.

“What kind?” you reply, knowing it won't make a difference. His big brown eyes and honey laced voice could say poison and you’d do it anyway. He has always had that effect on you. Even after all these years, but you couldn't let him know that.

“Tequila or Whiskey, your choice.” he smiles.

“Tequila.” you answer.

“My kinda girl…”  he says.

“You wish…” you reply.

“Sometimes.” he says, handing you the tiny plastic cup.

Sometimes?

You grab your other drink and your shot, and make your way back to the table in the back.

As you both sit, he nods his head silently asking if you’re ready and you nod. You both throw them back and you see his face wince, which is kind of endearing.

“You know Sam, for someone who loves to have their photo taken on stage with your pretty little drinks, you should at least be able to handle a shot of tequila…” you say.

“And just how would you know that? Do you keep tabs on me?” he asks, smugly.

“I searched your little band up once…” you say snarkily, knowing that the ‘little band’ comment will get under his skin and you are right.

“Little band? If your research proved successful you would know we are not just a little band anymore….” he says, almost arrogantly.

“Oh Sam, I’m just fucking with you…” you say patting the top of his hand.

“Not yet you’re not…maybe later…” he says sipping his drink with a sly grin.

“Samuel!” you scoff.

“What?” he asks coyly, taking a gulp of his drink. 

You can tell the shot is starting to set in for the both of you, his eyes have grown darker and more hooded, his skin a little flushed. You are feeling it too, but the feeling you’re feeling is desire and it's greatest between your legs. 

This new more mysterious version of Sam is hot and you are dying to know more.

“So tell me about Jimmy.” he asks, leaning forward on the table.

What?

“Oh, getting right to it, ok. How about you tell me about Morgan first.” you quip back.

“What’s there to tell, I think you know pretty well what there is to know.” he replies.

“Then I could say the same about Jimmy.” you snap back, cutting your eyes at him.

“Ok, fine. Morgan and I have been together off and on for a few years.” he says.

“Uh huh, and where does she think you are at… 9pm on a Friday night?” you ask suspiciously.

“She knows I am busy,” he replies.

“Why did you want to get drinks Sam?” you ask.

The vodka and shot has definitely entered your bloodstream.

He smirks at you, “You know, to catch up with an old friend…”

“Is that not what we did last weekend?” you ask.

“Not quite, I…couldn’t exactly catch up how I wanted to…” he replies.

“And how do you want to catch up….” you ask.

“Like this… just us… no…interruptions.” he says, running his long, calloused index finger down the side of your hand.

You swallow harshly at the electricity of his touch, as his eyes flick to yours, somehow even darker than a few minutes ago.

“Do you feel that too?” he asks.

“Feel what?” you reply.

“Don’t play dumb with me, we both know you are an intelligent woman.” he replies sternly.

Don’t do it. Do not answer him. Change the subject. You won’t be the other woman.

“Fine.” you reply.

Stupid tequila shot.

“Fine what?” he asks, tracing the outline of your hand on the table.

“Fine, you can buy me one more drink, and then I am going home.” you reply, snatching your hand away from the table. 

“We’ll see.” He says, standing up and sauntering off to the bar.

You pull out your phone, and scroll through your texts. Lauren of course is chomping at the bit to know what is happening, so you quickly shoot her a text letting her know you were just catching up, and nothing is happening.

Then you move on and see a text from Jimmy. You roll your eyes…

This man is annoyingly persistent.

Jimmy: You out tonight?

Sam comes walking up behind you and around the table setting your drink down on the little black napkin.

“So, are you fucking him?” he asks.

Taken aback by the question you shift in your seat. 

“Well come right out with it…No.” you reply truthfully.

“Do you want to fuck him?” he asks.

“No.” you answer.

“Why?” he asks.

“I already did. He was a lousy lay and he obviously doesn't feel the same, and I can't say I blame him. What is with the twenty questions Sam?” you ask.

“Why do you keep calling me Sam? Why don't you call me Sammy?” he asks intensely.

“Sam is your name isn’t it?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“You never called me Sam. You always called me Sammy.” he barks back.

“Things change Sam.” you reply.

“Not that.” he says.

You shrug your shoulders, and the warmth of the alcohol has finally enveloped you completely. 

“You always get your way…don’t you?” you say, your words slurring together.

Any filter you had left has clearly gone out the window.

“Only with things I really want.” he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“And what do you really want, Sam?” you ask.

“You know exactly what I want, and you want it too.” he says, his knee rubbing against yours under the small table.

“Oh yeah? You want another drink?” you ask playfully.

“I thought you said you were leaving after that one?” he asks smugly.

“Maybe soon…” you reply, tossing back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the table, and staring directly into his eyes.

“You can’t drive…” he states.

“I’m not planning on it.” you reply, tilting your head to the side.

“Come with me.” he says, standing up, pulling your arm up with him, before sliding his hand down to yours.

You follow behind him to the hallway near the bathrooms and he stops you, spinning you to press you against the brick wall. 

“Tell me. Tell me right now, that you don’t feel it and I will walk out of here and we never have to speak again.” he says, his hands boxing you in, his face inches from yours. “Or, tell me you do, and we can leave right now and finish what we started years ago.”

“We can’t Sam, what about Morgan…” you reply.

“Stop worrying about her. It’s a non issue. Yes or no.” he says.

Do the right thing. Do the right thing…

“It will be our secret?” you ask, almost whispering against his lips.

“If that’s what you want.” he answers.

“Okay. Yes.” you say.

He closes the gap between you crushing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face, cold from resting on the brick wall. The coldness offering relief to your alcohol warmed skin. 

His lips move against yours soft and plush. He tastes like tequila and lime and everything you imagined he would since you were 17 years old in the back of his parents Grand Cherokee. You melt into him so effortlessly, your will to fight the feelings you’ve been pretending aren’t there,  completely slipping away as the kiss intensifies.

He pulls away, “Let’s go.” he says, sliding his hand around your waist and ushering you out the front door.

“Don't you need to close out?” you ask.

“I closed out with the last round. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you much longer.” he says, opening his car door and letting you slide in. 

He slips around the back and opens the driver side door, climbing in, and throwing the car into reverse pulling out of the parking lot.

His hand sneaks across the arm rest and rests on the top of your thigh, the heat from his hand warm on your skin. 

You look over to him, his long hair in perfect waves down his back, his shirt unbuttoned slightly more than it should be, giving you a glimpse as to what's underneath.

You feel your arousal pooling between your legs as his hand slowly travels up higher on your thigh, inch by inch. 

It’s a short drive from the bar to his house. As you pull into the driveway, you are met with a white brick house, with beautiful uplighting and a well manicured yard. The lights are on inside the house, the windows glowing yellow from where you sit. 

Sam gets out, and comes around to open the door for you, taking your hand in his. He leads you to a side door that looks like it opens into his kitchen. His house is beautiful. Its an older home that has been renovated to a very modern and eclectic style. Somehow it’s just… effortlessly Sam. As you step inside the door you hear a dog start to bark. 

Oh gosh, you forgot about his dog!

Seconds later, Rosie comes bounding to the door, all wiggles and tail wags.

“Hi baby, hi, yeah I missed you too, yeah we have a visitor! You remember her?” he says in a playful baby voice while patting and rubbing her head and ears.

You squat down to say hello and are instantly attacked with wet licks and nose prints on your face. Your laughing only seems to spur her on more. 

“I think it’s safe to say she remembers.” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you to stand up. He backs you up against his kitchen island by your hips and slides his hands up your body until they are resting on your neck. 

“I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about this exact moment far more often than I should have for the past two weeks.” he says pressing his lips to yours softly, and almost too passionately for the short amount of time that has passed since your kiss in the bar only thirty minutes ago.The searing shock of electricity passed through every nerve in your body at the connection of his lips to yours. 

You pull your lips away from him, “Then quit talking, and kiss me.” you say before sliding your hands into his long thick hair, pressing your lips back to his. A groan leaves his mouth as you scratch your fingernails lightly against his scalp.

You can feel his hardened length pressing into your stomach as he continues to kiss you. 

And you press yourself into it, eliciting a hiss from his mouth. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you away from the counter, walking you backwards through the kitchen, before pulling his lips from yours, spinning your body in his hands and pushing you down the hallway to his bedroom. 

His bedroom is exactly how you expected it to be, it's warmly lit with fluffy linens on the bed in neutral colors and plants lining the window sill. A plush oriental rug sits underneath the edge of the bed, and a vintage mid century modern bedroom set fills the space.

As you step deeper into the room, you turn to sit on the edge of the bed. Sam shuts the door behind him, before sliding his shirt over his head revealing the rest of his torso. He kicks his shoes off and you do the same. 

He walks over to you and crawls over top of you, forcing you down onto the bed. He hovers over you staring at you, before his hand sweeps the hair away from your neck. Leaning down he places a soft open mouthed kiss right over the pulse in your neck. 

“Your heart is beating fast.” he  whispers against your skin, running the tip of his nose across your jaw line. 

You wrap your hand around his wrist and feel his own pulse raging against your fingers.

“So is yours…” you reply.

He trails kisses down your neck, his tongue darting out over your clavicle and you squirm beneath him at the sensation. He comes up to his knees and his hands find the buttons on the front of your blouse. He painstakingly slowly unbuttons each button making sure to take his time, teasing you. 

“Hurry up, Sam.” you beg.

“Oh no, I am going to take my time. Savor every second of this…” he replies.

When he finally reaches the last button, he opens the fabric revealing your plum colored lace bra that barely hides your nipples. A groan leaves his mouth as his fingers slide down the straps on each side, hooking his fingers into them and pulling them down your shoulders. 

He runs his index finger straight down from your throat, crossing your sternum before descending to your stomach passing over your belly button and stopping when he reaches the top of your skirt. A shudder runs through your body as it tells you it needs more.

“Impatient?” he asks.

“Take it off Sam.” you instruct.

“I will, I’m just enjoying watching you underneath me.” he says, leaning over, placing a wet kiss on the swell of your breast.

Your back arches into his mouth as his left hand slides under the fabric of your skirt, his fingers skimming the hem of your panties. His fingers slide under the band of silky fabric and pull downward, and his right hand scoops your tit from the cup of the bra, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You throw your head back at the feeling and a small whimper leaves your throat. 

“That feel good, baby? Want me to keep going? I haven’t even touched you yet and you are so close to falling apart. We haven’t even gotten to the good part.” he says, licking a warm stripe up your stomach.

“Yes, please, I need more.” you respond.

“I know, I’m gonna give you more. Gonna give you anything you want, just have to be a good girl for me? Can you do that?” he asks. 

Another rush of warmth takes over your center. You know you would do anything this man asked you to and you nod your head yes.

He slides your panties the rest of the way off your legs, before both hands are pulling your skirt down to meet your thong on the rug. You quickly lean up taking your shirt off the rest of the way and unclasping your bra to throw it on the floor. 

His eyes flick to your chest and up to your eyes before they slowly travel down the rest of your body taking in your completely naked form.

“You are fuckin gorgeous.” he says running his hands down your thighs.

He slips himself off the bed and goes to unbuckle his belt. You shoot up, and grab his belt buckle pulling his pelvis closer to you. You stare up at him and begin to undo the belt yourself, never breaking eye contact. You unbutton the button and slide the zipper down on his jeans, placing your hand over his growing bulge before tracing lines up and down with your finger over his length. 

His dick twitches beneath your fingers and you flick your eyes down before pulling at the top of his jeans, dragging his boxers down his legs. He kicks them off to the corner and runs his hand through your hair. 

You wrap your hand around his well endowed length and look back up at him, hearing a small hiss from his mouth as you tighten your grip. You pull him closer to your mouth, parting your lips and letting his dick slide over your flattened tongue, guiding him to the back of your mouth. You wrap your lips around him and the groan that leaves his chest echoes through the room. 

“Oh fuck….your mouth…” he says groaning, trying not to buck his hips into you.

You slide back and forth, working his base with your hand, letting your tongue swirl against his tip. He moans again, as his tip grazes the back of your throat. 

He is obviously very vocal and his audible display of pleasure is lighting you on fire.

He pulls you off of him, and stands you up, grabbing your face and crashing his lips to yours. His tongue finds yours and you both struggle for power over the other. He pushes you back down to the bed, and drags your body up further, slotting his knee between your legs. He bends down and presses a wet kiss to your stomach before returning his mouth to yours. 

“Sam, please…” you beg.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” he says into your mouth.

“Fuck me, Sam…” you breathe.

He aligns himself with your opening and presses into you, groaning as he reaches the hilt.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight. Oh my god.” he pants, his hair hanging in your face.

“God you’re so hot…” you whine.

He pulls out slightly before pounding back into you, groaning with each thrust. 

“Shit, you’re fuckin wet… feel so good…” he says pushing your knee up to your chest, changing the angle and pressing into you deeper.

“You’re so good, such a pretty boy…always have been… so pretty Sam…” you whine.

“Call me Sammy…” he begs.

“No” you pant.

He begins to roll his hips into you, hitting your g spot deliciously, eliciting a scream from your lips.

“Call me Sammy… please… it’s all I want, want to hear you call me Sammy again please baby…” he says, hitting that spot again with another moan of pleasure escaping you. 

“God you’re so fucking beautiful, please baby I am begging.” he says continuing his assault on your g spot. His hair swinging in waves around his face, sweat beading at his temples.

“No, just be a good boy and make me cum Sam…” you cry out.

His eyes grow dark and he stops his movement all together. He aggressively gathers his hair into a bun at the back of his neck, a few strands hanging free around his face.

“Fine, if you want to play that way, I will make you say it.” He says, the tinge of dominance in his voice has you desperately pulling his mouth back to yours, but he stops you. 

He pulls out of you and you groan at the loss. He grabs your hips and flips you over to your front, before scooping you up to rest on your hands and knees, giving your ass a swift slap. The sting, making you groan with anticipation.

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and collects it into a ponytail around his fist, twisting your head to the side.

“I was more than willing to play nice and give you what you wanted. You told me you would be a good girl. Good girls get what they want. But bad girls….bad girls get what I give them.” he says, and with that he is thrusting back into you from behind, maxing out the boundaries within you immediately, causing a groan to leave his chest. 

“Fuck, Sam!” you scream.

He pounds into you from behind, his skin slapping loudly against yours as you near your orgasm. Each thrust pulling a groan of exertion from his chest. His hands grip into your hips viciously pulling you back to meet him.

“Sam, please…I’m so close.” You beg.

“Say it. Say it doll and you can cum.” He manages through panting breaths.

He pounds into that sensitive spot over and over, and you feel yourself fighting for your release. His hand reaches around you, two fingers swirling over your clit, causing you to arch your back into him. 

“Fuck, I’m close. Say it baby. Say it and cum with me. Say it right now.” He demands.

Unable to fight it off any longer, your body lets go and gives in to his demand.

“Sammy…Sammy, fuck….” You cry out, feeling the most intense orgasm you’ve had in years run its course through your body, rendering you practically speechless.

“Finally….” He grunts, as you feel his release pour into you with the jagged thrust of his hips. The warm release painting your insides.

“That’s all I wanted, baby. That’s all…” He says, panting into your back. His hand smoothes down your hair and runs down the length of your body as he pulls out of you and walks to the bathroom.

You roll over onto your side, and face him as he stands at his sink. “Why?” You ask, voice still shaky.

“Why, what?” He asks, stepping out of the bathroom, with a towel for you.

“Why do you want me to call you Sammy so badly?” You ask.

“Why do you not want to call me Sammy?” He quips back.

“You first.” You reply.

His demeanor softens, and he gently wipes the insides of your legs with the warm towel as he answers.

“Because… It reminds me of when you liked me when I was… nothing. When we were two kids, just… hanging in my parents garage having fun together. When none of this…” he says motioning around the room “…existed… and you only saw me for who I was, not what I would be, or what I would do. It’s grounding….and it is more meaningful coming from you…more than anyone else. Especially like this. I was so stupid back then… ” He says, shyly, running the wet towel gently over your center. His eyes nervously look up to you, almost scared that maybe he revealed too much of himself.

You slide your hand over his arm lacing your fingers with his. 

“I didn’t want to call you Sammy because... I was afraid that all the feelings that I had for you then would come rushing back. I called you Sammy then. You were always Sammy, never Sam. You never let anyone call you Sammy, just me. You were my Sammy. I felt like maybe it meant that you liked me too… but then… well, anyways.... I just feel like calling you Sammy now is…it means too much to me.” you stammer.

His hand grips yours tighter. “I still don’t let anyone call me Sammy. Only the guys, and they know I hate it, they know it reminds me of you. You’re the only one.” He says, his eyes searching yours. 

You lean over, closing the gap between the two of you, his hands reaching up to cup your chin as you place a delicate kiss on his swollen pink lips. He kisses you back groaning softly into your mouth.

Fuck. 

Every single feeling you ever had for him, then and now have come speeding at you like a bullet train, crashing directly into your chest. You pull away from him and stand, making your way to the bathroom.

SAM POV

Watching her walk into your bathroom, you collapse into your bed. Your head reeling from the events of the evening. You stand up and pull your boxers on, opening the bedroom door and walking down the hallway. Rose is waiting by the side door, so you open it to let her out.   

You grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water, as your mind wanders. 

Fuck. She is so gorgeous. I can’t believe she still wants me.

You told yourself you weren’t going to let this happen. You told yourself you could do this. No feelings involved… please. You feel more for her now than you ever have. 

Fuck was I wrong.

Rose barks at the door, so you let her in and lock the door before turning off the lights and heading back to the bedroom. You let Rose walk in first telling her to get in her bed, and you set the glass on the nightstand. You grab a shirt for her, placing it on the dresser, it's one of your favorites and you can't wait to see her in it. You shake out the sheets, and crawl underneath them, waiting impatiently for her to cuddle up next to you, so you can wrap your arms around her. 

The bathroom door opens and her skin is still flushed pink. She looks for her underwear on the floor, sliding them back on.

“I put a shirt on the dresser for you if you want it.” You say gesturing to it.

“Did you pick this one out specifically?” She asks, sliding it over her head with a smirk.

Beautiful.

“Might have.” You reply smugly.

“How old is this thing?” She laughs.

“Probably like… ten years old?” You guess. 

“I remember the day you guys drew up this logo in Daniel’s parents basement.” She says.

She remembers…

“Can't believe you still have this…” she says, turning back the blankets and sliding into the bed. She turns off the lamp and fluffs up the pillow behind her. 

“That is priceless memorabilia!” You joke, opening your arms to her. 

She slides over towards you, resting her head on your shoulder throwing her leg over yours and you are positive she can hear how hard your heart is beating for her. You just hope she can’t also hear your thoughts or she would surely know the extent of your feelings.

Suddenly, nothing in this world could hold a candle to how you feel about the girl in your arms. 

“I know, I know, big famous rock stars and all of that…but not to me…” she murmurs into your chest.

“Oh, no?” You ask, curiously.

You wrap your arm around her, turning in to face her, pulling her in closer to your chest exhaling against her head, rubbing circles into her back. 

“No. Just my Sammy.” She replies, leaning into the sleep threatening to take her. 

Her Sammy… and you know that you always have been.

You could listen to her call you that every day for forever. You kiss her head and find yourself drifting off to sleep imagining just that. 

HER POV

“Babyyy!!!!” the loud shrill voice echoes through the house.

Rose barks loudly at the voice, waking you up fully from your sleep.

“Rose!” You hear Sam scold her.

“Sammmmmm! Are you up?!” The voice calls, from down the hallway.

You force your eyes open, the headache making its presence known in your skull.

“What’s going on?” you ask Sam, who is now sitting up next to you looking confused. 

Shit… It’s Morgan.

Before you can even get out of the bed, the bedroom door is opening and Morgan is stepping in.

“Hey baby I brou—” she stops, staring at you, then flicking her eyes to Sam.

“Really, Sam?” She asks, stepping further into the room.

You are so taken aback you aren’t even sure what to do or say first. 

I guess I did know this could be a possibility after all..

You all stare at each other for a minute before she sets the coffee on the dresser, “Are you going to tell her or am I?” She asks.

Tell me what? Why isn’t she furious?

You look over to Sam, who is sighing heavily as he stands up, pushing past her, into the bathroom.

“You should probably get dressed and call an Uber.” She says with a snide attitude before turning back down the hallway.

What in the fuck is going on?

When the door shuts, Sam emerges from the bathroom, quickly rifling through his closet looking for something before ripping it off the hanger and tossing it to you, along with a pair of sweatpants. 

“Here, put this on. You’ll probably have to roll the pants a few times.” He says, pulling a t-shirt over his own head and tossing you a sheepish look. 

You look down at the clothing he has given you and you smirk to yourself and shake your head. 

The pink sweater…really Sammy…

You give him a look that he knows all too well, before he slips out the bedroom door. 

Of all the things he could have chosen, it had to be this… he doesn’t even realize, does he?

You stand, pulling on the sweater and the sweat pants, hyping yourself up to do the walk of shame right in front of his girlfriend.

What have you done?

You gather your clothes and head out of the room, taking one last look remembering the confessions of the night. 

"I still don’t let anyone call me Sammy…”

“You’re the only one…”

You shake the thoughts from your head and make your way into the living room, now brightly lit by the morning sun. You can see more of Sam’s style here. The room is scattered with various plants, the centerpiece of the room being his white upright piano. 

I wonder if he still remembers the song he played for me all those years ago when he was just learning…

No. Focus. Why is she not yelling and screaming? She’s just sitting in the kitchen staring.

You see them standing in the kitchen, and approach them nervously.

“Tell her Sam…” She says, in a bratty tone, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Morgan, stop.” He says, clearly annoyed, shaking his head.

“Well, since he clearly isn’t going to —” she starts before he stops her.

“Can you just stop, my god!  Let me talk to her alone for five minutes. Okay?” He asks, as she storms off into his bedroom.

“Come sit with me for a minute.” He says, pulling out a bar stool.

“What is going on Sam?” You say, horribly confused. “Tell me what?”

He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. The look on his face tells you that he doesn’t want to tell you whatever it is. He grabs your hands, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He is nervous. 

“Morgan and I… we are in an open relationship. That is why I kept telling you not to worry about her. We have one rule that we both agreed on when we decided this. We can sleep with other people, but it can only be a one night stand. There can’t be any feelings involved. It can't happen ever again after that night. We can't speak to the person again. But I don’t—”

You snatch your hands from his cutting off his sentence. “I see. So you knew the whole time that this was only going to be a one time thing. So, all of that…” you say pointing to his bedroom, “… all the things you told me last night… you’re saying there were no feelings involved in that, right? You did all of that, and said all of those things, just to fuck me?” You say with a shaky voice, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Begging me to call you Sammy again… was that just to fulfill some sick little fantasy after all these years? That meant something to me Sam, all of it did! You let me tell you all of those things, knowing all along that you were planning to never speak to me again?” You stand scraping the stool across the floor, looking at him, clearly hurt.

“No, please… please, let me explain…I….” he says reaching for your arm. His eyes pleading with you to let him explain, but you can't. You know how this ends. The girl in the bedroom knows too. 

This meant nothing to him.

“No, anything you need to say should have been said last night. Before you brought me here. I will make sure you get these clothes back. I have to go, my Uber is here.” You say, walking through the side door and out into the harsh, judgmental sun light. Your heart is constricting in your chest over that fact that yet again, Sam has picked someone else over you.

.

.

.

.

tiny tiny taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama

[l0serloki]

can i ask for some basic chamber smut? it could be literally anything and i’m happy bro 😫

Chamber x Reader

Genre : Smut

WC : 1K

Summary : Chamber was teaching you french but you were a bit distracted.. Today was the day - you would finally tell him.

CW : Professor Kink, Degrading, dom!Chamber, fem!Reader, uhh fingering, spanking moment as well teehee, creampie (wrap it up 😩)

A/N : HELLO, I hope this satisfies your needs my love. Also, "C’est gênant" is like it's annoying/embarrassing/awkward !

Chamber had been teaching you French for a while now. It had gone smoothly for the most part, your accent getting better and your vocabulary growing. When he had originally offered to help, you were shocked to say the least. The ‘always busy’ man had time to help you out? The two of you met every Tuesday and Thursday to practice. The issue was, you were falling for him. You couldn’t help it - he was charming, sweet, patient, and well.. handsome. 

“Are you even listening to me, Y/N? I told you how to say it.” His voice cut through your thoughts, eyes widening as you faced him.

“Sorry, I got distracted. What was it again?” He clicked his tongue, repeating the phrase.

“C’est gênant." 

You had repeated it a few times, antsy at hearing his accent. You didn’t know how you were going to learn when even a simple saying got you distracted. 

“Why did you want to learn that one, if I must ask?” He cocked his head to the side, his little slanted smile making you swoon. You had been planning to tell him for the past few weeks how you felt and this was it. As nervous as you were, you stuck to the plan.

“C’est gênant, professeur. That stupid smile and accent of yours. I don’t think I can focus, sir. I am too distracted.” You tried your best not to sound scared, attempting to charm the man.

“Ah, ouias? You think I am sexy? Is your professeur distracting you too much, ma belle?” Chamber’s arm fell to your thigh, making you jump. His walnut hues bore holes into your head as you felt yourself burn. This man would be the death of you. 

“Well how about this then, I will quiz you on the vocabulary from this week. I think I have a way of drilling it into your memory.” His voice was almost a whisper, your body going weak. 

“What’s the way?” You squirmed around, his grip on your thigh only getting harsher.

“You bend over my lap and for every word you get wrong, I punish you. If you get more than three right in a row, I’ll reward you. How about that?” He pushed his chair out, hands patting against his lap. You could feel yourself grow wet at his dark gaze alone, slowly bending over his nice thighs. 

“You will address me as professor, understood?” His hand experimentally came down against your ass, leaving a stinging pain behind. “Yes, professor.” You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you already. “Good, then let’s begin.”

“What was the word for squirrel?”

You could feel yourself tense. That jackass knew you couldn’t ever pronounce that one, he was doing it on purpose! 

“Professor… It’s..  I can’t say it correctly.” You wiggled against him, knowing what was coming next.

“That is not an answer. Bad.” His hand came down twice, jolting you forward.

It had gone on like that for several minutes, Vincent asking for words he knew were too difficult for you to remember or verbalize. Your ass almost raw with the amount of spankings he had lashed out.

“I think that is enough of that for now.. We will practice another time. I suppose you deserve a reward for trying, yes?”

You frantically shook your head, begging for him to get a move on with it. You were practically sopping at this point, in need of something to take care of it. As if on queue, his finger rubbed against the outline of your pussy, slick coating it. 

“Oh my, you are so desperate. This is all because of me? What a slut you are for your professor..”  His voice trailed off as two digits entered you. His fingers pumped into you at a fast pace, filling you full. “Does my slutty little student like my fingers?” You screamed in agreement, begging for him to go faster. “My my, so greedy. Fine. I suppose you deserve it.” Chamber picked up the pace, adding a third finger to satisfy your drooling cunt. You could feel the knot in your stomach grow, getting close. “Professor.. I’m gonna cum.” Your eyes rolled back as you hit your high, ecstasy overflowing. “What a good girl.. Look at the mess you’ve made all over yourself.”

His fingers peeled your mouth open, your tongue cleaning up his slick ridden fingers. He cooed, picking you up. “Bend over the table now, professor will take care of you now.” You flung your body over the wooden table, already pulsating at the thought of his hard cock. The sound of his zipper filled the air, grunting as he stroked himself. You could see a glimpse of his menacing grin as his hand smushed your face against the desk. “Be good for professor and maybe you’ll get a good grade, eh?” Chamber’s tip teased against you, slowly sliding in. The stretch was almost a little too good, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m going to ruin this pretty pussy of yours. You belong to me.” Chamber’s hand circled around your neck, thrusting deep into you. His pace was almost too harsh, smacking your body into the desk like a ragdoll. “God, so good. Built to take me. I can feel you clenching, whore. Are you already close?” You moaned, words becoming incoherent from the way he manhandled you. “Can’t even talk, fuck. Already so fucked out, huh?” His face dug into your shoulder, teeth sinking into your soft flesh. His actions finally sent you over the edge, seeing stars as his cock continued it’s fast pace. 

Only a few seconds later you could feel his thrusts stutter, his cock releasing it’s hot load into you. “Well, that was good. Would you like to go out on a date, Y/N?” You could only snort - could always count on Vincent to be punctual.