#this is gold. wrote this all in one sitting but this is ready to be a best selling movie

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Happy Birthday, Norton Campbell

Rated Mature | None

To the second hunter and survivor I ever wrote since playing IDV (the first was Morningstar!Ithaqua and High Roller!Orpheus) and had tried to go against during his event (he rocked me a lot), this is for you babe!

Norton Campbell

“You know what they say about Pisces?” You say as lay on top of him wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

He uncovers his face where he places his arm to look at you. The look of ‘What weird thing did you come up with this time?’ because you are one to say the most outlandish things. He won’t say it but it is often appreciated when his thoughts are not pleasant, “What do they say?” Tired, not of you— Well, he tired because of you and that boundless energy of yours. God, you and Lucky Guy are always ready to go.

“... I don't know.” You forgot or probably had no idea where you were going with that.

“You are lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out.” Covering his face again.

“Out of my own room!? Naked? Wow!” Sitting up causes the sheets to shift and expose your bare chest but the lower half is still covered, “After I gave the best birthday gift too, boo!”

“How do you still have energy?” Mumbling.

“I have to keep up with you, both of you.”

“Agh.” Norton does not want to think about how Fool’s Gold is going to demand a birthday gift too, “Do me a favor and blue ball him.”

“Norton, you won't let me top and you expect me to do denial on him? Hah, no.” Using a modern term for being the dominant one, supposedly. You simplify a lot of your bedroom explanations to him.

“At least, make him work for it.” Moving to lay on his side with his arms wrapped around you.

Fool’s Gold

There is no dressing up for this, he would not appreciate it like his counterpart likes seeing you in lace. Simple lingerie, especially when he can rip it off. No, the hunter likes simply having you on your knees playing your role. He has not forgotten about this, about how it turned him on.

“Bark.” Commanding you. His legs wide open while he sits in the chair made for the hunters.

You are on your knees with your arms up partly as you copy a dog stance while standing, “Arf!” Barking a little too easily, the usual grin on his face widening at the sight of you degrading yourself as his gift. “Woof!” He pulls on the makeshift leash that is his belt.

“Open your mouth for your treat.” His fully formed hand is tugging at your bottom lip, “Tongue out.” Unzipping his pants, unbuttoning it so he has room to pull out that thick reconstructed cock. Pulsing with the purple glow. Tugging you so your breath is hot on his cock. Oh, he likes this sight with his thick nonhuman cock on your tongue weighing heavy.

The way you remain in place waiting for his command, and even better how soon he is going to see tears of pleasure running down that pretty face of yours.

“Go on, suck your treat up.” Norton definitely likes this. You normally would not do this again after the last time he did this with you, but it seems mercy is on his side.

A wish is granted for his birthday.

Soul Catcher

Mortals. All of them from animals to humans, their lives are fleeting, finite, he did not understand why he must assist in preserving these souls. They all will return to the land of the living upon reincarnation, to suffer and struggle. He sits watching a soul that captives him these days, singing a song and often messing up the lyrics, you currently are doing chores. Nothing special about this life or how you live it.

A plain soul, he found the company of such a domestic person a change of pace, a way to see the beauty of life before he claimed it for death. Soon you will follow like all mortal things.

“A celebration of life and another,” You explain, “Though you are not alive, we should still celebrate the contribution you give to all life.” Smiling as you hand him a poncho you created for him. “Death is equally as important as life.”

A birthday, he has no need for such a thing but the gift is given to him, here in this field of cut wheat, the window blowing softly as he stands up and puts on the article of clothing.

“It looks great on you!” Clapping your hands together, “Do you like it?”

“I do.” A quiet one as he often keeps to himself, “Thank you.” He does not have a need for this, yet he does not want to say that nor want you to think him ungrateful. The Soul Catcher touches it fondly as this will be treasured like all the memories he will have of you when the time comes to collect your soul.

Highway Cavalier

“Hiya, speedster.” Waving to him before leaning on the door of his car, “Practicing?”

“No, just checking on the girl before Luca and Demi kick me out for the day.” The engine sounds clear as he revs it and slowly winds it down, “You?”

“Soon, I need to test run the Mach Two before the entry races next week.”

“You've been test-running the damn thing all week.” Shutting the car off, “Join us later.”

“You know I can't, speedster. I gotta do my checks and do my practice laps—”

“Yes, you can because it's my birthday.” He grins, leaning in close towards you.

“What!?” You cover your face, “Oh, my God, Norton, why didn't you tell me?! I could've gotten you a gift or something.”

“I'm mentioning it now and the only gift I want is to see you at the bar getting drinks with us.” Pinching your cheek when you uncover your face to pout, “Maybe a kiss or two for an extra gift too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before laughing when you hit his arm.

“Silly man as if I don't already kiss you enough,” Rolling your eyes playfully.

The Orphan of Goetia

“A mutual gift for both of us to enjoy the desires of the flesh.”

Infernal Sin, King of the Seventy-Two demons of Hell, the Lord of the damned, has gifted him what they both desire. Norton’s heart is the Infernal Sin's heart only with a human host, he feels what the other feels too.

“I am such a benevolent King, aren't I?” A rhetorical

question as he laughs with glee, “Well!? Go on! Indulge.” Here in this bedroom of red lights and sheets of silk, a heavy smell of wine and iron, Norton is unsure if he should even touch you.

There you sit wrapped up with large fabric ribbons presenting you as a gift. The makeup on your face waa done by that worshiper obsessed with the demonic king and him. You look away, gagged with a ball held by leather straps.

“Go on. This is for us.”

You are laid back, the Orphan of Goetia and the Infernal Sin above you, the hands you feel however are only Norton’s. Carefully unwrapping you, freeing you but you remain on the bed. His hands remove the gag, his mouth on yours immediately desperately.

The sensation of a rocky hand sliding up your legs before slipping between them.

The King once told you here you will find heaven or hell, here you can be worshiped or be made to grovel. He will— They will have you one way or another.

“This is…” Norton speaking with laboring breath, “(Name)...” His lips on your skin, your neck to chest, a trail of hickeys following.

“Norton.” Moaned out as the monster enjoyed himself preparing you, “Please, God.” Thick fingers preparing you, it is as if he knows just how to touch you.

“Not God, us. From now on it will only be us.” The demon king says— Promises.

Mining Director

“You can open them.” Saying as the dining room table is covered with gifts sent to him. Perks of being the most desired and envied man in the mining business— With a hand in other businesses and politicians. Norton Campbell made himself the most powerful man both in the public eye and behind the scenes. “Useless junk.”

You sit there unsure what to say or do given his mood today. It is his birthday and though he has a ton of gifts and riches fit for a king, you had hoped he would celebrate with you… Like old times… When you were both two kids trying to make it in the cold world.

“What?” Norton says, he sees you not moving from your spot, his eyes go to the small box in your hand.

“It's nothing.” Putting the box down, turning around ready to leave the room. The boy you loved, that boy has grown up into a materialistic man. You married him because you love him, but you wonder if he loves you… If that boy is still there wanting to play with you like always.

“Wait,” Grabbing your arm, “Is this for me?” Looking at the poorly made box.

“... No point in asking. It's with the rest of the junk.” Sounding every bit hurt.

Norton curses in Spanish under his breath before pulling you into his arms and squeezing you, “Mi Vida, nothing you give me is junk.”

You hide your face in his chest embarrassed by your feelings of inadequacy, he has the world and you want to show him your love.

“Let me open it.” Opening it while still hugging you, “Hah! You found the old thing!?” Pulling out the old toy model car he would play with as a kid, “Can't believe it. Thought the old man sold it.”

“I found it when visiting the old neighborhood. The pawn shop had it on display and I… I hope you like it, Norton.”

He drops the box to touch the toy, this small piece of the past. When he was a boy, he used to play with this car pretending to be a racer. The grand places he would imagine with you in tow chasing after him.

“Norton?”

His face is buried in the crook of your shoulder, you touch his hand as you feel him trembling against you. 

#idv #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv prospector #reader insert #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell x you #identity v x you #identity v x reader #idv norton #identity v #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x you

[koolades-world]

Hellooo I like your stuff! :)

Can I pls request something where MC takes Mammon’s early game tsundere shit too seriously? Like, they always take things literally so when he says he doesn’t like or care about them, he’s annoyed to have to babysit them, he doesn’t want this stupid human, etc etc, they believe him?

But they thought he was warming up to them, they thought they were friends (and they’d started to really love their first friend!), so they get really sad about it. He’s like “I DONT care about the human!” And MC’s like, “oh… :’( okay….” and like, either Mammon has to fix it, or Beel and/or Levi (or any of the others! All of the others? Whatever you like) (after making their pacts) have to step in and help. Comfort the human and guilt Mam into communicating however they’d go about that.

Sorry if this is too specific! No pressure of course, do whatever you want with this, have fun :)

Thank you :))

🫐

hi! yes of course :)

today I actually based my outfit around his casual outfit since I have a jacket kinda like his. got so many compliments <3 wore knee high brown boots, a jean mini skirt, a cropped black cami, my mammon jacket, and my diamond studs. wanted to wear some gold hoops but my ears were not having it. dressing up and outfit planning are some of my favorite things to do

if you see that i wrote in second person instead of third in a few spots, please ignore that! i kept catching myself swapping tenses and I tried to find all of them but if i missed them i'm sorry haha

please enjoy, blueberry anon!!

Heart to Heart

Life in the Devildom wasn't easy, but Mc was slowly getting used to it. Sure, it would never be not chaotic to walk around and classes in a school full of demons, but maybe one day, they might be able to consider it normal.

They had begun to make friends with the other demons in their class, gotten involved with a few clubs that they really enjoyed, and even finally started to grasp the concept of the subjects they were attending class for. But, there was one thing they just couldn't even see themselves growing used to.

The first demon they had really thought they'd started to get to know really seemed to dislike being around them. No matter what they did, Mammon always seemed annoyed with them, no matter how sweet they tried to be. They felt most comfortable turning to him since they'd never seen him angry, and seemed the least violent out of their new housemates, especially with Devildom things they just didn't understand. He was by far the most approachable.

They could never understand his seeming hostility despite the fact that they hadn't done anything to him. His almost condescending nature bugged them a little. They didn't take it personally at first, since he was just supposed to be his tour guide and someone to go to if they needed it. He wasn't obligated to them in any way.

But they couldn't help but notice how mutually, they had wormed their way into each others hearts. At some point, it had become routine for him to invite himself into their room after he had finished getting ready for the night to watch something on TV while they attempted to do homework. Every time, they would eventually give up in favor of watching with him since he always had something funny to add. At lunch, despite having his own friends, he would plop down beside them with a snack for you, with some excuse about needing the human to stay healthy. Even if they were talking with one of their friends, he would wiggle between the two of them and stay there, to the point where their friends knew to leave him a spot since he was always fashionably late. At dinner, he always insisted they sit next to him, where'd he'd always whisper to them about his brothers and always inevitable get caught by the one he was talking about. It never failed to make them giggle, and also almost get in trouble.

Every time they had a moment like one of these, he would pretend like it hadn't even happened. It was like nothing between the two of them mattered to him. His comments always read like he was almost annoyed to have to be around them, and that he disliked it. It hurt, but they couldn't say they weren't used to it. After all, they would be gone after a year, so it wouldn't matter anyways, right?

One day in particular, nothing had gone correctly. Mammon had been out the previous night and let Mc know very last minute, despite it being a school night. Their room had felt empty. In hopes he would be back soon, they left his spot open, but he never showed up. They had known that, but it still felt strange. They had been able to get so much work done, but they went to bed feeling something they didn't quite understand.

The next morning, it had felt like he was going out of his way to avoid them. They had seen him once, and perhaps he hadn't seen them, but they didn't even get so much as a smile. He was absent at breakfast, like usual. It also wasn't his turn to walk them to school, so they didn't get to talk to him then either. Later that day, during lunch, he also never showed up. It was odd, but the two of them had never made the promise to meet, so it wasn't like he had some obligation. Their friends gave them a knowing look, one filled with concern, but they told them nothing was wrong. Or so they hoped.

They finally saw him that evening at dinner, but he just wasn't himself. He made no effort to speak to them. When they did try, he was harsher than usual, and kept making comments about them being a stupid human who didn't know any better. It was all in character for him, but with the treatment they had received that day, it hit closer to home than they thought it would. Once the meal was mostly over, and a few of his brothers had filed out of the room, Mc leant over to him to quietly ask if something was wrong. The response they got was much more explosive than they thought they would receive.

"Mammon, how have you been today? I haven't seen you much, and wondered if something was wrong." They stood next to Mammon, collecting all the spare dishes to be washed.

"That's none of yer business, human." He spat out his words like venom at them. His expression after the fact seemed like he'd almost regretted what he'd said, but made no move to take it back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought... Forget I asked." They took a step back, not expecting his words to hit them like that. They decided to take the dishes they were holding to the kitchen. Maybe he would be gone when they returned for more.

"Mammon, that was very rude." Lucifer, who was doing the same as Mc since they had dish duty together that night, gave Mammon a death glare. "Apologize this instant." When Mammon looked away, Lucifer continued. "Well?" Lucifer searched Mammon's face.

"What's your problem?" Asmo spoke up, looking perturbed by the way he had treated yet another one of his claims to fame. Mc did so well on Devilgram, so the two of them had gotten somewhat close, but not as close as they had with Mammon.

"I don't care about that damn human. When did I say that I did? They're just another responsibility." Mammon spoke as confidently as he usually did, but the look on his face gave it all away.

Mc, who had been hanging in the hall just outside the dining room door since they'd dropped a fork, heard his words. It stung them. They'd heard him say that before, but this time it felt as if he meant it if he hadn't before. With a sigh, they hurried off to the kitchen, closing the door behind them. The three brothers left in the room turned at the sudden noise.

Mammon realized what he'd done, and stood there, stewing in the consequences of his actions. Lucifer and Asmo said something to him before leaving, but he didn't really hear it. He wished he could take it all back, and to tell Mc he didn't mean it. But, he wasn't sure how, or if their relationship was even salvageable.

Mc was in the kitchen, scrubbing a plate when they heard Lucifer enter. They could tell it was him thanks to the sound of his shoes on the tile. They scooted over to make room for him at the sink. "I'm sorry about Mammon." Lucifer broke the silence.

"It's fine. He's right. I am just another task for him to juggle." They didn't look up from the running water.

"I assigned him to look after you. If anything, I can care for you." He placed the dishes in the sink.

"But, he's right, is he not? I'm just a human. I've got no clue what I'm doing here so someone has to look after me. I'm not in this family, so it's not like taking care of me was something he signed up for." They moved clean dishes out of the sink and onto the drying rack. Lucifer remained silent for a moment.

"It's an honor having you here, I hope you realize. This is a momentous occasion. Diavolo entrusted us with the duty of caring for one of the only two human exchange students, in a program that's unique." It seemed like Lucifer was struggling to find the right words to say. This was the nicest they had even seen him be.

"I appreciate it. Thank you. But, what am I to do? A human trapped in a place where humans aren't meant to go. I can't help but feel like a task to be completed." Mc paused. "I'm sorry. That was probably too much." They went silent again.

"You can go up to bed early if you wish. I'll finish these." Lucifer finally said. Without making eye contact, they got down off the stool they had been standing on to reach the top of the drying rack, and left with a small thank you. Mammon wandered in moments after they left, finally seeming to have collected himself.

"Mammon. I hope you're proud of yourself. After that spectacle, I might just have to make Beel their new guardian." Mammon froze at Lucifer's words.

"No! Ya don't gotta do that." He couldn't bring himself to continue himself.

"Really? Because with the way you treated Mc, I would not blame them if they never wanted to speak to you again." Lucifer turned around to look Mammon right in the eyes. He knew that look well. He was disappointed with him.

"I'll just go apologize. No biggie, right?" He tried to act as if nothing was wrong despite the turmoil he'd just caused.

"I have no words." Lucifer turned back to the dishes, ignoring Mammon's attempts to speak to him anymore. Mammon was left with his thoughts again, and all the regret he had. He wasn't sure how to go about with telling them he didn't mean what he'd said, and that was just because he really liked them. After some pondering, he realized nobody but himself was going to fill this hole he'd created, and that it was his job to do it if he wanted to repair their relationship.

Mc had been in their room, reading through some notes from earlier that day, when their door slammed open. Only one demon entered like that. "Mammon." They nodded without looking up.

"Mc. I- Do ya have a moment?" They looked up to meet his gaze. All the animosity had faded and was replaced with a warmness they'd never seen before.

"Yes." They set their pen down, and waited for him to speak.

"I'm sorry about what I said. I'm sorry fer ignorin' ya today. I'm sorry fer treatin' ya like garbage. You don't deserve that." Tears began to well up in his eyes, but he continued. "I have trouble tellin' ya this, but I think yer really great. If yer willin' to talk to me again, I promise I won't do all that anymore." The tears began to slip down his cheeks.

"Oh, Mammon, please don't cry." Mc got up to hug him and close the door behind him. He tightly gripped them back, as if they might leave him. Once he'd calmed down a little, Mc spoke again.

"I won't lie, what you said did hurt, but thank you for saying you're sorry. I really love spending time with you. You make me feel welcome here. I don't fully understand you, but I hope that you'll help me understand you." Mc patted Mammon's back.

"Can I stay over in yer room tonight? Let me start there and make it up to ya fer yesterday. Let's watch yer favorite human movie." His eyes are still red, but the smile is back on his face. It really suited him.

"Yes, of course." That night, the both of them fell asleep in Mc's bed together, but not before Mammon thought how lucky he was to have them, despite himself.

#blueberry anon #sorry im on computer lol #obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #omswd

[acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies]

Black roses

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Epilogue?

Helion x reader, Azriel x ex!reader, Rhysand x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, elain slander (i love elain but the plot asked for it)

Summary: In which you are finally introduced to the inner circle again, this time as High Lady of Day Court.

a/n i wrote this with an eyelash stuck in my eye so spare me 😭 🙏

I was getting ready to go to the Night Court. My outfits usually were a signature midnight black but after staying at Day Court for so long, I had learned to love the soft yellows and the striking golds. Hell I had decided to wear a golden dress as a homage to the Day Court.

It was a beautiful corset top dress, that flowed down like a waterfall. The slit was just an added benefit.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” A voice came from behind me.

Giggling, I turned around left a peck on Helion’s lips, but apparently that wasn’t enough, as he pulled me in for a deeper kiss.

His hands gently held my head, while my hands left his hair and raked over his bare chest.

“Helion, we can’t do this now” I say breathless as I pull apart. Hands at my waist held me tightly against his body.

“And put a shirt on” I finally escape his grasp and head over to fix up my face.

Helion winnows us away after we’re ready. Standing outside Rhysand’s court, we’re about to head in when Helion pulls me flush against his chest.

“I love you, and I’m so proud of you, if you feel uncomfortable the just squeeze my hand three times and we’ll leave,”

I kiss his lips and whisper a small “Thank you,” against them.

Just as we’re about to pull away, Rhysand shows up.

“Sister, Helion, if you’re ready?” he smiles, Rhys was the first person to know about us and currently is one of the few outside of Day who knew.

My cheeks flush at Helion’s smirk and push myself off him, “Yes we are,”

Walking in, I can feel their eyes on me. Shit this was scarier than expected.

Helion places a reassuring hand against my back. I give a soft smile to everyone.

Everyone except them. Elain and Azriel. I don’t even look at them, stopping at Cassian.

The men discuss about matters if court and alliances. While Feyre, Nesta and I catch up.

We were deep in a conversation about how we should visit each other often, when Elain decided to open her mouth.

“So what did you do to get a High Lord’s attention surely you’re not that good in bed” she sneers.

My blood freezes. Helion goes to open his mouth but I give him a look and speak through our bond. “I can handle this”.

“I know you can but if you need me I’m right here” he assures.

Simply nodding, I continue my conversation with Nesta about the newest book. Feyre had gone to fetch Nyx. Apparently he had missed me and wouldn’t talk to anyone except glare at Elain.

“I knew it, you’re such a slut,” she says loudly.

This time all chatter freezes, and the loud bang of the door indicates that Feyre is here. With Nyx.

For the sake of the little boy, I ignore her again. Reaching out to carry him. He cracks a smile and babbles while grabbing my hair softly. Giggling at his attempt to tell me a story, I sit down with him in my lap.

Unbeknownst to the longing stares from Azriel, the hateful glares from Elain and the look of adoration on Helion’s face.

Soon enough he tires out and falls asleep.

“She obviously used her mind control powers or whatever to get him to calm down,” Elain scoffs.

I go to finally respond when two loud voices bellow across the room.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rhysand and Helion’s voices were powerful enough alone. Together they could bring someone to their knees.

“That’s my sister, you’re talking about,”

Elain’s eyes widen at the confrontation from Rhysand.

“She is the High Lady of Day Court and you will treat her as such,” Helion commanded.

“You know I told Rhysand to give you a chance at some sort of redemption but you truly are self conceited,” this time it was Feyre’s voice.

My head snaps upward. “Whatever, all Day Court people are the same,”.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I question. My voice is deathly low and sharp enough to cut her.

“It’s just that Day Court men are just pretty things to look at and the women are just objects to be used,” she explains.

I hand Nyx to Feyre.

“You can speak ill about me all you want but bringing my people and the women from my court who work harder than you have ever worked in your entire life was a mistake,” I warn.

“You have been handed your life on a silver platter, forced your sisters to give you everything they deserve. Did you know Nesta was so worried about you when you were Made that she couldn’t eat or sleep,”

“No you didn’t because you’re just a self conceited, backstabbing bitch who would be nowhere without us. So go ahead insult me but just know that I can have you thrown in deepest cell in Hewn City and trust me someone like you wouldn’t survive a minute in there.” With every single word I took a step closer towards her.

Seeing her say nothing, I walk off towards Helion.

“Go run home with your bitch of a man then,” she calls out from behind me.

Turning around I punch her nose in one swift motion.

She falls to the floor and Nyx decides to wake up and he starts clapping and laughing. Smiling, I head towards him and pick him up and give him a little kiss on the cheek.

I walk towards where Rhysand, Helion, Cassian and Azriel were standing.

“I’m really sorry Y/N-” Azriel starts.

I kick him in between the legs, “That’s for marrying another girl while being my fiancée,”.

He doubles over in pain and I take that as an opportunity to punch his face, “And that’s for giving her my wedding dress”

“You are free to visit us in Day Court whenever you want,” I say just as Helion winnows us back.

He presses me against the bedroom door, “That was so hot,”.

“Really? Why don’t you show me how much you liked it then?”

a/n so um the argument might be bad but in my defence i’m not the type to involve myself in conflict like fight or flight best believe i’m flighting

lemme know if you want a lil epilogue for helion and reader

“glory is fine revenge is more fun” IF YOU KNOW WHERE THIS JS FROM ILY MARRY ME 💍

taglist: @esposadomd@impossibelle@acotarfics-mharmie009@stqrgirlies-blog@balam-sen@cumuluscranium@witchymomfrien@historygeekqueen@wallacewillow0773638@wickedfelinaxo@mybestfriendmademe@to-be-written@highladyofterrasen98@minnieoo

#acotar #acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies #acotar series #book #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #helion x you #helion acotar #helion spell cleaver #high lord helion #helion x reader #day court #azriel #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #helion fluff #revenge #glory is fine revenge is more fun #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm #maasverse #acotar fandom #sjm critical #nyx archeron

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Matching Scars, Matching Rings, and Future Tales

A/N: I forgot this was in my drafts. Wrote this a while back.

Steve and Eddie had healed together in the safety of Steve’s house. Harrington Castle, as Eddie had named it, had become Eddie's safe house until he was officially cleared of all charges. That had happened quicker than they had thought, and Eddie was about to move back in with his uncle when he nearly got jumped by some of Jason's friends. He went back to stay with Steve again until the shady government people dealt with Jason's goons.

"Hey, Stevie, since we have matching scars, you know what this means, don't you?" Eddie asked as he stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off.

"I don't know. That we're married?" Steve asked.

"Oh. I was going to say that we're connected forever and that you're stuck with me. If you really want to be married to me, then married we are, big boy," Eddie said with a wink.

"Hmm. Married, huh, and all I get is a bat bite scar, not even a ring," Steve said sarcastically. "How will this marriage work?"

"Oh, baby, if it's a ring you want, then a ring you shall get," Eddie said as he slipped off one of his rings and put it on Steve’s finger. "Better?"

"Well, I've decided to put off the divorce, so that's something," Steve said.

"You're hard work, sweetheart," Eddie said. "But worth it."

Later that night, Steve was sitting up in bed reading when Eddie appeared in the doorway, looking pale and clutching his pillow.

"Uh, I heard married people sleep in the same bed together," Eddie said.

"You have a nightmare?" Steve asked, peering at him over his glasses.

Eddie nodded. Steve moved over and pushed the covers back. Eddie crawled in and plopped on his side as he looked up at Steve.

"Whatcha reading?" Eddie asked with a dimpled grin.

"Um," Steve said, blushing. "A book."

"Gasp! A book! What's that?" Eddie exclaimed dramatically and then scowled. "Yeah. Thanks. I can see that it's a book. What book are you reading? . . . The Witch and the Pirate's Heart. . .Steve, are you reading a romance novel?"

"Um, yeah. . .I like romance, so what?" Steve said.

"Nothing wrong with that. So, what's it about?" Eddie asked.

"This pirate kidnaps a king's daughter, hoping to ransom her for gold. Turns out she has powers because her mother was a witch, a fact she never told the king about. The pirate falls for the daughter, and a war ends up breaking out when the king's rival finds out about her. So, the pirate has a choice to make: return to the sea to resume being a pirate or risk everything to save the woman he loves?" Steve told him.

"Oooh! I'm in," Eddie said. "Read to me?"

"Sure, I'll start over," Steve replied.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said.

"Nah, it's fine," Steve said. "I just started it."

Eddie lifted up his arm and settled against Steve’s chest. Steve smiled as Eddie's hair tickled his chin.

"In the small but grand kingdom of Osprovia, there lived a king with his daughter, and they lived rather boring lives, or so the King wanted his daughter to believe. Since the death of his beloved wife, Christina, King Edmond did everything he could to make sure his daughter knew nothing of the troubles that came with being royalty. Meanwhile, Eleonora dreamed of adventure. . . "

The next morning, Steve smiled as he got ready for work. Eddie was fast asleep, with his face pressed into the mattress while drool spilled out of his open mouth. One arm and leg was hanging over the side of the bed while his hair was covering part of his face. He grinned and knelt down next to Eddie's face. Steve moved his hair out of his face and stroked it. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Eddie's hair was surprisingly soft. It took him a minute to realize that Eddie's eyes were now open and blinking sleepily at him.

"Morning," Eddie said.

"Good morning, I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for work," Steve said softly.

"Okay," Eddie said, his eyes closing. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie rolled over and hugged Steve’s pillow to his chest. Steve watched him fondly for a moment as his breathing started to slow as he fell back asleep. He started walking out of the room and stopped when he heard Eddie mumble.

"Love you."

Steve went to open his mouth to say something when he heard Eddie's snores. Did he mean it? He shook his head and left to pick up Robin. He smiled as he gripped the wheel, gazing fondly at the ring on his finger. Robin didn't even notice until well into their shift.

"What the hell is that?" Robin asked.

"What is what?" Steve asked.

"That," Robin said, pointing to the ring.

"Oh, that," he replied casually.

"Yes, that. It looks like Eddie's ring," Robin said.

"Well, he is my husband," Steve replied.

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?"

"My husband."

"Your what?!"

"My. Husband."

"Your what?!"

"Robin!"

"Steven!" Robin exclaimed. "Did you get illegally married without me being there to be your best man?! We've talked about this! We both get illegally married to our partners on the same day!"

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow! No, it's just a bit we're doing. I think," Steve said.

"A bit?"

"Yeah. A bit. He's not serious. He made a joke about our matching scars, and then I made a joke that we're married. That's when he put the ring on my finger," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

"Oh my god!"

"Okay, you have to stop doing that," Steve said.

"You want it to be real," Robin whispered.

"What? I mean. I don't know," Steve said. "Shut up."

"Steeevvvvve. You would tell me if you were gay for this man, wouldn't you?" Robin said, pausing. "I'm sorry, bi for this man."

"You'd be the first to know," Steve said.

"I better be."

Steve walked through the front door of his house. The first thing he smelled was burning toast. Oh God, was he having a stroke? That's a sign that you're having a stroke, right? He walked into the kitchen and found Eddie freaking out over a smoking toaster.

"Eddie?" Steve asked, placing the box of food on the counter.

"I swear I'm not trying to burn your house down!" Eddie exclaimed and shrieked when flames burst from the toaster. "That's really unfortunate timing!"

Steve laughed and took the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Eddie quickly hid behind him and watched as he put out the fire.

"My hero!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek.

"What were you doing?" Steve asked.

"I was trying to make dinner," Eddie pouted.

"And it was toast?" He asked.

"It's the only thing that I really know how to make," Eddie muttered. "I want to do something nice and then tell you about how I got a job at Thatcher's Tire. Also, I lied. Hopper told me Jason's friends had been dealt with a week ago, and our house had been ready for a while, but I told Wayne that I really like living with you so it's really his house. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up with you."

"Well, it's a good thing that you didn't burn our house down," Steve said. "And you're lucky that I got our favorites from Ruby's diner. Let's eat, then clean up the kitchen, and after dinner, we can read more of the book."

"Can I read it to you this time?" Eddie asked, and Steve smiled at him.

"Yeah. Hold on. I have to go make a phone call," Steve said.

"To whom may I ask?" Eddie asked.

"Robin!"

A couple of weeks later, the 'earthquake relief fund' rolled in for everyone involved. Eddie fought with Steve on using some of his money to take him out to Enzo's.

"Come on," Eddie said. "I want to treat my husband. . . Please?"

"And you're okay with people seeing us there?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Okay then, but we're going to have to wear something nice," Steve said.

"You're lucky that I went shopping today," Eddie said.

Steve came downstairs and saw that Eddie had finished getting ready first. He wore a tight red blazer, black jeans, and a black button-up that Eddie left quite a few buttons undone. His red guitar pick stood out against his pale skin. His hair was in a low bun with a few hairs framing his face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely putting out tonight," Steve said without thinking, but Eddie just laughed and took his hand.

"Come on, big boy."

Enzo's was crowded tonight, which was a good thing for Steve and Eddie. They sat in the back next to a window. It set off away from the other people, which is exactly what they asked for.

"So, we finally finished the book," Eddie said coyly as he sipped his wine, and they waited for their food.

"Holy shit, I was not expecting it to end that way," Steve said. "I mean the real reason that King Thomas tried to take Edmond's crown and daughter. . .God, no wonder it was at the bottom of the bin at the thrift store marked do not read."

"I guess that person was against burning books," Eddie cackled. "I just hope there's going to be a second book because holy shit, that ending. Maxwell the pirate deserves better."

"We should make Robin read it so she can share in our misery," Steve said.

"Definitely," Eddie smirked, and they clinked their glasses together.

"I'm glad Edmond worked things out for both kingdoms. He's happy, and I know that he would do anything for his daughter even if it meant helping out Maxwell," Steve said. "I definitely like Edmond."

"I don't know, I kind of like King Thomas and his fancy hair," Eddie said.

"He was an asshole," Steve said.

"Yeah, but he had good reasons," Eddie said. "I'm just glad Edmond finally decided to stop running away."

"I did like that Thomas decided to stop pretending to be someone he's not," Steve said.

Steve reached across the table and took Eddie's hand in his, rubbing his thumb across Eddie's hand.

"You know, you look good tonight too, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Well, you did say you like me in yellow," Steve said.

"Aww, you wore it just for me?" Eddie said.

"I'd wear anything for you," Steve said, and Eddie opened his mouth. "Within reason."

When their food came, they switched back to talking about the book again until they were done with their dinner.

"Do you want to order dessert?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, actually, can we have dessert at home?" Steve asked.

"Sure, whatever you want, Stevie," Eddie replied.

As soon as they walked through the door, Eddie sped off into the kitchen and started digging through the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Looking for dessert, duh. Ooh, we still have Rocky Road left!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed laughing.

"Ooh, but we have double chocolate!" Eddie said. "Which one do you want?"

Steve sighed and put the ice cream back, closing the freezer. He grabbed Eddie by the hips and lifted him onto the counter, stepping into his open legs.

"Eddie, when I said that I wanted dessert at home, I meant that I wanted you," Steve said.

"Ooh! Oh!" Eddie said, pausing and staring at Steve. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, I think this is the part where you tell me whether you want me or not," Steve said nervously.

"Oh! Yeah, I fucking love you," Eddie said, blushing. "I actually wanted to give you something."

He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. Nestled inside were two silver rings, bats wrapped around the band.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Well, Steve, they look like rings to me," Eddie replied.

"Alright, smart-ass," Steve said. "I mean, what do they mean?"

"I want this to be real, like really real. You know, like a real marriage. I mean, as real as it can be. I still want you to keep the ring that I gave you, but I made these rings because I thought they'd be cute as wedding rings. I know it's been like six months, and we haven't dated at all. Plus, it would be illegal, so it probably wouldn't be all that real," Eddie rambled.

"I'm so tired of dating. I've dated, and I don't want to date anymore. I think that I knew that as soon as you pushed me against the wall of that boathouse. I love the rings, and I love you. This marriage might not be legal, but it doesn't mean it's not real. A real marriage means something to both of you. It's a promise that grows old with you both," Steve said. "A piece of paper, a pair of rings don't mean anything until you make it mean something."

"Have you been secretly working on wedding vows?" Eddie asked. "Because holy shit, so much better than mine. All I can think about is how much that I want to be with you forever."

"That's pretty good too," Steve said.

Steve grabbed one of the rings before slipping the ring onto Eddie's finger before letting Eddie do the same with him. Steve cupped his face and kissed him deeply. Eddie gripped his hair at the nape of his neck and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist as Steve gripped his thigh. In a flash, Steve picked him up.

"Woah!"

"It looks like I was right. I am putting out tonight," Steve smirked.

"You are not carrying me up the stairs like this," Eddie said.

"Okay."

Steve moved him over his shoulder so that way Eddie was looking directly at his ass.

"Oh, yeah, this is a great view," Eddie said.

A little while later, they were both naked and covered in sweat. . .completely exhausted from consumating their batty union. Steve was smiling at the ceiling, and Eddie watched as the smile fell from his face.

"Watchya thinking about, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Robin," Steve said.

"Oh God, is this marriage over already?" Eddie asked.

"No! She's going to kill me! We were supposed to have a double illegal wedding!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, that's good. I thought I was going to have to explain to you that Robin's a lesbian," Eddie said.

"I know she's a lesbian and I know that you know that I know that she's a lesbian," Steve said.

"Look, if she wants to get married one day, then we'll stand up beside her and whatever wife who's lucky enough to marry her," Eddie grinned. "If you want to have a ceremony, that is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I always knew Robin was a package deal," Eddie said. "Besides, I would be an absolute failure of a soulmate in law."

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you, Mr. Munson."

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Robin stormed into the Harrington-Munson Castle, Vickie following behind her. Eddie and Steve were lounging on the sofa watching TV.

"Excuse you, how do you know we weren't going to go upstairs and fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Please, it's Saturday," Robin said. "Saturday mornings are for cartoons."

"How do you know we aren't thinking about trying?" Eddie asked.

"For a baby?" Robin asked. "Is there something you want to share with the class, Eddie?"

"Yeah, if Steve is determined enough, I think he could get anyone pregnant if he wants it that badly," Eddie said.

"So, you think that if my best friend is baby crazy enough, he can just look at someone and get them pregnant with the power of his mind?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Robin said softly.

"Well, wouldn't that mean that you wouldn't even need to have sex to get pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"Shit," Eddie cursed. "You're right."

"Robin, why are you here?" Steve asked.

"Why did you make me read this book?!" Robin asked, holding up the Witch and the Pirate's Heart.

"I read it too! It was really good," Vickie asked.

"THOMAS AND EDMOND WERE GAY FOR EACH OTHER AND THEIR FUCKING BREAKUP NEARLY CAUSED A WAR! AND IT ENDS WITH MAXWELL IN A COMA!" Robin yelled as she collapsed on the floor. "Steve, why the hell did you make me read this book?"

"They're bisexual, actually," Vickie corrected, and Robin glared at her girlfriend.

"And Maxwell turned out to be a woman! Holy shit! And Eleonora realizing she still has feelings for Maxwell regardless of their gender. . . Holy shit! Maxwell needs to wake the fuck up!" Robin exclaimed. "Who the fuck is this author? Who is Christopher Quinn? Is there a book two?"

"Yeah. We tried to find anything about the other, but it didn't even say where it was published or when," Eddie said. "We looked through dozens of dozens of bookstores."

"Seriously?" Vickie asked.

"Maybe it was sent from the future because that sex scene between Veralyn the elf and her pixie girlfriend, River, was pretty detailed," Robin said. "It was a head of its time."

They all sat around the coffee table, talking about the book and debating it's origin. Meanwhile, amongst the trees behind Steve’s house, a man popped out of a portal and began searching the ground. He looked suspiciously like Eddie, but older and with shorter hair.

"Goddamnit! I know I put that book somewhere! Oh, Steve is going to kill me!"

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates #stranger things vickie #robin x vickie #rovickie #rockie #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes

[justporo]

Evening Rituals

The sun might be lost for Astarion, but what he can hold onto are the sunsets once the sun itself has hidden beyond the horizon. And so he sits and watches - and you hope to help him mend what's broken.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I wrote this after I thought of that recent headcanon of Astarion liking to catch as much of a sunset as possible - because they're beautiful and we all know he loves beautiful things. Coincidentally the sky this morning - although it was a sunrise - was just as I imagined it for this piece. Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 1k Song: Am I Dreaming - Lil Nas X ft. Miley Cyrus ~~~

The room was dark so the sky could be more vibrant.

At least that’s what Astarion always said when he insisted on getting up as soon as the last golden ray of the setting sun had climbed down below the horizon. He’d thrown open the thick brocade curtains covering the tall window in your room, only to do the same with the window and then perch on the window sill: one leg drawn up, the other hanging casually down from the little nook and his head up towards the gradient sky.

His posture seemed casual enough. Inviting you to think that he was merely languidly relaxing. But for you who’d become accustomed to carefully notice even the most minute of details of your lover, you saw the tension in his spine and the way he leaned towards the last moments of daylight. The way his eyes spoke of yearning and a dear one lost.

It had become an evening ritual this. Since evenings were now the start of your days.

It had been merely a couple of days since your final battle for Baldur’s Gate and so for the time being you’d chosen to remain in the relative comfort of the Elfsong tavern. Until things had blown over a bit, the dust settled.

One of those things being how your vampire had been forced back into the night.

And how he hadn’t been ready for it. Although, if you were quite honest with yourself, who could have ever expected him to be ready for something as cruel as that?

Astarion fully hadn’t been prepared for this sort of breakup yet. That’s what he’d said several times. Sometimes half-joking, sometimes with as much earnestness as you’d heard from the man.

And you knew that even his new found, undying and powerful love for you could only take the sharpest edge off the pain all this was causing him.

He was mourning the loss of the sun. The griefing doubled by it being the second time it had been taken from him.

Because a heart already shattered into pieces, already once broken and barely just starting to stick together again was so prone to breaking down even more.

And so Astarion sat and watched how the last remains of sunlight slowly got drawn from the skies every evening. Observed how the colours changed from simmering, liquid gold at the rim and got drowned out by all shades of the colour blue imaginable. Like a curtain dragged down over the city ever so slowly - until glittering stars and a vibrant moon brought some solace with their silver light. As if offering a soft caress as a small apology to the vampire who would have to make do with them instead from now on.

And you sat with him every night, trying to offer additional comfort even though you knew that even you couldn’t substitute all the warmth of golden daylight. At least you wanted to be there for him while he was trying to mend the pieces as best he could.

It might not have been healthy how Astarion clung to shreds of what was left. But could you really blame him? You saw the pain in his crimson eyes every evening once he had settled down to watch, how he practically made himself sit through the pain time and time again. It tortured you.

But you also noticed the spark on his face, at least a silver lining. When he smiled and whispered to himself how beautiful it looked. “Almost as beautiful as you,” he joked sometimes. And then you smiled at him or kissed him. But not for too long as to not to keep him from his moment of serenity.

Mostly the two of you remained silent. You needn’t speak about this, it was an unspoken agreement between you. And a lot of thoughts must be going through Astarion’s mind at any given time. Two centuries were a hefty time span to sort through. And you felt he needed these moments to slowly work through it. To patiently let the major dust storm settle and see how pieces fit together after that. So usually you just stayed with him, observed him as much as the sunset sky, while you hoped you’d be a piece in the puzzle once he would have figured it all out.

Today you had quickly went down to the taproom to get yourself a mug of hot tea while Astarion had already flung open the window to perform his routine.

When you returned he was already there, head leaning against the window frame, one leg up and angled, softly swaying to a melody only the vampire heard.

Kneeling down in front of the window on a pillow you set down your cup on the window sill and then your head on top of your arms right next to it. Vapour curled lazily from the boiling hot beverage you’d brought for yourself, dissipating somewhere towards its way up to the flamboyant sunset.

The sky was different today. Mixed with the usual oranges, yellows and and blues was a breathtaking blend of purples and pinks, stroked over with some soft sheens of clouds that glowed even more vibrantly with the unusual colours.

Astarion was mesmerised, mouth slightly agape, as if he’d never seen something similar. Truly the way he could admire every single instance of the sky darkening slowly had you in awe and broke your heart simultaneously.

The vampire loved beautiful things, loved to look at them, again and again. And if that was what remained, he would hold onto it.

You took him in, took careful note of how his profile outlined darkly against the softer pastels of the early night, eyes shining. The warm light tones painted him softly - in a way that made your heart ache even more.

Astarion noticed you watch him and smiled at you lovingly - and just a little wicked. You hoped you saw a tiny bit less aching in it today. He stretched out his hand to stroke your hair softly while not breaking eye contact. He admired you very similarly to how you had been looking at him. And to how he previously had drank in the dusk sky.

Tonight his eyes didn’t stray from you while the colours slowly gave way to the darkness of the night.

The pain and the beauty of sunsets might be fleeting. Always prone to betray one.

But you were there. And you stayed even beyond darkness.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

[tkwrites]

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 

Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 

“Do you need a towel, man?” 

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 

“Sure,” she yelled back. 

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said. 

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 

He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  

“Sure.” 

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly.  

“Listen, I heard you last night.” 

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 

“Is this about that girl?” 

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 

“How can we help you, darlin?” 

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 

“Is it condemned?” 

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 

“Did they find out what caused it?” 

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 

Yeah, my future, he thought. 

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 

“Someone was just here looking for you.” 

Hope started hammering in his chest. 

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 

Now he really was going to throw up. 

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?” 

“Another team.” 

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 

“Look him up on Insta.” 

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 

She messaged him, hoping. 

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 

“Matthew?” 

His head shot up. 

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.  

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked. 

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 

Josh stayed where he was. 

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 

Matthew was the last at the table. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 

“Eight,” he said. 

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 

“All for here?” 

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 

Both guys just waited. 

“But the club caught fire.” 

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 

“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 

“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  

“I guess so.” 

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?” 

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded. 

“I’d at least give him a chance.” 

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.” 

She giggled. 

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed. 

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.” 

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 

She looked instantly downcast. 

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. 

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 

“Right. Yeah, okay.” 

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. 

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 

“Only when I think you might come in.” 

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 

“Can you define that a little more?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 

God, maybe they really were made for each other. 

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 

There was the passion she’d been looking for. 

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 

“Okay.” 

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to. 

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 

“What do you need?” 

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Body shaking, she cried out. 

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?” 

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 

“Okay?” she asked again. 

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 

 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 

Matthew nodded. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed. 

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 

Fanciction Masterlist

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey romance #hockey fic #hockey smut

[xiaowhore]

heartbreaker.

premise. in which you claim to be immune to the “bad boy” appeal but fall for his charms anyway.

includes. xiao, albedo, ayato, childe & scaramouche !

note. this is the product of watching too many c-dramas.

xiao as the inconsiderate classmate who closes the door on you even when he notices you walking behind him towards the lecture hall. the guy who never replies when you try to talk to him, like he believes it to be a waste of breath, always ready to put on the headphones resting around his neck and ignore your endless rambling. (the seatmate who quietly places a book upright on your desk when you fall asleep, preventing the teacher from catching you in the act. the boy who sneakily leaves your favorite bread and milk on your desk when he overhears you telling your friends you forgot your packed lunch at home.)

albedo as the haughty honor student who peeks at your test scores and does a little smirk. the boy who draws you with tiny devil horns and pointy teeth in art class. he doesn't roll his eyes when you grab his pencil case to borrow his stationery, but he comes close to it. you can't even begin to imagine what he's going to do if you break anything so you panic when the eraser's wrapping comes off; the cardboard slips away, revealing a name written underneath in elegant scrawls—and to your surprise, it's yours. (back in middle school, everyone believed the person you like will return your love if you wrote their name on your eraser... and succeeded in using it all. it doesn't take a detective to know this doesn't actually work.) (the eraser is only a quarter of its original size now.)

ayato as the jerk who tugs on your hair whenever he sits behind you and nobody believes the tale because “he looks too nice to do that!” (he isn't a 9 year old who bullies the girl he likes, goes unsaid.) the intolerable distraction who takes the seat beside you when you're studying at the library just to bother you, toying with highlighters and doodling small hearts on your notebook. with each sneer he receives, the bigger his smile becomes. (he likes your attention. steals it when you're talking to someone else, demands it back when you try to ignore him.) (he found that you look cute when angry, too.)

childe as the asshole who laughs in your face when he catches you in your pajamas while throwing out the trash. the rich scion who brandishes his wealth in every opportunity, dressed in expensive clothes and switching gold watches every day. randomly invites you to hang out one day without providing further context and frowns at your plain clothes while you gawk at his pressed suit. (he brings you to the mall, forbidding you from checking the price tags. he scours the store for the perfect outfit, grinning in satisfaction when the makeover is finished. “you're my date for zhongli's party today, okay?” ???)

scaramouche as the tyrant who sits at your lunch table without asking because “i can sit wherever i want” and apparently you can't do anything about it. the bully who chucks paper airplanes to your head, writing down stupid notes you pass back and forth via balled up paper and getting scolded by the teacher when he catches the both of you fooling around. (when he notices someone staring at you for too long in class, he smacks their head with a crumpled piece of paper scribbled with “what the hell are you looking at?”)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #scaramouche x reader

[hometoursandotherstuff]

You know how I love offbeat properties and I found this seller's For-Sale-By-Owner ad on Zillow. He started building the home in 1969, in Eureka, California, and it's been under construction for 43 years! It's a French ornamented cathedral Gothic, with all custom ornaments, molds and scaffolding techniques. This mansion is based on Newport, Rhode Island style and spirit from the 19th Century.

This is what it's supposed to look like - The Vision.

And, in 43 yrs., this is what he's done so far. He's asking $4.5M. Now, he has been living in it, so you can live in the finished part. The house is being sold furnished, and what furnishings! Read what he wrote about them below:

"Also for sale here are 1500 sq. ft of the ultimate grade palatial antique Italian marquetry, veneer and solid wood furniture, ranging from console tables and mirrors; 10 different sizes of round antique tables, up to a 12' x 6' museum-piece dining table, various rare cabinets, marquetry, upholstered chairs, couches, china and other cabinets, solid gold (plated) grandfather clock and two huge antique chandeliers, all worth over $300k on the market now and arguably TWICE that!"

This outer door is amazing.

Here's a gargoyle and other ornamentation that still has to go on the house.

But, look at this - it says the exterior designs are ready for installation "when the lawsuit is over." So, the property is involved in a lawsuit, too? (Check the blog - I found the lawsuit papers and posted it.)

There's so much stuff here.

This room is done. It must be a ballroom. I don't know what to make of all this. This looks like the Romanoff's place.

This must be a music room. There's a harpsicord and a harp in here.

Look at these walls. He says the walls are hand done- are these the actual walls?

The walls are hand painted according to the description.

Here's a mantel waiting to be installed.

This is going to be the kitchen.

The gold double sink.

I don't know if this is an old picture of the original inspiration for this home, but it's definitely a representation of the home itself.

This is an amazing fireplace.

Another beautiful fireplace.

He's using the bedroom, but it's not finished.

I'm disappointed in this bathroom. Maybe it's just temporary?

He has a lot of photos of the furniture and these are really primo antiques. So, this would be one of the dining rooms.

This looks like a brand new bedroom set. Looks like a furniture store that used to be near me called Roma Furniture.

The chandelier in the ballroom that he says is included in the sale.

One of the sitting rooms.

Nice inlaid table.

There's a lot of furniture. If you want to see it all, click on the link b/c he's posted 100 photos. But, I'm very confused.

The property measures 6 acres and there are "massive fall color and rose gardens, 20,000 plantings, plus 10,000 daffodil, iris, lily, etc. Bulbs are spread over 6 acres, still there mostly, alive and colorful. Plus, hundreds of valuable landscaping sculptures are included."

#unique homes #unusual homes #gothic mansion #houses #house tours #home tour #unfinished homes

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.9

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 2943

Summary: Minho and you spend a day at the art gallery, Chan takes you out for dinner by the river. Both of them try their best to make room for you and reconnect. You haven't been so happy in a while.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, dinner date, museum date, soft!min, soft!chan

A/N: Thought I'd surprise you with another chapter today that I wrote after posting chapter 8. I think we could use the fluff🤭🖤

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

You exchange a soft smile with your husband, tilting your head at him. “You’re okay?” you ask gently. For a moment, all you can hear is the low hum of the city life outside the window. 

“Let’s go out today?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the calm. “Just you and me.”

You study Minho’s face, swallowing at the hope in his eyes. It’s been three weeks since you clashed and you’ve been working on easing out the many strains those past months have taken on your life. Sometimes, Minho seemed a little hesitant, not knowing if you’d let him in enough. “Where would we go?” you ask, allowing a small smile to cover your lips.

“You mentioned that art exhibit at the new gallery downtown a few days ago. I thought you might want to see?” he suggests gently.

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of him still remembering that. “That sounds wonderful,” you say excitedly. “I would love to.”

“Yeah?” He smiles so sweetly that you reach out for him. He leans into your touch as you caress his cheek and searches your eyes carefully.

“Yes, darling,” you mirror his smile.

The two of you get ready in comfortable silence, side by side, occasionally sharing glances that hold soft smiles and unspoken words. As you step outside, hand in hand, the city greets you with the vibrant colors of an early evening. The sun, low in the sky, paints everything in hues of orange and gold.

The gallery is a modern space with stark white walls filled with vibrant art. You wander through the exhibits, Minho’s presence a steady warmth at your side. You’re busy looking at the different pieces, but his eyes can’t stop finding you. Once more, he notices how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and how safe you always make him feel. A small smile settles on his lips as he watches you, following you around the rooms willingly. 

At one painting, a chaotic blend of dark and light, you pause longer than at the others. Minho beside you observes the play of emotions across your face. “What do you see?” he asks quietly, not asking about the painting but the meaning you give it.

Your eyes linger on the canvas, chewing your lip a little. “Struggle,” you say, your voice soft in the almost empty room. “But there’s beauty in it too. The colors clash, and still they harmonize…it’s almost like…,” you pause, not quite sure if you should continue.

“It’s like us,” Minho finishes for you, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns to look at you, his gaze filled with understanding. “Finding our beauty in the struggle. Finding some light in the darkness.”

You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the truth of his words. You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining naturally as if they were made to fit together. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Minho’s thumb strokes your hand gently, and his eyes soften. “I’d go anywhere with you,” he replies.

You continue your walk through the gallery, and once you step outside, the sky has turned into a velvety blue, and and stars begin to peek out. You decide to take a little detour on your way back home, walking through the park. The city sounds soften in the background, replaced by the rustle of leaves and distant laughter.

The park is lit by scattered lamps, casting their golden lights on the winding path. You walk slowly, comfortable in the peace you feel with him. At a bench by the duck pond, you sit down with him, gazing at the water that glitters beneath the moonlight.

The air is cool by now, a gentle breeze teasing your skin, making you shiver. Minho notices almost immediately, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm hug. You lean against him, head resting against his shoulder, and sigh happily. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Minho confesses, voice laced with a warmth that reminds you he’s your home. “I missed just being with you without having to try and function. Just..us.”

You turn to look at him, eyes finding his in the dim light. “We don’t always have to be strong, do we? We can just be us, flaws and all.”

“No, we don’t always have to be strong,” Minho agrees, his hand gently cupping your face. As long as we’re together…that’s enough. That’s more than I could’ve ever asked for,” he whispers. Your lips meet in a gentle kiss before he squeezes your shoulder. “Let’s get back home, hm?”

The walk back is quiet but comfortable. As you reach the doorstep, Minho stops, turning to you with a serious expression on his face. “Let’s make a promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “No matter what happens, we keep fighting together, we keep finding beauty in the chaos.”

You nod, face softening at the desperation in his eyes. “I promise.”

Minho leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss to seal your promise. It’s soft and sweet and holds the promise and gentle words of today. “Come on, honey. Let’s see if Channie’s home yet,” he says, and you nod happily.

Inside, the house is quiet, making the atmosphere feel almost too serene. As you shed your coats and shoes, Minho calls out gently, not wanting to startle Chan, who might be home. There's no response, and he leads you through to the kitchen, where a note on the counter catches your eye.

"Out with Felix and Binnie. Don't wait up. - Chan" reads the neatly penned message, Minho's lips turning up in a small, knowing smile. "Guess it's just us tonight," he comments.

You nod, missing Chan but also relishing the quiet intimacy that the evening promises with just the two of you. "What do you feel like for dinner?" you ask, turning towards the fridge.

Minho shrugs, watching you with an affectionate gaze. "Anything's fine, as long as I'm with you," he replies, his tone soft. 

Deciding on something light and easy, you opt to make a salad with all the fresh ingredients you have, adding grilled chicken for some warmth and substance. Minho sets the table, his movements relaxed, a playlist of soft music filling the background.

As you both sit down to eat, the conversation flows more freely than it has in weeks. Gradually, the dialogue drifts towards more personal topics, about how you've both been feeling and the little things you've missed about each other.

"It's been tough, hasn't it?" Minho says at one point, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. "But nights like this... they remind me why it's worth it. Why we're worth it."

You reach across the table, your hand covering his. "It has been tough. But I wouldn't want to face it with anyone but you," you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

After dinner, you clear the dishes together, a routine that feels comforting in its normalcy. Minho washes, you dry, and there's a gentle efficiency to your movements, a dance you've performed countless times before, each step familiar and reassuring.

With the kitchen tidied up, Minho suggests a walk outside. The night air is still warm enough to be inviting. "Let's just walk around the block, a little night stroll," he proposes, and you agree readily.

Outside, the neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are dimmed for the evening, and their inhabitants are likely winding down much like yourselves. You walk hand in hand, your steps unhurried, the silence between you comfortable and easy.

At one point, Minho stops, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I don't say it enough, but I do. So very much."

"I love you too," you respond, leaning back to look into his eyes. “And you're right. Nights like tonight remind me of us, of what we have and what we're fighting for."

Returning home, you settle onto the sofa, Minho pulling a blanket over you both. You lean into him, your head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head.

"Let's not wait so long to do this again," you suggest, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah," Minho says, his arm tightening around you. 

As you nod in agreement, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, you realize that the struggles and the chaos of the past weeks have not been in vain. They've brought you to this moment, safe in Minho’s arms.

-

Chan finds himself back earlier than he planned. After his evening out, he feels the pull of home - of you and Minho - stronger than the laughter and light of the city streets. As he approaches the house, his heart is a mix of nerves and hope. He unlocks the door quietly, half-expecting to find the house still echoing with the tension of previous weeks.

Instead, he steps into a soft-lit silence, low music playing in the living room where he finds you and Minho asleep on the sofa, intertwined under a shared blanket. The sight makes him stop in the doorway, a gentle smile spreading across his face as relief washes over him. Here, in this scene of peaceful slumber, he sees the healing that has begun between you. It almost feels as if you’ve never struggled.

Chan sets down his keys quietly and walks over, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. The intimacy of the moment - the way Minho's arm encircles your waist, how your head rests against his chest - is so sweet. It reminds him of the depth of love and commitment that binds you together, a stark contrast to the coldness that had crept into your interactions lately.

Chan reaches down, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is feather-light, a silent vow to himself to mend the threads of your relationship that he's held too loosely. The small action makes you stir, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his in a sleepy state.

"Channie," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. "You're back early."

He nods, his hand moving from your hair to gently squeeze your shoulder. "Couldn't stay away too long," he admits, his voice low and warm. "I missed home."

Minho stirs next to you, his eyes opening to Chan's familiar presence. "Hey," he greets, his voice rough with sleep "We were just waiting up for you," Minho teases lightly, though the crinkles by his eyes show his sincerity. He sits up, adjusting the blanket over you, ensuring you're still covered and warm.

Chan chuckles softly, the sound soothing the lingering edges of his earlier anxiety. "It looks like you did more sleeping than waiting," he observes gently.

"Join us," you say, patting the space beside you. 

As Chan settles beside you, the weight of the past weeks—the misunderstandings, fears, and pain—seems to lift slightly. Together, you sit in the soft glow of the room, the silence comfortable, filled only with the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing.

As the evening deepens into night, you all decide it's time to move from the sofa to the bed. Hand in hand, you help each other tidy up the living space before heading to the bedroom.

You all get comfortable in bed, Chan, in the middle this time, turns to face each of you, his eyes holding a soft light. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "For this. For us."

Minho reaches to squeeze his hand. “We love you, Channie.”

“I love you too,” he smiles happily.

-

Chan had suggested it: a quiet evening out, just the two of you. You agreed to the promise of a few hours solely with him, which sounded too good to pass. Chan suggested a small restaurant by the river, one that promised a breathtaking view.

Now that the evening is here, you feel nervous, a soft flutter in your stomach. It reminds you of the early days, the first few dates, and the awkward dance of not wanting to choose between Minho and him. You spend quite some time picking your outfit, wanting to feel beautiful and hoping to see the spark in Chan’s eyes you haven’t seen in a while.

Chan is not one bit less nervous than you are, choosing a simple but elegant shirt he knows you like. When he sees you, ready and waiting, his breath catches in his throat. “You look so beautiful,” he manages, his voice rough with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze and the slow smile covering his lips make your heart beat faster, and your eyes water a little.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thanks,” he smiles shyly, blushing a little.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet, with music playing in the background. Chan parks near the river just as the sun is slowly dipping below the horizon, painting the water with a golden glow.

Hand in hand, you walk to the cozy restaurant, which has soft lighting and a gentle, nonintrusive conversation. You choose a table near a window with a view of the river, now shimmering under the first touches of twilight.

You two fall into easy conversation as you eat, yet beneath the lightness of their conversation, deeper topics linger at the edges, waiting.  "Y/n," he begins, his voice serious but gentle. “I know things have been tough. I know I've been... distant. Not because I want to be, but because I've been scared - scared of doing the wrong thing, of saying the wrong thing."

"Chan, I understand. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed, too, scared of pushing you away or making things harder for you,” you admit gently.

“I never meant to feel like you couldn’t come to me…or that Min is more important to me,” he tells you guiltily. 

“I know,” you reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “But we're here now, and that’s what matters. We can find our way back together.”

Chan’s smile returns, his eyes lighting up as if a weight has been lifted. “I’d like that. A lot.”

As dinner comes to an end, Chan suggests a walk along the river. The cool breeze from the water is refreshing, and the rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore is soothing. 

“Look at the moon,” Chan points up, and you both stop to gaze at the full moon, casting a silver glow over the river. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and for a moment, it feels like everything is right in the world.

“It’s gorgeous,” you comment, leaning into him.

Chan wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Not as gorgeous as you,” he says, which makes you both chuckle.

The moment feels right, and you stop walking and turn to face him. “Chan, thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me. I’ve missed just being with you like this.”

He cups your face gently, his touch tender. “I’ve missed it, too—more than I realized. Let’s not let it go again, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, and he leans in to kiss you softly and sweetly under the moonlight by the river.

On the drive home, the car is filled with comfortable silence. A song that you both love comes on the radio, and Chan reaches over to turn it up. You smile and start to sing along quietly. He joins in, and soon, you’re both laughing and singing at the top of your lungs.

Chan parks the car in front of your house and turns to you with a giddy smile. You smile softly, leaning over to cup his face. “My beautiful Channie angel,” you whisper, and he blushes a little. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he smiles shyly. “My sweet baby girl.”

Minho greets you with a gentle smile as you step inside. “Had fun, you two?” he asks gently, giggling surprised as you give him a long, soft kiss. “Hey, darling,” he whispers adoringly.

“Come cuddle with us?” you plead softly, making him laugh.

“Please?” Chan asks sweetly, kissing his cheek.

“Fine, fine,” he laughs. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll be there in a bit,” he promises.

Not much later you’re all comfortable in bed. You’re in the middle, feeling safe between them. To your left, Minho’s warmth is a comforting pressure against your side, his arm thrown loosely over your waist. His fingers draw mindless patterns on the fabric of your nightshirt. Chan’s body is curved around yours protectively, his breath softly tickling your neck. Minho shifts a little, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes meet Chan’s in a silent agreement of how much they love you. 

“Comfortable?” Minho asks softly, barely above a whisper, as if he’s scared of speaking too loudly.

“Very,” you nod, agreeing. You turn your head slightly to smile at him, reaching to touch his cheek. Chan responds by tightening his embrace around you, his hand splaying across your stomach, grounding you.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the only sounds are the soft rustling of the sheets and the steady, rhythmic breathing of three hearts in sync. You find yourself tracing the lines of Chan’s hand after a while, feeling the strength and warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours. Minho, feeling a surge of affection, leans over to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, then Chan’s jaw. Chan smiles at the gesture, a small, happy sound escaping his lips. It feels perfect.

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @lost-in-avoidance @dprkbyn @bear8585 @lee-knows-cats @mintchip17 @zdgx1 @zerefdragn33l @chansducky10 @melanctton @0325tiny @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @daisyjihannie @felixs-brownies78 @roriiror

#stray kids #skz #chan #minho #minchan #lee know #bangchan #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #chan fluff #chan fic #chan x reader #minho fic #minho x reader #minho fluff #bangchan x reader #bangchan fic #bangchan fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fic #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz x reader #skz fluff

[ressjeon]

fish out of water | jjk

pairing: human!jungkook x mermaid!reader summary: your routined excursion to the above world is at risk thanks to the harmless-looking stranger who might still be a threat to the discovery of your existence. rating: nc-17 | word count: 1k genre/au: fluff, modern retelling, fantasy, dark comedy, little mermaid!au warnings/content: alcohol consumption, threats (playfully tho), near-death experience

a/n: to celebrate the official release of the Little Mermaid live-action movie and MerMay, here’s a small thing from me ig cuz i can’t just let this jungkook go. poll who atp sorry y’all i wrote this when i was missing him sm 😭

The moon has always enamoured you.

The clouds around it add to the picturesque of what you could have painted if artworks can be perfectly stored underwater.

Watching it from above water is unparalleled when you’re observing it from underneath. You bask in the moonlight, occasionally closing your eyes and imagining being able to moon gaze like this every night. That would be impossible including staying here any longer as it is strictly forbidden for you to be out here in the open on land.

It doesn’t matter as long as no one discovers you here—

“omg, a giant fish!”

You whirled right away in the direction of the loud voice, spotting its owner, a man walking sluggishly by the seashore towards you. Panic rushes through you at the prospect of being identified, your mind prompting you to think of possible ways of escape.

The position you are currently, sitting on top of the huge rocks unfortunately doesn’t give you much of an advantage to attack him unless he comes near. And he was slurring words that you’re trying to decipher. He doesn’t appear to have any weapons with him except for that strange transparent object in one hand with gold liquor in it. 

You ready your stance the closer he gets, bracing both your clawed hands in front of you. He might use that object or the liquor against you. One of your advantages is the lack of enough light where the scenario would’ve been different had it been during the day. You move your tail behind you so he won’t be able to see it further. 

“oh wait, you’re pretty for a fish!” the strange man starts to giggle as a points at you and you’re in confusion.

Did he just compliment you? Aren’t humans supposed to be scared of your kind?

“i’m not a fish” you declare calmly despite the wave of anxiousness bubbling in you. He may be just a human but he could also be acting all innocent, a perfect bait to lure you to his other comrades that may be hiding somewhere.

Waiting to capture you.

Your father warned you of how vicious humans are so you must not trust him even though he seemed harmless. You’ve looked around and a bit of relief washes through you when you found no one on the shore aside from him. Still, you mustn’t lower your guard. 

You continue to observe the man as he continues to walk where you’re sitting by the rocks. Only then you can see his face more clearly. He’s pleasing to look at, different from the humans that you’ve seen in fishing boats before. Wearing only a plain white shirt, its top buttons are undone which makes him more dashing than he already is. 

The simple loose pants he’s wearing perk your interest as you quite can’t figure out what material it was made of yet. 

“i must be drunk holy shit, i’m talking to a fish” he continues to laugh, smiling brightly while looking up to the sky and you’re getting warier of what he is planning.

You’re running out of time and this man is wasting it. You promised the others that you won’t be that long. You wouldn’t want them to come back and find you in a company of a human boy.

He’s right in front of you now, drinking what’s left of the strange object he’s holding before placing it on the dark sand. You’re surprised that he was able to stand up again, wobbly, sure, but it did not affect how he’s acting around you.

Quite the opposite for you the closer he gets.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his right arm, adorned with dark markings, some with colour but you couldn’t see the rest of it since he rolled his sleeves up until his elbows.

“how can i be a fish and talk to you like this?”

The man stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, confusion evident on his face.  Only then that you notice his hair, slightly damp curly that almost reaches the base of his neck.

“i can see your tail” he responds with a bit of clarity now, still confused but his curiosity overpowered it. He’s now trying to see behind the rocks, to see more of what the moonlight can show. He looks adorable, tip-toeing to get a glimpse of your tail and you’re tempted to show him just so he can leave you alone.

Fully revealing yourself could scare him or not but you’ll try. It worked with others before along with many threats. If not, then you could kill him though he doesn’t look like he can harm you in this state.

“i could eat you, but i'm full already” you hiss, trying to sound threatening and staring him down with a glare but the man starts laughing hysterically instead.

"i'm supposed to be eating you since you're a fish" he wheezes as he shakes his head, enough for him to lose his balance.

You catch him just in time and you have no idea why you did. You could’ve just let him fall on the rocks in front of you and call your sisters for another feast but you couldn’t find it in you to let it happen.

“damn..strong..fish” he slurred before losing consciousness in your arms. In a strange way, you find yourself smiling at the stranger’s remarks. He might be well-built but he weighs like nothing to you with your inhuman strength.

Up close, his rosy cheeks are glowing and you’re unable to avoid touching them, feeling the warmth coursing through you. Albeit your body’s much colder than humans, it piques your interest that he feels warmer than the others you’ve held before. You can also smell the bitter scent wafting off of him, leading you to think that all this was because of that golden liquor that he consumed.

You eye the glassy object, looking back and forth between him and it on what to do next. But his face distracts you again, noticing the pieces of jewelry on him. A silver necklace is peeking out underneath his shirt and only his right ear has silver bands on them. You’ve also noticed a ring-like silver metal attached to the right corner of his lower lip.

Is this a new way of putting on jewelry? 

It seems that you have plenty of things to catch up on and this man might help you with it. 

But will he when once wakes up or will he turn out just like the others? 

e/n: i have big plans for this one but we’ll see lmao. lmk what you think tho!

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #bts imagines #bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts x you #jeongguk #bts imagine #the little mermaid #btshoneyhive

[queenofallimagines]

oh good gods pls your luciferian hcs made me YELL they’re so good lmao i was side eyeing my altar and space for lucifer the WHOLE TIME

do you think you could do a part two? and if possible, nsfw? if not thats more than okay!! thank you and i hope you’re doing so good!!!

🕷️anon

Absolutely 🕷anon! AND LMAO YEAH I COULD FEEL HIM SIDE EYEING ME ACROSS THE ROOM AS I WROTE THESESGSHSJS asking the old man “why are you like this” whenever lucifer in game does something corny😭 ik he’s sick of me

Lucifer:

- Okay so since part 1 was when you arrived this will be more about day to day life in the next term

- Right off the bat I’m imagining minor petty spats that the other brothers are like…. Wtf is going on here

- Like y’all have been glaring across the table at one another for 30 mins and haven’t spoken a word

- WAY more picky w offerings lmao

- Is literally going to be super extra about it for no reason other than to bother you

- For example! When you give an offering to oshun( African orisha they’re like the HR in the heaven department just above the angel hierarchy) you have to eat a little first bc she was poisoned once so it’s like to show you’re in good faith

- Lucifer will ask you to do that w food you don’t like

- “Eat some”

- “I got this for you-“

- “And I want you to taste some😌”

- “….. do I really I have to???”

- “Are you telling me what to do w MY offering🤨”

- MAKE FUN OF HIM PLEASE ITS SO FUNNY!!

- A lot of people ( white peoples I fear😔) be talking about he only accepts blood offerings and you have to sell your soul or whatever and stuff but literally this man will be giddy over a red candle w gold glitter

- Write all your assignments in sparky pen so when he looks at them he can’t hold back a smile

- As a joke you leave crystals associated with him in his coat pockets but he will never take them out

- Congratulations you played ya self

- You doing the stuff you do for him out of habit will fluster him if you say it

- “Why are you waking up so early to get ready?”

- “Hm? For Lucifer”

- “No im not gunna drink this tea it’s an offering🙄”

- Please don’t tell his brothers he will lock himself in his office💀

- Whenever you google “what can I do for Lucifer” 9/10 the first thing will be taking care of yourself

- So when your self caring w asmo and you go “oh I do this bc Lucifer likes it”

- The house will expose in chaos

- Mammon demanding you tell him your card numbers “for him” LMAO

- They’re all super jealous

- Gotta tell em its nothing personal he’s just always been there for you

- Whew if he reached out to YOU?

- The silence in the house REAL LOUD😭

- Belphegor waking up and going “ik you fucking lying!!!”

- You’re all confused like???

- “…..you said Lucifer… reached out to YOU?”

- “??????yeah????”

- “As in… he ASKED you to work with him?”

- “Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about his name and he showed up on my door one day”

- Lmao belphie and mammon are the LOUDEST FR

- “YOU CHOSE A HUMAN?? MR I HATE HUMANS BECAUSE THEYRE WEAK??📸”

- OH SO THERES MORE THAN ONE FAKE BITCH IN THIS HOUSE HUH?”

- lmao he’s sitting there red faced clenching his fist like

- “Listen I can explain”

- He cannot explain😭

- Can’t even say he did it on a whim

- “He really picked me up like a wet cat lmao”

- “Mc I am literally begging you to shut the FUCK up”

- Oh maaaaan diavolo will get a Kick out of this!!

- Solomon is very salty

- “But I can’t get a pact😒😒”

- He’s literally going to double down and bother him more

- “Lucifer you never told me you were taking on disciples🥺”

- “I didn’t think it was that important lord diavolo simply to pass the time”

- Simeon is laughing but internally having the feels bc he’s like 🥹 “even after all this time you still choose to be a guardian angel”

- Will tell you embarrassing stories about him he is now super close to you

- “Lucifer being the lords favorite was also the best one at singing👀 he loved music”

- That’s tru btw lmao Lucifer was like one of the angels who liked singing the most thats what makes humans and angels so alike- love for music and dancing-

- Call him your morning star and he MELTS

- Back to why were really here😌

- Call him that during sex or when you first wake up and he’s on cloud nine

- FUCK HIM DURING GOLDEN HOUR🗣🗣

- He’s literally he rises in the morning for a reason!!

- He will deadass purpose bc imagine riding him as the sun stars peaking over the horizon

- He’s under you moaning looking up at you w the most glazed over love struck eyes

- The sun filtering through the window and hitting him juuuuuuuust right

- That it looks like he has a halo again

- Breathlessly calling your name as you grind down on him

- He barely manages to get out that he’s close before you caress some of his hair out of his face

- “Cum for me then my Morningstar”

- Time freezes for like 16 seconds and his eyes are getting teary

- He hugs you close as he starts rutting his hips into you harder

- Will cum and keep going until he’s about to pass out

- Holding you like a lifeline

- When you can finally breathe and think straight he pulls you in for a kiss

- Literally stealing your breath away

- Will say I love you in the most honest voice ever while smiling at you with teary eyes

- probably won’t stop touching you all day might as well just spend it in bed

-is embarrassed by body worship calling it now

- be HE can do that but if YOU sink to your knees behind his desk and hold eye contact he’s getting nervous

-“just showing my devout gratitude💕”

- embarrassed how fast he finishes

- if you keep doing to overstimulate him he’s putty in your hands

- this man is very soft he will crack at the slightest sign of domestic romance

- bring him coffee when he wakes up?

- he’s already selected a wedding venue

- I always thought it would be cute if he gave you his ring

- HILARIOUS IF HE DOSENT TELL YOU LMAO

- You swing by the celestial realm and it’s crickets and you’re like ??? Fuck is y’all starring at??🤨

- Simeon hums and says that nobody expected lucifer to get married much less to a human. How he was never one to put anything above his responsibilities

- Excuse me?

- “You’re wearing the right of light,yes? He doesn’t just give that to anyone dear. You two are bonded for life now🥰”

- “HELLO????”

#🕷️ anon #my writing #obey me #x black reader #obey me x black reader #x black!reader #lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #om lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #om lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #witchy reader #hehehe #love thinking about soft sex w him sometimes #bc he’s so full of emotions and locks that shit away so much #but you’re able to get him to drop the act #catch me crying in the club

[lelengerine]

sincerely, yours

✿ pairing | haechan x reader

✿ synopsis | love letters are bound to be found out eventually, right?

✿ genre | fluff, a little bit of childhood friends to lovers, slight angst, and unrequited (?) love if you squint real hard

✿ wc | 0.7k

✿ notes | hello <3 this is my very first fic published here and what better way to start with hyuck hehe :> do lmk your thoughts on this!!

m.list

you never wrote about anything in your life, much less lengthy love letters, but here you were doing just that. 

every moment you sit in front of your desk at night, underneath the warm glow of a small lamp, your hand mindlessly fills in blank pages with words that would never be spoken out loud. words that would never reach him. 

lee haechan.

you knew that, yet there was always that silent wish he’d one day read the letters that you’ve meticulously handwritten and sealed with a dollop of pearly gold wax and a selection of dried flowers. 

frankly, you’ve grown to fear the day you’d accidentally slip up on your words and hint at your feelings for him, which is why you’ve resorted to letting each drop of your feelings seep into the letters you’ve written instead. 

an entire stack of envelopes rest neatly inside a small box hidden under your desk, and you prefer it to stay that way. after all, you’re about to be going on a trip with him and rather not let the sturdy walls of your friendship crumble before your very own eyes.

you decide that’s enough pondering for the day, opting to freshen yourself up before haechan arrives to pick you up.

a few moments pass and haechan’s voice starts filling the walls of your room. “y/n- are you ready to go?” he questions, sounding a little flustered to see the area empty.

“i’m in the bathroom! i’ll be out soon.” you yell out, placing his heart at ease. 

he takes the time to look around your room. practically nothing has changed since the last time he’s properly been in it when you were both still young. 

the glow in the dark stars are still stuck on your ceiling, yet there’s something different from the corner of his eye. a small, well-kept box rests below your desk, one he’s never seen before nor heard you talk about. 

you’d usually tell him everything, or so he thought before seeing this.

he doesn’t know what’s so compelling with such a small box, but with you out of the premises for the time being, he supposes a peek inside wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

crouching down and quickly taking the lid off, he finds the dainty envelopes you’ve hidden with your heart in mind. though, you admit the hiding spot was pretty obvious to anyone who truly knew the layout to your room.

haechan assumes they’re letters meant for someone as all the envelopes are signed with 'sincerely, yours.' at the bottom left in a cursive font.

his heart grows heavier the more he rummages through the box, the realization of the envelopes being love letters sinking in slowly but surely.

you like someone, he thought to himself.

“hyuck, i’m done. we should get-“ you come out of the bathroom, freezing as you realize what haechan’s holding in his hands. “…going.”

you’ve caught him like a deer in headlights, an unreadable emotion lurking around his features as he stares back at you, still holding the box you’ve sworn to never be within his reach.

a single word doesn’t dare cut through the tension, and you start to feel your palms sweating. shallow breaths are all you’re able to make — that being the only sound that rings through your ears.

had he read the contents of those letters? you certainly hope not.

“…y/n? what are these?” haechan’s voice is wary, but gentle, urging you to spill your heart’s contents as if you’d never been hiding them in the first place.

your mind goes blank, completely unfocused from the fact all your secrets are about to be poured over like a cup of piping hot tea during tea time. what would you even tell him? 

that those are all letters you’ve written thinking about him? he’d find you a creep, if anything. lying would never pass through him either, especially not when he knew what ticks to look for if you tried lying through your teeth. it’s not like you want to lie to him either. 

this wasn’t how you planned to confess (you never planned on confessing to begin with), but perhaps your silent wish was simply being fulfilled at this instant. 

with a deep breath, you finally answer “they’re… sincerely yours.”

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[seeingstarks]

the cream on the cake wants to escape

summary : being newly signed to all elite wrestling, you don't know many people and expect no one to show up to your birthday party but end up with company of the devil himself and mr. best in the world. pairing : mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader cw : cursing, many sexual innuendos, teasing, breast grabbing/kneading, daddy/babygirl/daddy dynamic, implied cmjf references, thigh riding, cock/clit teasing, begging, male masturbation, blowjobs, dirty talk, double penetration, creampies, butt-plugs, slight bondage, ass slapping, utter filth. a/n : my birthday is in three days and with cm punk coming back soon i just had to whip something up also i love cmjf but basically this is something small i made for myself. i hope you all enjoy it though and as always reblogs are very much appreciated!! my ask box might be open soon for drabbles as i'm slowly getting the inspo for writing again. <3 there may be a few spelling/punctuation errors. word count : 2,518 words tag list : @josiewrites , @baysexuality

some of the talent backstage had their suspicions when you became apart of bullet club gold in just a matter of months after being signed to all elite wrestling.

the rumours began to spread, hushed whispers down the halls the moment you left a room. there was no getting away from your ex - however none of them knew what actually happened.

you carefully hand-wrote each invitation to your birthday party being held later that night, allowing everyone to bring a plus one. in each envelope corner you curled a cursive letter heart with your initials on it.

not knowing many people at all elite, you felt doubt that anyone would come. if you had known more people maybe they would have thrown you a surprise party instead of doing one for yourself.

with a sigh you sat down at catering after grabbing a boxed cupcake juice robinson gave you earlier but didn't have time to sit down and eat until now.

glancing around, not many seemed to even care or notice it was your birthday. they were either too wrapped up in their own lives or didn't see you sitting all alone.

pulling out a lighter from your jacket pocket you attempted to ignite the flame a few times but had no luck. "seriously, the one time where things go to absolute shit and it's my birthday!?" you cursed out weight shifting as you felt someone's presence next to you.

anyone but him. "how is my switchblade babe doin', aye? need a light?" jay questioned with a smirk before pulling out his lighter and igniting the candle on the cupcake as if it were nothing.

you rolled your eyes before even taking a glance at jay, "didn't need your help, and don't call me that. we're not together anymore. don't even know why we're in a stable together." you crossed your arms at your ex.

"wow.. last time i help a friend out. well, i'll leave ya' be then." jay stood up and walked away while you took the wrapper off your cupcake and took a bite from the sweet treat.

a single tear fell down from the corner of your eyelid, today of all days you felt most lonely. the salty liquid ran all the way down to your lips and you didn't want anyone to see you crying. luckily bullet club gold wouldn't be needing the locker room today as you booked it and locked the door behind you.

the rest of the day seemed to go by at an agonizingly slow pace, you began to set up pastel decorations and blew up a few balloons as the clock ticked down nearing the time for guests to arrive.

walking into the washroom, you fixed up your h/c hair and brushed it off to the side while fixing your black dress which hugged your curves perfectly. not having the time to put a bra on or even caring about it, you shrugged while looking in the mirror and threw a light jean jacket on over the dress while slipping on a pair of combat boots, comfort and style.

once ready, you took a seat on the sofa and waited a good ten minutes before someone knocked on the door, "coming!!"

once seeing who was in your doorway your mouth fell agape, so many questions filling your mind but words unable to form.

"you 'gonna just stand there or welcome me in, i'll move ya' if i have too." shaking your head, you simply giggled and stepped aside.

"how- when- where?" you questioned and raised an eyebrow while looking the chicago native up and down who did indeed age like fine wine.

"okay.. see lemme' explain. me and uh- let's say a co-worker of mine paid off the others not to come in order for you to have a special night, that is... if you want."

you punched phil on the chest, who didn't flinch the slightest. the chicago native pretending to be hurt and scrunching up his face, "ouch that hurt soooo much."

"i was crying earlier and this so called co-worker of yours is nowhere to be seen!" you yelled at him and punched the man once again.

"shhh, babygirl. there he is." your eyes left his and looked up to meet with a pair of dark hues belonging to the devil himself who locked the door behind him.

"aw, are you two getting started without me?" maxwell asked.

gulping thickly you hid you your face in the crook of the chicago native's neck, your cheeks starting to heat up the moment phil wrapped his large hands around your waist and gave a slight squeeze.

"so brave before and now look at her hiding... we're gonna' have fun with you tonight, such a shy doll isn't that right?" maxwell taunted and approached the two of you, the heat of his breath running down your own neck sending chills down your spine, "but tonight is all about the birthday girl.. tomorrow me and phil have our fun.. that is if you can still walk by the time we're done."

stepping away from phil momentarily, you allowed him to still hold your hips as you looked up at him with a soft smile. "well... i've always wanted to try thigh riding.." you admitted shyly while glancing between the two men as they each shared a knowing look which could only mean trouble.

"oh? whose thigh do you wanna ride first?" phil pulled you in closer, rubbing his hands along your curves and pressing his growing hard on up against you, "look what you're doing to me already baby.."

maxwell smirked as another pair of hands went behind your figure, going under your shirt and massaging your breasts as you let out a soft moan for the devil, "fuck- not wearing a bra, is that just for daddy?" he asked and pinched your nipples causing a whine to escape your lips all at the same time when phil brushed the tip of his cock up against your clothed entrance.

"n-no it mm- happened by coincidence but i will make sure to wear em' less for both my daddies." you responded with a grin.

"did you hear that phil? she's got two daddies now- will be fun adding a chick into our little adventures, hm?" max questioned the chicago native who simply nodded as the two men continued to tease you.

throwing your head back you let out another moan, your underwear soaked at this point simply by the fact of phil teasing your clothed clit with his cock and maxwell tormenting your breasts with his hands, kneading at them as your nipples hardened under his touch, "more daddy- please-" you begged and took a sharp breath.

lifting your arms up, maxwell helped rid you of the black dress and phil briefly picked you up off your feet to slip the combat boots which were discarded haphazardly toward the floor.

you looked down and attempted to take your underwear off which caused phil to shake his head, "not yet, baby. don't think we forget about your little request."

phil took his clothing off and laid back on the sofa, luring you over with a finger wave as you straddled his thigh he pushed his knee up against your clit.

"go ahead and get off on my thigh, babygirl." your cheeks heated up once given permission as you began to ride his thigh, soft whimpers and moans already falling from your lips at the friction being created from your underwear.

"look at you.. soaked already and you haven't even had a cock inside you yet. just imagine how messy you're gonna be with both me and max inside you." the mere thought of what phil just said caused you to ride his thigh even faster, the moans becoming louder, your attention being adverted for a moment as you looked over in the corner to see maxwell jerking himself off in the chair, "don't stop doll, 'wanna watch." he spoke with a pant and you kept eye contact with maxwell while moaning out, "mmm-fuck!"

you were clearly falling apart on the chicago native, his cock hard while watching the curved beauty above him get off on just his thigh. "daddy- i'm so close-" you whined and grinded up against the man before making even more of a mess in your underwear.

"fuck- i'm close too babygirl-" maxwell spoke in broken breaths and phil gave you the okay to leave his thigh but not before he took your underwear as a sort of token to his accomplishments.

you crawled off the sofa, ass in the air which was definitely a sight to see for phil as your clit was still soaked from moments before. you dropped down to your knees infront of maxwell who had cum already dripping from the tip of his cock.

you stuck your tongue out and gave him kitten licks, looking up at maxwell with hooded eyes as his hands wrapped around in your hair and tugged gently while you took more of his length in and sucked lovingly. the man was already edging himself so it didn't take long for him to fill the entirety of your mouth with his warm seed, "i forgot to buy cake but that was some good as hell frosting." you smirked and wiped the remainder of the cum off your lips.

"always more where that came from, baby. however when the clock strikes midnight we get to have fun our way."

"what does your way entail exactly, phil?" you asked in a shy tone.

"well.. let's just say instead of crying over a stupid ex it will be because of overstimulation or.." phil looked around the room, a smirk growing on his lips, "cause we tied you up with this pastel ribbon. all depends if you're a good girl for us or not. isn't that right?"

you nodded your head, "yes sir, but i rather like that idea."

maxwell stood up from the chair and approached you, "what do you say we try it out tonight?"

you nodded your head so fast if you were a bobble head it would have popped off, eager to have more fun with the two men. "yes, pretty please."

"oh.. look how desperate she is to be tied up and filled with two cocks... think she can handle us both at the same time?" maxwell asked phil.

"let's find out and see."

phil picked you up and carried you to the sofa, placing kisses on each wrist before tying them together with pastel ribbon.

"ass up, legs spread." maxwell used a demanding tone of voice which had you dripping, he ran his fingers along your folds, "such a good girl already. prepared for the devil to corrupt you?" it wasn't a question, more of a warning as he slid into your entrance, giving you little time to adjust in attempts to grasp at the sofa.

"fuck, such a beautiful sight. look at her already clenching onto you so tight max.." phil hummed and entered himself slowly into your asshole, nearly hissing at how tight you were.

"p-phil- you're huge!" you yelled out, head barely able to think of a single thought while being stuffed full of two humongous cocks.

phil slapped you on the ass while entering the rest of his cock into you slowly as maxwell started to thrust, "that's daddy to you, got it?"

"uh-mhmm! yes daddy!" words became incoherent mumbles once the two men picked up speed, both making sure you were okay but at the same time whispering absolute filth into your ears as you clenched around their lengths as if your life depended on it.

"f-fuckk! you both feel amazing!" grunts and groans alike fell from both their lips and you could've sworn you heard them both call each other daddy, leaving you to wonder what they did in the midnight hour before adding a woman into the mix. you were never one to judge but with you there it was three times the charm.

the moans became increasingly louder as they pounded into you relentlessly, you'd all probably end up with a noise complaint sooner or later.

"go ahead and cum babygirl.. we can feel how close you are." you felt the heat of the chicago native's breath up against your ear, "yes sir." the flood gates were open as you came around maxwell's cock and he released inside of you while phil did the same. the three of you continued to ride out the high but you were the most worn out.

phil was the first to pull out as cum dripped from his tip all the way down from your asshole, "i was 'gonna save this for later but.. you should open it now." he handed you a small black box wrapped with a gold bow, the contents inside being a butt-plug.

your eyes went wide as you looked over at the chicago native, "what am i supposed to do with this?"

"think y'know.. sweetheart.. want you to sleep with it in as a reminder who owns that ass." he smirked and took the plug from your hand before inserting it inside your body.

"y-yes sir, thank you for the gift daddy." you placed a kiss to the chicago native's lips which he then returned and nipped at your lower lip, leaving you to want more.

maxwell had been keeping you warm in a way with his cock as you felt him continue to twitch inside you, a whine falling from your lips when he pulled out aswell.

"don't worry baby. there is much more where that came from." maxwell revealed a brown gift bag with the words burberry inscribed on the outside.

you sat back on the couch, still panting a bit while opening the gift from max which was a matching set of burberry lingerie in just your size, on the side was a pair of angel ears.

pouting you looked between the two men and they each furrowed their eyebrows, "what's wrong, baby?"

"just wanted something to keep this cum inside me. love being full of both my daddies icing like a cake." you grinned up at them as phil had something hid behind his back, a matching plug to the one gifted, "you're in luck."

yawning, the night activities started to take a toll on you so you got dressed in the lingerie which would surely be torn apart by morning and you kept the chicago native's gifts quite warm aswell.

once returning from the washroom, maxwell and phil were in their boxers and you cuddled up between them on the sofa before shutting your eyes as they each placed a kiss to your cheek.

"how was your birthday?" maxwell asked as you rested against his shoulder and you scratched the chicago native's beard softly, noticing him start to drift off toward slumber with your loving touch.

"best birthday ever. thank you both so much. now get some sleep, knuckleheads."

phil slapped your ass playfully in response, "goodnight, babygirl."

#mjf #cm punk #maxwell jacob friedman #cmjf #mjf x reader #mjf x female reader #mjf x fem reader #cm punk x female reader #cm punk x fem reader #mjf smut #cm punk smut #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #cm punk (gn) #all elite wrestling smut #wrestling fanfiction

[zensations35]

King of Madness

Soooo, I knocked this thing out in like 48 hours. Because when inspiration strikes, nothing makes sense. This is an Orestes fic based on Greek mythology retellings. It's a different style than I normally write, but I did it this way to keep it loyal to the source material. I also wrote it specifically to be read as an audio fic, so, enjoy that! A little background: The furies are causing Orestes to hallucinate and Menelaus is trying to catch him acting mad so he can take over Orestes’ kingdom. It’s all very political and petty. Ok! Enjoy!

Pylades sweeps into the room, cloak whirling around his feet as he dips so quickly he cracks his knee on the smooth floor of the bedchamber.

“My King,” his voice is firm, respectful. Only slightly pitched with worry.

Orestes reclines--slumps really--against the headboard of the carved wooden cradle of the bed. He looks much worse than Pylades last saw him. Dark curls damp his brow, his visible flesh shiny and scented with the gleam of oils and sweat from his mental decline.

“Did…” Orestes chokes on the word, his lips dry, breaths hot like baked earth. “Did you bring it?”

Pylades pulls out a wooden box, gold filigree carved in the sides and woven in floral patterns.

“Yes, My King, but I know not why.”

Orestes shifts to sit upright and winces. His head spins and he swears he catches the sight of a sinister shadow just out of his field of vision.

“Open the box,” he says. “Dab the oil on your wrist.”

Pylades is dying to ask more, but he obeys. Even he concedes to Mycenae’s ruler.

The bottle of oil in the box is a voluptuous glass with amber liquid inside. He does what he is told and spreads a dollop around his wrist. 

The odor is pungent, the sweet earthy scent of flowers permeating the air. 

Orestes drinks in a liquid sniff. “Yes--that is the one.”

Pylades’s brow furrows. “Is this…the scent you react to?”

“It is.” 

“My King, my Lord…why?” 

Another sniff, this one punctured by a swift intake of breath. Orestes nose tips skyward and his lower lip quivers. Then his chest deflates with a sigh. He brings up a hand to whisk under his twitching nose. 

“Menelaus comes for me. We must convince him my fevers are illness, not madness.”

“And you wish me to…”

Orestes presses the circle of his fingers into Pylades’ wrist. “You must aggravate my symptoms from the oil. But do not let my Uncle know what causes it. We must be--”

Orestes shivers, his breaths slick with panic. His eyes catch the sight of something above him, but he dares not look. “I-I'm not…” he cinches his lids, curling into himself and shuddering. He can hear them--the furies--cackling in the rafters, screeching.  

Orestes smothers his face in his palms, muffling his mania. “I c-can't! I…I see them! I see--!” His voice pitches into hysteria and Pylades moves closer. 

“My Lord, Orestes,” he breathes, steadying his voice, guiding his King back to the realm of reality. “You are here. You are safe. You are in Ithaca. You are safe!” 

Orestes blinks shadows from his eyes and seals his lips. A beat of his heart, and then he sighs. “I…yes. I am…” 

A bull of a knock makes both men flick eyes to the door. 

“Nephew?”

Heart thudding in his neck, Orestes’ grip tightens on Pylades’ arm and he wrenches his wrist close, dipping his nose into the heartbeat of his skin. He inhales. 

“Nephew? I--”

Orestes doesn’t hear the rest. His lungs crackle with force as he guzzles a breath. “HfSH-Mnn-!” 

That silenced Menelaus. But his footsteps do not retreat. Orestes knew he wouldn’t. But now he knows this plan should work--as long as Pylades reads the cues as well as he does in battle. 

Pylades helps Orestes stand and hobble to the door. His normally bouncy curls stick flat and limp against his slick brow. 

The door creaks open and Orestes stands in the hollow arch. Menelaus is there, bold and ready to enter. 

“Nephew, kin of my kin,” his shoulders bob--barely a bow but no one, no one, would insult the great Menelaus by questioning his prowess at bowing. 

“I have come to escort you to the feast.”

“Uncle,” Orestes offers a respectful nod. He ambles forward, detaching himself from Pylades. 

Menelaus watches them, a spark in his eyes that is close to malice. And then, gone. Replaced by a Kingly smile. “We have not started without you. I told them, I said, ‘We must wait. We mustn’t start without the King! Not without the Lord of Mycenae.’” 

Menelaus is so close now, Orestes can smell the sour wine upon his breath and Menelaus can see Orestes’ sweat bathed forehead. The King of Sparta licks his teeth, eyes narrow and clever. 

Orestes turns away to sniffle politely and cough. 

“Your illness seems not to have improved.” Menelaus scans the room. “Where might Elektra be?”

“She helps the women prepare the feast, of course.”

A raised brow in mock surprise. “Who cares for you, then, nephew? Your noble hand,” he gestures to Pylades. “I thought him capable in battle, no? Such a good man. A good soldier.”

“Pylades does just as well with other tasks.”

“Sickness is inherent in your family, is it not?”

A muscle feathers in Orestes’ cheek. “Are you implying, Uncle, that Agamemnon--your brother, greatest of Greeks--has a tainted bloodline?”

Menelaus chuffs, “Of course not. Obviously I meant in the matters of caring for ailments and illnesses, Elektra has experience with these. Wiping brows and blowing noses is women’s work.”

Orestes stiffens. “I find it distasteful to assume men cannot perform such simple tasks.” He twitches his head to the side to hide a silky curve of his lips. “But perhaps it is more Kingly to see women as superior in some aspects.” 

Menelaus’ eyes flash, a peevishness hooding his eyes. He blinks it away. “How silly of me, very silly. I know not enough about your condition to say.” He tilts his head to the side, shifting his bulk from one foot to the other. “What exactly ails you, my nephew?”

Orestes opens his mouth to speak but instead of words escaping, air flows in. 

Pylades, taking the subtle cue, places his oiled hand on Orestes’ shoulder. 

Orestes turns his head as if to look at Pylades, nose pinking from the cloying scent a mere hairsbreadth away. 

“My King…” 

Orestes dips in a small sigh, brushing his nose against Pylades’ perfumed skin. “Hih-ieh!” his chin juts upward, nostrils jumping to life, “Hnk-ZZHeu!” His body warps and coils, avoiding Pylades’ skin with the spray. 

A thick sniffle follows and he knuckles the itch still lingering behind. 

Pylades notices the dizzying intensity of the sneeze. Notices every muscle Orestes must use to keep himself standing and stoic. He notices the slight tremor in Orestes’ legs, though the robe shades it from Menelaus’ notice. 

“My sickness is from Thebes, come about when merchants came into the city for trade. It is quite Hie-TZHhhh-! Hn…” a thick swallow. “It is quite contagious. This is why Pylades cares for me. He has already been through the ailment.”

Menelaus rocks back on his heels, feeling the weight of his body rolling up and down his joints, his muscles. “Contagion is a myth.”

Orestes plasters on a smile. “I am glad to hear you say that, Uncle. I would hate to miss tonight’s festivities beca--” his eyes widen. The furies are there. Just above, in his field of vision. They giggle and cackle and caw. 

One of them reaches down with a long, blackened finger, and curls it upward in an arcing motion.

“Hhh-ih!” Orestes feels the pull of his sinuses, as if his breaths were on a puppet string attached to the finger of the furies. The others giggle, glee replacing anger. Torment amuses them. 

The finger lifts higher and his nose follows the motion.”Hhh-hh…”

Menelaus stares at him. Pylades stares at him. For the other men, it seems a normal, if highly exaggerated sneeze. 

But it is not. It is well controlled by the furies. A monument of torturous prickles, like hanging partially off a cliff. “--ieh-HHh-Hhhihh!”  Orestes’ nose stands poised, nostrils glistening, eyes wet, blurring their shadowy forms. 

His chest swells, hitches coming like a songbird in his throat. And then, with a skip of his heart, “Hieh-TSZHSHH-! EGK’TNNKSHEU!” 

The sounds ripping from his throat casts Orestes forward, stumbling so hard that Pylades wraps warm hands around his King’s shoulders to steady him. 

Menelaus, eyes wide, teeters back. Takes a small step in retreat, before catching himself, anger hardening his features. Menelaus, King of Sparta, recognizes when to withdraw. 

“Perhaps, nephew, you should pray to the gods for recovery first,” he says, sweeping back through the door. “I shall send my best priest to your chamber.” He peeks over his shoulder, lips curling. “After all, we want the best care for the King of Kings, do we not?”

The door bangs shut. Footsteps retreat. And then, unable to hold himself up any longer, Orestes falters, collapsing to the marbled floor. 

Pylades dives for him, heartbeat threading through his throat. “My Lord, my Lord--” he holds Orestes in his arms. The King of Mycenae, son of Agamemnon, weak like liquid in his embrace. 

“Pylades,” Orestes pants, hand fumbling, searching. “I…I…” he speaks with the ashes of fatigue, his energy burned away from the mere act of standing too long.

Pylades touches the back of his hand to his King’s brow. The closeness of his wrist lights a fire in his nose. 

 “Hih-EXTSHue! HihTSHHoo!” His neck bends, moisture painting Pylades’ hands. He can’t suppress his shudders, lips trembling as he speaks. “Apologies. Apologies--I--”

“My Lord, all is well. Menelaus has gone. You are safe, you are safe…I will care for you.”

Orestes slumps further into Pylades and sighs. “It is rotten work.”

Pylades’ finger drifts over his thumb, “Not to me.” He uses the folded cloth of his robe to dab at Orestes’ cheek. “Not if it’s you.”

#snz #snz audio #snz audiobook #snz wav #snz fic #gre/ek mythol/ogy #or/estes #py/lades #illness #whump #allergies #inducing #induce fic #tw mental illness #yall will have to forgive me for how weird this is #but I'm literally obsessed with the way this narrator narrates #and I completely dove in the attempt to mimick her #zen fic #zen fanfic #i also used the actual ship quote there at the end #because WHY THE FDKS NOT #ITS SO GOOD #all of my pronunciations are also based on the audiobook #and i had to go kinda fast so the audio would all fit on tumblr #but yeeehhhh #zen audio

[dyslexicmammon]

Unwanted

Chapter two

Characters: Lucifer (Obey me!), Solomon (Obey me!) [not together]

CW// SFW, Angst, Yelling, Implied Lucifer x Mc, Implied Solomon x Mc, Nightbringer MC/attendant MC, Unhealthy coping mechanisms (drinking), You/Your & they/them pronouns used, Mammon & reader

Word count: 2,030

A/N: Hello again! Finally wrote chapter 2!~ I've had this sitting in my docs for ages i just couldn't bring myself to post it. I'm not confident in my writing but I'm getting there! I have an idea for chapter 3 but I don't know how long it will take me. I write all of my idea in one siting and painfully re-read it and edit to a point where i think its okay to post aha. I wanted to thank everyone for the notes & hits the first chapter got, it has been a big boost in my writing confidence. Thank you all!! Take care reader

Chapter 1 / Ao3 / Divider credits

“What the FUCK did you do Lucifer!” Mammon stopped the chase as soon as the shield went up. Spinning around and walking back into the foyer of the HOL. He slammed the door behind him before yelling again, so full of anger his wings twitched. “WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU DO?!”. Not taking into account how his own actions that day could have done the similar damage.

His anger only grew as the Avatar of Pride responded with the same tone. “SILENCE MAMMON.” Tears prick slowly in the prideful demon's eyes as he quickly makes his way back to his study. Ignoring the screams of his younger brother calling his name.

As he walked down the hallway, the smell of a meal not yet enjoyed slowly started up on him. For the first time since the fall, Lucifer, the Pride of Celestial Realm, became overwhelmed with an emotion he deemed pitiful.

Sadness…

At first his cries were silent. Only the sounds of his breaths hitching as tears welled up in his eyes escaped him. He walked into his study and slammed the door hard behind him. Causing the walls of the House to shake. Locking it swiftly after. Not just with the physical lock but with a spell that not even Lord Diavolo could break.

Mammon yelled after his brother. Demanding he get an answer for why their attendant had just stormed out in tears. He stomped his way up the stairs and made his way to Lucifer's study, ready to give him an earful till his lungs gave out. Mammon followed behind Lucifer as the door slammed followed by a bright light flashed, blinding him temporarily. A faint outline of gold began to surround the door. The surface of the door now shines and shifts like mica powder in oil. A loud, heavenly bell began to ring. The long, drawn out hum rang in Mammons ears.

Quickly screwing his eyes shut and spinning around, Mammon rubbed his eyes hard. Trying to recover from the flash-bang.

After regaining his vision Mammon covered his ears with the palm of his hands and made a run for Levi's room. Stealing a pair of the avatars human standard noise cancelling headphones. They barely cut through the yells of the spell, but stopped it enough where he could drown it out with some music.

Mammon then sat outside Lucifer's room, leaning back and hitting his against the wall softly. He let out an exhausted, angry tinted sigh. His red face slowly dissipates as he calms himself down. Then the waiting game began. He sat outside his older brother's study till the old man had calmed down enough to ask him what the hell happened.

Once the spell fell from Lucifer's lips, he cursed himself out and began to sob. Clasping his gloved hand to his mouth, trying to calm down and keep his composure. He rubbed his upper arm and shoulders in a self soothing way. Fighting back his emotions.

Surely the attendant didn't have that much control over him? Not even his brothers could make him cry. No matter how hard the bastards try. He was stronger than this…

Then why did it hurt so much? The panic in your eyes as you met his gaze in the foyer. The strain in your voice as you yelled the lie that no one cared about you. What did he do wrong that you doubted it… doubted him? Knowing you were being comforted by someone of the likes of Solomon because of his own choices didn’t help the stinging feeling in his chest.

He threw off his gloves and coat. Painfully making his way to his desk, his chest heaving, the smell of the food you made became overwhelming to his senses again.

He looked down at the meal you made.. The tray was decorated with a little note and stickers of the two of you. By looking at the drawings he realised you had made them yourself.. All to try and cheer him up.

You had cooked his favourite stew and poured a glass of demonus for.. both of you? The more he studied the platter you brought the more he realised how bad he fucked up. Two bowls, two wine glasses full of demonus (he can tell you poured it as the glasses were almost full like a champagne flute), two sets of cutlery… Even two tiny bowls of dark chocolate ice cream that were now slowly melting from the heat of the stews surrounding them.

One of the ice creams was absolutely covered in sprinkles. It was so painfully obvious it was your serving. Plain, boring, dark chocolate was his favourite flavour of ice cream at the moment. You didn’t seem to sing the same praises but always ate it anyways. Always trying to find a way to sweeten it up and make it more palatable for your taste buds…

You always ate it with him anyway… Even when your little experiments fell through and didn’t make it sweet enough for you. Lucifer always said that you were sweet enough for him which is why he ate the dark chocolate dessert.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the dishes any longer. Hanging his head in shame. He pushed the platter away from himself as he sat down. Just enough that he could rest his head on the table. Feeling his stomach start to churn and a lump form in his throat, he began to sob again quietly. Squeezing his hands together and pushing his nails into his skin, causing it to bruise. Trying to divert the aching pain of his heart.

Had he really been so caught up in his work he didn’t notice or care that you made dinner specifically for the both of you so he didn’t have to leave his office? Had he really not noticed the two bowls before opening his fucking mouth? Did he even look up?.. Did he really snap at you like that?..

His thoughts swallowed him whole.

He didn’t touch the food. He had lost his appetite long ago when he had returned to his study. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to indulge in the meal you had meticulously prepared without you being here, enjoying it with him.

He did however help himself to the demonus. He drank the glass you had poured for him. Then your own glass. Then he opened a new bottle he had stashed away in his room. He poured multiple glasses, losing himself to the pain. He had gotten halfway through the bottle when his D.D.D pinged. He launched himself at his phone that laid screen down on the desk. Picking it up desperately and fumbling it in his hands. Desperately hoping it was you. Only to be disappointed when he realised it was Solomon.

The text read “They are at home and are staying with me tonight. They do not wish to talk to you at the moment and I trust that you can respect that boundary for now. I will ask them to make contact with you in the morning. Whether they do that or not is their choice.” His phone buzzed again. A follow up text coming soon after. “Goodnight Lucifer.” The words repeated and echoed in his mind till the screen went black. Reflecting the absolute mess Lucifer was back at him.

His teary eyes met his reflection. Quickly darting from place to place on his face. His cheeks were darker than the rest of his face. His hair was all out of place and disheveled. Eyelids already puffy and sore… He looked just as pathetic as he felt.

As he stared at his reflection his eyes began to lose focus and his heart became heavy. Were you scared of him? Did you not want to talk to him ever again? Had he fucked up so bad he had scared off the first person to show his ‘new self’ love?

He grabbed the neck of the half empty bottle of demonus and smashed it against his lips. The sudden feeling of cold glass on his lips made him jolt up slightly. Tipping his head back, he let the now lukewarm liquid rush down his throat. Chugging the rest of the bottle. Why was he drinking? This isn’t healthy. Surely he, the Avatar of pride, wasn't drinking his feelings away.

He wallowed in his own pity for a couple more hours. Each brother coming passed to ask him how to do something. To ask him if he's okay or to ask Mammon for his headphones back.

Beel brought up some leftovers for his brothers. He couldn't rest knowing his older brothers were in such a state. As he walked down the hall, Beel heard a loud snoring sound. His gaze met Mammon's sleeping body. He placed the plate down next to his older brother and snuck away quietly. The disgustingly loud ringing sound of the spell he cast on the door pushed them all away before they started to linger. Making sure no one could hear Lucifer's pathetic sobs of your name.

Lucifer placed his head on his desk once more with some force. Knowing he’s going to have to take the day off tomorrow.. Maybe even the next. Already feeling the headache roll in. How was he going to mend this mistake? He couldn’t just show up to Cocytus Hall and beg for your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it.. Feeling exhausted from hours of crying and drinking. His puffy eyes fluttered shut as he passed out at his desk.

As soon as he lost consciousness, the spell on the door fell. Mammon had managed to unpick the physical lock hours ago. Now sleeping lightly outside his brother's office with a plate of food, some water and the headphones still on.

When the half silent ringing in Mammon's ears stopped. He shot up, yawning and stumbling over the weird pile of things he had managed to accumulate while sleeping. Where did this food come from? That didn’t matter. It was time he got answers out of the eldest brother.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and looked to see where Lucifer was. His eyes darted around the room frantically. The faint snoring led his gaze to the large desk where the Avatar of Pride was hunched over, out like a light & snoring softly.

Mammon just shook his head and walked over to his sleeping brother. All his previous anger dissipated as he studied the absolute disarray Lucifer's desk was in.

Gently and subconsciously he began petting his brothers back softly with one hand as he messaged Beel with his other. Asking the strong Avatar to come help him move Lucifer to his bed. While waiting for Beel, Mammon tidied Lucifer's desk. Sorting his documents out and shaving Lucifer's to-do pile down as much as he could. Prepared to take what documents he could complete himself.

He wiped the demonus Lucifer had dribbled and spilled off the large wooden desk. Once Mammon had finished, almost comically, the Avatar of gluttony walked in as silently as he could into the room. Meeting Mammon’s gaze and nodding softly. Standing on the other side of Lucifer's exhausted body. Beel picked up his eldest brother with ease, placing him on his back like a back pack. They began to walk out. Mammon walked in front of Beel, holding onto the documents and throwing the paper towel away that he had used.

After about 10 minutes they had finally made it to Lucifer's bedroom. Placing him in his bed and tucking him in. Before leaving they gently put one of his records on and placed some water and a large bucket next to the head of the bed. Just in case Lucifer couldn’t make it elsewhere once he woke up.

They both left his room as quiet as possible.

They high fived the second the door to Lucifer's bedroom closed. After saying their goodnights and goodbyes they parted ways to go to their separate rooms.

Mammon made his way to his room and stayed up for the rest of the night, doing the rest of Lucifer's office work.

#mauks writing #mauk needs to shut up #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #obey me mc #lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #solomon x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #solomon x reader #solomon obey me #om! solomon #om! lucifer #omswd #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me x you #obey me solomon x reader #shall we date obey me #lucifer <3 #unwanted // lucifer fic

[countryclubkook]

The Gold

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: season 2 spoilers, angst, mentions of death of course, mentions of alcohol

Summary: Rafe has changed since the hunt for gold started and you’ve had enough. But then tragedy strikes and you feel like things are finally getting better, then something unexpected happens and you have to make a choice

A/N: made some tiny adjustments to this and wanted to repost it, i was listening to phoebe bridgers ‘the gold’ when I wrote this the first time which heavily inspired it

You knew your relationship with Rafe had come to a standstill when you began to feel like he was a ceiling waiting to collapse on you at any moment. You spent 4 years with each other and it all came crashing down in one month, it's funny how things work out sometimes. All the love you once felt for him was replaced by estranged thoughts and tears over what once was. You knew it wasn't all his fault, his father had a stronghold on him and he was desperate for his love and validation, but it still hurt you in the end.

“I love you and I miss you Rafe.” there was a tense silence before he spoke up.

“Yeah, love you. Look I've gotta go cause dad needs me. I'll see you soon.” it was all lies, his voice held the same distance it’s had for the last month.

“Okay.” this is how your phone calls had been for weeks now, it hurt more now to pretend the two of you were fine than not speaking at all but neither one of you wanted to admit to the other it was over, neither of you ready to admit it.

When news broke of Ward's death, you ran to the Cameron residence to see how Rafe was doing. He looked horrible, he had been crying and reeked of whiskey. He broke down in your arms and he didn't know if it was from losing his father or from feeling your comforting touch after so long. He hadn’t meant to neglect you or the relationship, but he was so worried about his father going back to hating him or thinking he was a disappointment again that it was all he could think about.

“I'm so sorry Rafe,” you told him while trying to hold yourself together. Ward wasn't a very good man, but you knew how much he meant to Rafe and it was still his dad at the end of the day. He still loved and grieved him.

“He's gone Y/N, he's really gone. I'm all alone again, i’ve got nobody.” the last part hurt you but you tried to ignore it, he gripped onto you harder than before as he began to sob.

“I'm right here Rafe, you’ve got me still. It’s going to be okay” you whispered, stroking his head trying to reassure him, but you were only met with silence. The only thing you could do was be there for him hold onto like a lifeline.

That was a few weeks ago and things seemed to be getting back to how they once were between you and Rafe, if not better than before. He’d been talking you out on more dates, trying to get clean, stepping up to take over the business. It felt like you truly had your Rafe back and you couldn’t be happier…that was until he had come to you saying Ward was actually alive and that he and his family had to leave in a few days but you weren't allowed to come with them. It was like a knife had stabbed you in your chest and that's when you knew, no matter what happened or how much you were there for him, how much you gave him your everything, how much you loved him, it would always be his dad that he chose. This wild hunt for gold and dire need for validation had changed him completely and his kisses didn't taste like the mint gum and whiskey you were once so addicted to, they tasted like poison.

“Rafe we need to talk.” you said solemnly, ushering towards the couch for him to sit.

“Sure what's wrong? Are you okay?” concern suddenly lacing his voice when he saw your face laced with sadness and defeat.

There was a tense silence for a moment, you took a deep breath before spitting out the one thing you were both terrified to admit, “I don't think I love you anymore.” there it was, the words you both knew were coming but too scared to say out loud finally out in the open. Maybe that's why it didn't come as a shock to either of you when you said it.

“What? Don't be crazy Y/N, of course you do.” he was just trying to fool himself, it wasn’t a surprise to him, he just didn’t want to lose his safety line. But he knew that wasn't true anymore. He had pushed you to the side and stopped caring about the relationship and you.

“No Rafe, I don't, and you don't love me anymore either so please, can we stop playing this game? It hurts too much to keep pretending and I don't want to do it anymore, I can't do it anymore.” tears streaming down your face as your voice broke. You needed him to let you go so you could being healing.

Rafe hated to see you cry, especially when he was the reason for your tears, but it was the truth. Pretending to still love each other and act like your relationship was fine was taking its toll on you and he knew it. He wanted to be selfish and keep you around as a safety blanket when things got worse after his dad but knew it had to end before he left.

“I still love you, I've always loved you. That was always real.” was the only thing he could say that was really genuine.

“I think that you believe you loved me but I don't think you really did. You don't do the things that you did to people you love. I think you've gone crazy searching for this stupid gold and I can't keep pretending otherwise. This good changed you, you’re not my Rafe anymore, you're a stranger to me. You don't have to hold me anymore Rafe so please, just let me go.” you pleaded, your voice desperate and distant. You hated to be so cold towards him but it was the only way this conversation would end the way it needed to.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I've got to go and prepare everything to leave. I did love you in the beginning though, regardless of whether you believe me or not. I'll see you around Y/N/N.” he said, tears forming in his eyes as he spoke to you for the last time without looking at you before walking out the front door for the final time.

That was the final straw for you, you burst into tears from both relief and heartbreak. The relief of being free from him and not having to pretend that the two of you were in love anymore and the heartbreak of losing what you thought was your forever person to that stupid fucking gold. It was finally over now and the only thing left to do was heal from the damage he caused and try to find happiness again.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #obx fic #obx rafe #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you