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#I like loud and overwhelming and constant!!!

chansondefortunio · 2 years

Note

thoughts on pelléas et mélisande

omg.... ok so I did really want to get into this opera.... but I'm very sorry to say that I can't stand dry or melodically-detached recitative. which UNFORTUNATELY seems to be the musical basis of this entire opera!!

its all terribly wagnerian, and I just can't tolerate that man in any capacity (even if i'd really like to.) Like D'Indy's Fervaal, the wagner fanboy opera. I really would like to like it, because Jean Mollien has sung the title role and the music is gorgeous, but i find the recitative so insufferable that I never want to come back and listen to it.

It's like the music moves separately from the voices, that are themselves warbling around in indiscernible melodies. and then sometimes they come together and youre like wow!! this is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard!! and then it ends. Which I understand people do like, and I can totally see the appeal!! but its not for me.

Maybe someday I'll get into it... but for now Pelléas et Mélisande lies in my "regretfully uninteresting" category.

#I like loud and overwhelming and constant!!!#Also sorry this took so long to reply to I forgot it in my drafts...#opera

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sunarc · 5 months

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Boys who can’t control their moans so instead of holding back they just sink their teeth into your neck to let off some steam. He’s losing his mind. His cock is buried deep inside of you while his head is shoved into the crook of your neck. His moans are loud paired with the squeaking of the bed. His hands hold your legs apart spreading you open so he can fuck himself deeper inside of you.

“Fuck you drive me crazy baby” he groans.

His hips slam into yours creating a pattern of rough thrust that leaves you drooling, moaning his name. He’s been going for so long he’s fucking the two of you into overstimulation. Your whimpers sound like music to his ears, telling him you can’t take it, begging him to slow down. You’ve come so many times already and he’s determined to make you cum again.

“I- I can’t” you whimper. Your voice is a broken whine barely heard over the sounds of his cock diving into your cunt but he hears you. The smirk that grows on his face when he hears your cries is menacing.

“You can take it , I know you can. Listen to how this pussy is begging for me, she’s basically calling my fucking name” his voice his like silk whispering the words in your ear.

His tongue glides against your neck up to your ear. Your moans come out as broken sobs singing his name. His cock grows harder hearing how you call out to him.

“That’s it, say my name, tell me who fucks you this good” his voice sounds like a low growl.

Your trembling, mind gone with only pleasure and lust clouding your thoughts. Your nails drag down his back leaving marks he’ll smile proudly at later. You can barely form a sentence. Your words come out as a mix of slurred versions of his name and whimpers about how close you are.

“I knew you could do it” he purrs

His thrusts are slow, long and hard. Your hands shakily grab onto his shoulder desperately clinging onto him .

“Please please please” you whine.

“Please what? You want my cum?” He knows what you want, he just wants to hear you say it.

You fumble over your words continuously being caught in a moan. Your legs wrap around him pushing him deeper inside. You're overwhelmed by the pleasure . You squeeze your eyes shut feeling tears glide down your cheeks.

“Aww is my poor baby, Can’t take my cock?” He chuckles, licking the tears that stream down your face.

His thrust picks up speed. His hips slam into yours at a ruthless pace.

“Come on baby, give me one more and I promise I’ll lick that sweet pussy until your nice and clean”

He can’t contain the moans that spill past his lips. He bites your shoulder while he plunges his cock into you at a constant pace. His teeth dig into your skin earning him a soft cry. Your mouth hangs open, stuck between pain and pleasure. Your orgasm drowns you. Your body trembles as your nails cling onto him. Your legs tighten around him holding him in place. Your heart beats against your chest like a drum as you breathe heavily coming down from your high. He licks at the bite mark while pressing loving kisses to your skin. His lips meet yours with a delicate touch compared to his previous rough actions. Your lips dance against each other in sync to the beat of your hearts.

“You were so good for me” he whispers in between kisses. “Let me clean you up baby”

He kisses a trail down your trembling body to your core. His eyes gaze at the way your core glistens like stars in the night.

“So messy for me” he moans at the sight.

He dives in, licking a long strip between your slit.

“Don’t worry I’ll clean you up my messy baby”

~Grimmjow, Toji, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Tsukishima, Kuroo, Matsukawa, Atsumu, Oikawa, Suna, Connie, Armin, Eren

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voyeurmunson · 3 days

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18+ hoes

Eddie’s calloused fingers dig into your hips, pressing you hard into the mattress as you squirm beneath him. “Eddie please.. I can’t.” you whimper pathetically, the sound only making him chuckle into your warmth.

“Gonna give me one more, sweetheart.” he mumbles drunkenly before his long tongue is lapping at your soaked cunt once again.

“I- Eddie, I can’t.” you squeal as tears flood your cheeks, your clit puffy and red from his constant torture.

“Wasn’t a request, Princess. Now give me one more.” he smirks up at you just as he shoves three thick fingers inside your pussy, immediately curling them right into your sweet spot.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” the word falls from your lips again and again as Eddie brings you right to the edge of your sixth orgasm.

“P-please. Eddie please.” you whine, your heels dig into the mattress as you try to push your body away from him begging for an ounce of relief. It does nothing but make him fuck his fingers into you faster. The loud squelching of your drenched pussy heard above all else.

“That’s not your safe word, baby.” Eddie winks up at you before burying his face once again, his lips wrapping around your sensitive clit, tugging it into his mouth relentlessly. Your entire body feels like it’s floating, every touch from him making it that much harder to breathe.

You can taste your safe word on your lips, your body completely overwhelmed, your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, your cries coming out hoarse as he continues destroying you. But you keep quiet. Because you want it. You need it.

You let go one more time, allowing yourself to give into him entirely. You feel your pussy walls clenching down hard around his ringed fingers as your head falls back into the soft sheets. Stars flood your vision as your hips jerk against his hold on you.

Eddie pops off your clit, his eyes now locked on your beautiful face as your mouth drops open with a silent scream. “Fuck, there it is. Let it all go baby. Such a good slut for me. Soak my fuckin’ hand.”

You can barely hear his words of praise as your highest high hits you. You can feel the warmth as your cum runs down to your ass, your thighs soaked as well.

Eddie gives you a second for your body to relax before he slowly removes his fingers, bringing them straight to your lips, making you suck them clean. He leans down licking a long stripe against your pussy, your hand automatically reaching out, striking him hard across the cheek. Your eyes widen as a dark smile forms on his pretty lips.

“Oh, baby. Now you’re in for it.”

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson blurb #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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royalsweetteaa · 1 year

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Hi can you do a Steve Rogers x shy reader smut

Where she’s shy to make moans while Steve paces harder to make a moan🥰

Title: Music to my ears

Pairing: dom!Steve Rogers x shy!reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following fic contains: explicit smut, smut with no plot, fluff, rough sex, dom!Steve Rogers, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, p in v sex, cumshot, praise kink, pet names.

It’s quiet as the only noise echoing in the bedroom is the queen sized bed squeaking.

Steve is on top of you, entering the stage of home base as he pushes the tip of his cock past your pussy lips and into your pulsing core. He already goes into a steady pace with your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

Your breathing becomes heavier, but that’s about the only sound he gets to enjoy from you while he in contrast audibly grunts. Light squeaks leave your lips at best, and while he absolutely adores those short little noises, he knows there’s more in you.

He knows you’re ashamed and you keep feeling the need to suppress those moans and cries as he makes you feel good with the way his cock hits your cervix with each thrust.

He has heard you scream from horror before as you have watched scary movies together, so he knows the high level of sound your lungs can create.

And oh, how he wishes to hear you scream from pleasure.

Steve doesn’t stop praising you as he continues to roll his hips against yours, his huge cock thrusting in and out of your tight hole, making you see stars by how much he fills you.

“Feels so good being inside of you, baby…” Steve groans as he closes his eyes for a moment, taking in the way your pussy sucks in his cock as he drags himself out before he fucks home again. “I’m going to move a little faster from now on, is that okay?”

You nod shyly as Steve plunges in deeper, and you quickly slap a hand around your mouth to keep quiet as the pool of arousal in your abdomen tests your limits. Already by then, you pick up the look of disapproval Steve pulls, and you frown.

“A-ah, no covering your mouth. I won’t allow it anymore...” Steve sets the new rule as he pins your hand to the side, making your eyes go wide as blood rushes through your cheeks.

“B-But…- mmmhaaah!” A sudden mewl is ripped out of you as Steve starts to pound into you faster, his heavy balls beginning to slap against your ass at the quicker pace.

You become overwhelmed, your mouth left hanging to let out cries for each thrust Steve performs. Embarrassment showers over you like cold water, but the heat from Steve’s breath tickling your neck and the constant friction is enough to distract you from it.

In final attempts you try to keep your mouth shut, but Steve surprises you yet again as he holds you by the chin and kisses you, slipping in his tongue to meet yours. It’s beyond erotic, and it prevents you from keeping any noises slip. When he pulls back, he gives you the warmest smile, stroking your cheek ever so lovingly before he speaks.

“I know you’re shy, hun…but I’m about to show you how much I want to hear you…how desperate I am to have you moan for me…if you won’t allow yourself to make noises, I’ll have to force them out myself.”

He thrusts harder, making sure you feel every inch of his thick shaft slide inside of your wet cunt. Your eyes roll back with your head as you let out the loudest moans you have ever made before. Steve holds you by the hips, pulling you back as he slams into you, causing his cock to enter you ever so deep. You cry out so loud you think everyone in the city must be hearing it, but Steve’s hums of delight reassures you there’s nothing to worry about.

“Mmmh, my love…I could never say enough about how wonderful you sound. Keep making those sounds, be as loud as you want. Let me know how amazing it feels to be stretched…how much you crave to be fucked…”

“O-Oh Steve…Aaaaah!~ Feels too good! I-I can’t - nngh!~ M’gonna cum!” Cries and moans escape your mouth uncontrollably now as Steve pounds away, making him grin with pride. There it is, he thinks.

“That’s my girl…cum for me, doll…sing for me…”

Your back arches against him as you reach your climax through a cry, making your cunt hug Steve’s cock tighter as a new flow of wetness surrounds inside. Steve grunts and snaps his hips into you once more before pulling out, cumming all over your stomach and making a hot mess.

He pants with his chest rising, and hovers over you one last time to kiss your lips tenderly before he lays down to rest next to you.

Steve sighs with content, “That was…”

“Embarrassing…” you barely mutter with your palms hiding your face.

Steve frowns, and let’s out a sudden chuckle as he playfully pinches your cheek, “It was no such thing, my love. Quit speaking nonsense. You were amazing…made me cum so hard and fast hearing your cute cries as you clung onto me desperately during your orgasm…you’re my precious doll…” he picks a towel by the nightstand and cleans his mess off your stomach before he drags you closer to him, giving your shoulder a peck.

“…I love every part and aspect of you. Don’t think otherwise...” He whispers, and it makes your stomach swirl with butterflies at his reassurance.

N/A: Thank you for some inspiration, anon! This became just a simple drabble but it helped getting my writing skills in use!

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! Thank you! <3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader smut

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lymtw · 21 days

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When you let Toji accompany you in the dressing room

"Toji, um," you struggle with your balance, wobbling when he starts pulling down your underwear. "I don't think this is a good idea. There's a really big gap in this stall. People can see us, or at least me."

He makes you take a few steps back with him until his back meets the wall you share with the next stall. "No one can see you now, okay? Come on." He slides his rough hand up your thigh, pulling your dress up to reveal your bare ass. "You look stunning in this dress, mama," he murmurs into your ear. "You're putting me through hell by having me just stand here and watch you try it on." His breath lures goosebumps out onto your skin. "Just makes me wanna fuck you in it." His other hand paws at your boob, squeezing it repeatedly.

"Well... what if they catch us?" You ask, your defense crumbling as he kisses your shoulder and up the slope to your neck.

"We'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

—

"F-Fuck, Toji—mmph..." Toji's hand comes up to muffle your sounds.

"Shh... mama. You trying to get us caught?"

You shake your head, but it's proving to be a lot harder than you initially thought. You knew it would be hard, but you didn't know you'd be so terrible at holding your sounds in.

"You look expensive, doll. You want this one?"

"Mhm..." you mumble into his palm.

"Yeah? You can have it. On one condition." He leans in close to your ear. "You only wear it for me."

"Mm-mm..." you shake your head and push his hand away from your mouth. "I-It's a dress, Toji."

"Clearly," he says, smugly.

"I-I wanna wear it out."

He kisses your neck. "That's not what I told you, baby. If you get it, it's for my eyes only." His grip tightens on your hips. "Can't have you prancing around in this little thing. All that spare attention on you," he chuckles in your ear. "my knuckles would never heal."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your hand holds onto the stall door, the lock rattling noisily.

"That got you?" He snickers. "You really are the embodiment of chaos." His hand continues to paw at your clothed breast. He can feel your nipple hardening over the material, something that fuels the lust his body is feeding you. He groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching sporadically.

"What's it gonna be? You gonna be good and wear it only for me, or are we leaving it behind?"

You don't hear a word he says, the adrenaline pumping through your veins blocking everything out.

"Am I talking to myself, now? Answer the question, baby."

You gasp, your head hanging low. "Mm... okay, okay. It's for you... o-only you."

"Smart girl," he murmurs. "Gonna look so pretty like this on my bed."

"C-Can I cum, please?"

"We're taking too long in here, huh?"

You nod, your grip on the door faltering as your legs threatening to give out.

"Alright, you gotta keep your voice down, though."

Toji reached down to overwhelm your neglected clit, enduring the way your body jolted at the rush of stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Feels good, huh? Make a mess on me.

You shudder, unraveling at the constant feeling of Toji thrusting into you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, almost drawing blood from how hard you bite. Your brows furrow, your eyes shutting tightly as you try your best to suppress the moans that are dying to leave your mouth. Toji watches you, a smirk on his face when he hears the smallest squeak slip out, followed by shuddered breathing.

"Good fucking girl," he praises. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he keeps rutting into you until he feels like he's about to burst. You tap his thigh when the overstimulation starts creeping in, falling to your hands and knees when he releases you and pulls his cock out to bust into his hand. You could hear his little hums and breaths behind you, a couple fucks muttered. This was his way of not groaning or moaning out loud when his load spurted out.

He looked down at you stretching your back on the floor, still on your hands and knees. The sight made him realize that this little incident wasn't enough to sate his lust for you.

"Get dressed," he says, tucking himself away. He watches you with a wolf-like hunger as you sluggishly take the dress off. You put your underwear back on and got dressed into your outfit. Green eyes bore into your frame as you tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible for when you exit. You could still see the lingering desire in his gaze when you told him you were ready to go.

You clung onto his arm, leaning against him as you walked out. He grabbed the tag number from the stall door and gave it to the woman working the dressing room area. She looked at the weary smile on your face and the random parts of hair that messily stuck out on your head. She reciprocated the smile but with worried eyes.

"We'll be taking this," Toji says, interrupting the woman's focus on you. He raises the dress by the coathanger it's on to briefly show it to her, before quickly dragging you away from her concerned expression.

"We're done here, right? Ready to go home?" Toji mumbles into your hair as he walks you back to the center of the store.

"Mhm, 'm tired. Just take me home already." You start trying to lead him towards the store's exit.

"Whoop, this way." He maneuvers both of you towards the register area. "Gotta pay first."

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flowercrowngods · 10 months

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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne.

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear.

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths.

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who—

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave.

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help.

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much.

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops.

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath.

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well. “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.”

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening?

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision.

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!”

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one.

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared.

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting.

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?”

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now.

He doesn’t.

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should—

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react.

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.”

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort.

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington.

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now.

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time.

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?”

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie!

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away.

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way.

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign.

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he—

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts.

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.”

A beat. “Everywhere.”

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.”

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?”

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech.

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what.

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now.

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.”

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die.

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake.

“Hagan did that to you?”

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?”

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.”

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.”

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?”

“What?”

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?”

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more.

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.”

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over.

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this.

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly.

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is somewhere between s3 and s4 obviously #but also i just re-read the op post and realised that this is nothing like what they wished for so uh. sorry? never trust me with prompts y #who did this to you #hurt steve #steve harrington whump #pre-steddie #sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah #dio words

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thewulf · 3 days

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Bound by Shadows || Azriel

Summary: Request - I'm hoping you could write a fanfic where reader, Feyre's twin, who actually killed the wolf but let Feyre take the credit... and before she realizes what she's done Feyre is gone. She struggles with guilt and isolation in Velaris after the sisters transformation by the Cauldron.... Read Rest Here

A/N: OKAY I LOVE THIS. It got away from me a bit. I didn't realize how fun this world would be to dive into. Let me know your thoughts as always :)

Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x Female Reader (Feyre Archeron Twin Sister)

Word Count: 8.2k +

TW: General ACOTAR TW

Under the starlit skies of Velaris the City of Starlight pulses with a life of its own. Its vibrant lights reflecting off the river with laughter and music filling the air, breathing life into every cobblestone and corner. But for you the city’s brilliance only deepens the shadows that cling to your soul. Shadows that no light seems capable of dispelling.

You walked alone. Your steps aimless being driven by the restless guilt that gnaws incessantly at your conscience. Every whisper of the wind seems to accuse you, every glance from a passerby seems to pierce through the facade you barely maintain. The weight of the secret you harbor presses down on you with every step… the wolf, the woods, the dreadful slice of the arrow that was meant to protect Feyre not harm her. But Feyre stepped forward and shouldered the blame. She was taken from you in an instant and forced to face the horrors of the faerie lands. It was all to shield you her twin she thought of being too gentle, too fragile for the brutal truths of that world.

The transformation wrought by the Cauldron has only magnified everything. Every emotion, every fear, every shard of guilt. It was supposed to be a rebirth but for you it feels more like a slow descent into a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The power that now courses through your veins feels like chains. A constant reminder of the price paid to the mother. Of the freedom you don’t believe you deserve.

As you wander through the bustling streets the sounds of celebration around you clash violently with the turmoil within. Families and lovers share warm, joyous moments. Their laughter echoing in the crisp night air while you drift among them. You were simply a specter unseen, untouched by the light of their joy. Your heart aches with a loneliness so profound it threatens to consume you whole. To reduce your existence to a mere shadow of regret and sorrow.

You find yourself on one of the many ornate bridges spanning the Sidra. A place you often found some sort of solace in. You leaned over the balustrade to gaze into the dark waters below. The reflection of the city’s lights dances across the surface, a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to stretch endlessly beneath. It is here in the quiet far enough away from the eyes of those who know you, those who worry over you, that your facade finally cracks.

Tears that were unbidden and unwelcome, spill over, tracing cold paths down your cheeks. You are tired. So incredibly tired of pretending. Of hiding the depth of your pain. You wish to scream so loud. To let out the anguish that fills you, but your voice is as lost as your soul feels in the face of your endless guilt. Instead, you just stare down at the dark waters with silent sobs wracking your body. It was better this way. You couldn��t let Feyre see you like this. She was finally so happy. So happy with her mate. Her Rhysand. You couldn’t threaten that happiness. You owed her so much more than that. You quite literally owed her your life. So, you would suck it up in solace. Cry it out on your own.

In the solitude of the night, you allowed yourself to feel your overwhelming emotions. To acknowledge the pain and the darkness. Little did you know you are not as alone as you believe. From the shadows an Illyrian figure watches you. His own heart heavy with unspoken secrets. Azriel was the spymaster of night court for a reason. He picked up on you disappearing for hours at a time when the others didn’t. He picked up on the fake smiles you threw everyone’s way. He seemed to pick up on it while the others didn’t… other than Feyre who seemed to watch you just as much as he did. He decided he would watch over you. For Feyre, his brothers mate. And for you. The woman who couldn’t seem to get used to being Fae as easily as your sisters did. The human turned Fae that consumed more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.

But for now, he waited behind his shadows. A silent guardian in the night recognizing that some battles must be faced alone before they can be shared.

You returned from the bustling markets of Velaris with arms laden with the myriad items Feyre requested. As you approach the townhouse the warm light from within spills out onto the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the dusk settling over the city. You pause at the door steeling yourself with a deep breath before stepping inside. Your smile as you hand the bags to Feyre doesn't quite reach your eyes. But she's too caught up in the moment to notice.

"Thank you so much," she says with a relief evident as she starts to unpack the food you’d volunteered to pick up for her. She pauses before she got too carried away giving you that look, the one you've come to know so well. The one that silently implores you to stay. To be a part of her world. "Will you stay for dinner? Everyone's coming over. Even Amren agreed to come. It would mean so much to me."

Her eyes are pleading and you know you can't refuse. Not when she's given up so much for you. With a nod you agree even as your stomach tightens at the thought of facing everyone. It was easy to fake your inner turmoil when it was only her or Rhys. But when it was the entirety of the Inner Circle it was harder to hide away. Inevitably someone would get you hooked in on a conversation. You haven't sat down with them since… well, since before the Cauldron. Since before everything changed. And that was almost an entire year ago now. You knew this request would come sooner or later. Though you were hoping for later you were going to suck it up for Feyre.

As the evening wears on the townhouse fills with laughter and conversation with everyone gathering in the familiar camaraderie that once felt like home to you. But now you feel like an outsider watching from the shadows even as you sit among them. At the dinner table you're terribly quiet. You were merely pushing food around your plate listening to the ebb and flow of conversations you can't force yourself to seem to join.

Feyre decided to sit beside you in hopes of calming your nerves. She notices. She notices the way your eyes were downturned. The way you occasionally nodded your head or smiled briefly pretending to be listening. The way you didn’t pick your fork up once. Her joy fades a little each time she glances your way. You didn’t notice the way her expression turned from mirth to concern. She squeezed your hand under the table in a silent message of solidarity and love. But even her touch can't pull you from the fog that's settled over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your punishment? To live in a hazed state for thousands of years? Oh, how you wished to be a tiny little human again with the promise of dead after a hundred years or so.

Rhysand sat at the head of the table catches Feyre’s subtle, worried glances towards her twin. She meets his eyes with a silent conversation passing between them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She needed help. He nods slightly. His expression was solemn, understanding the depth of her worry. His gaze then shifts to you filled with a quiet resolve. He knew you were struggling but didn’t pick up on just how much you were. You’d done a masterful job until tonight hiding it away.

Rhysand had felt the ripple of concern from Feyre long before she voiced it. Her distress over your withdrawal echoing within him. She watched you with a sister's keen eye and her silent worry bled into their shared bond. A testament to her deep care for you.

Azriel, Feyre is troubled by Y/N's state. As am I. Rhysand's thought reached out to his brother that was sitting next to you. There was a thread of urgency woven through the mental call. She's pulling away and Feyre feels it deeply. Keep an eye on her please? Help her if you can.

Azriel's presence in Rhysand's mind was immediate and calm. He was steady force amid the silent storm of concern. I'm already on it, Rhys. I’ve sensed it too, he assured. His mental voice as composed as the shadows he commanded. You don't need to worry. I’ve been watching over her not out of obligation, but because... because she matters to me. I’ll make sure she’s safe and supported.

Azriel’s vigilance came not from an order but from a place of quiet solidarity. His attunement to the nuances of emotion and the unspoken had already drawn him to your side. Rhysand’s request merely echoed the actions he’d already undertaken. His actions were born from a blend of duty and a deep, personal concern that Azriel rarely let show. In the face of Feyre's distress and now Rhysand’s request, he became a silent sentinel for you. He needed to ensure that you were not only protected but also truly seen and understood.

Dinner continues around you as you withdrew into yourself. The laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. You're barely aware of Azriel's presence on your other side until you feel him beside you. His chair slightly closer than usual. His voice is soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, as he leans in. "You don't have to be anything you're not, not here," he murmurs only for you to hear. "It’s okay to just be. To just breathe." His words meant to comfort felt like a lifeline in the sea of your tumultuous thoughts. You didn’t look at him for you were worried tears might spill over. But you nodded in acknowledgement letting him know that you heard him.

The evening slowly winds down and as the others linger over drinks and stories Azriel stays by your side. His presence a steady promise of understanding and patience. He doesn't push you to talk nor does he expect smiles. Instead, he offers the silent support you didn't know you needed, becoming a guardian not just of your safety, but of your peace.

Feyre watches this exchange with a glimmer of hope lighting up her worried features. Perhaps with Azriel's help you might find your way back to them. To yourself. Tonight, though, is just a small step in your journey back to yourself.

As everyone departs for the night you linger in the living room feigning interest in tidying up the small mess left behind. Feyre watches you for a moment with that same concern etching her features. But she decided against speaking, sensing your need for space.

Once the house is quiet you decide to step out for a walk under the night sky of Velaris. It had become your favorite routine. A routine that kept you grounded. A quick walk to your favorite spot on the Sidra. The city's soft lights reflect gently on the river casting dancing patterns on the water. It's beautiful yet the sight does little to ease the tightness in your chest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice Azriel's approach until he's almost beside you. His presence is calming and somehow it doesn't startle you. Perhaps because in your heart you know he understands the need for quiet. His own demeanor is often just as reserved.

"Good evening," he says. His voice a low rumble. "Care for some company or would you prefer solitude tonight?"

You consider his offer for a moment. Company might not be so bad even though this was usually just a place for you. But it was Azriel. Someone who respects the silence as much as you do. "Company sounds nice, thank you," you reply with your voice softer than you intended.

Azriel nods falling into step beside you. As you walk his shadows play at your feet. It was a subtle yet comforting gesture. At one point one of his shadows curls around your hand. This small, almost imperceptible touch from his shadows offers a silent, comforting presence that envelops you in a sense of security. Neither of you speaks as you walk along the riverbank. The only sounds was the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant hum of the city. The silence between you is more than comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that words can sometimes be too cumbersome.

After a while though Azriel speaks up. He wasn’t looking at you but staring out at the water. "It's easy to feel lost in this city… even with its lights and crowds. Sometimes it feels like being surrounded by shadows even in the brightest part of the day."

You glance at him, surprised by the reflection of your own feelings in his words. "Yes, it does," you agree. You were feeling a weight lift slightly knowing that someone else understands.

He nods slightly at your words, "The shadows aren't all there is though. There are places, moments like these, that can offer some respite. And not all shadows are bad." He smiles looking down at the ones that clung to your feet.

His words make you look at him anew. You weren’t just seeing the spymaster or the warrior but someone who also seeks to find balance between the light and the dark. It makes you wonder if perhaps in this shared moment you might find a way to navigate your own shadows. They might not all be bad you had to agree with him.

You don't say much more as you walk back to the townhouse, but the silent agreement hangs between you, comforting and promising. Maybe, just maybe, you're not as alone as you thought.

The dawn is still a whisper of light across Velaris as you sit quietly by the Sidra. The gentle murmur of the river a soothing background to your thoughts that never seemed to shut the hell up. Lost in the reflections of the dancing water you hardly notice Azriel’s approach until he’s beside you. His presence as quiet as the morning. It was becoming a routine for him to join you on the river it seemed. Not that you minded. He might be the one person you’d happily accept to intrude on your solitude.

“You’re up early,” he remarks softly not wanting to startle you. His tone as gentle as the river’s flow.

You look up with a soft smile on your face. His familiar, reassuring presence is a comfort. “Just needed some air,” you reply with a yawn. Your voice carrying the weight of another sleepless night.

Azriel nods, understanding. He looks out over the water for a moment sharing the silence with you. Then, turning back to you, he suggests, “Come with me. I think I have something that might help clear your head. Help you to focus a bit.”

You’re hesitant. The idea of doing anything but sitting quietly feels daunting. But there’s something about his offer. The promise of relief, however temporary, that nudges you to your feet.

“It’s just training,” he adds. seeing your uncertainty. “Physical activity can be a good way to let out some of the emotions that are harder to express in words. We’ll take it slow. You set the pace.”

Trusting Azriel’s judgment, knowing he wouldn’t push you into something without reason, you stand and follow him towards the training grounds. The city is quietly waking around you and the walk is silent but comfortable. His presence a steady reassurance by your side. Something you were slowly growing to cherish.

As you reach the secluded training area the first rays of sunlight begin to warm the cool morning air. Azriel gives you a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start simple. No pressure. Just you learning to trust your strength again.”

The training starts at an easy pace. Azriel guiding you through basic maneuvers. His patience was evident. But as your body begins to warm up with the activity and your focus sharpens on the movements. There was that sense of release you never knew could come. It was unfamiliar yet welcome that starts to take hold on you.

As the morning sun climbs higher the training session progresses under Azriel's watchful eye. You find yourself gradually syncing with the rhythm of the physical exertion. Each movement flushing out the restless energy that has been building up inside you. Azriel's guidance is firm yet encouraging and you start to feel a rare sense of accomplishment as you slowly master each new maneuver he throws at you.

But as the session intensifies Azriel begins to push you harder, increasing the pace and complexity of the drills. His softness changed into some else. You knew he was only pushing you to help but it was starting to become a little too much. You’d only been Fae for a year to his centuries. "Come on, Y/N, focus. You can handle this," he urges. Throwing a series of rapid, controlled strikes that you're meant to block and counter.

For a moment you rise to the challenge your movements sharp and sure. Yet the physical strain is relentless. All too soon it starts to mirror the inner struggled you've been trying to manage. The boundaries between physical exertion and emotional pain blur… each block and dodge feeling more like a fight against your inner demons rather than a simple training exercise.

Suddenly, one of Azriel's strikes comes a little too close, a little too fast. It isn't meant to hit you and it doesn't but the rush of air as it passes by your face triggers something within you. Panic seizes your chest and the walls you've been holding up begin to crumble. Your movements falter. Your hands drop to your sides rapidly as your breath catches in your throat.

You step back abruptly with short, ragged breaths. Azriel stops immediately, concern replacing the intensity in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks all too softly this time. He watched with concern as you struggled to compose yourself.

You nod rapidly trying to blink back the tears that want to rush out. “I’m fine. Just tired.” You murmur. It didn’t even sound believable to you. You turned you back to him so he wouldn’t see the distraught look on your face.

He steps forward with a sadness etched deeply on his features. "It's more than just tiredness, isn't it?" he asks gently as he reached out but stopped short, giving you space yet showing his readiness to support.

You shake your head again trying to compose yourself. Willing yourself to rebuild the barriers crumbling around you. "I'm fine, really, just got a little carried away," you offer weakly with your back still turned, fearing that facing him might reveal too much.

But Azriel doesn’t retreat. Instead, his shadows do what he physically refrains from—they reach out for you. You feel a cool, soothing sensation as one shadow gently curls around your arm, not binding but comforting. It was like a silent message of empathy and support. The unexpected kindness, the soft touch of darkness that doesn’t demand or judge, only seeks to comfort. But it undoes you completely.

Your defenses shatter at the tender contact. Tears finally spilling over as you turn back to face him. The floodgates opened by the gentle brush of his shadow. "I'm not fine," you admit, your voice choked with emotion. "It's all just... it's too much sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning in what I had to do. In what Feyre had to endure because of me. All because of me."

Azriel listens with his gaze never wavering. His eyes were filled with compassion and a profound understanding. His shadow retracts slightly giving you a moment, respecting your space while keeping the silent promise of his presence.

He nods his head willing you to continue. "Let it out, Y/N. You don't have to carry this alone," he says quietly finding the courage to step closer now. He opened his arms to you in an offer of comfort that you no longer have the strength to refuse.

As you step into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, the warmth of his body contrasts with the cool touch of his shadows creating a cocoon of safety around you. "I was the one who killed the wolf that started this whole mess," you confess through sobs. Your words muffled against his chest. "Feyre took the blame to protect me... because she thought I couldn't handle the consequences."

“It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice close to your ear. “You were never meant to carry this alone.” He pauses. His hand gently lifting your chin so you can look at him. “Feyre’s path was her own. Fate had a hand in it. She was meant to meet Rhysand through Tamlin. To find her way to the Night Court. It couldn’t have been you, Y/N. Your path is different and it’s still unfolding.”

You shake your head feeling the weight of it all. “But-“

Azriel’s hold tightens reassuringly. His wings stretched around you before he stops you. “She did what she believed was right, out of love. And now you need to allow yourself to be loved and supported, too. Let your family be here for you. Let me be here for you.” he pleads, his tone imbued with a promise. In the safety of Azriel’s wings with the gentle embrace of his shadows, you feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a long time.

Beneath the shelter of his wings Azriel holds you close feeling the profound shift within as your eyes meet. In that moment a golden thread previously unseen but always present tightens, binding your soul to his. The mating bond ignites with a radiant force, undeniable and transformative.

This newfound connection stirs a deep protectiveness in Azriel, an urge to cherish and guard you that feels both ancient and freshly awakened. Love pulses through this bond unspoken yet palpable aligning his heartbeat with yours. He experiences a profound sense of belonging, understanding now that every moment with you, every shared concern, was leading to this revelation.

With the emergence of the bond, Azriel, who often cloaked himself in mystery, finds in you a clarity that illuminates his existence. This bond does not overwhelm; instead, it completes him, brightening his path forward. The world around him expands promising a journey not walked alone but side by side, in step with each breath.

Yet, the magnitude of this discovery brings a mix of elation and a daunting sense of responsibility. You are vulnerable, your soul laid bare before him, and he is cautious not to burden you further. Internally, Azriel grapples with the desire to declare the bond versus the need to provide you with stability and support without the shock of this revelation.

He resolves to keep this monumental discovery to himself for now, focusing on being your steadfast support. His shadows as a subtle extension of his will, curl gently around you both. They offered a protection and comfort without overwhelming you with the truth.

Azriel knows he must seek Rhysand’s counsel to navigate the complexities of this bond with sensitivity and respect for your emotions. As he holds you he silently vows to take this journey at a pace that honors both your readiness and the bond’s potential. Wrapped in his embrace, Azriel stands as your guardian bonded by fate yet guided by a deep respect for the journey your heart needs to undertake.

"You've been strong today," Azriel whispers into your hair as he senses your grip tighten. "Let's head back home. You need rest." His voice is as soothing as the twilight and his offer is tender, without any urgency that might hint at the truth simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The walk back from the training grounds is quiet, filled with a companionable silence that speaks of shared struggles and mutual care. As Azriel guides you to Feyre's studio, where she immerses herself in swathes of color and light, his touch lingers reassuringly on your arm. It's an affirmation of his presence, his support, his unspoken pledge to be there for you, come what may.

You offer him a soft smile. One that acknowledges the solace his presence brings even though you were still oblivious to the tectonic shift in his inner landscape. Azriel returns your smile with a quiet intensity, a vow that when the time comes for the bond to reveal itself to you he'll be there, just as he is now—steadfast, protective, and utterly devoted.

A subtle shift in Azriel’s demeanor as he prepares to leave catches Feyre's sharp eye. There's a fleeting tension, a trace of something potent and profound flickering in the depths of his usually inscrutable eyes. It's a glimpse of vulnerability. An undercurrent of panic that he's quick to disguise but not before Feyre takes note. Something significant has unsettled the shadowsinger and it likely had to do with you.

With a nod that holds more gravity than usual Azriel turns to go. His steps are measured but the urgency in his exit is apparent to anyone who knows him well. Once he steps beyond the view of the townhouse his wings unfurl, a dark silhouette against the Velaris skyline. He takes to the air with a speed driven by the need for counsel. For understanding the newly realized bond weighing on him with a mix of awe and anxiety.

He lands at the House of Wind with an intensity that is uncharacteristic for him. His feet touching down on the stone with a thud. There's no time for hesitation as he makes his way to where he knows he'll find Rhysand, perhaps Cassian too. The door to the study bursts open under his force and he stands there as a figure riddled with the shock of his own heart's awakening.

Inside the study, Rhysand and Cassian pause mid-conversation as the unexpected clamor announces Azriel's approach. Concern flickers over their faces. A stark, thunderous arrival is not Azriel's way.

"Are you alright, Az?" Cassian is the first to react. His voice tinged with concern as he notes Azriel's agitated state.

Azriel pauses before catching his breath. His demeanor one of a man grappling with overwhelming news. "It's the mating bond," he manages to say with his voice tight of emotion. "With Y/N—it just... it just snapped into place."

Rhysand rises from his chair. His expression shifting to one of understanding as he processes Azriel's words. The air in the room thickens with the significance of his declaration and there's a moment of collective stillness as they all absorb the meaning.

Cassian’s previous levity fades into a solemn gravity, reflecting the seriousness of Azriel's revelation. "That’s... big news, Az. How are you feeling about this?" he asks as he stepped closer in caution.

Rhysand, maintaining his composure, offers a supportive nod. "This is a momentous time, Azriel. We’re here for you, whatever you need," he assures him embodying the role of the leader who understands the profound implications of such a bond.

Azriel exhales deeply the reality of the situation settling in. "It's overwhelming," he concedes. A frown creasing his brow. "I mean, I hoped, maybe even wished for it. But now that it’s here, it feels... heavy." He looks up. His expression serious. "She’s still healing. I need to be careful. Need to make sure this doesn’t overwhelm her."

Rhysand gives a supportive nod. "Just keep being there for her, Az. You’ve always managed to support her without pushing. This doesn’t change your approach just your understanding of the connection."

Cassian smirks, pushing off from the table and clapping Azriel on the back with a bit more force than necessary. "Look at you all serious and broody—more than usual, I mean. Come on, Az, you know you're probably the only one who can handle this with the perfect blend of mystery. Besides," he adds with a wry grin, "have you seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking? That’s not just gratitude my friend. It’s like she’s hit the jackpot and she doesn’t even know it yet."

Azriel can’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. "Thanks, Cass. I just don’t want to mess this up."

"Don’t worry so much, brother," Cassian chuckles, his tone light but earnest. "You’re doing fine. Plus, if you start floating around like a lovestruck bat, I’ll be here to pull you back down."

Rhysand laughs softly before shaking his head at the general. "He’s right, though. Take it step by step, Azriel. Let her come to terms with her own feelings. When she’s ready it’ll be right for both of you."

Feeling somewhat lighter Azriel nods appreciatively at his brothers. "Step by step," he repeats, firming his resolve. With a final nod he steps back into the night bolstered by the mix of Cassian’s humor and Rhysand’s leadership. He was ready to face the future with a heart full of hope and a mind cautious of the delicate balance he needs to maintain.

Back in the townhouse Feyre greets you with that mischievous grin that heralds some sisterly teasing. She sets her paintbrush down before wiping her hands on a cloth as her eyes sparkle with playful curiosity. "So, what did you do to him?" she teases with a smirk on her face.

You frown genuinely puzzled by her question. "What? Nothing, I... we were just training, then he said he had to go." Your voice trails off mirroring your confusion over Azriel's sudden change in demeanor.

Feyre chuckles, shaking her head as she picks up her brush again. "That man is always so mysterious. But don't worry it's probably just Azriel things. Or maybe, just maybe, you're the perfect distraction for our dear spymaster."

"What are you on about?" you ask while feeling a mix of amusement and bewilderment at her jest.

"Oh, please!" Feyre laughs, her brush dancing over the canvas. "He looks at you like every moment you spend together is something precious. Like you're a rare painting he can't quite believe he's stumbled upon."

"You're imagining things," you dismiss her. Shaking your head with a smile. "Azriel is just being kind. He's like that with everyone."

Feyre gives you a knowing look. Her smirk broadening. "Sure, he’s kind to everyone, but with you it’s different. He doesn’t look at anyone else quite like he looks at you. Like you’ve cast a spell on him and he’s trying to figure out how to live with the enchantment."

Her words make you pause. The playful insinuation tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Despite your dismissal Feyre’s observation lingers. A teasing possibility that maybe there's a hint of truth in her playful assertions. The room fills with your laughter, a sound that masks the flutter of curiosity her words have sparked.

Unbeknownst to you while you puzzle over Azriel's sudden departure, Feyre's mind is swiftly connecting with Rhysand's. A silent inquiry flits through their bond: Something's up with Azriel, he seemed... off. Did I miss something?

Rhysand's mental response comes with a chuckle that Feyre can almost hear: He’s fine, love. Just had a bit of a revelation. He’ll share when he's ready.

A spark of mischief lights up Feyre’s eyes as understanding dawns on her. Her lips curve into a sly, knowing grin. But she carefully masks any hint of her newfound knowledge from you. "You know, I think we deserve some fun today. Just us twins. You’ve been pushing hard with all that training and brooding," she suggests. Her voice bubbling with an excitement that piques your curiosity.

"Really? What did you have in mind?" you ask. Your earlier confusion over Azriel's behavior giving way to intrigue at Feyre's sudden enthusiasm.

"Oh, just a day for us to unwind and maybe get into a little mischief," Feyre replies, winking. "We can leave the mysteries of shadowy spymasters behind and focus on spoiling ourselves."

You laugh while nodding in agreement, relieved to set aside the morning's puzzles. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As the day unfolds with Feyre leading the way with her occasional secretive smiles and the warmth of her company envelop you, making you feel cherished and a part of something larger than just sisterly bonding. Every now and then she throws you a look filled with unspoken laughter as if she's in on a joke that’s yet to be told adding an intriguing layer to your day out.

"Enjoy today," Feyre says at one point. Her grin infectious. "Because who knows? Tomorrow you might find yourself swept off your feet in ways you never expected." Her words are light, but they dance with implication, leaving you wondering about the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.

As the days unfold since your training session you begin to notice an unusual shift in Azriel's behavior when he's around you. Always the quiet, stoic presence, he now seems to carry an air of nervousness that is both surprising and endearing. It's as if he's forgotten how to be around you. His typically smooth demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that sends a ripple of amusement throughout your days.

During your daily routines, whether you're practicing combat skills or just strolling through the lush gardens of the Night Court, Azriel is consistently by your side. Yet, his typical quiet confidence seems to falter. Today when he hands you a training sword his fingers not only linger but also tremble slightly against yours. The contact is brief but the moment his skin brushes against yours a visible blush creeps up his neck coloring his cheeks in a rare show of discomposure.

"Sorry," he stutters. Quickly retracting his hand as if scorched by the brief contact. He averts his gaze making sure to look anywhere but at you. His discomfort palpable in the tight set of his shoulders.

You can't help but tilt your head eyeing him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Azriel, are you alright?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your lips. Your voice is soft though hoping to ease some of his evident tension. The gardens around you bloom vibrantly. A stark contrast to Azriel’s suddenly flustered state.

He clears his throat attempting to regain some of his usual composure. "Yes, I'm... fine," he manages. His voice a notch higher than usual. He meets your gaze again holding it for a moment longer than he intends. The intensity of his stare both confusing and thrilling.

Just then as if to spite Azriel, Cassian strolls by and upon noticing Azriel's flushed face and your puzzled expression he can't help but let out a snicker. "Lost your cool, Shadowsinger?" he teases, winking at you before continuing on his way with a chuckle. "You’re usually smoother than this, brother!"

Azriel shoots Cassian a brief glare but there's a resigned humor in his eyes that suggests he knows just how out of character he must seem. As Cassian’s laughter fades into the distance Azriel finally turns back to you attempting a sheepish smile.

"It seems I'm a bit out of sorts today," he admits. His voice finally steadying. "Nothing to worry about, really."

Watching Azriel grapple with this uncharacteristic awkwardness only endears him more to you. There’s a sweetness in his struggle. A reminder that beneath the composed façade of the Night Court’s spymaster lies a depth of emotion rarely seen but profoundly felt.

On a tranquil afternoon in the Night Court, you find yourself relaxing in one of the quieter gardens alongside Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. The air is filled with gentle laughter and the soft rustling of leaves. Cassian and Nesta are notably absent, presumably because Cassian has taken it upon himself to "help" Nesta with some errands—a pursuit that everyone knows often ends in playful bickering and affectionate banter.

Elain has also opted for a day out with Lucien exploring new botanical gardens on the outskirts of the city. Her passion for plants and Lucien's support in her endeavors showcases the growing bond between them.

The conversation flows easily until Rhys, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, steers it towards Azriel’s recent scouting mission. "Azriel here stumbled upon something quite intriguing recently, didn’t you?" he teases while watching Azriel closely.

Caught off-guard Azriel’s response is delayed, his eyes widening slightly as if Rhys had tread into forbidden territory. "It was nothing out of the ordinary," he finally mutters. Though his voice holds a trace of unease.

Feyre jumps into the fray. Her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Oh, but I heard it was quite the discovery. Rare and fascinating… something that might deeply engage a man’s interest."

You laugh completely oblivious to the underlying meaning and look at Azriel with raised eyebrows. "What was it, Az? Some kind of hidden gem or a lost artifact?"

There’s a brief moment where Azriel’s composure falters under your direct gaze, his eyes meeting yours before quickly glancing away. He recovers quickly, however, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Yes, something like that," he agrees, his voice steadying. "A discovery that could indeed change one’s perspective for a lifetime."

Rhys doesn't miss a beat adding with a light chuckle, "Let’s hope it’s not kept secret too long. Such treasures are better when shared, right?"

Feyre nods enthusiastically. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Especially when they bring people closer together, right, Az?"

Azriel meets Feyre’s gaze. His expression settling into a subtle smile that hints at his deep thoughts. “Indeed,” he replies quietly, the single word rich with unspoken meaning, affirming the sentiment with his usual succinct eloquence.

As the conversation moves on the jokes and laughter continue, your heart warmed by the newfound perspective you found with them. Azriel watches you with a gentle, albeit slightly wistful smile. He noticed how much more you're around, how your laughter fills the air more often, and how your vibrant personality begins to shine through once more. His heart fills with a mixture of relief and deep affection, seeing the signs of your healing. In these moments he cherishes the progress you've made feeling hopeful about the future. He was ready to support you every step of the way as the true nature of his discovery waits to be shared with you.

As the weeks blend into months, the connection between you and Azriel deepens. It was nurtured by shared moments and his unwavering support. On a crisp evening as the sun begins its descent painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, Azriel brings you to a secluded hilltop that overlooks Velaris. This spot was known only to him and offers a panoramic view of the city as it starts to twinkle with the first lights of evening, the natural grassy surface underfoot soft and inviting.

Standing close by his presence was both comforting and solid, Azriel shares a story, his voice low and warm, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a spymaster. The tale is endearing, revealing a less guarded side of him and laughter bubbles up freely from your throat.

As your laughter transitions into a soft chuckle, you turn to face him. The last rays of the sunset bathe Azriel in a warm, golden light that illuminates his features, casting a glow that outlines him like an ethereal halo. His eyes that were filled with affection and a hint of amusement, meet yours. In that instant something profound shifts within you.

It feels as if a key has turned, unlocking something wondrous and overwhelming. The mating bond, which has been delicately weaving its way through each of your interactions, now clicks into place with perfect clarity. The sensation is electrifying yet profoundly comforting. Resonating through your very being.

Your breath catches and your heart races—not just from the shock of the realization but from the undeniable rightness that surges through you. Azriel, noticing the subtle transformation in your expression halts his story. A flicker of concern crossing his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks with his voice tinged with worry. The humor from his story now replaced by attentive care.

A mix of joy and amazement washes over you as you feel a comforting swirl of his shadows around your feet. Like curious creatures affirming this new connection. "Azriel, I think... I think the mating bond just…," you trailed off unsure how to continue. Your voice was filled with awe. The realization brings a new depth to your smile as you meet his gaze which is now shimmering with a mixture of relief and happiness.

"That's what I've been feeling," Azriel breathes out, a tender smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. He reaches out gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I've been waiting, hoping you would feel it too when the time was right."

Taking his hand, you feel a warmth that goes beyond physical touch. A connection that seeps into the depths of your soul. "I’m glad it’s you," you say quietly, sincerely, the words flowing easily.

Azriel’s other hand comes up to gently cup your cheek. His touch feather light. "And I’m honored it’s you," he responds. His gaze locked with yours. The world around you—the city lights, the soft whisper of the evening breeze—fades into a gentle backdrop to the profound connection you share.

In this moment with Azriel’s shadows dancing around, playful, and protective, you feel a sense of completeness. A promise of endless possibilities. Together, bonded not just by fate but by a mutual understanding you know that whatever the future holds you'll get to navigate it side by side.

As the realization of the mating bond settles between you, Azriel's shadows seem to take on a life of their own. They swirled around you both with a newfound enthusiasm. The delicate tendrils of darkness weave around your legs and occasionally brush against your hands as if testing and reinforcing the connection that has just been acknowledged.

Azriel watches with a tender amusement as his shadows interact with you, their movements more animated than usual. "They seem to have taken quite a liking to you," he comments. His voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "They're not usually this... attentive."

As the shadows continue their gentle dance around you, one particularly daring tendril snakes up your arm, its touch lighter than a feather. You can't help but laugh. The sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. With a delighted grin you reach out to trace the path of the shadow with your fingertips, marveling at the cool, tingling sensation it leaves on your skin.

Azriel continues watching with an affectionate roll of his eyes accompanying his half-smirk. "You're going to spoil them," he teases. His tone light but full of warmth.

Encouraged by your positive reaction another shadow playfully darts forward and mimics the motion of a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle with joy, your hand touching the spot in mock surprise and then you're both laughing. A shared moment of joy and wonder at the peculiar yet endearing behavior of the shadows.

Azriel shakes his head, but his eyes shine with amusement. "Now you've done it. They're going to expect this king of attention all the time," he jokes as the shadows around him swirled in what you swear could be shadowy laughter.

"You know, I think I'm okay with that," you respond still smiling as you watch the shadows retreat slightly, as if bashful from the attention. "They're quite charming. Just like someone else I know." You glance up at Azriel with a playful smirk. Enjoying the light flush that colors his cheeks at the compliment.

The shadows, seemingly pleased with their role in this light-hearted exchange, settle more calmly around you both like a contented sigh after a bout of laughter. The protective circle they form feels like a gentle embrace not just from Azriel but from all parts of him.

As the laughter fades Azriel's expression turns tender, his gaze softening as he searches your face looking for any sign of unease. "But seriously," he says with his voice low and earnest, "are you really okay?" His concern is palpable. The bond between you making every emotion, every nuance of feeling that much more intense and meaningful.

You meet his gaze feeling a surge of warmth from his sincere concern. Smiling gently, you nod, the tranquility of the moment filling you with a profound sense of peace. "I really am okay. For the first time in a long time," you admit. Your voice steady and sure. The confession feels like a significant acknowledgment of the journey you've been on and the role Azriel, and his shadows, have played in it.

Azriel's smile in response is radiant. A look of relief and happiness that brightens his entire demeanor. "That's all I’ve ever wanted to hear," he murmurs. His voice soft with emotion. He stands closer, his hand gently squeezing yours. "Come on, love," he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's fly home."

With a graceful motion Azriel unfurls his expansive wings, the dark feathers shimmering under the starlight. The sight never fails to take your breath away. He wraps an arm securely around your waist, his touch reassuring. "Ready?" he asks. His voice a low rumble filled with excitement and anticipation.

With a nod you cling to him, feeling the rush of air as he leaps into the sky. Velaris unfolds below you. It was a gorgeous tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind was cool and exhilarating against your face. Flying with Azriel, held close against his chest, the city sprawling beneath you is an experience that feels as if it straddles the line between dream and reality.

The flight is swift and smooth. The quiet only broken by the rushing wind and the steady beat of Azriel's powerful wings. The world seems to shrink away, leaving only the two of you soaring through the night sky. As the House of Wind comes into view Azriel’s descent is gentle, a reminder of his skill and care for you.

You land softly on the balcony, the cool night breeze playing around you, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. Just as you touch down the laughter and lively banter of the Inner Circle reach your ears from inside.

As you and Azriel step through the grand doors of the House of Wind the lively atmosphere of the Inner Circle greets you. Cassian's booming voice fills the foyer as he spots you descending from the balcony. "Finally decided to join us, huh? Or were you two plotting to take over Velaris with your love-struck scheming?" he teases, winking not so conspicuously.

Rhysand joins in with a sly grin. His eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think they were busy weaving shadows and starlight. Look how they landed, like a pair of night-blooming flowers." His voice was laden with humor and draws a round of chuckles from around the room.

Feyre, Nesta, and Elain watch from the side, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and affection. Feyre's eyes meet yours and she gives you an approving nod. Her smile suggesting she understands more than she lets on. Nesta’s smirk is more enigmatic but supportive while Elain’s gentle gaze is filled with romantic delight at the scene unfolding before her.

Amid the teasing Azriel keeps you close, his arm remaining protectively around your waist. The warmth of his embrace reassures you. His presence a calming force against the good-natured ribbing. "Ignore them," he murmurs softly against your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. His voice is rich with affection and a hint of playfulness that only you are privy to.

"You make it sound so easy," you whisper back, unable to suppress a smile feeling buoyed by the love filling the room.

As the evening progresses the light banter continues, with everyone occasionally casting teasing glances your way, making playful comments about the inseparable duo you and Azriel have become. Despite the jests there’s an underlying current of genuine happiness for you both. A celebration of the deepening bond that everyone seems to recognize and respect.

The night unfolds with shared stories, laughter, and an occasional clinking of glasses in toasts, not just to the night but to new beginnings and magical connections. As you stand by Azriel’s side, surrounded by friends who are more like family. You feel a profound sense of belonging and happiness. Here in the heart of the Night Court, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the soft glow of the city, you are home—not just in place, but in heart, bound by love, laughter, and the eternal dance of shadows and light.

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Overwhelmed

Fem!sensitive!reader v soft!dom!eddie

Overview: hyper sensitivity can be awful. But you begun to find out it's a blessing in disguise with Eddie Munson touching you.

AN: This was a drabble which turned into a long one, whoops! No use of Y/N, pure indulgence on my part due to my neuro divergent ass.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, smutty mc smutt smutt, NSFW (minors I will chase you with a broom) bit angsty, bit fluffy, female oral receiving, lap riding, also I'm english so bear with me and the American-isms!

7k words

Part 2 here Masterlist

Ever since you were a kid you were sensitive. Loud noises got to you. Not necessarily single noises. It was usually the painful overlay of sounds, mixing and mingling, overwhelming you until you couldn't think. Emotions could be problematic. It seemed that everything affected you more than others. Dizzying highs and earth shattering lows. If someone gave you negative feedback it wore down on you for far longer than it should. The pain was palpable, you could almost taste it.

Touch sensitivity affected you the most. It got to you on a daily basis. No one normal really picks up on how much other people touch you. It's constant; an arm brushing against yours in passing, fingers skimming against your own handing over coins or a pen, a hand at the small of your back when inching past you. Every touch from someone you didn't know or didn't like made your skin crawl. Even wearing a slightly itchy jumper could be hell.

It was even worse with someone you liked. An accidental swipe of a hand, a knee resting against yours, it could send lightning bolts up your spine. It was something you've always had to deal with, and managed to control quite well, until you became friends with Eddie Munson.

You befriended the little band of outcasts mostly out of convenience. Safety in numbers. One day a seat was free on their table in the cafeteria and you asked if you could sit there. The teenage boys gawked at you in silence, all except Eddie. He had stood up and flashed a debonair smile at you, bowing and offering you the seat. You took it gratefully, mumbled a thank you, and proceeded to eat your lunch with your head in your book.

Each day it seemed the same seat was free, next to Eddie. Each day you sat, and each day you opened up more and more to the lovable weirdos surrounding you. Little by little you had been indoctrinated into their gang and it pleased you more than you were prepared to admit. It escalated from just lunch, to being a key member of their D&D party, Hellfire, since they were in sore need of a cleric. You were slowly shedding your rough exterior, the walls you placed around yourself for protection. Not completely though, not yet. You never shared how you felt, how things got to you sometimes. How sensitive you were.

That only got more difficult when you realised just how much you liked Eddie. Suddenly that flash of a smile would make you weak at the knees. You'd see him running his hand through his hair, palm coming to rest on the back of his neck, and you could barely breathe. It's like your attraction to him sucked the air out of your lungs. That shoulder length messy hair, the slim but powerful build, that damn smile. It was all too much. The biggest problem of all though? Eddie was a toucher.

You were sure he didn't even realise, but it was continuous. It was like a compunction. It was innocent enough, but it affected you so much. Every time he grabbed you by the arm it made you shiver. If he slung his arm around your shoulder you were practically quivering. Worst of all was the hugs. He would pull you in for a crushing bear hug and it was like your legs turned to jelly.

Last night at the weekly Hellfire meeting it happened again. You were all celebrating your victory after a particularly drawn out battle. You usually held back a bit being the party's only healer but this time you'd had to step up and had managed to land the final blow. The boys had shouted and jumped up, celebrating the victory with vigor. Eddie had beamed at you and reached out, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Atta girl" he grinned at you. And what did you do? You fucking whimpered. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you froze, staring at his deep brown eyes. Eddie stared back, brow furrowed but smiling, like he was trying to figure something out. As soon as the moment happened, it was gone. He moved his hand and you had stared down into your lap, trying to will the blood from your face. It appeared no one else had noticed, too busy making noise to see what had occurred. Eddie had tried to touch your arm again at the end of the session but you had grabbed your bag and high tailed it out of there, much to the confusion of the rest of the party.

Today you were heading into the cafeteria, nearly dreading it. Why had he stroked your face? What the hell was that about? Was that just Eddie being Eddie? He was always so touchy feely. You tried to shrug it off, took a deep breath and headed to your usual seat.

Eddie beamed at your approach. You flashed a tight lipped smile back and perched on the bench, eyes darting around the rest of the group. Dustin was mid sentence, clearly berating Mike about some video game.

"Seriously, you take the enchanted sword and then move through the forest, defeat the goblins and you're practically at the tower. It's not hard, a five year old could do it!" He gestures emphatically. Mike shakes his head.

You pipe up "Dustin, seriously. Tone."

"What, what did I say?" He shrugs at you.

"Not what you said it's the way you said it." Mike adds.

"I know what tone means moron!"

You ignore the rest of the argument and look over to Eddie. He's not paying the slightest bit of attention to the pair. His eyes are trained solely on you. He doesnt shy away when you catch him staring, if anything it seems to spur him on. Theres a glint in his eye that you aren't used to seeing. You cough and look away.

At the end of the lunch period you move to get up and go to class, but Eddie's hand on your wrist stops you. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your pulse point sends waves throughout your body. You drag your eyes to meet his.

"Everything OK? You seem a bit, off." His words seem genuine, but theres that grin again. You feel like he knows, he must do, and every move is to torture you.

"Um... I'm okay Eddie, it's just all a bit, much." You struggle out, trying to ignore the way his fingers lingered on your wrist.

He finally gets go, frowning.

"I just wanted to check, thought you were mad at me yesterday or something."

"No no no, opposite of mad! I just get, er overwhelmed is all." You babble at him.

"Oh okay, still not sure I get it but glad you're not mad at me." He stops and looks down, avoiding your eyes for a moment. "You wanna join me and Jeff and Gareth on Friday? We're gonna pile round Jeffs, watch a movie?" He looks up at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, those big brown eyes impossible to say no to.

"...sure Eddie." At that he beams at you and strokes your arm. Your breath hitches, you don't know if he notices.

"Cool, we're meeting at 8. See you sweetheart." And he leaves. You stand there dazed for a second. Sweetheart. That was new. Maybe Eddie does like you. Smiling, you head to your next lesson.

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

When Friday rolls around you're a trembling ball of nerves. What if you had misread? What if he was just being nice?

You dress casually; a pair of black jeans, a black tank top and sneakers. Not anything special, but the top was lower cut than the usual plain coloured t shirts you wore at school. You threw on a red flannel shirt leaving it unbuttoned, just in case it was chilly at Jeff's house, and walked your way over there since it was only a couple of blocks away. You had come prepared with snacks. What teenage boy doesn't love food? You had an enormous bag of popcorn and a Tupperware full of homemade cookies. The cookies were probably a bit much but you had made them simply for something to do with all your nervous energy and it seemed a shame to waste them.

Walking up Jeff's driveway you check the time. 20:08. Not too late, you didn't want to be rude, but you didn't want to be the first there. Ringing the bell, you heard footsteps running to the door. Jeff answers, swinging the door wide, and waves at you to come in.

"Stairs just to the left, everyone's in the basement." He shouts over his shoulder, turning to the kitchen to get drinks. You make your way downstairs. It's slightly dark, but cozy. Theres a very old green loveseat with a coffee table in front of it, strewn with snacks, beer bottles and an ashtray. In front of that is a fairly new TV and VCR. Gareth is taking over half of the couch. To one side of the room there's a huge purple beanbag. Eddie is lounging in it.

"Hey sweetheart." He grins and waves a hand at you. Gareth greets you and you move to put your snacks on the table.

"Hey, cookies, you can come again!" You hear Jeff behind you. You giggle at that. He passes you a beer.

"No worries I had some time to kill you know." Before you can sit on the sofa Jeff collapses onto it ungracefully, handing beers to Gareth and Eddie.

Faltering for a second, you look around the room for another chair.

"Plenty of room on this if you dont mind sharing? I don't bite!" Eddie looks at you, grinning. Shit.

"Not worried about your mouth, I'm worried about your hands." You quip at him. Jeff and Gareth laugh, and Jeff starts putting the movie in the VCR, some slasher flick you hadn't seen.

"Hey, young lady, I'm a perfect gentlemen." Eddie puts his hands in the air as if surrendering, and winks at you.

No use arguing the point. As you are making your way over, he shuffles up. You sit down carefully, but it doesnt seem to matter how you sit, you roll right into Eddie. You were pushed right up against him, your side flush with his. He lowers his arms and drapes one over your shoulder. You sit, legs squeezed together, picking at the label on your beer bottle, trying hard not to think about Eddie's warmth seeping into you. Why was he so warm?

The cookies were a hit, as was the popcorn. About halfway through the movie Jeff gets up to get everyone another beer. You take that as an opportunity to take your shirt off. Eddie was like a furnace and you needed some sort of relief. Sitting back down you nearly sit on top of him, the back of your shoulder flush to his chest.

"Sorry Eddie I'll move-"

"No problem princess this is comfier." And he rests his chin on the bare skin on your shoulder. The arm that was around you now falls to your waist. The feeling was intense. You could feel his heart beating, or at least you thought you could. Maybe it was just your own. The heat emanating from him and the touch of his skin on yours was dizzying. You try and keep your breathing steady.

Jeff returns and hands out the beers and you take yours gratefully, it's something to distract you from the feeling building up between your thighs.

Eddie sips his beer and settles his chin back on your shoulder, watching the movie. You're paying no attention, it was difficult to think when you were surrounded by Eddie.

"Sorry sweetheart can I just-" Eddie says, startling you out of your revelry. He reaches up and strokes your neck, moving some stray hairs of yours that were sticking to your neck and were presumably in his face. The touch is so delicate but it thrums through you. It feels like he's played a chord on your neck and your body has amplified the feeling, sending a shiver all over your skin.

His hand drops back down to your waist and his fingers find a sliver of bare skin between your jeans and your top. Just the feel of his rough fingertips on your exposed skin, after he had given you goosebumps so easily pushed you over the edge. Before you could stop it, a breathy moan escaped your throat. It wasn't particularly loud, but it didnt need to be. It didn't look like Jeff or Gareth heard, but there was no way Eddie didn't. He turned his head towards you so you could feel his breath on your neck which was definitely not helping.

You didn't need to look at him to know he heard. You could practically hear the smirk on his face when he whispered "sorry sweetheart, am I overwhelming you?" Fuckfuckfuck. You could hear your own heart beating profusely. Squeezing your thighs together, you manage to respond.

"No-no, I'm okay," an octave higher than you meant to.

"If it's an issue sweetheart I can sit on the floor-"

"No!" Too loud. Far too loud. Where did that come from? Jeff and Gareth glance over at the sudden noise.

Eddie's grin widens. "Just making sure you're comfy." Jeff and Gareth turn their attention back to the movie, having a discussion about where they recognise the leading actress from.

You sit still, trying not to breathe too loud, alternating between sipping your beer and picking off the label. Eddie moves his head from your shoulder much to your relief, but his hand stays at your waist, gently caressing the exposed skin.

After the movie you hang around for a bit chatting, then make your excuses to get up and leave.

"Hey, wait sweetheart, need a ride?" Eddie stands up.

"I live like two blocks away, it's fine." You turn to the door and start walking upstairs with Eddie at your heels.

"Then I can walk you back. No big deal."

"I'm fine, seriously. I'm a big girl. Tie my own shoes and everything." You smile at him.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" He blurts out suddenly.

You blink at him, surprised. "Er, maybe?"

"Look, I'll pick you up, 7 o clock, we can come to mine, chill out, maybe watch a movie?"

"Sure Eddie that sounds nice."

He moves towards you, arms outstretched for a hug. Complying, you soften at his touch. It's gentle, much gentler than the bone crunching hugs you are used to from him. One hand strokes your back softly. Before you pull away, Eddie's breath is in your ear.

"Maybe if you're up for it, I can try and get you to make that noise again." He whispers smugly.

You pull away, mouth gaping whilst he stares at you, smirk on his lip, head tilted at you.

"I... erm, maybe" you stutter out and head out of the house before you make more of a fool of yourself.

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

Saturday evening finally crawled around. You were excited but were trying to push down the feeling. You didn't want to come across too eager, it was a problem that happened all too often with you.

A bundle of clothes in various states were spread out before you; you were trying to pick something to wear. You decided on a pleated skirt, not too short, and a crop top. Checking yourself out in the mirror you thought you looked hot, but then again, maybe it was too needy? You shrugged your flannel shirt on to try and calm it down a bit, doing up a couple of buttons. Slinging on your sneakers you looked at the time. 18:46.

Downstairs you lay on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, waiting for a knock at the door. The house was quiet, your parents had gone out a while ago for a weekend away. Trying to calm yourself, you make a mental list of all the objects in the living room. Its helps to centre you, until theres a loud knock at the door.

Opening it you see Eddie's huge grin. He's wearing his usual attire; Hellfire t shirt, jeans and leather jacket.

"Jesus Christ you look hot" Eddie says before he can stop himself.

"Thank you" you blush.

"Parents around?"

"No they're away all weekend." You say, grabbing a jacket and locking the door behind you.

"Thank fuck let's go." You giggle as he grabs your hand and you let him lead you to his van.

Eddie starts to drive as Dio blares through the speaker, and you surprise Eddie by nodding along.

"Oh, you like this stuff sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I mean nothing too heavy, but this is great." You grin.

Eddie returns the smile out the side of his mouth. Soon enough he's turning into the entrance to the trailer park he calls home.

Getting out of the van he runs around to the passenger side and opens the door for you with a low bow. You blush and take his hand as he leads you to the door.

"Now, don't get your hopes up, I know it's pretty impressive from the outside but..." he opens the door and let's you go in first.

You take in the surroundings. It's a bit cramped, but homely. There's a sofa and tv, and a small kitchen area. Hats adorn the wall, you assume his uncles. It seems relatively clean, just cluttered. There's something about it that feels welcoming. You sigh, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Eddie seems pleased that you haven't run a mile after seeing the place.

"Wheres your room?" You look up at him.

"Steady on sweetheart you just got here" he winks at you.

You hit him playfully on the chest "shut up Eddie."

He gestures to you to take a seat on the couch and you take it gratefully.

"So, what do you want to watch? I rented a few, wasn't sure what you were into."

He gestured to the small pile of videos on the side table. Glancing over the selection you pick out a movie and hand it to Eddie.

"Nightmare on Elm Street? Didn't peg you for a slasher flick girl." He put the film in the VCR.

"Yeah well I've not actually seen it yet." You admit.

"Really? Well buckle up buttercup! You wanna beer? Or a smoke?"

"Is your uncle-"

"-at work. Dont worry." He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Your breath hitched in your throat. 'Lemme grab my tin."

He returns, battered lunch box in hand, and sits on the floor to roll whilst you start watching the film. It's amazing how comfortable you feel around him. Usually you were on edge being at someone else's house, but Eddie made you feel like you belonged there. You kicked off your shoes and curled your feet up on the sofa.

Eddie joins you. Lighting the joint he takes a couple of tokes then hands it to you. You pass it back and forth for a bit until you start to feel an effect. Giving the last of the joint back to him you say "finish it, that's more than enough for me." You smile at him lazily, head feeling slightly foggy.

"Oh, have I got you stoned sweetheart?" He looks at you, eyes full of mischief.

"Maybe, like this much" you say, holding your thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

"Hmm" he says frowning "not buying it. You want a soda, or some water?" You shake your head. He gets up anyway and gets you a glass of water. Taking it you appease him by drinking a few sips. He flops down again and puts his arm around you.

Settling into watching the movie you start to enjoy it, your high mellowing you a little. It's ridiculous but fun, and some of the special effects impress you. The boy on the screen is attacked unexpectedly and it makes you flinch bodily. Eddie sees this and pulls you closer to him, his hand stroking the top of your arm. Eddie starts explaining how they did the blood on the ceiling effect, waving his hand for emphasis. When he stops his hand comes to rest on your knee. You can't help it, you twitch at the feeling, it's like lightning up your leg.

"You okay sweetheart?" Eddie's face is frowning down at you.

"Yeah sure it's nothing."

Eddie's not buying it. He pauses the movie and looks at you.

"Something's going on princess. And it's either good or bad. Or both, I can't tell. Can you let me know? Did I do something wrong?" Eddie looks at you with those puppy dog eyes of his and its almost heartbreaking.

"No Eddie, you're perfect. I like you. It's just... I'm really, um, sensitive. Loud noises and stuff get to me, emotion wise I kinda run hot. Things affect me like, a lot. And I'm really, really touch sensitive." You see some understanding dawn on his face.

"Ah, right, okay, so is that good sensitive, or bad sensitive?"

"It depends. I mean if it's someone gross it feels horrible brushing past them. If it's someone I like, and I'm in a good mood, it's, well it's, hmm... overwhelming." You know he knows what you're trying to say, you dont want to have to say it out loud.

Eddie smirks at you, eyes like the devil himself.

"So, if I do this..." he says, fingertips tracing circles on your knee. Your breath catches in your throat. "It's nice." You manage.

"Hmm" his hand moves higher, onto the inside of your thigh, just under the hem on your skirt, with feather light touches. "And this?" Dark eyes stare down at you. A small moan escapes your lips. "Jesus Eddie..."

Eddie let's out a dark chuckle. He moves his hand off of your leg and you find yourself almost trying to follow the contact. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, guiding your head to turn and face him.

"What about this?" He says, eyes darting to your lips and back again, looking for confirmation. You close the gap and press your lips against his.

You've kissed before, messy, sloppy things, but never like this. His kiss is fire, igniting through you. The press of his lips against yours firm and warm. His tongue tentatively reaches out and you submit to him, allowing him to explore your mouth. You reply in kind, using your tongue to swipe against his, moving your hand to weave into his hair. He snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He draws a deep moan from your mouth, the pure pleasure of the moment taking over you. You can feel his mouth turn at the corners, smiling into you.

He breaks the kiss first, panting slightly. "Was that okay?" He says, hand remaining on your jaw, thumb gently swiping your chin.

You want to say something sarcastic, or flirty, or, well anything. All that comes from your mouth is a half broken whine. Face flushed pink and breath well and truly taken.

"That bad huh?" He chuckles and drops his hand.

"Wow- I mean, Jesus- it's not usually that, er-, intense. Fuck." You continue to try and catch your breath.

"Gonna take that as a sign that maybe you like me, as much as I like you?" Its not a question, but the head tilt and the look from him make it one.

"Maybe. I mean, I've liked you for a while Eddie."

"I've liked you since you sat with us at lunch." He says to you, eyes sparkling, looking a little sheepish. "Why do you think I saved you a seat every day?"

"Seriously? Why didn't you say anything?" You take his hand in yours, fiddling with his rings.

"You seemed like, really shy. Didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You smile at him softly. "Not shy, just... sensitive. I've had a lot of shit in the past from people, saying that I come across too keen, so I kinda dial it back. Plus I don't exactly want to invite people touching me, you know."

"Except me?" He says smugly.

"Except you." You nod.

He entwines his fingers with yours, looking down for a moment. "You shouldn't care what people think you know." He looks back at you "don't make yourself less for anyone."

Your eyes well up instantly at that. Wiping a stray tear from your eye you respond, "sorry, no ones ever said that before." You smile weakly.

He presses a soft peck to your lips. "Wanna finish the movie?"

"Okay"

Eddie presses play and this time you lean into his arms, pulling his arm around your shoulders and holding his hand. You hear a soft chuckle from him. His other hand comes to rest on your knee, tracing absent minded circles. You bask in the feeling of his warm body pressed against you for a moment.

After a few minutes it's just too much.

"Jesus Eddie why are you so warm?"

"I don't know, you must bring it out in me princess."

You giggle and lean forward, taking off your shirt, and snuggle back next to him. Eddie's eyes are no longer on the movie. He's looking at you and your exposed midriff. His hand tentatively moves from your knee to your stomach. Before he touches you he whispers "this okay?"

You turn your head to him to say yes, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and keep watching the movie.

Eddie's fingers find your flesh, stroking so softly it sends shivers over you. You feel your skin break out in goosebumps. His fingertips dance over you with such care. He flattens his hand and strokes it across your abdomen, the tip of his thumb just brushing the underside of your breast and you inhale suddenly whilst squeezing your thighs together. He lightly scratches across your stomach with his fingernails and you let out a quiet, low moan.

"Eddie-" you turn and realise he's been watching you the whole time.

"What? This is so much more interesting than watching Krueger, trust me."

"Eddie I didn't tell you so you can take advantage!" You say, but theres no malice in it. You smile at him.

Eddie, ever the dramatic, wobbles his head at you and mimics your voice, "Oh Eddie, I'm like, really sensitive, and the smallest touch turns me on but don't do anything about it!"

"I don't sound like that!" You laugh loudly at him, your frame shaking. "And that's not what I said!"

"That's what I heard sweetheart. What do you want me to do? Sit on my hands??" He wiggles his fingers at you and with exaggerated movements forcefully sits on his own hands, frowning and flicking his head the opposite way.

"Eddie?" You touch his shoulder. If anything he turns his head even further away. You can't help but giggle.

"Eddie..." you say in a sing song voice. Nothing.

"Eddie!" Still nothing. You get up as if to leave, but turn to him and straddle his lap. His head is still turned so you take the opportunity to kiss at his neck, trailing kisses and small nibbles.

"Now that's just unfair sweetheart."

"No" you say, still peppering him with kisses "this is unfair" and you mouth the spot where his neck meets his shoulder and suck, hard.

"Holy shit." Eddie wriggles but realises hes trapped himself, his hands stuck under both his weight and yours.

You release his neck with a wet pop and sit back on his lap with a smug smile. Something hard is digging into you, you wiggle slightly and...

Oh.

"Had enough revenge?" Eddie tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows. You shift your weight so he can free his hands, momentarily lost for words. He reaches out to move some stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear.

"C'mere." He puts his hand to the back of your head and guides you towards him, mouth finding yours.

God, you could become addicted to this feeling. His mouth on yours, hands caressing your waist and hips, his warmth between your legs. You feel a pulse deep inside you, spreading in your core. You roll your hips, grinding your heat down on his jean covered member, drawing a deep groan from both of you.

You plant one hand firmly on the back of the couch, the other in his hair, and deepen the kiss. Every touch feels electric. His palms pressing into your hips leave tingles in their wake. You grind against him again, feeling yourself getting wetter, moaning into his mouth, the feeling building until you know you need to stop. That was embarrassingly fast. You break the kiss and look at him, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Sorry, I have to stop or I'll..." you blush crimson and look away.

"Or you'll what?" He says until his eyes widen. "Oh, were you gonna come?" The last word a whisper. You nod your head.

"Fuck that's so hot. Please don't stop." His hands move to stroke your thighs, bucking his hips into you. You let out a broken moan. Eddie's hands reach under your skirt and grab you by the ass. You lean forward and kiss him again, with urgency this time, tongues clashing. You grind against him, trembling with pleasure. Breaking the kiss you throw your head back, eyes closed, mouth parted.

"Eddie, fuck, oh God yes Eddie!"

You release; the hot, incredible feeling spreads throughout your limbs. Grinding against Eddie you try to keep the high going as long as possible.

Finally coming to a stop, you look down at his face. You want to feel embarrassed but he nearly looks as fucked as you feel, red in the face, hair clinging to his sweaty brow, eyebrows knitted together, mouth slightly open. Chuckling and smiling shyly at him, you move some hair from his face, mirroring what he did to you earlier.

"You okay sweetheart?" He looks at you, stroking your thighs.

"Yeah you could say that" you laugh "how about you?"

"Me? I nearly came in my pants, Jesus Christ!"

You giggle and hide your face in your hands. "Sorry." You say again as if on instinct.

"Hey" he grabs your wrists, "pretty girl, look at me." You reluctantly turn your head back to face him.

"This might be the best day of my life, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop apologising." You giggle but Eddie looks at you with a serious face.

"Okay Eddie, I'll stop apologising." You climb off his lap and flop next to him on the couch. When you look over you cannot help but see an unmistakable wet patch on his jeans.

You look at it and your eyes flick back to his face. Staring at him he raises his eyebrows at you.

"No. More. Apologising. That's fucking hot." He states, gesturing to his crotch.

"We missed the movie" you say lately, pouting at him.

"Well, I think I've just found my favourite thing to do, and it's a hell of a lot better than watching a movie" Eddie says waggling his eyebrows at you. Sniggering, you bat your eyelashes.

"So, you ready to show me your room?"

"Well, how can I resist when you pull that face?"

He gets up off the couch and walks to the back of the trailer, opening the far door.

"Well, you coming sweetheart?" He gestures at you to follow.

Stepping into his room, you don't know what to expect. It's a mess, not exactly dirty but theres stuff everywhere. Posters adorn every available wall space. Tapes flow over the small desk to one side. Theres note paper and clothes on the floor, and an overflowing ashtray on the bedside table.

"Yeah, wasn't expecting you to come in here, maid's day off and all." He grabs the ashtray and a couple of empty bottles and jogs out the room to dispose of them. Returning with a clean ashtray, he places it on the bedside table and comes behind you, holding you at the waist. His lips press on your neck, sweeping open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your shoulder and back again, hands pressing firmly into your hips as if he thought you might slip away.

Leaning back you bask in the feeling, tipping your head back and smiling.

"Stay" he whispers, almost too quietly; so quiet you're not sure you heard.

"What?"

"Stay." A little louder this time, still peppering you with kisses.

"You mean stay the night?" You question, turning your head to face him, butterflies exploding in your belly. Fingertips ghost your sides, tracing your figure.

"The night." Still kissing your neck, he continues, "the weekend," trailing kisses down your back, meeting the exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake, getting down on his knees to kiss the small of your back, "forever."

Turning to face him he looks up at you, huge brown eyes boring into your soul. Giggling and mussing his hair with your hand you stare back, the question burning in your mind.

Eddie knows. Eddie always knows.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?" He smiles into your skin, nipping and kissing where your skirt meets your stomach.

"Not much when you keep doing that, Jesus."

"Sorry," he grins, smug smile spreading across his face, "it's hard to stop myself."

"It's just... is this real? I mean, you said you like me, but do you... I mean, is this..." you wring your hands, trying to make the words surface in your head.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Eddie grasps your hands; you have no choice but to turn your head down to face him.

"When I said this might be the best day of my life, I fuckin' meant it. You're literally the girl of my dreams. I've been dreaming of you, actually." He presses his mouth to you again, running his fingers along the waistband of your skirt. You sigh in response, legs shaking slightly.

"Jesus Eddie-"

"Not Jesus, just me." He chuckles, hands drifting to your legs, stroking your thighs.

"Fuck Eddie wait..."

"Sorry, you just, you do things to me." He smiles up at you.

"Are we, are we a thing now?"

"What like a couple? Sure, I'm not letting you go anywhere."

Your tummy does a backflip, hoping, longing.

"Well maybe I can stay. I just, I want you to be sure, you know. And I've never, done much with boys. In case you think I'm not... any good."

Eddie gasps at that, his eyes soften. "Oh sweetheart, theres no universe out there where you could possibly not be any good, in any way. You're amazing."

"So, you gonna get up off the floor, or..." you giggle.

"I'm pretty happy here, unless you don't want me to." He flips your skirt up and sees just how wet your panties are. A low groan escapes his throat. You shut your eyes for a second, trying to gather yourself.

"Eddie, I'm trying to say..."

"Yes, I know baby I know. Seriously, if you want me to stop, tell me. I'll stop. You can still stay. We can just go to sleep. Or cuddle." His eyes meet yours, brow furrowed.

You back up a little and you see the disappointment Eddie tries to hide written over his face. Smiling, you sit on the edge of his bed, wriggling your hands down from your hips to your ankles. Eddie looks at you in confusion until you open your hand, your underwear in your palm.

"Now that's the best magic trick I've ever seen!" His eyes wide, grin threatening to split his face in half. You can only blush in response. Waddling over to you on his knees, Eddie grabs your hand and takes your panties. Before you can say anything they've been shoved into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Eddie!"

"What?"

"I hope I'm getting them back..."

"Getting what back?" Eddie grins wolfishly, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

The will to argue dissipates when his kisses trail higher and higher. With deft movements his rough fingers are rubbing the insides of your thighs, travelling towards your throbbing pussy. Leaning back onto your elbows you gaze at Eddie through half lidded eyes, wondering how you could have possibly gotten this lucky. As if he could sense your attention he glances up, running his tongue dangerously near your sex. You moan at the sensation, fingers grabbing the comforter underneath you.

"Fuck, you're just so responsive," he plants a kiss to your mound and you squirm, moaning.

"Oh, we are going to have a lot of fun sweetheart." Eddie smirked at you, eyes shining.

"Eddie please..." you wriggle, skirt riding up to your hips, cunt on full display for him.

He lifts your legs up and over his shoulders. The swipe of his tongue over your tender heat is sudden, sending rivers of pleasure through you. Gently he laps at you, his thumbs pressing bruises into your thighs. The feeling is immense, flowing, molten fire running through your veins. It's both too much and not enough, you need more, more feeling, more Eddie.

"Oh God Eddie..."

He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks softly. Licking and kissing at you; you buck into him, chasing the feeling, unimaginable heat coiling in your stomach, chest, wrists. Nothing matters except this moment. Incoherent babble escapes your lips, telling him not to stop and how good it feels, then just his name, over and over and over.

Eddie's groaning into you, the vibration nearly sending you over the edge. With a final suck to your swollen bud you come, clenching around nothing. You buck and writhe against his face, using it to chase never ending pleasure. Lewd, erotic noises fall from your mouth but you can't find it in you to care. All that matters is you, and Eddie, and the feeling.

Shaking and whimpering you start to come down, well and truly spent. Knuckles white from how hard you were clinging to the bed clothes. Realising this you finally loosen your grip. Eddie moves your still twitching legs off of his shoulders and looks up at you. Your slick is coating his lower face, shining in the light. Eddie literally looks like the cat that got the cream. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I've changed my mind, that is my new favourite thing to do" he says with a roguish grin.

Your smile at him, arms reaching out, making grabby hands at him. Chuckling he climbs over you, straddling you. You kiss him full on the mouth, lingering tang of you on his lips. Fingers stroke down to his waist, fiddling with his belt.

"Woah princess no need. Literally." He looks you in the eye, and you stare back, hand reaching to his manhood, and glance down.

Oh.

"Did you-"

"Cum in my pants? Yup." Literally no shame in his voice; he almost looks proud.

You giggle, hand to your mouth. It's almost a relief, having no real idea of what to do with it anyway. Plus, it's nice to know you have a similar effect on him.

"So, I'm gonna clean up and get changed. You need something to sleep in?"

"I'm ok, I usually sleep naked, if that's not a problem?" Your eyes meeting his.

Groaning, Eddie throws his head back, hands to his face, and falls backwards to the floor. You gasp, then realise this is Eddie being his usual self.

"Holy shit sweetheart you cannot say shit like that to me. I've died. I've literally died, and I'm in heaven, and you're some sort of angel." He splays his arms wide, tongue out, eyes closed. Shaking your head you throw a pillow at him, jerking him out of it.

"No need for the vicious attack, I'm having a moment."

He jumps up to go to the bathroom. Stripping off and climbing under the covers, you take a minute whilst he's away to think, really think. It's so hard when he's so near, clouding your judgement. You know you can be impulsive. Is this too much too soon? Am I gonna make a fool of myself? Does he really like me as much as I like him? Your emotions usually get the best of you and the constant struggle is exhausting. Maybe you don't need to think about this tonight. Enjoy tonight, let tomorrow be what it is.

When Eddie returns, all doubt is erased from your mind. He's standing there in a pair of plaid boxers, and his eyes light up at the sight of you in his bed. The look he gives you makes you feel like you're the only girl in the world.

Smiling shyly at him, he stands at the foot of the bed, continuing to stare.

"Something on your mind Eddie?"

"No I'm good, just a bit... overwhelmed." Knowing smirk plastered on his face.

"I can probably help you with that, you know."

"Well, it seems like we've got all night." The look on his face is pure sin.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fan fic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic

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stairain · 1 month

Text

Double-Edged Sword

The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, strap-on (he’s wearing it!), vibrator, riding, crying, slapping, erectile dysfunction, female orgasm, male orgasm, degradation, self-doubt.

WC: 1.6K

The poor man was already in tears by the time you had buckled him into the harness. Weak pleads for you to show some semblance of mercy as you pull the dark leather tight against his trembling thighs.

“Please, please ‘m sorry.”

Spencer cries out as he shamefully looks down at the strap-on that’s replaced his own aching cock. He’d been bad, of course, but this was pure cruelty.

Ignoring his pleads, you wrap your lips around the head of the fake cock, the cold silicone shining against the wet buds of your tongue.

His eyebrows furrow in envy, wishing to replace the toy instead of the vice versa he's found himself in.

"Please, it's not fair.."

Spencer's voice trails off as you shamelessly stroke the dildo as if it were real. Using your circled fist, you wet the toy with a droplet of your spit and jerk it off.

And despite his envy, he wishes so desperately that he could get hard. You’d locked his poor cock in a wretched metal cage, the cold silver bars preventing him from reaching even half mast.

His thighs tremble from around your head, and you coo pitifully at him, your hand still torturously wrapped around the strap.

“Poor thing, sit down, will you?”

Your voice beckons to him, raising your chin a bit as you gently push him back until his legs hit the bed frame.

With a frustrated huff, he sits down against the soft comforter as you climbs atop him. His eyes shine with tears and pleas for you to stop whatever this punishment is.

The pupils reading apologies and lines of ‘I learned my lesson’ that you had no interest in.

Pulling your panties to the side, you rub the sensitive bud of your clit over the artificial head of the cock that was everything but him.

“Can you feel how wet I am?”

You taunt, looking Spencer right in those sad eyes filled with betrayal and jealousy. With your lips parted in soft sighs, you reach past him to retrieve the box that had contained the strap-on.

Your hand rustles in the cardboard for a moment, before you pull out a small controller no larger than your palm. Spencer swallowed thickly and tried to reason with you one last time.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.. Please just—“

A loud buzzing cuts him off, and his words plummet into a strained whine. Throwing his head back, a few tears run down his temples.

As you grind your soaked folds against the tip, the double-sided toy was pressed right against the thin bars of his chastity cage.

Spencer’s thighs squeezed together as the pain of not being able to get hard and the constant whirring of the vibrator quickly overwhelmed him.

He lets out a slacked-jaw moan as the metal against his shaft shakes as frantically as his body. And you relish in the sight as you sink down onto thick, hard silicone.

You lean into the crook of his neck and press wet kisses against the sweaty skin, beginning to lift yourself up and down in his lap.

“You feel so good, Spence.”

You whisper in his ear, and he’s quick to turn his head away from you in the same kind of bratty manner that got him into this situation in the first place.

He’s breathing heavily out of his nose, trying his hardest not to make any more noises. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wished it was him you were riding so fervently.

You hadn’t fucked him like this in a while, his chest ached slightly at the thought. Your drenched cunt greedily swallowing the whole toy in ways that he couldn’t help but tear up in envy over.

He missed when it was his cock that was being coated in that slick layer of white that you so easily granted to a stupid toy.

The brunet was snapped out of his jealous fantasy when you’re turning up the vibration on his toy. His eyes involuntarily roll into the back of his skull and his mouth can’t help but unhinge to let out a loud whimper.

The fake cock was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that only Spencer was allowed to find, and you grin evilly as you grab his loose jaw and force him to look at you.

You’re just as sweaty as he is, but your eyes aren’t filled with remorse like his are.

“See what happens when you act out?”

You rhetorically ask before you slap him across his already red cheeks. His head quickly turns with the force, and he lets out a quiet gasp.

Grabbing his jaw again, you’re quick to reprimand him once more.

“Thinking you can misbehave and still get what you want.”

You slap his face in the opposite direction and feel the tracks of tears that coat his face.

As you circle your hips and ride the strap even faster, all it takes is one look and he knows you’re close. He shakes his head and tries to speak, but he just can’t.

He doesn’t want a toy to make you finish, that should be him. It should be his cock that you’re grinding so hard on, his length that you should be tightening around, and his tip that should be stamping into your spot.

But instead, he’s forced to watch with a flaccid cock and heavy balls as you throw your head back and cum around slickened silicone.

Your release leaks around the dildo and onto his thighs, and that’s the only semblance of your pleasure he’s been allowed to feel. As your slick drips down his skin, tears stream down his face.

And that stupid vibrator underneath his cock is unrelenting, he’s so turned on but can’t do a thing about it.

With a heaving chest and lowered eyelids, you lift yourself up off his lap.

The toy bobs with the freedom from your cunt and dribbles with the pleasure of your orgasm.

Spencer’s absolutely breathless as you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him. Strands of his hair stick to his face, and he can barely muster up the courage to look you in the eye.

Your face is a blur to him as you lick up your release from the fake cock, wrapping your wet lips around the shaft and swallowing your own slick.

With a whimper, he closes his eyes and prays for this to be over. You’ve made your point, he’s easily replaceable, he needs to get his shit together.

But you’re not nearly done with him, not as you’re undoing the straps of leather as you suck off his replacement.

You release the harness from his body and let it drop to the floor. The incessant buzzing from the toy still ringing in the air, taunting him.

The dual purpose toy had given everything to you, and he’d gotten nothing out of it. He was nothing without you, and you could have everything without him.

Spencer’s head is clouded with sexual frustration and self disgust alike as you make quick work of fetching the key to his dear chastity cage.

Twisting the small key into the lock, the cage becomes undone and you pull it off of him.

But even as you discard the contraption, his soft cock lay before you in a pathetic display of uselessness.

With gentle hands, you reach out to cup his small bulge. There’s a sick smile on your face as you pour up at him.

“Look at you.. How could you have ever made me feel as good as that toy did?”

He huffs and tries his best to reason with you. He was certain he was better than that toy, he just couldn’t prove it.

“I can.”

He says matter of factly, but as you nestle his lack of erection, he’s proven himself inferior. There’s an excuse dying on the tip of his tongue the moment he gets distracted by the soft caresses you deal to his flaccid length.

It feels so good, but he simply couldn’t get hard. The cage had rendered him useless for your pleasures.

“It’s okay, Spence. We can just use the strap from now on..”

You softly murmur as you run your thumb against the soft head of his cock. The pathetic little thing leaks a drop of sticky precum, and you swirl it around as you can physically feel his refusal to your suggestion.

“N-No. I’m better than that thing, please..”

He whines gently, having been broken down by whatever mind games you’ve played with him.

Maybe the toy was better than him. At least it stayed hard, and at least it wasn’t about to cum from just a few soft touches.

There’s a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, and a tingling in his pathetic little cock that he simply can’t ignore.

Spencer tries his absolute hardest to hold out, but before you’ve even got a chance to rebuttal his pleads, a shaky moan forces its way from his throat as he spills over your thumb and pointer finger.

As hot droplets of cum coat your fingers, you sigh almost disappointingly and watch as his release covers his soft length.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry.”

He pitifully whispers as his entire body trembles with the aftershocks of a sorry excuse for an orgasm.

The toy that resides the role of his rival mocks him. Vibrating gently against the wooden floors that his sticky ribbons drip onto.

You stand up slowly and press a kiss against his tear stained cheek, knowing that he’d be on his best behavior from here on out.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

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onlybunss · 2 months

Text

Yours (M)

Pairing~ professor!jungkook x student!reader

Warnings~ Pet names, slut kink, sir kink,creampies,bjs, praise and degradation kink,spanking,doggy style,age gap

A/N: Jungkook is 26 The reader is 18

You hated your biology professor more than you hated Mondays, but you couldn't deny that he was hot... His lectures were long and boring, but his rugged good looks always managed to hold your attention. Despite his unappealing teaching style, you found yourself looking forward to his class just to catch a glimpse of him. But you couldn't help but wonder if his attractiveness was the reason you were struggling to focus on the subject matter. His presence in the classroom made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else, making it a constant internal battle between your attraction and academic performance. You found yourself daydreaming about him even when you were supposed to be taking notes. That's what led you to be in his class after school and bend over his desk while he smacked your ass. "Sir," you moaned out as he let out a harsh slap. "I told you to count out loud,you slut" he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. The mixture of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, leaving you craving more of his attention and discipline. "T..ten," you moan out, feeling the sting of the slap linger on your skin. "Good girl," he praised, his hand coming down on your ass again. The thrill of the forbidden act and the control he exerted over you only fueled your desire for him further. "On your knees," he commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You obeyed without hesitation, eager to please him and submit to his dominance. You hastily took him into your mouth, feeling his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided your movements. "Fuck, just like that slut," he groaned, his hips thrusting to meet your eager mouth. You looked up at him with a mix of desire and submission as you kept bobbing your head around his dick. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you, his breaths becoming more ragged with each movement. You yelled a little in surprise as he suddenly pulled you up by your hair, his grip firm and possessive. "On your hands and knees, now," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. You complied without hesitation, feeling a rush of excitement at his dominant tone. He wasted no time entering you from behind, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your body. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he claimed you completely. "Fuck, sir, harder!" you moaned as you begged for more. His movements became more intense, and his control over you was evident in every powerful thrust. You surrendered to his dominance, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being taken so thoroughly by him. As you reached the peak of ecstasy, he growled in your ear, "Who do you belong to?" "Y..you" you whispered breathlessly; your voice barely audible as you gave in completely to his dominance. His grip on your hips tightened as he continued to drive into you, his pace unrelenting. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of blissful release. Your body quivered with anticipation as he whispered, "Say it louder for me." "I belong to you," you gasped, your voice stronger this time as you finally surrendered completely to him. The intensity of his movements pushed you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You collapsed on the desk, completely spent and satisfied, as he held you close, both of you basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. The room was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of your racing hearts, He slipped his dick out of you, our mixed relese flowing out of me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he whispered, "You're mine." Your body tingled with the lingering sensation of his touch, a feeling of contentment washing over you as you lay in his arms. "Lets get you cleaned up"

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #bts army #bts hot #bangtan

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