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changbinlov3r · 2 days

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The very first night | L.M.

Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader

Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.

Genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

Words count: ± 3,200

THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

If you like my content don't forget to ✨reblog✨

Warnings: virgin!Minho, virgin!reader, very sloppy and eager sex, unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral(F receiving), biting(I think that's all)

A/N: I was reading this fic by @moonlinos and had this thought: "what would be like to have your first time with inexperienced bf Minho" and it came out like this 🥺 I'd like to tell @/moonlinos that I just found out about your blog and your writing is amazing, you're really an inspiration 🫶🏻

You met Minho on your first day of college, you were lost in the campus trying to find the orientation room when you bumped into someone, letting your books and bag fall to the floor.

It was your fault, you were looking around and didn't see the man coming in your direction. You apologized right away, more preoccupied with picking up your things rather than looking in his face but he didn't answer you, waiting for you to properly look him in the eyes.

To say that you two hit it off instantly when your eyes met his, it's an understatement. You even blinked a few times making sure you weren't dreaming. That guy was the prettiest man you have ever seen and it's not even an exaggeration. He was wearing a light pink sweater with a white dress shirt below, dark blue jeans and all stars. It was an outfit that would look average in anyone else but it looked like a masterpiece in him.

You didn't want to let him go so in the spur of the moment, you asked if he knew where to find the orientation for your major, just to find out he was also going there. After that day you two got closer like it was nothing, you were never good at making friends but it seemed so natural with him, like it just happened you didn't have to put a lot of effort into it.

You first realized your feelings for him when he told you he had a date coming up. You felt like throwing up and the ache on your chest just made the whole situation more excruciating.

You avoided him for a week after that, trying to convince yourself that you weren't in love with him or at least that you could pretend not to be in love with him.

When he showed up at your dorm in the middle of the night looking extremely tired, eye bags under his eyes and hair a mess, he inquired why you were being like that and you suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore. You decided in the split of a second that it was worth it to confess to him, so you did.

He blinked once, twice and for a third time, not letting out a single word, making you suddenly regret everything that you said to him. What if he wanted to end your friendship? You don't think you could handle losing him as your friend too.

But in an unexpected turn of events he stepped close to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you.

“I thought you didn't like me back”, he whispered after pulling away, breathless. “That's why I was trying to move on”

You felt relief wash all over you, so he liked you back it seems.

After months of dating, you still hadn't gone beyond kissing and some light touching. You always let things flow in your relationship, knowing that you two would give the next step when you were ready. And it was sooner than you expected.

The end of the semester had arrived, finals were finally over and you could take a deep breath. You and Minho would meet in the cafe in front of the college gates, grab some coffee and go back to his apartment to watch some movies and cuddle. His roommates would be out tonight partying to celebrate the end of the semester and the apartment would be just yours.

“Fried chicken or pizza?” He asks, scrolling on his phone while selecting something to order.

“Fried chicken?” You ask back, making him glare at you. He hates how indecisive you are so he always tries to give you few options.

“Ordered”, he tells you.

“I'm gonna take a shower”, you get up going to the bathroom.

Your bath is a bit longer than usual, you are not in a hurry today since you can stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow but when you open your eyes there's a surprise in the wall next to you.

“Minho!” You yell, screaming like you just saw a ghost. You grab a towel and jump to the other side of the bathroom, watching as your boyfriend swings the door open, worry in his face.

When he looks at you and sees you are safe and sound, he scowls.

“What is it?” He rushes you, impatiently.

You point out in the bathroom, tears in your eyes.

“Did you make all this scandal because of a cockroach?” He asks, huffing but goes after it and kills it for you.

“You know I hate them”, you make a disgusted face. “They are gross”

He sighs, just now paying attention to you and noticing that you have only a towel covering you. You only remember that fact when his cheeks and ears turn pink and you look down, instantly covering your chest.

“Don't look!” You whine, hiding behind the door.

“Okay! Okay!” He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around and closing the door.

What follows after that is an awkward atmosphere, you are boyfriend and girlfriend but never have seen each other naked. You know it's something that is certain to happen but you never really discussed much about it.

You decide to address the issue when you are already on your second glass of soju. You look at him challengingly, narrowing your eyes.

“I think I should see you without a shirt since you have seen me too”, you tell him. It's not what you wanted to say, you wanted to ask if he ever thought about your first time but the moment you were going to say it you chickened out.

“I haven't seen you without a shirt though”, he says, “you were covered by a towel”

“But that's the equivalent of me being naked in front of you, so now you have to pay me back”, you roll out your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. You're not drunk enough to be doing that but you're definitely embarrassed enough to be doing that.

Minho sighs, knowing you won't drop it. So he puts his hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling it off, revealing his abs.

You can feel your cheeks burning, you have never seen him without a shirt and the only thing that comes to your mind to describe him is: tempting.

You gulped down, feeling a strange pool form in your panties, you can feel it getting soaked.

“I think now it's your time to pay me back”, he raises a brow, making you bite nervously on your bottom lip.

“I'm not wearing a bra”, you whisper, feeling your heart beat faster at each passing second.

“I wasn't either”, he jokes, making you punch him in the arm. When Minho doesn't look away, staring at you intensely, you realize he's being serious about that so you gather all the courage you have, grabbing the rem of your — well, it's actually his, shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall down to the ground as you become completely mesmerized by the look on his face.

Minho has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, lust emanating out of him. You can see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace.

“Can… Can I touch you?” He asks, looking into your eyes desperately and you nod, watching as he comes closer, cupping your breasts with both of his hands. He's on his knees in front of you, kneading on the soft flesh of your chest. Minho pinches your nipple, groaning when you let a moan escape. He's sure it's the prettiest sound he has ever listened to.

He leans over you, taking your lips into his. The way he kisses you stays the same, calm and gentle. He trails wet kisses down your jaw, to your neck, seizing the opportunity to mark you with his teeth, something he loves to do and that's the closest he has ever been to your chest until today. He goes down tracing kisses till he's in front of your breasts, Minho kisses the hill between them and attaches his mouth to the right one, still massaging the left one, pinching the bud eventually because likes to hear you whimper and sigh.

Your hands go to his hair, pressing him against your chest. You have your eyes closed shut, probably an unflattering face of pure pleasure but you really don't care. Minho sucks at your other breast before going down, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

You're embarrassed, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable like that and you really want to have him go down on you but you're a bit scared since your friends always talk about how guys find it a hassle to go down on girls. You know Minho is not an asshole, he won't want you to do the same to him if he can't pleasure you first.

“Can I?” He asks when he notices your hesitancy, his fingers are hooked at the waistband of your sweats, playing with the elastic while you decide if you'll let him continue.

“You don't have to feel obligated”, you bite on your bottom lip, not very sure on what to do next.

“I don't, I really want to do it”, he says, but seeing as you don't look like you believe him, he chuckles. “Chan said he really enjoys going down on his girlfriend, I wanted to try it since we started dating but didn't know how to ask”, you can see his ears turning a dark shade of red, making your heart beat faster.

You nod, feeling more nervous than before.

“Can we kiss a little bit more?” You ask and he nods frantically.

“We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready”, he says, hovering over you and kissing your neck.

“I'm ready”, you cup his face, making him look at you. “I'm just nervous”, you chuckle awkwardly.

“It's fine”, he gives you a peek on the lips. “Should we move to the bed?” He asks and you nod, getting up as Minho collects your things and his, following you to his bedroom.

It takes you half an hour of making out to grab Minho's hand and pull it down to your core, you lift the waistband of your sweats and panties so his hand can find your soaked pussy. He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick and pressing it on your clit.

“Is it good like this?” He asks, even though your face should give it in right away that he's pleasuring you.

“Yes, please don't stop”, you put your hands on his arms, digging your nails on his skin. Minho chuckles, doing what you asked but also adding another finger, making you open your eyes in an instant to stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh”, it's the only thing you can let out when you feel the knot forming on your lower stomach.

He kisses you, turning the experience into something much more deeper. By the way he kisses you, no longer the calm and gentle but now an eager and hungry kiss, you can feel how urgent he's feeling, how much he wants you and that's enough to make you come on his fingers.

You take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes just to witness your boyfriend putting his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. You gulp, feeling a burn run through your body.

“Can I go down on you now?” He asks, eyeing you eagerly and you nod, still too dazed by your orgasm.

Minho doesn't lose time, moving to your bottom part and pulling off your pants and underwear with him. He looks at your pussy enamored, like you're the prettiest creature he has ever seen and that makes you embarrassed, moving your hands to cover yourself but your boyfriend shakes his head, preventing you from continuing.

“Don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful, I have no words to describe it”, he tells you, eyes so sincere you can't even tease him about lying.

You nod once more, laying down comfortably as he trails kisses up your legs. Minho kisses your ankles, then your calves. He follows the path to your knees, kissing the inside of each and then going to your thighs, doing the same thing. When he leans down on your core, you hold your breath, feeling his hitting on your skin. You have goosebumps all over your body when he kisses your clit, making you sigh and let go.

Minho licks a huge strip between your folds, gathering all the juice he can get on his tongue, enjoying your taste. You moan loudly, earning a glance from him, he was so concentrated by his own pleasure on feeling your pussy on his mouth that he forgot to check what was your reaction and he's glad to find that you're enjoying yourself, hands flying to his hair as you pull him more into your cunt. He keeps licking your clit, sucking and even biting just to make you shudder glaring at him. He chuckles every time, making the vibrations stimulate you even more.

Minho puts on a finger, testing the water to see how you react, he puts on another one when you look unbothered by just one, earning a reaction from you as you whine and moan. You can feel your second orgasm of the night being ripped out of you, as he intensifies his sucking on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you.

You let out the louder couple of moans of the night, holding onto the sheets for dear life as you tremble and arch your back in pleasure. You're absolutely fucked out and have no idea how Minho can keep going, his hair is a mess and his lips are swollen, his face is covered on your juice from his mouth until his chin. When he kisses you again, you can feel your own taste on his tongue, making you groan.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your leg. He still has his pants on looking painfully tight.

“You wanna keep going?” He asks and you nod, biting on your lip. “I think Chan has some condoms stocked, I'm gonna take a look”, he starts moving out of the bed but you hold his wrist, pulling him back to you.

“I'm on the pill”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I’ve been taking it since we started dating”, you prop yourself up, leaning on your elbows as you kiss him, “wanna feel you”, you say, making his breath hitch and his face turns red.

He nods, blinking a few times before leaning over to kiss you once more. His body hovers over yours as he positions himself between your legs, his cock teasing your entrance carefully.

“If it hurts, tell me”, he checks with you for the last time and you nod. He starts pushing his cock inside you, your hands are holding him by the shoulders, digging your nails on him but he doesn't seem to mind.

He closes his eyes briefly, feeling your velvet walls squeezing him so much it's hard to keep going. Minho stops when he hears you sniff, opening his eyes just to find your eyes full of tears and trembling lips.

“Am I hurting you? You should say it if I am”, he scolds you gently, something only he can do.

“The first time is supposed to hurt”, you explain.

“But I can do something to make it hurt less if you tell me what you're feeling”, he kisses your forehead, having all the care to not move inside you.

“You're already making it so much more comfortable”, you smile, kissing his nose.

“Maybe you should be on top, that way you can have the control”, he tells you and you ponder for a minute, nodding.

He pulls out of you, making you whine to the sudden loss, making you feel empty. Minho chuckles, kissing you before laying down to watch you be the one to come on top of him.

You grab his cock, position it in your entrance and push it in. You're much more brave than him, Minho thinks, but also you're the one who knows how much pain you can handle so it's only right for you to have the control — at least on your first time.

You sink down on his cock slowly, making him grab the sheets rather than your hips, too afraid to put too much pressure on you and hurt you. Your face tells him you're in pain, but he knows there's not much he can do about it other than soothe you. So he caresses your back with one hand and your face with the other, sliding his hands to your breasts and kneading at them so you can at least relax a bit.

When you finally have all of him inside of you, you sigh, staying still for a couple of minutes. Minho feels like he can explode at any second, you're squeezing him like crazy but he doesn't want to hurry you so he waits for you to move.

You start grinding on him, rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and trying to relax the most. After a while the pain is almost not perceptible and you start riding him at a fast pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, Minho says, finally grabbing at your hips to pull you down on him.

You can't really form coherent sentences, so the chant of “ah-ah-ah” followed by your kisses on him and you marking his chest is the biggest form of communication you can manage at the moment.

Minho thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen, he thought that the moment your eyes lock for the first time and he'll think that until you two are too old to remember what you ate the day before.

When he feels like he's about to cum, he warns you and you nod to let him know you understand but keeps sinking down on him even deeper. He paints your walls white while trembling, his bottom lip stuck between his bunny teeth as he holds your hips with such strength that you know it's gonna bruise. But you don't mind, not at all.

You didn't cum this time, it wasn't as painful as it could be but still painful enough to not edge you.

“I'm sorry you didn't finish”, he pouts as you pull out of him and snuggle yourself in his arms.

“You made me come twice”, you chuckle, making him smile before kissing the top of your head.

“But I wanted to do it a third time”, he huffs.

“We have all the time in the world”, you tell him, resting your chin on his chest as you watch him grin.

“Yes, now you're mine forever”, he giggles to your widened eyes.

“Should I be worried?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“You were already mine from the start, you just didn't know it yet”, he kisses you, pulling away just to stare at you for a few seconds. “I love you”, he confesses and you feel your cheeks burning.

“I love you”, you say, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again.

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vbecker10 · 3 days

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Loads of Fun

Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to admit that he hasn't quite gotten used to all the new technology since he was freed from the Winter Soldier and his latest issue is with the dryer. Y/N catches him mid-struggle with the machine and comes to his rescue.

Warnings: some light swearing, feeling a tad useless and old, Bucky struggling hard with the laundry, Y/N being super awkward

A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and @alexakeyloveloki comment inspired me to write a short fic about it so... enjoy 💚

This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)

"Oh.... I messed up," you close your book and get up from the couch quickly as you suddenly realize it's almost midnight. You had meant to only read one more chapter but you had gotten lost in your book as always.

You grab your detergent from the closet, drag your overflowing laundry hamper to the door and slide on a pair of flip flops. "Every freaking time," you mumble to yourself as you open the door. Once again, you put off doing laundry until you completely ran out of clothes.

The elevator doors open and you step out into the basement. "At least no one should be down here," you think out loud thankfully.

You had tried to do your laundry this morning but you gave up on that idea as soon as you opened the door. Loki's girlfriend was sitting on top of one of the dryers with her legs around his waist. You put your hand on the door and shake the images of the two of them away, you don't need that to be stuck in your brain.

"Damnit," you whisper as you freeze completely, the door halfway open. Bucky has his back to you as he stares at the dryer, unaware of your presence. You had developed a crush on the super soldier and decided the best way to handle it was to avoid him at all cost like any other mature adult. You were terrified that you might say or do something embarrassing so you thought your best option was to never be alone with him.

You sigh, knowing you're out of underwear and options so you open the door the rest of the way. Before you can say anything to him, the dryer Bucky is focused on begins to beep loudly.

"I don't know what you want from me," he says to it, his voice full of frustration.

He opens the door and the sound stops, you are both completely still but as soon as he closes the door it begins again. He pushes the button on the panel to start the dryer but the beeping continues.

"Why are you so complicated?" he asks the machine, clearly unaware that he is no longer alone. He pushes another button that does nothing to quiet the sound then he groans loudly, nearly ripping the door off the hinges with his metal arm.

"Do you need help?" you ask quietly from behind him.

He closes the door quickly as he turns around to face you. You can see the frustration in his expression turn to embarrassment when he realizes you were watching him. As he opens his mouth to answer you, the dryer starts to beep again.

He pulls the door open and turns towards you again. With a look of utter defeat he says, "I think it hates me."

You cover your mouth to keep from giggling at the fact that a super soldier is losing a battle with an appliance. There is no need for you to add insult to injury, you think, but he does look like he is in desperate need of a hug.

You walk over to him and drag your hamper in front of an empty machine. "I'm sure it doesn't hate you," you reassure him with a smile and he shrugs, clearly not believing you.

"Can I take a look?" you ask pointing at the dryer and he nods, moving away from it as if it might explode at any second.

"You can try but I'm telling you, this one is evil," he laughs nervously.

"I think I can handle it," you try to sound sure of yourself. "Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way," you suddenly decide to introduce yourself as you close the door.

"I know," he answers and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, the beeping continuing. "You work for the IT department," he says and you feel yourself blushing. "I've seen you around the Tower a few times."

"Yep, that's me," you respond, trying not to sound as if your internally screaming. He remembers my name? When did we even talk? I definitely would remember if we talked. Focus, focus, you yell at yourself, you've been staring at him for too long.

"Well, they don't train us to handle haunted appliances but I think I can handle this one," you say then immediately cringe. Why do I talk? You think, this is why I avoid him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Bucky laughing. You turn towards your new favorite sound and he smiles at you as he leans on a nearby washer.

Ok, you think to yourself, time to show off and fix this stupid thing. You check to see what settings he's used but they all look right. Well, there's that, you think a bit annoyed but you're determined to figure it out. Suddenly you get an idea.

"Sometimes these things get weird when they are unbalanced or too full," you explain as you open the door and bend down. You reach in to level things out. A second too late you realize your holding a pair of his damp boxers and throw them back inside.

"Yep, these look fine," you close the door quickly and stand up, hoping he didn't notice but you can tell he saw you pick them up. "No. I mean... not that the boxers look fine, just like the load is fine. I- I'm just gonna..." you say, as you turn to face the dryer again. "I'm gonna die," you whisper as you rub your face with your hands. Good job dummy, you managed to make this even more awkward.

"Damn dryer is going to beat both of us," he says after a moment of continuous beeping and you can't help but agree with him.

"I think you might be right-" you pause, your eyebrows scrunching as a blinking red light catches your attention. "Has this been blinking the whole time?"

"I think so," he guesses. "Is that important?"

You sigh and nod, "It means I'm an idiot."

He tilts his head, his arms folded across his chest as he watches you open the dryer door again. You pull open the small door at the bottom and groan. He walks closer to see what you are doing but you don't notice until he leans over your shoulder.

"What is that?" he asks and you jump at how close his voice is to your ear. "Sorry," he laughs. "Thought you knew I was in here."

"Yea I just thought you were over there," you wave you hand towards where he had been and almost hit him in the face with the back of your hand. He dodges it easily and laughs lightly as you cover your mouth. "I'm so sorry," you mumble from under your hand.

"Its fine, you missed," he says with a grin. "So what's wrong with it?"

You pull out the lint trap and show him, "This thing is full so it won't run until we empty it." His expression tells you he has no idea what it is so you explain how a lint trap works and that if you don't clean them out you could potentially start a fire.

"Oh," he responds. "Wouldn't it be helpful if the stupid thing said that's what was wrong with it instead of just beeping?"

"It did," you groan then point to the light that is no longer blinking. "That's what the little light was for."

You wait for him to be stunned by your stupidity. You work for the IT department at Stark Industries, the most technologically advanced company in the world and you barely fixed a not broken dryer. You turn it on for him then turn your attention to finally loading your clothes into the washer.

Instead of responding the way you think he will, he sighs and takes a seat. "I don't understand any of this new technology," he admits.

You turn over your shoulder to look at him and see that he seems defeated again. "Don't worry," you try to make him feel better. "Stark likes new toys. He gets all the fanciest tech, no one knows how to use this stuff."

"I don't know how to do anything," he rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. You turn on the washers and walk towards him. "Nothing is simple anymore."

"What do you mean?" you ask as you sit in the empty chair next to him.

"Everything is a computer now and the whole building talks. The fridge has more technology in it than the last car I drove, the toaster is voice activated, hell even the sinks are motion sensors," he says, his eyes focused on his hands as he talks.

You cover your mouth quickly to hide your laugh but it slips out. He looks at you and you lower you hand to ask, "I'm sorry but... who told you the toaster was voice activated?"

"Sam," he says then his eyes widen, "It's not is it?"

"No," you shake your head and can't hold back your laughter.

He groans, lowering his head again, "I'm gonna kill him."

"You didn't really believe him did you?" you ask in disbelief.

"I spent five minutes yelling 'toast' at it this morning before he said it was probably updating," he admits, covering his face with his metal hand.

You smile and imagine him getting more and more annoyed at the poor little appliance.

He sits up, resting the back on his head on the wall behind you. "I just don't know why everything is so complicated," he says and you suddenly feel guilty for laughing.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, looking down at your feet. "Have you tried talking to Steve about getting you up to speed on some things?"

"I don't want to keep bothering him every time I can't turn on a light or get ice out of the fridge," he says. "Steve adjusted fine so I just have to keep trying to figure all of this out."

"Who told you Steve adjusted well?" you ask before you can stop yourself.

He looks at you but doesn't answer so you continue talking. "I was part of the team that helped wake him up. Trust me, he freaked out plenty of times and he was confused by pretty much everything in the beginning."

He shakes his head, "I didn't know that, it's one of the only things we've never really talked about."

"I'm sorry we didn't have a team prepped for you when you joined. I guess we just sort of figured you had been awake a lot more than Steve," you say. "As the uh... other guy," you add awkwardly, trying to avoid calling him the Winter Soldier.

"Technically I was but..." his voice trails off and his flesh hand covers his metal hand as he looks down.

"The other guy didn't do much cooking or laundry, did he?" you ask, finishing his thought.

"No," he answers.

After a short silence you say, "If you want, I can help get you up to speed. A lot of the tech around here is actually pretty easy to use, if you know what your doing."

"You don't have to waste your time," he shrugs. "I'll figure it all out."

"Helping you wouldn't be a waste of time," you tell him with a smile. "Besides, I have a lot of free time. I pretty much do nothing but read when I'm not working so I'm always around if you need me," you add and groan internally. Try to make it sound like you don't have a life at all, good job, you think.

He smiles and makes eye contact with you, "That would be really helpful, thanks."

You get lost in how his smile lights up his face but the long beep of the dryer finishing thankfully means you don't stare at him until it gets awkward. He gets up to empty the machine and you grab your book from the top of the washer before sitting back down. As you open the book he sits next to you again.

"Oh," you close the book and look up. "Sorry, I thought- you don't have to stay down here. I've got a while left until it'll be done."

He looks at the time left on the washer and says, "I just thought we could talk for a bit but... if you would rather read, I can leave you to it."

"I can read this later," you smile. You mean to gently toss the book on the table used to fold laundry but you over shoot and it hits the floor, sliding away from you. You cover your face with your hands and get up.

"I've got it," he laughs. He places the book on the table and sits next to you.

"I'm not usually a disaster," you tell him and he chuckles. "Actually, I kind of am. That's why I'm way better off with books and the tech stuff then with people," you admit. "I always do something stupid or say something weird," you feel yourself shrink back in your chair.

"I think it makes you interesting," he replies with a smile. "I'm never quite sure what you're going to say or do."

You laugh nervously, "Me neither." A second later your brain turns on, wait did he say I was interesting?

"There is actually one thing you could help me with now, if that's ok?" he asks, keeping you from focusing too much on what he had just said. He takes out his phone, "I think there's something wrong with it."

He hands it to you and you almost drop it when your fingers touch, "Ha, I've got it. Sorry." You open the settings and start looking for usual problems but things seem fine. You look up at him, "What's wrong with it?"

He smirks and says, "It doesn't have your number."

"Wow," you can't help but laugh. "That was really smooth."

He laughs and says, "I'm a bit out of practice but I thought that was good."

"It was," you blush and add your number before handing him back his phone.

He looks at it then back at you and says, "Okay, but seriously, how do I text you cause I'm not sure how exactly to do that."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

(I don't have a Bucky tag list yet so sorry my Loki list didn't get a choice lol)

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @cabingrlandrandomcrap @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter

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alexias-putellas · 1 day

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girlfriend // l.wälti x reader

l.wälti x reader

based on this request! ft an oc so apologies if your name is actually ava 😅😅 it’s not a long one but i wanted to get something out for you all since i’m feeling a little better <3

you scowled into your glass, rolling your eyes at beth’s pathetic attempt at concealing her laughter. leah’s hand was on lia’s arm again and when the blonde smirked at you, you had half a mind to throw your glass at her stupid face.

“you wouldn’t feel like this if you just asked her out.” beth said and you whipped your head around to look at her.

“why would i ask her out?”

”why would you ask her out?” beth scoffed and you were almost offended at how stupid she made you sound. “maybe because you fancy her and she fancies you.”

“yeah,” you snorted, motioning to lia and leah again. “sure looks like it.”

“leah’s just pissing you off, you know that nothing’s going on with them.”

you rolled your eyes again. beth was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. you’d seen the speculation from fans and whilst most of it was funny, some of it did bother you.

“here,” steph shoved a different drink into your hand as she dropped into the seat next to yours. “that’ll cheer you up.”

“ugh, i am not in a mood!”

both beth and steph gave you a look and you sighed, slumping back into your seat. suddenly drinking with the girls was a terrible idea. even more so when you looked back up to see lia and leah mere inches from each other.

“you know what? i think i’m gonna go,” you stood, gathering your things quickly, waving off the attempts at getting you to stay. “no, honestly, i’m pretty tired. i’ll see you both at training.”

you somehow managed to escape the pub without any more of a fuss and decided to forego your usual after-drinking meal and head straight home, your appetite suddenly lost.

ᡣ𐭩

how the girls managed to get you back into a pub a few days later you didn’t know. you must’ve said no a million times but yet there you were, glaring daggers at leah once again. who in your opinion was sitting far too close to lia. with a heaved sigh, you made your way over to the bar.

“the other one is a lot nicer.” someone said next to you and you hummed in confusion, glancing down at your drink before turning to them.

you found yourself face to face with a fairly attractive girl who couldn’t have been much older than you and you blushed under her intense gaze. “i’ve never actually tried it.”

“well we can’t have that,” she grinned at you before waving down a bartender. “i’m ava by the way.”

you just about managed to splutter out your own name before she was handing you a bottle, hitting the bottom of it slightly to encourage you to drink it.

she wasn’t wrong about the flavour. the one she’d ordered was a lot nice than the one you chose and you were quick to let her know.

had you been paying attention to your incredibly nosy teammates, you’d have noticed the way steph and beth were nudging each other and doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that they were talking about you. of course that caught the attention of your other teammates and soon you had an audience.

but lia wasn’t happy. she watched with a frown as you laughed at something the stranger said, your head falling back as you gripped onto the bar so you wouldn’t fall.

the brunette’s eyes were stuck on the two of you and she grew a little giddy when it looked like the conversation had ended but for some reason you were bringing the stranger over to the table.

“hey guys, this is ava,” you said, guiding the stranger—ava to the only spare seats. “she’s actually a huge fan.”

you and ava ended up in the seats between lia and jen and much to the swiss woman’s dismay, ava was as kind and funny as she was pretty. and the other girls seemed to really like her.

ava was answering one of jordan’s questions when you felt something brush against your thigh. you glanced down, seeing lia’s hand resting on your chair.

it wasn’t long before it founds its way onto your thigh. if ava noticed she didn’t say anything.

after a few more drinks, one of the girls suggested that you all relocated to the club down the road. of course nobody had objections and as soon as you’d entered the building, you were being pulled up to dance by katie and you were quick to grab ava’s wrist, the three of you heading over to the crowded dance floor.

you briefly noticed some of the other girls dotted around but katie was twirling you before you could do anything.

you were thankful that the lights were able to hide your flushed face as ava caught you in her arms. you watched as she glanced behind her, her grip loosening ever so slightly. if you hadn’t had that last drink, you probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. but leah was handing you a shot and all was forgotten.

for a while anyway.

you soon found yourself dragging ava into the toilets and whilst you weren’t expecting anything to happen, you were still a little disappointed that nothing did.

“i think i’m gonna go.” ava said loudly as you washed your hands, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“why?”

“your girlfriend is scary.”

“lia’s not my girlfriend.”

ava’s eyebrow quirked and you felt your face flush again, the clear lights doing nothing in your favour. “funny that you knew who i was talking about.”

“seriously though, she’s not.”

“could’ve fooled me,” ava shrugged. “it’s clear that she wants to be and i’m guessing you feel the same.”

“oh my—what is happening right now?” you whispered to yourself, quickly drying your hands on your dress. “i thought we were going to hook up but now you’re trying to hook me up with lia.”

there was a flash of something on ava’s face but you caught it, eyes narrowing as she laughed somewhat nervously. “stranger things have happened in this club i imagine.”

“yeah, no—which one of them put you up to this?”

ava sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “leah and beth.”

“both of them? can’t say i’m surprised,” you shook your head. “well ava, it’s been a pleasure to meet you anyway and i’ve actually had a really good night.”

“me too,” ava nodded in agreement whilst glancing at the door behind you. “now go get your girl.”

whilst that was something you wanted to do, part of you also wanted to see just how far your friends would go to get you and lia together.

you waved ava off and managed to find the girls, frowning when they appeared to be gathering their stuff to leave. you could hear katie calling them boring as she downed the rest of her drink.

her arm was quickly thrown around your shoulder and you were yanked into her side. this didn’t go unnoticed by lia.

“oh my god, katie, you’re so heavy get off!” you whined as you somehow made it outside, desperately glancing at the other girls for help. “you’re not even that drunk, get off!”

katie laughed as you struggled to push her off but eventually managed it. you glared at her, shoving her forward and ignoring the quip of be careful from beth.

you noticed that lia wasn’t there and glanced behind you to see her walking slowly, head facing the ground. you stood still, waiting until she was near you before speaking. “hey are you okay?”

lia looked up like a deer caught in headlights as she registered that it was you. in your head, you were so lost in the thought of telling her how you felt that you hadn’t noticed her standing right in front of you until her lips were on yours.

you melted into the kiss, stomach fluttering as her thumbs gently rubbed along the skin of your cheeks. when lia pulled away, you frowned a little, not ready for the moment to end just yet.

“why haven’t we done that before?” lia asked quietly.

“i’m not sure,” you whispered, glancing down at her lips. “but we should definitely do it again. and maybe some more tomorrow.”

and when lia’s lips met yours for another kiss, you made a mental note to profusely thank beth and leah for their annoyingly useful nosiness.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti imagine #lia wälti

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asterr1sk · 3 days

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⊹₊ ⋆ hong seunghan wc: 524 genre: fluff a/n: i miss seunghan. bring my boy back.

you’ve been friends with seunghan for as long as you can remember. it was the first day of college. you didn’t know where to sit. it was either beside a group of guys that gave you the ick or another friend group that you obviously know you can’t get close to no matter what you do. this one guy caught your attention. he was sitting quietly, wearing both of his wired earphones, bopping his head along with the song. you decided to sit beside him, noticing some cute shinchan items on his desk. he felt your presence, so he looked at you and nodded, holding out his hand to say hi.

months later, you became closer to him. now here you are sitting on the floor of his dorm, trying to teach him the math lesson taught yesterday. you guys always made your schedule match so no one would be alone, knowing that neither of you are good at making friend. of course, the only exception was between the two of you.

“this is too difficult, y/n~” he whined while throwing his hands up in defeat as he slid further down to the floor, looking like he had melted.

“well, it would be easy if you actually listened to the professor. right, seunghan?” you glared at him and pointed back at the paper with examples you made for him to answer.

“come on. you have to know this lesson. our professor might suddenly make us do a quiz. you know how he is. he makes us do some worksheets after three lessons, and they're graded.” you emphasized the last statement so he can sense that it’s serious.

“i hate doing this for grades, but okay, fine, whatever.” he sat back up and stuck his tongue at you. he finally answered the examples and slid the paper across the table. you checked his answers and let out a snort.

“you’re shit at math.” you said in a laughing manner as you continued to check his answers.

“yeah. no shit, sherlock. that’s why i asked for you to help me.” he let out a huff and crossed his arms. you stood up so you could sit beside him.

“then fucking move so i can teach you the right answers.” you put the paper back on the table and motioned for him to come closer.

“you were already in the right process, but your stupid ass decided to go the other way.” you looked back at him, then nudged his arm for him to pay attention. you noticed how his little black spike earring suits him so much. you always see him wearing that earring. it’s easy to recognize him from afar, even just by looking at his ears.

“hey, y/n.” he snapped you back to reality. “i think i know it now,” he grinned, looking smug.

“are you sure? maybe, you can answer the problem our professor gave.” he searched for it in the presentation given to us and started to write down numbers.

you sat still there as you tried not to think more about the person beside you. he’s nothing else but a friend, right?

#asterr1sk #riize #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize seunghan #hong seunghan #seunghan x reader

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samgirl98 · 3 days

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Mending a Family 37/?

Prev | Next

Happy Death Day, Jason! Have some suffering

The snow was finally thawing, and it was getting warmer. (Winter lasted longer up north.) Though cold and miserable sometimes, Jason felt better as the days lasted longer. Things were looking up.

Then April 27th hit.

The day hit him like a wrecking ball. It’s not as if he had completely forgotten about the day he got murdered, but it had fallen on the back burner as he spent the days with his new family and practiced his new powers.

His body was lethargic when he woke up that morning. Jason could barely move. He felt his bones grinding against each other. He felt as if they were breaking like…like that day as that monster beat him with a crowbar. The only thing that would distract him from the feel of broken bones was the licking of an explosion on his skin, the feel of lack of oxygen in his lungs…

Jason heard the door to his room opening. He couldn’t turn his head; it felt too heavy.

“Daddy,” a small voice said, “are you okay?”

Jason wished he could reassure Danny.

I’m fine, chum, he wanted to say. Daddy’s just feeling a little under the weather—nothing to worry about.

Jason could hardly blink away the tears falling down his cheek.

He lost track of time after that. When he came to again, the pain of broken bones had dissipated, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His lungs were full of smoke, his throat burned, and the tears felt good on his hot skin.

A cool weight on his arm helped bring him back a little. He suddenly noticed a red blob above him. As Jason’s eyesight cleared, he saw Jazz’s worried face. In her hand was a thermos.

“Hey, Jay. I won’t ask how you’re feeling, but the ecto in this thermos will help you feel better. Think you’ll be able to swallow?”

Jason’s throat burned worse at the thought of swallowing.

Jazz didn’t wait for an answer; she picked up Jason’s head and put it on her shoulder. She opened the thermos and poured a glowing, green liquid that reminded him of Lazarus' water into the thermos cup. She put the cup to Jason’s lips and dribbled some into barely parted lips.

She rubbed her fingers to Jason’s throat to encourage the citrusy-tasting liquid to go down.

After finishing the drink, Jason felt a little more alert. It was both a blessing and a curse. He could recognize Danny’s weight on his arm and hear Jazz’s calm breathing, but he was more aware of his feelings and the sensations he felt when he had died.

“Danny’s first death day was terrible, too. This is the first time you’ve experienced your death anniversary as a full halfa. Don’t worry; Danny’s second one was better. This time, his third one showed almost no symptoms. From what I could tell, he was just a bit tired.”

“Following that logic, your next one should be less bad. Danny told me the first time it felt as if he was relieving his death over and over again. I’m sorry you’re going through that, Jay. We should’ve explained this was going to happen to prepare you a little. I completely forgot, though.”

Jason could infer what a ‘death day’ was, but he still opened his mouth to ask.

“Shh, rest, big brother. You need your strength. Danny and I will explain later. I’ll be here to watch over you. Sleep.”

Jason couldn’t help but close his eyes. He felt comforted by his little family.

As the feeling of fire left his skin and he could breathe easier, Jason fell into a deep, dark oblivion he welcomed with open arms.

____

Red Robin and Robin flinched as Batman’s fist crunched under the goon’s face.

They both knew it wasn’t Batman who had been injured.

Red Robin had decided to patrol with Robin and Batman. He knew the date, coupled with Jason’s disappearance, would negatively affect Batman’s judgment. It was his job to keep Batman in line.

“Batman,” Red Robin called out as he hit the man’s face for the third time, “that’s enough. He’s unconscious.”

“Hn,” Batman dropped the man and handcuffed him. The man’s head lolled to the side.

Batman deployed his grappling gun and disappeared into the air.

“Was he this bad when Todd first died?”

Tim stared into the darkness his father had disappeared into.

“Worse,” he said before going after Batman.

Robin stared at the beaten goon for a second, contemplating. Then, he, too, followed his father. Todd needed to come home soon.

So, good news, I haven't updated not because of my depression or illnesses but because I moved from a little apartment we had been living in since I was a child into a house and also because I have a new job that I love!

Anyway hoped you liked this chapter.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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sweetblinginrose · 3 days

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: The girl goes in search of answers and ends up with the metalhead's cock in her throat... who would have thought…

word count: 8,3k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, ingestion of alcohol and joints, almost gave Sinclair a withey, spanking, blowjob in public.

a/n: hey guuurls, i wrote a second part since @alastorssimp asked for it and i reconsidered it. not sure if it’ll be as good as you said the first part was, but i think it’s alright, ig. the problem is the translation. if there’s anything you don’t get, let me know.

oh, and sorry for taking so long, i’m busy with my exams hehe.

kisses!!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

before reading this part, you have to read this one!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

In the darkness of the room, you and the long-haired boy lay in an oasis of intimacy, surrounded by an ocean of sheets that kept the secrets of your most vulnerable moments. The sheets, wrinkled and disordered, were a canvas of memories, impregnated with the aroma of tobacco that mixed with the freshness of the night and the sweet vestige of recently consummated sex.

His room, a sanctuary of orderly chaos, exuded warmth despite its disarray. Magazines with their folded pages and worn edges lay scattered on the floor, testimony to many nights of reading and lively discussions. The posters, hung with a nonchalance that bordered on art, danced on the hard plastic walls of the trailer, each telling a story, each a window to a different world.

The laughter you shared, free and genuine, rose and filled every corner, weaving a melody exclusive to your duo. The night breeze, complicit in your union, slid through the half-open window, shaking the faded and torn curtains that hung like banners of a forgotten kingdom. The air carried with it the characteristic aroma of the Forest Hills Trailer Park, a mix of freshness and adventure, which caressed your bare skin, causing a shiver that was both anticipation and delight.

But then, reality knocked on the door in the form of insistent knocks. It was Tom, his voice filtering through the plastic like a discordant melody, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement. His question, thrown into the wind with the nonchalance of someone who has enjoyed the most earthly pleasures, broke the spell of the moment. "Hey, lovebirds! What are you doing in there that your hair can't be seen?" He exclaimed, his laugh a laugh that mixed with the smoke and foam of the shared beers. It was a reminder that, although the outside world continued to spin, in that room, in that moment, only the two of you existed.

You stood up suddenly, as if propelled by an invisible spring, in the middle of the darkness that hung over the room like a thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest with the force of a war drum, each beat an echo in the vast cavern of your anxiety. The room, previously a sanctuary of laughter and whispers, now seemed like a mausoleum of silence and shadows, only interrupted by the gasping of two souls that had danced on the edge of the abyss.

Your eyes, two desperate beacons in the night, opened wide, capturing the pale moonlight filtering through the window. The reality of your nakedness, and that of Eddie at your side, hit you with the rawness of an inescapable truth. You remembered, with a clarity that hurt, each step that had led you to intertwine your destinies in the most intimate way. Fear, that old acquaintance, slithered across your skin, a cold snake that threatened to strangle your thoughts. The senses, now sharp as knives, tensed as they captured every whisper, every creak that the old house decided to give away. Fear had transformed into panic, a savage beast that threatened to devour what little composure you had left. You could feel, almost see, your friends' questioning gaze through the closed door, their imaginary eyes piercing the plastic like x-rays.

In an act of desperation, your eyes searched frantically for something to cover your nakedness, but the room offered only the promise of deeper exposure. The feeling of vulnerability was overwhelming, a giant crushing you to the ground with its mountain-like weight. The certainty that something shameful was about to happen paralyzed you, a pillar of salt condemned to look back.

You and Eddie looked at each other, and in his eyes you found the reflection of your own fear, a mirror where anxiety danced with shame. The footsteps outside the room echoed with the certainty of an approaching doom, and in that moment, you understood what it meant to be truly trapped, like on Elm Street, in a true nightmare.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you propelled yourself upwards, attempting to defy gravity and the circumstances that had brought you to that unforgiving ground. But your legs, betrayed by exhaustion and accumulated tension, did not respond as you expected. Instead of standing tall in triumph, you collapsed, your knees hitting the worn and stained carpet that told stories of countless encounters and disagreements. The sharp pain that shot through your knees was a cruel reminder of your humanity, an echo of the vulnerability you had tried to ignore. Your legs trembled, shaken by spasms that robbed you of any illusion of control. Still, in an act of desperation, you extended your arm, looking for the garment that would restore a minimum of decorum, but you only found emptiness. You couldn't find your favorite panties...

With your heart pounding in your chest, you resigned yourself to the urgency of the moment and focused on putting on your bra, feeling the cold sensation of the bonding metal against your bare back. Every click of the closure reminded you of the stark reality of the situation you found yourself in.

Embarrassment mixed with urgency as you wrapped yourself in the bra, feeling the stretchy fabric hug your torso tightly, offering you a modicum of protection amidst the chaos around you. The absence of undergarments increased your vulnerability, but you had no time to hesitate.

In the midst of the mess, your gaze drifted to Eddie, who was awkwardly struggling to put on his pants. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, an expression of determination etched on his face despite the hair tie he held between his lips. With each tug of fabric, his face reflected a mix of urgency and desperation, as he struggled to regain a bit of dignity in the chaos of the situation. The mess you were in was palpable, but you were both determined to deal with it in the best way possible.

Tom's thuds and drunken screams intensified, reverberating against the bare walls of the room, each impact an echo of the tension building in the fog-thick air. The atmosphere was saturated with chaos, each discordant sound a note in the symphony of nocturnal anarchy. In the eye of this sonic storm, the voice of one of your friends emerged, a thread of sanity in Tom's madness. His tone was a mix of concern and drunken sarcasm, imploring him to moderate the force of his against the door, that the noise might wake the neighbors and bring consequences unwanted. His words, although tinged with alcohol, managed to cut through the chaos, granting a brief respite, a moment of calm before the storm continued. Tom, distracted by the presence of your friends, walked away from the door, his unsteady footsteps guiding him back to the dining room. There, his voice rose again, a drunken shout trying to be charming, seeking the attention of anyone willing to listen.

Meanwhile, in the stillness of the room, you stood up from the cold, hard floor. Your knees, marked by the pressure of your fall, showed a redness that spoke of the subtle but persistent pain. With movements that belied your newfound vulnerability, you grabbed your skirt and t- shirt, dressing with a haste born of necessity. Eddie, next to you, imitated your movements. He gave a dry clearing of his throat, an attempt to impose some order on the chaotic scene. Unlike you, he avoided your gaze, his attention focused on piecing together his appearance, making sure every detail was in its place. Without looking at you, his voice cut through the silence, "Everything's cool, right? Can we go out now?" You nodded, although you knew he wasn't expecting your approval. With a discreet gesture, he opened the door just enough to enter. His exit was marked by a forced smile, a façade of normality that sought to erase any hint of what had happened.

When you returned to the living room, not so welcoming, everyone's eyes focused on you. Luckily, the known animosity between the two served as a distraction from any suspicion. Tom, impatient, asked in a voice clouded by smoke and alcohol, "What took you so long?" Next to him, one of your friends was trapped in a casual hug, the smell of marijuana and alcohol permeating the air. Eddie, with the skill of a veteran in these affairs, made up an excuse on the fly, something about an item lost in a bet. The explanation, although weak, was accepted without further ado. The others, absorbed in their world of laughter and drinking, dismissed the importance of the matter and plunged back into their feast of joy and excess.

The night unfolded like a dark blanket, dotted with stars that blinked indifferently at the tension that was brewing between you and Eddie. The gazes that had previously danced together in perfect harmony were now diverted, colliding with familiar faces in the crowd. Discomfort clung to you, a second skin made of silences and unspoken words, a transparent shield that isolated you from the human warmth that surrounded you. The bustle of the small gathering became a distant hum, as each one was immersed in a sea of silent reflections and imprisoned feelings. The tension that had floated between you, a dance of veiled contempt and hidden desire, had brewed over the years, growing silently until it became an invisible giant that now separated you.

There you were, at the epicenter of an oppressive silence, as Eddie's laughter and exclamations filled the space, a sharp contrast to your internal stillness. His happiness, so pure and overflowing, was a rare sight, a light you hadn't witnessed in a long time, and the brilliance of it left you with an empty feeling, as if a part of you had faded into the darkness. "I have to go now, guys. I had a great time today, see you on Monday..." you announced, with a voice that seemed to come from afar, from someone that wasn't you. You didn't dare to look back, to face the surprise or the perplexity that could appear on their faces. You felt the weight of her gaze fixed on your back, trying to pierce the armor of your most secret thoughts.

As you left the trailer, the cool night air hit your face, a cold blow that sought to shake you out of the emotional lethargy in which you had immersed yourself. Your steps began to lead you away, each one resounding like an echo in the solitude of the night, marking the rhythm of your retreat from a world of silent confessions and secrets that would never see the light.

It was then that Lucas appeared, his presence so sudden that he almost seemed like a ghost emerging from the shadows. "I'll accompany you," he said in a voice that brooked no reply. His company was unexpected, almost uncomfortable, but there was something comforting about his presence. He was nothing more than an acquaintance, a friend of your sister, a member of the Order of the Sith, but at that moment, his presence was all you needed.

The night had become a blanket of uncertainty and unanswered questions. Lucas, with his unbalanced gait, seemed the only constant in a world that was reeling. You didn't understand why he had decided to accompany you and not Mike, who also shared the proximity of his steps to his house. The age difference between you and Lucas was an abyss of experiences and experiences, three years that at that moment seemed like an eternity.

The silence stretched between you like a suspension bridge, fragile and tense, until Lucas broke it with a simple, "Hey...". His voice was a whisper in the night, but enough to capture your full attention. Looking at him, worry washed over you; his dark skin glistened with night sweat, and his normally lively and alert eyes were half-lidded and tinted a deep red.

"Yes? Are you okay, Sinclair?" you asked, stopping in your tracks. The possibility that he had smoked marijuana assaulted you, and with it, a protective instinct you didn't know you had. Lucas looked at you, and in that moment, the vulnerability he showed was palpable.

"No, it's just... I think you're very pretty..." Sinclair's confession came with shaky honesty, his voice a fragile thread on the night breeze. He was visibly affected, dizziness painted his world with tones of uncertainty, and his body trembled slightly, although adorned with a naive smile that failed to hide his state. You ignored his words, it was not the time for flattery or the vulnerability they exuded. You approached him, noticing how he towered over you in height, a difference that now seemed trivial. “Have you smoked anything, Lucas,” you asked, worry coloring every syllable of your question.

Lucas tried to respond, but his rapid blinks and difficulty swallowing revealed more than his words. He looked around, perhaps looking for a way out of his confusion, when he suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground. "Shit!" You exclaimed, as you crouched down next to him. You lifted him enough for him to sit, holding him steady. His eyes closed, surrendering to the sleep that called him, a dangerous mixture of alcohol and drugs had brought him to that sorry state. You looked around, searching for a solution, a refuge in the night for Sinclair. That's when you saw the 24-hour restaurant, an oasis of light and calm in the darkness. It was completely empty, as if it was waiting for you. Without hesitation, you decided it was the safe place to take Sinclair and help him recover. Carefully, you guided him towards the establishment, each step a silent promise that you wouldn't leave him alone in his time of need.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you crouched down and wrapped your arms under Sinclair's shoulders, feeling the dead weight of his body. "Come on, Sinclair, don't do this to me," you mumbled, your breathing labored by the effort. The dirt clung to your hands, and you could feel the wetness of the grass through your bare legs. "Sinclair, for the love of God, move something!" you exclaimed, as a vein on your forehead threatened to burst. Finally, with a groan that sounded more like a growl, Sinclair gained some consciousness, his eyes slowly blinking back to reality. With a superhuman effort, he managed to stand up, leaning heavily on you. They began to walk, each step a battle against gravity. “You weigh more than my sins,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as his body tilted dangerously to one side, forcing you to compensate for the weight.

The cafeteria is filled with the hum of an old refrigerator as the only soundtrack of the night. The flickering lights from the neon sign outside filter through the blinds, casting dancing shadows over Lucas's exhausted form. His head, heavy as lead, oscillates on the edge of the abyss of sleep, leaning more and more towards the table that supports his weight.

The clock strikes 3 am, and time seems to have stopped in this forgotten corner of town. You, with a gesture of concern that you cannot hide, decide to intervene. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with eyes that have seen too many early mornings, walks silently over and places a steaming plate in front of Sinclair. It's an onion soup, with its comforting aroma and melted cheese that stretches with every spoonful, promising warmth and sustenance. Next to him, a large, cold glass water bottle lands with a thud on the table.

Lucas, shaken by the sound, raises his head with a start, his eyes blinking, trying to focus on the reality around him. "You have to eat and drink the whole bottle," he insists, with his arms crossed and a firmness in his voice that brooks no reply. It is not your responsibility to take care of him, but your conscience does not allow you to leave him to his fate.

As Sinclair obeys, he begins to regain the color in his cheeks and the lucidity in his eyes. The soup works its magic on him, and little by little, life returns to his eyes. Outside, the town is still asleep, oblivious to the small miracle that occurs inside. And you, despite your initial revulsion, can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at seeing that, at least for tonight, you've made a difference in someone's life.

Lucas, with his mind still cloudy, clung to the fork as if it were an anchor in the middle of the storm. His eyes, glassy and distant, were lost in the abyss of the half-empty plate, where there had previously been a pile of comfort food. The cafeteria, plunged into a dead silence, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his next move. Was Sinclair who broke the spell, his voice tearing through the silence like paper thin. "Why did you leave there? It's because you don't like Eddie, right?" he asked, as the water swirled in his glass, reflecting his still trembling hands. Your face, a canvas of contradictory emotions, was contorted into a grimace of discomfort. Memories of what had happened just an hour or two ago assaulted you, forcing your lips into a tight smile, a clear indication of your discomfort. You were convinced that you had made a mistake, that something in your behavior had caused Eddie's averted gaze and silence. "I say this because... he doesn't dislike you, quite the contrary..." Lucas continued, dragging his words with the same slowness with which he cleaned his plate with a piece of bread. The bread, now soaked in the last vestiges of soup, disappeared in his mouth, as if with each bite it could erase the tension in the air.

Surprise appeared on your face when you heard Lucas' words. "What do you say? But Eddie hates me, or at least he did," you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh, as if the idea was so absurd that it could only be cause for a joke. Your eyes drifted for a moment to the waitress, whose curious gaze rested on the both of you. With her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, she looked like a statue, a silent observer of the strange dance of your conversation. Sinclair shook his head, her gesture was firm, denying your words with a seriousness that contrasted with your joking tone. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you, as if every word she was about to say needed the confidentiality of a whisper. "Look, I'm going to tell you, but if you tell Eddie, I'll kill you before he kills me..." His voice was a thread of tension, his eyes sleepy, as if the weight of what he was Sharing would burden him deeply.

Your confusion was palpable, but you nodded, giving Lucas the signal that he had your attention. He cleared his throat, clear preparation for what was to come, and leaned even closer, as if he feared even the walls could hear. "Long before us and your sister got to high school, Eddie was already crazy about you, so it's nothing new," Sinclair whispered, with a seriousness that made you question if it was really a joke. Despite your doubts, you decided to give him your full attention. It was a hard statement to believe; your interactions had always been marked by fights and teasing, a constant push and pull that left no room for deeper feelings. But after the recent sex, you found yourself reconsidering every look and word exchanged with Eddie. What if he was trying to flirt instead of bother you? Sinclair spoke with a rapidity that reflected the urgency and nervousness of sharing secrets that should not be revealed. "Ever since we started sitting with their group at lunch, they made jokes about you, I mean, about how hot you are and all that," his words flowed like an overflowing river, full of confidences and murmurs that had been kept with him. suspicion. "Although without knowing that your sister was your sister," he continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he remembered the collective surprise, "so, when we were offered to join The Hellfire Club and she said she belonged to The Sith Order, Eddie was perplexed." He readjusted himself on the couch, which seemed to hug him with the comfort of it, and looked you directly in the eyes. It was evident that every word he said was another piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together in front of you, a puzzle that, once completed, would change the way you viewed Eddie and possibly the entire dynamic of your social circle. Lucas looked at you with a knowing smile, his eyes. They shone with a gleam of amusement as you imagined your sister. "And since then your sister no longer sits with us, since Eddie considers her a rival of his," he said, his voice tinged with his humor. It was known that Sinclair had always been in love with her, and his tone suggested that he still harbored romantic hopes. "What I'm getting at," Lucas continued, pausing to take a long sip of water. "It's just that when Eddie wanted to see you, since, just as he said, you graduated before him because of his bad grades, he was talking to your sister so that the battles between the groups would start." His words flowed with the ease of someone sharing a long-kept secret, and you realized that your sister's constant bets were more than just games. "That's why your sister proposed so many bets," he added, with a gesture of understanding. Lucas lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, "And always, after we left the games, he would stare at you as he went, commenting on how beautiful you were, what good taste you had, and how intelligent you were." He paused dramatically, making sure you caught the importance of his next words. "Eddie is totally into you."

The revelation had left you speechless, a whirlwind of emotions washing over you as you tried to process what you had just heard. Eddie, the same Eddie that seemed like a constant in your daily life, was now intertwined with your feelings in a way you hadn't expected. A few years ago, every time you crossed the school cafeteria, your gaze unconsciously searched for his figure. Eddie, always alert, stood up as if he were waiting for you to pass, leaving a clear space for you to pass. You wondered if it was a coincidence or if, in some way, he also felt that invisible connection that united you. You remembered that time he called you a witch with a voice that was intended to be harsh, but his eyes betrayed the truth. It wasn't hate you saw in them, but a spark of fun, a lopsided smile that bordered on flirtatious. It was a game of looks and unspoken words that only the two of you seemed to understand, even though apparently, you didn't.

In the role-playing games you shared, Eddie transformed. He became the supreme narrator, his voice filling the room, creating worlds and adventures with astonishing ease. But when it was your turn, everything changed. His tone softened, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to want to decipher each of your thoughts. It was as if, in those moments, there was no one else in the room, just you and him.

Now, as you remembered those moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine, causing an involuntary blush to stain your cheeks. Sinclair's words echoed in your mind, giving you the courage to believe that, perhaps, what you felt for Eddie was reciprocated. It was a terrifying and exciting thought at the same time, a possibility that opened a new chapter in the story of your life.

Sunday slipped through scattered thoughts, like leaves blown by the autumn wind. The week became a countdown, each day marking one step closer to Friday, that day that promised practice with your group and, more importantly, Saturday, when you would have the chance to face Eddie once again.

The cabin, with its walls that whispered stories of ancient victories and defeats, welcomed you on Friday. The practice went without a hitch, each member of the group immersed in their role, building a parallel reality where anything was possible. But Saturday came with a bittersweet taste. The Hellfire Club was full, everyone except Eddie. His absence was like a vacuum that sucked the energy out of the room. You had taken care of your appearance, hoping to capture the magic of that previous night, but instead, you were met with words that fell like cold drops on your spirit. "Eddie said he didn't want to see you today," Dustin announced with a nonchalance that hurt you more than you expected. The screams of his friends echoed, a cacophony of reproaches rising like a storm. "What?" The surprise left you speechless for a moment, a pause that felt eternal. "What?! No! It's not what you think!" The boy you had helped was trying to repair the damage with hasty words. "Yes! Eddie literally said that!" Dustin insisted, causing gestures of frustration in the others, hands on their foreheads, mouths covered in an attempt to silence the truth. You didn't want to admit it, but the words affected you, a lot. After Sinclair's confession, you expected something more, something different. You then decided to put on the mask of indifference, pretending that Eddie's absence didn't matter to you, that his presence or lack of it were equally insignificant. You focused on the game, on the chips and dice, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of 'what ifs'. The game continued, but your heart was playing its own game, one where the rules were unclear and the only opponent was yourself.

Sunday dawned with a gray sky that seemed to reflect your mood. You got out of bed with the heaviness of someone carrying more than the weight of the sheets. College assignments were piled up on your desk, a mountain of words and numbers demanding your attention, but your mind was somewhere else, lost in the echo of a revelation that still echoed in your ears. With every page you turned, every problem you solved, Eddie's image was superimposed on the text, blurry and persistent. Night fell without you realizing it, and with it, the promise of a new day.

Monday came without classes, a small relief in your routine. Your mother, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you, asked you to pick up your sister from high school. You accepted, almost grateful for the distraction, for the chance to get outside and breathe fresh air. You arrived at the school and parked calmly. Soft music filled the space of the car, a melody that tried, unsuccessfully, to calm the waves of your heart. You got lost in your thoughts, looking towards the small forest that stretched like a green blanket beyond the institute, remembering the moments of hanging out with your friends to smoke while hiding from everyone. That's when you saw it. Eddie, accompanied by a girl, entering the forest. Alone. The scene hit you like a punch in the stomach, mixing alarm with sadness and, above all, with anger that burned through your veins. How could he be with another girl after what they had shared just less than two weeks ago?

The car clicked off, the keys still dangling from the ignition, forgotten. You got out of the vehicle, driven by an anger that blinded you. You left behind the responsibility of waiting for your sister, each step towards the woods fueled by the need to confront Eddie, to demand explanations, to understand why he hadn't shown up on Saturday, why he had left you with a heart full of questions and no response.

You walked with a determination that seemed to emanate from every pore of your skin, your fists clenched so tightly that your nails, long and sharp, dug into the palm of your hands, leaving small marks that would be silent witnesses of your contained fury. Your boots, faithful companions of so many days, hit the wet ground with a force that seemed to want to leave a mark not only on the earth but on destiny itself. The mud, stubborn, adhered to the edges of these, as if it wanted to stop you, but nothing could stop your progress. The girl, the one who had come out of the forest, passed by your side, her presence just a fleeting shadow in your visual periphery. For an instant, doubt made you recalculate, but it was just that, an instant. Your determination strengthened and you continued forward, towards the place that Eddie had made into his personal sanctuary. The bank in the middle of the forest was a silent witness of transactions and secrets. Worn by time and the stories he had endured, he proudly displayed his growing moss and cigarette burn scars on the picnic table. The trees surrounded it in an almost perfect circle, as if nature itself had decided to protect that space from intruders. And there was Eddie, oblivious to the world, with his only Walkman for company, moving his head to the rhythm of music that only he could hear. He counted dollars and cents with a precision that belied the apparent nonchalance of his posture.

You approached him, who had his back turned to you, oblivious to the storm of emotions that brought you there. With a decision that admitted no turning back, you turned him around forcefully, forcing him to face you, to look into your eyes. Surprise was drawn on his face, an unexpected and unmanly scream escaped his lips, while he took off his helmets with a speed born of bewilderment. "Shit, what are you doing—?" He began to say, but his question remained suspended in the air, interrupted by your hand that closed on his shirt, bringing him closer until the space between the two of them was almost erased. "Listen to me carefully, Munson, I think you have to explain a lot of things to me..." your voice was a thread of annoyance, but also of a determination that he didn't expect, feeling a tickle in his stomach. Eddie looked at you, and you saw something in his eyes that disconcerted you. It wasn't fear, or even surprise. It was a glow, a spark of something that seemed dangerously close to taste. Did he like that intensity, that fire you had inside? Or was it just another of his facades, another game in which he pretended not to be vulnerable?

"Explanations?" he replied, with a crooked smile that you didn't know if you wanted to erase or deepen. "What exactly do you want to know?" His tone was challenging, but there was a curiosity in his gaze that you couldn't ignore. "Besides, what are you doing here? Didn't you finish high school a year or two ago?"

The tension between you and Eddie was palpable, like a guitar string about to break. "What the fuck do you mean by what explanations?" you repeated, keeping your tone firm and defiant. Eddie's confident smile faded, replaced by an expression of surprise as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "We fucked, Eddie. We fucked, so I thought you liked me, but at meet-up time you don't show up and tell the guys you didn't want to see me? Are you stupid or something?" The words came out of you like bullets, each one loaded with the confusion and pain of feeling rejected, something that never happened, so it hurt your ego. You let go of Eddie's shirt, your hands finding his place on your hips, emphasizing your defiant stance. You were dressed to impress, or perhaps to confront. Your tight, ripped and slightly flared jeans were typical of the time, a cry of rebellion and style that adhered to your figure. The belt, an accessory that marked your waist, seemed to capture Eddie's attention, who was lost in contemplation of it, taken out of his thoughts by the intensity of your reproaches. Eddie blinked, coming to, and for a moment, he seemed to search for the right words. "It's not what you think," he began, his voice a little lower, a little more serious.

The tension in the air was almost tangible, like electricity before a storm. "Oh, right? So what is it, huh? Excuse yourself," you demanded, your words sharp as the red fingernails that were now pointed at him, a perfect contrast to your small maroon jean jacket. Eddie seemed lost, unable to find the right words. “It's just...that...” his voice trailed off, and with each syllable that trailed off, your frustration grew. Your brow was furrowed, a grimace of disgust was drawn on your face, and without thinking about it, you grabbed him by the cheeks. Your nails, now weapons of your anger, dug lightly into his cheeks, scratched by the shadow of a stubble. Eddie had never seen you like this, with such fierce passion, and that, somehow, seemed to light a different fire in him, a desire that grew with each gesture of your discontent. "Speak up, Eddie! You have no right to leave me like this, with doubts and no answers," you continued, your voice a crescendo of mixed emotions. "After everything that's happened, you avoid me and send messages through others? It's unfair and you know it!" Munson finally raised his gaze, meeting yours. There was something in his eyes, a flash of something that wasn't just surprise or fear of your reaction. It was deeper, a mix of regret and something you didn't dare name. "It's not what you think," he said finally, his voice firm but soft.

Eddie looked at you with eyes that seemed to seek refuge in yours, his voice trembling slightly as he confessed, "It's just that I'm a loser and you mean a lot to me..." The words hung in the air, loaded with raw sincerity. and vulnerable. "I didn't pay attention to you after fucking because I didn't want to be discovered at that moment, otherwise we would be the subject of ridicule." He paused, as if each word cost him a piece of his pride. "I didn't show up to the meeting because I knew I would get hard and it would be weird, which I didn't think you would see very well, so I excused myself to the boys with the excuse that I didn't want to see you." His confession was a labyrinth of emotions, a clumsy attempt to protect something that he himself didn't fully understand. And then, with a look that drifted toward the ground, he added, "And I haven't been able to contact you because my uncle has had problems with his diabetes and the only times I've left the house were to sell, you know, as you can see right now. I swear..." His gestures were limited, restricted by the pressure your fingers exerted on his cheeks.

Hearing him, guilt took over you, you let go of his face and looked at him, this time with an expression that mixed understanding with remorse. Eddie felt the cold on his skin where the warmth of your hand used to be. "No, no, you can leave your hand here, if you want... ..." he teased, attempting a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a forced laugh that desperately sought to relieve the tension of the moment.

Eddie stood up with a slowness that seemed to measure every second, his commanding height creating a shadow over you. You looked up, following the contour of his figure until your eyes met his, half-closed and shining with a mischievous light.

His smile, that familiar curve of his lips, enveloped you in a spell that you didn't want to escape. With a softness that contrasted the roughness of her skin, her hand found your neck, sliding to the back of your neck in a possessive gesture. "Let me clarify that that wasn't just one night, really..." The confession came out of him in a whisper, his voice a thread of vulnerability intertwined with the firmness of his words. For an instant, his gaze averted, as if the emotions he carried inside him sought to escape. But you weren't about to let him walk away from her, not now. Your hand acted of its own volition, drawing his attention back to you, demanding the connection you both knew existed. A knowing smile appeared on his face, a reflection of yours, while a part of him longed for you to repeat the gesture, to maintain that contact that seemed to be the only anchor in the whirlwind of feelings that surrounded you.

The atmosphere around them was a mixture of tension and electricity, as if the air itself was charged with the intensity of their emotions. The forest had become a private sanctuary, the tall and majestic trees formed a natural roof that filtered the sun's rays, creating a play of light and shadows on them. The ground was covered in fallen leaves, which crunched softly under their feet, a reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

The physical contact between them was its own language, a wordless conversation where each touch and each gesture had its own meaning. Eddie's hand on the back of your neck wasn't just a touch; It was an affirmation, a silent promise that what was between you transcended the everyday. His rough skin contrasted with the softness of yours, creating a sensation that made you want to get even closer.

Your hands, although they had been weapons of your anger moments before, now became explorers, tracing the contours of his face, feeling the texture of his skin, the firmness of his jaw. The pressure of your fingers was an echo of the pressure in your chest, a mixture of desire and need for understanding.

Eddie responded to your every touch, his body instinctively reacting to yours. There was a dance in their proximity, one step forward and one step back, as if they were on the edges of an emotional precipice, seeking the perfect balance between confession and reserve.

The boy remained waiting full of impatience, his eyes fixed on you, shining with the expectation of what was to come. It was as if he had cast a spell, and you, responding to that silent call, grabbed onto a strand of his long, dark hair, tugging at it with a playful but determined gesture. In one fluid motion, you pulled him towards you, and your lips met in a kiss that sealed all the unspoken words, a kiss that was a promise and a confession at the same time. Eddie's hand, which until then rested on your neck, began its slow but sure descent, tracing the contour of your collarbone before settling on the curve of your waist. His fingers, strong but careful, caressed the skin exposed by your shirt, exploring every inch with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his gaze and exchange of saliva. It was a caress that spoke of possession, an intimate connection that united you beyond the physical, but right now it was what you were looking for.

The metallic melody of Eddie's headphones, now a persistent hum, becomes the backdrop for a moment that feels suspended in time. The wet whisper of your kisses transforms into a secret language, communicating unspoken desires that only you can understand. Eddie, with a determination that leaves you breathless, he spins you around with gravity-defying skill, leaving you with your back to the bench, where your butt rested on the surface littered with tobacco flakes, adding a rough texture to the scene. You were trapped between that cool surface and Eddie's firm crotch, which pulsed with desire, sending shivers down your spine, which was caressed by Eddie's hand. A shared sigh escaped your lips as you felt the reconnection of that pressure, fueling the erotic tension that intensified with each moment.

Eddie's tongue lasciviously explored from your mouth to your neck, tracing a trail of sensations that made you sway slightly, sliding back onto the picnic table, followed by your neck, giving him just enough room. While Eddie concentrated on his task, he firmly grabbed your sturdy thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the table, causing the money counted earlier to slide on the wet grass on the floor, a detail that added a note of chaos to the scene, increasing the intensity of the moment. Each bill and coin was lost in the undergrowth, as a metaphor for the debauchery and overflowing passion that consumed them.

"I want to fuck you right here. I want to take that stupid belt off you and choke you with it," Eddie said, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, his words reverberating in the tension-laden air. You gasped as you broke the kiss for air, his hot breath brushing against your wet neck, leaving a new electric trail on your skin. His hands, eager and determined, slid down your lower back, searching for the belt that promised to release the pent-up desire.

Eddie ran his hands anxiously down your abdomen, urgently undoing your belt as your eyes were fixed on his desperate expression. Around you, the world seemed to fade away in a swirl of colors and sounds, leaving only room for the electricity that flowed between the two of you. With a quick tug, Eddie undid your belt, making you wobble slightly as he looked at you with a devilish grin, nimbly folding it. The rustling of the leaves in the wind intermingled with the accelerated beating of your hearts, creating an atmosphere full of tension. "What would happen to that eyeliner of yours if I smacked you in the face?" he asked sarcastically, each word ringing with defiant energy. "Would he cum from your tears, or would I be the only one who would?"

Your playful response brought a flicker of desire to Eddie's eyes, which burned brightly as he watched you. "Why don't you see for yourself?" you challenged with an innocent but mischievous look, causing the tension between you to reach a new level.

Eddie obeyed with a malicious smile, giving you a sudden spank on your cheek, causing you to emit a moan of pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. The sound echoed through the air, mixing with the rustle of leaves moving in the nearby breeze. A slight redness appeared at the site of impact, marking your skin with a warm, burning tone, while your breathing quickened, full of anticipation. Meanwhile, the palpable tension between them increased, making each brush of fabric against skin feel more intense. Eddie's cock, imprisoned in her boxers, pulsed with a exquisite sensitivity, as if she were eager to break free and join the game they were both playing.

Eddie, almost instinctively, pressed his erection, imprisoned by his rock jeans, against your groin, eager to free himself. There was a tangible electricity in the surrounding environment, as if nature itself was aware of the burning desire manifesting between you.

“You look like a bitch in heat,” you teased Eddie with a mischievous smile, as your delicate hands slid to his skull-adorned belt buckle, undoing it with deliberate slowness. Each click of the buckle resonated in the air, generating a slight tremor in Eddie, who awaited with anticipation what was about to happen. His erection rubbed against the fabric, causing involuntary movements that did not go unnoticed by you, unleashing a mischievous laugh that escaped your lips, full of complicity.

You released Eddie from his belt, letting him fall nonchalantly behind you as you focused on pulling his pants down enough to show his erection, remaining careful that he could quickly pull them up if someone showed up.

Seeing his covered but noticeable cock, you licked your lips in anticipation, reveling in the sight. Eddie's white boxers were soaked with precum, revealing the level of his arousal. Your gaze fell on his crotch, where his erection was begging to be touched and pleasured. Without further ado, you pulled down his boxers, leaving light marks on his thighs from the rubbing of your nails, which caused his arched cock to release completely, hitting his clothed abdomen with a light sound. The arousal in the air was palpable, and his cock throbbed eagerly, twitching slightly in anticipation of what was to come.

Determinedly, you wrap your hand around Eddie's firm erection, beginning to pump at a slow but steady pace. A content sigh escapes her parted lips as his body tenses at the contact, letting out a barely audible moan that is lost in the air charged with excitement. His trembling hand finds its way to your hair, gripping it firmly as his mouth curves into a mischievous smile. Every movement you make provokes a response in his body, a slight contraction of his muscles, a ragged inhalation that adds to the ambient noise.

The sound of skin rubbing against skin mixes with the rustle of the breeze rustling nearby leaves, creating a symphony of pleasure and anticipation. Your hand continues to move skillfully, gradually quickening the pace, as Eddie's breathing becomes more labored, his moans more audible.

Every time your thumb brushes the sensitive tip of his member, his body shudders involuntarily, and his moans intensify, filling the air with a heady mix of arousal and desire.

With provocative elegance, you slide from the table you were sitting at, moving gracefully until you are on your knees in front of Eddie. From that lower position, you look at him with a look full of desire and eagerness to please him, while a playful smile curves your lips. Leaning forward slightly, you open your mouth in a clear sign of your intentions, indicating your willingness to take his cock in your mouth. Anticipation shines in Eddie's eyes, his breathing becoming more labored as he watches you with a mix of desire and arousal.

Without warning, in a provocative act, you playfully open your mouth, inviting him to immerse himself in the pleasure you offer him. Eddie's hand, which was firmly gripping your hair, pushes you decisively, forcing his cock forcefully into your mouth. You feel the sudden onslaught of his member, causing a strong tremor in his body as he experiences the humidity, heat, softness and tightness of your mouth. The intoxicating sensation of having him inside you awakens a wave of pleasure that runs through every fiber of your being, noticing how those jeans that you considered favorites began to get wet due to the transfer of your panties.

A deep, desire-laden moan escapes Eddie's lips as he pronounces your name between broken breaths. His voice, full of passion and desire, resonates in the air, further fueling the fiery moment. “Ahh... fuck...” he moans your name, revealing the overwhelming effect you have on him. You give yourself fully to the act, letting desire and arousal consume you completely, as you dive deeper into the pleasure of giving Eddie exactly what he craves.

Eddie’s hands grip the sides of your face with palpable determination, like he’s eager to explore every inch of your mouth. He begins to move at a frenetic pace, fucking your mouth with an unbridled passion that leaves you breathless. Little by little, his member reaches the beginning of your throat, causing an intense sensation that makes you shudder. A gag escapes your throat, caused by Eddie's deep intrusion, but he doesn't stop, instead continuing to thrust hard, causing pleasure mixed with slight pain that makes your moans intermingle with his. The feeling of his tip lightly crushing your palate only intensifies the ecstasy shared between the two of you, causing louder, deeper moans from Eddie.

You could feel Eddie getting closer to climax, his ragged breathing and higher-pitched moans indicating he was on the brink of release. However, something else was seeping into your consciousness: close footsteps, a sound that didn't fit the intimate atmosphere you shared with Eddie. Worry began to bubble inside you as you continued to do your duty, but unease took over. The desire to find out who was interrupting this private but at the same time public moment grew with each closer step, but Eddie's firm grip on your face kept you trapped, preventing you from moving away. With concentrated effort, you fought against his hold until you finally managed to free yourself enough to separate yourself from his cock.

You pulled away from Eddie's cock with a sharp movement, feeling his cream slide between your fingers. Your eyes met those of the step holders, two figures who looked at you with a surprise that seemed carved into their faces. "Eddie?" the Sinclair's voice cracked, revealing his bewilderment, while your sister remained at his side, a motionless silhouette in the chaos of the moment. "Sinclair!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the murmur of the forest as you realized he was holding a used and tied condom, a crucial link in the chain of events unfolding before you. The long-haired man's erection, now abandoned by his misfortune, collapsed, and a torrent of almost translucent white liquid spread across your face, hiding your shocked expression.

Eddie's deep moan that followed this echoed through the forest, marking the end of one act and the beginning of another. Eddie, Sinclair, and your sister looked at you, their expressions a mirror of absolute shock. None of the four of you knew how to react, trapped in a moment of mutual transgression, a game of secrets and silences that had been broken by Eddie's cum on your face.

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blairrwaldorfs · 11 hours

Text

Still Love You Anyway

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe just got a new haircut and you have mixed feelings about it.

Author's Note: This was requested by @readergf, so thank you for that! I miss writing Joe, so here's a little something something :)

Wordcount: 1K

Getting home on a Friday afternoon was such a relief for you. You were exhausted for the week, and you were ready to curl up with your nice warm blanket and just watch TV all weekend long. You just hoped Joe also felt the same because you honestly didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere else. The thought of you being in his arms as you exited the tube was the only thing that kept you going. Walking down the street, you watched as the sun set on the horizon, reflecting between the tall skyscrapers. You took a deep breath and pulled out your keys as soon as you arrived at the flat.

The flat was quiet, and you figured maybe Joe wasn’t home yet. Kicking off your shoes, you sighed in relief and flopped yourself on the sofa for a minute and closed your eyes. Then, a buzzing sound and a quiet clatter from down the hall made your eyes fly open.

“Joe?” You called out.

No answer.

Getting up from the sofa, you made your way down the hall and turned the doorknob of the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

“Joe, are you in here?” You asked.

“Oh, you’re home!” Joe exclaimed through the other side. “I didn’t think you would be home early.”

You furrowed your brows, wondering what was going on inside there.

“Yeah, I was tired, so I decided to leave a little early.” You replied. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

It was unusual.

Since when did you both lock the bathroom door? You were comfortable enough in this relationship where you both don’t lock doors anymore. The sound of buzzing started again, and your eyes widened when you realized what it was.

“Joe, what are you doing?” A hint of panic in your voice.

“Almost done, darling.” Joe answered.

After a minute, the buzzing stopped, and the doorknob was unlocked. A loud gasp immediately escaped from you as soon as Joe had swung the bathroom door open. You stood there with wide eyes, your jaw dropped on the floor, and your feet glued to the ground. You couldn’t move or say anything, while Joe gave you an amused smile.

“I’m guessing you don’t like it?” Joe’s smile suddenly fades when you haven’t said a word for the last minute or so.

“No.” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice croaking. “I—”

You clamped a hand over your mouth and slowly walked towards him.

His head was buzzed.

Buzzed!

The crime scene of his perfectly brown curls were scattered all over the bathroom floor. Not that he had his hair long for a while now but still!

The crime!

“Wh…Why?” You asked, blinking repeatedly, and hoping this was just a dream.

“It’s for Warfare, darling.” He shrugged. “It’s for a role. It’ll grow back.”

You watched as he ran his hand on his now buzzed head, and you couldn’t help but mourn over his beautiful brown curls. Not that he didn’t look good. Joe always looked good no matter what his hair was, but the curls!

Oh, how much you would miss running your fingers through them.

Slowly, you reached your hand above his head, and Joe couldn’t help but chuckle. He watched as your shaky hand slowly grazed over his new haircut, and you bit your lower lip trying your best not to make a reaction. You noticed his features were more prominent with this new look of his. His chocolate button eyes looked bigger—beautiful. His cheekbones were more sharp.

“It’s okay.” Joe laughed softly, bending down to clean all the pieces of his hair on the floor. “You can tell me the truth.”

“Not that I don’t like it.” You murmured. “It’s just that… I’m going to miss running my fingers through those curls.”

Throwing the pieces of his hair in the bin, Joe walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It’ll grow back pretty quickly.” Joe reassured you. “And you could tug on my hair as much as you want.”

You chuckled softly, running your hand over his buzzed head again.

“Hm…” You studied him for a moment.

Joe laughed softly, pressing another kiss on your lips. You let out a soft hum as you pulled him closer to your body. You deepened the kiss and let your hands immediately reach up to where his hair was only to be met by his buzzed head.

No hair to tug. No curls to run your fingers through.

This was torture for you.

“This is so unfair.” You groaned softly, pulling away from the kiss.

Joe laughed again, shaking his head as you gave him a small pout. He reeled you in his arms and walked you back to the living room, his soft hands softly caressing your arms.

“How was your day?” He asked.

You flopped yourself on the sofa and said, “Long. Rough. I was ready to just go home. I didn’t expect my boyfriend to be buzz cutting his hair the moment I did.”

Joe let out a laugh as he buried his face on your neck, breathing you in. You could feel the sharp edges of his hair on the line of your jaw tickle you softly. You couldn’t help but laugh and wrapped your arms around him.

“It tickles.” You said.

Joe smiled through your skin and softly rubbed his head against your jawline, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay. Now, you’re like a cat with sharp fur.” You teased, your hand finding his head again. “Although, I’m getting used to this.”

Joe laid his head on your lap as you smiled down at him, softly caressing the sharp edges of his newly hair.

“Be honest, does it look bad?” Joe asked.

“No,” You chuckled softly. “It’s new for me, but you are still beautiful.”

Leaning down, you planted a soft kiss on his lips, making Joe smile through the kiss.

“Still love me?” He asked, his chocolate button eyes soft and deep.

“Always.” You smiled. “No matter what your hair is, I will still love you anyway.”

Sitting up on the sofa, Joe smiled and pulled you in his arms, a soft kiss planted on your hair. You sort of found it funny that he asked you that question. Although the look was new to you, he was still your Joe.

Always. The End.

***********

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annwrites · 14 hours

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exactly what he needs, pt. 4 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | other parts here

— pairing: nate jacob x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: nate & you have breakfast together, made by you. he then takes you grocery shopping, & later in the week, he finally asks you to be his!

— tags: cute lil domestic moments, you wearing nate's jersey, meeting the parents day 1, first kiss

— tw: dollification (mans isn't even trying to hide it anymore, he straight-up is tying bows in your hair now), eating, snooping, it being implied that nate has already thought about one day baby-trapping you if push-comes-to-shove, misogyny (he's so mean to cassie), threatening, f receiving oral, emotional manipulation, possessiveness

— word count: 11,661

— a/n: reader uses pads bc i use pads & we are all about self-inserts around here (i never learned how to use tampons, don't judge me). honestly, idk how nate would feel about pads. like, on the one hand, i can see him as seeing them as more "unsanitary", but also preferring it if reader is still a virgin. tbh, he prob just tries to pretend periods don't exist, & doesn't want to hear about it if you're on yours, apart from a slight heads-up & being informed once everything down there is back to normal.

i hope this doesn't seem like things are moving too fast in reader & nate already getting together, but tbf, nate & cassie had hung out for what? prob at most a couple hrs when fezco beat his ass, & then the boy is lying in the hospital thinking he's in love & wants to have babies with her. i say it's on-par for his character lol.

The next morning after your day together is the first time Nate ever shoots you a text.

A simple Good morning, sweetheart.

You stare at it for around ten minutes, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You type up a reply, then delete it. Then type up another and backspace the entirety of it as well.

Finally, you press send on a simple Good morning. (:

Nate: Any plans for today?

You: Might clean the house a bit, then go grocery shopping.

You watch as three little dots dance on your screen, then suddenly disappear. You then suppose you’ve not supplied an incredibly interesting answer.

You toss your phone down on the bed, deciding to finally get up for the day. It’s nearly fifteen minutes later when you check your texts again and see that Nate replied…ten minutes ago.

Nate: How do you get your groceries home?

You: There’s a store not too far from here. If I don’t have very many, I usually just carry them as I walk. If I have quite a few, sometimes I take the bus.

Speaking of which, you need to check the schedule for it today and plan accordingly. That is, until Nate replies.

Nate: I can drive you there and back. I don’t mind.

You begin to type, telling him that’s completely unnecessary, but you’re not fast enough.

A text from him pops up: omw

You throw yourself back on your bed, groaning. You’ve just woken up.

You hadn’t planned to go to the store for perhaps a few more hours. You want to at least wake up first. Eat something, then clean. Even if the house is already essentially spotless, but you have a cleaning schedule you try to adhere to to keep it that way. And to give yourself something to do on the weekends in your spare time.

Which is, apart from tutoring, all you really have.

You decide to just stay in your PJs—a pair of soft blue shorts with clouds on them and a white t-shirt.

You’ve already washed your face and brushed your teeth, as well as your hair—which is now in a bun atop your head.

You make your bed, opening your curtains, letting the morning sunshine into your room before you go to the living room and flip the lock on the door to let Nate in.

You then head to the kitchen to decide on what to make for breakfast. You’re torn between eggs and bacon, or waffles, with perhaps a small side of French toast, when you hear a truck roar into your driveway.

You’re torn from your debating over breakfast by a knock on the door.

“It’s open!”

Nate enters the house, slipping off his shoes, closing the door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call softly.

He comes to stand in the entryway. “Want me to give you a few while you get ready?”

He surely hopes you’re not the type who goes to the store in her pajamas, at least.

You turn around to look at him, leaning back against the counter behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Actually, I was planning on going later this afternoon. After cleaning. And eating… I haven’t had breakfast yet,” you say sheepishly.

“Shit,” he hangs his head for a moment, then looks at you again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your plans for the day. I just didn’t have anything to do this morning, so I thought I’d run over and help you out.”

You shake your head. “It’s ok. I appreciate it. You don’t have to stay if you have somewhere else you need to be.”

“I don’t. Not until this evening, at least.”

His dipshit dad wants everyone to have a family dinner together, while Nate wants to do anything else.

Like be here with you.

“Have you eaten yet?”

He has—a breakfast burrito maybe an hour ago. “No, do you want to go somewhere and get breakfast?”

“I could make us something instead?” You turn back around, opening the fridge again. “Any requests?”

He’s quiet for a moment, just taking you and this moment both in. You, still in your pajamas, having just rolled out of bed a little while ago, standing in the kitchen in the early-morning light, offering to cook for him. It’s all so…domestic. And a warm feeling forms in his chest at it—imaging this as his home with you. Imagining you’re both married and your kids are still asleep in the other room.

You glance back to him.

He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never done—had this before.”

“What?”

“My-” he stops himself before he can say ‘girlfriend’. “A girl cooking for me.”

Your brows furrow. “Really? Neither Cassie or Maddy ever did?”

He chuckles. “I honestly don’t think of either of them know how.”

“That’s sad,” you state simply, before turning back around. “So, do you want bacon and eggs, or waffles, pancakes…I can do French toast?”

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He likes that you know how to make so many things. That you want to do so for him. He’d chosen right with you.

You turn around yet again. “You’re my guest, so you get to pick.”

He smirks, shrugging. “Bacon and eggs is fine with me.”

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled works.”

You nod, then start pulling out cookware.

Nate had stood to the side, watching as you worked, occasionally sipping on a mug of black coffee—you’d put some on just after having gotten up. He’d asked more than once if you wanted help as he watched you flit about the kitchen, but you’d only smiled and shook your head.

Finally, once breakfast is ready, you make the both of you a plate and carry them into the dining room, sitting his plate on one side of the table and yours on the other.

You take your seat before he can bother pulling it out for you. He tries not to let it irk him. He tells himself it’s because it’s a habit, since you’re in your own home. You’re not used to being catered to. But neither is he.

Thankfully, Nate had gone for a run after eating earlier, so he’s able to clean his plate. He doesn’t want your feelings hurt—for you to feel insulted—by him not eating every last bite. And it had been rather good, actually.

“You’re a good cook.”

You look up to him, beaming. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. Do you want anything else?”

He leans back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can fit anymore.”

You nod, standing, taking both your plates into the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher.

You return to the dining room and remain silent as Nate types a message out on his phone, looking up to you as he tucks it back into his pocket.

“I’ll get dressed and then we can head out.”

He stands. “It’s warm out.”

You smile. “Thanks for the forecast.”

He smirks. “You could—if you want to—wear the skirt and top I bought you.”

You’d hung everything up to dry last night and had truthfully forgotten about all of it until his just-now reminding you.

“Unless you don’t like them?”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I just…I wish you had asked me first.”

“Would you have let me get them for you if I had?”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “Probably not.”

“Then I made the right decision to make it a surprise.”

He heads in the direction of your bedroom, then, and you trail after him. “I just don’t understand why.”

You feel stupid, speaking to the back of his head.

He comes to sit in the swing-chair in the corner of your room. “Why what?”

“Why you bought me everything you did. I looked up the necklace, how much it costs…”

He’s unphased by it, knowing he’d spent well over a grand on you yesterday. But in truth, it hadn’t been nearly the amount he’d wanted to spend.

He'd wanted—more than anything—to take you into a lingerie store and blow a ton of cash on you there, watching you try on everything he asked you to. But he knew better. For now, at least.

“So I wanted to get you a few nice things. You act like it’s some sort of terrible thing for me to have done.”

You sit on the corner of your bed, facing him. “I’m very grateful. For all of it. I just…I hope you don’t think you need to buy my friendship, Nate. I’m not going anywhere.”

It has nothing to do with friendship. But he can’t tell you just how much it turns him on: spoiling you, buying you expensive things, the idea of you being covered in him—from shoes, to clothes, to jewelry, to perfume and more. It gets him off—makes getting off easier, in truth. Until he has your body to do that with, that is, at least.

He leans forward. “I’m glad to hear that. But you don’t have to worry—I never thought I did.”

He glances to your closet. “Do you want to get dressed?”

“I should probably check to make sure everything is dry. I hung everything up last night.”

You leave your bedroom, heading in the direction of the laundry room.

Meanwhile, Nate stands, finally having a moment alone in your room. He wrenches open the drawer on your bedside table and is met with a couple remotes, a book, a few hair ties, a charging cable…nothing of interest. So he closes it.

Heart pounding, he peeks out your bedroom door—you’re nowhere to be seen—and he then opens the top drawer of your dresser next. Ever-organized, your panties are all in individual cubbies—all cotton, some solid colors, others with patterns printed across them, like small flowers and stars. He picks up a bra. White, with a bit of lace, a small bow in the front, another sage-green. Everything utterly virginal. He digs, but finds not one sex toy.

Perhaps you have them elsewhere.

He jumps when he hears a door close. He steps into the hall a moment and sees the bathroom door is now shut.

He returns to your room, getting on the floor and looking under your bed, where there’s only a couple vacuum-sealed bags full of clothes. He then quietly opens your closet. On the top shelf are a few boxes. He pulls down a shoe box, which, unsurprisingly, has a pair of brand new tennis shoes inside. He puts it back, pulling down another.

And it’s full of old Polaroids. They’re all from when you were younger. You and your dad, another of the two of you, a photo of a butterfly, another of a dog looking up at the camera, and he nearly drops the box when he finds a picture of the two of you. The pair of you can’t be more than six or seven-years-old, both of you smiling toothy grins up at the camera.

He flips it over. Written in faded blue ink on the back, it reads “Nate + Y/N ‘05”. He pockets the picture, putting the lid back on the box and setting it back in your closet.

He stops snooping and sits back in his previous seat, unable to remember the picture ever having been taken. He wonders if you do.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Nate is still sitting in the corner of your room, his head leaned back and eyes closed, hands folded in his lap.

You silently sit on the edge of your bed, folding your legs over one another, draping your new pink skirt over them. You don't want to wake him, so just as you begin to consider changing back, closing your door and cleaning the house while he rests, he slowly opens his eyes.

"If you'd like to take a nap, you can."

He shakes his head, looking you over. You look perfect. For the most part. "Don't want to wear your necklace today?"

You glance to the robin's-egg colored box on top of your dresser. In truth, you're a bit paranoid about wearing something so expensive. What if the chain breaks and by the time you realize, it's long-gone?

You then look back to him, watching as he stands, opens the small box, then removes the necklace inside.

He comes to sit down behind you, slipping the chain around your neck, fastening it into place.

He then begins to tug the hairband from your ponytail.

You half-turn your head back toward him. "What're you-"

"Do you mind if I do your hair for you?"

You're starting to wonder if Nate has some hidden interest in hair-styling.

"I...I guess not."

He slips your hairband free, it coming to rest on his wrist along with the one he'd taken from you yesterday.

You sit there silently, enjoying the feeling of someone else's fingers in your hair once again, your cheeks growing warm as you feel him pull one side of your hair into a pigtail—something you're not quite sure about, but you decide to only make a judgement once he's finished.

He then does the same with the other side, smoothing some hair down your back, before gripping both your upper arms. "Done."

You stand, walking over to the mirror set atop your dresser and expecting the half-up, half-down style. One pigtail on either side, the rest of your hair against your back.

"I think you look really pretty like that," he says from the bed behind you.

Who knew the star-quarterback had hidden hair-dressing talents.

You turn back around to him. "So when do I get to do your hair?"

He raises a brow.

"I could put clips and bows and ribbons-"

"Do you have ribbons?"

He...he can't seriously want you to put one in his hair...

"Yes."

He stands. "Where?"

"In the bathroom, the second drawer below the sink."

He leaves you standing there as he goes to rifle through them, returning a moment later with two that match the color of your skirt.

"Nate-"

"Turn around."

You're not sure that you appreciate his demanding tone, but do as he says nevertheless.

Once you have bows tied around either pigtail, Nate puts his hand against the small of your back. "Let's head out."

When the two of you arrive at the store, you go to get out, until Nate stops you by grabbing your left hand. "Wait for me to get it."

You sit back in your seat and wait for him to come around to your side. Once the door is open, you speak. "You don't have to come in with me if you'd rather wait here. I know grocery shopping, well, shopping in general, can be tedious."

He shrugs. "I don't mind."

He takes your hand, helping you down and shuts the door, leading you inside.

Nate stays close to your side as you toss various items into your cart—paying acute attention to each thing you do. You don't get a terrible amount of junk food, but he wishes you'd forgo the cereal. He'd already told you from here on out he'd be bringing you breakfast every morning.

He studies what kind of conditioner you use, what kind of lady razor, even your morning facial-wash. He briefly daydreams about getting you ready for the day—the detailed process he would go through to make you look like his own perfect living doll.

It's when you're in the frozen foods aisle that you briefly pause as he pretends to look over the frozen pizzas, when he's actually watching you. Watching you stare at a couple across the way, giggling and kissing each other, the girl's hand resting over her swollen belly, that is.

Hurt flashes across your features and he briefly grows angry, wondering if it's jealousy—if you know the man.

He steps over to you. "Do you know them?"

You jump in surprise at his presence, having been lost in your thoughts. You shake your head, throwing a bag of frozen vegetables in the cart. "No." You're quiet for a moment. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

You look at the happy pair again. "What that must feel like."

He places his palm against the small of your back, refusing to remove it for the rest of the shopping trip.

Nate of course takes it upon himself to not only load every single grocery bag into the bed of his truck, but also unloading and bringing every one into the kitchen once you're home. He simply watches from a kitchen island stool as you put them away.

He eventually excuses himself to your bathroom, deciding to finally cross the boundary of going through your medicine cabinet.

He locks the door, turning the faucet on as he first goes through the cabinet under your sink first. Some toilet paper, a box of pads, some pantiliners, cotton balls, cotton pads—basic bathroom paraphernalia.

He then starts pulling open drawers. One he's already familiar with, it's filled with small baskets which hold elastics, hair bands, bows, clips, headbands and the like. Another houses hot-tools: a curling iron, which looks barely-used, a straightener, which has clearly been well-loved—the company name all but rubbed off of it, even an old crimping iron, and a blow-dryer.

He moves onto the last drawer, which just has extra toothpaste, toothbrushes, some lotion, triple antibiotic, extra shaving gel, and some other odds-and-ends.

Finally, he opens the medicine cabinet, curious if you're on birth control. If so, that will be coming to a stop immediately. Not only does he hate the horrid list of side effects that come with it, but once the two of you start fucking, he wants to be in complete control of your reproductive options.

Needs to be if... Well, if he eventually decides he can't live without you and has to resort to drastic options to keep the two of you permanently connected for the rest of your lives, he'll have that option.

But all he finds is some Tylenol, Advil, expired allergy pills, an old prescription bottle with your dad's name on it, a bottle of mouthwash, a small cup of bobby pins, some q-tips, and a couple—of course—clean makeup brushes, a few other items here and there.

He quickly searches the shower and just finds a few bottles of various kinds of soap.

Finally, he flushes the toilet, turns the water off, and comes to join you in the kitchen.

Nate had left not longer after you'd finished cleaning the house, him offering to help, but you telling him you could never ask a guest to do such a thing, so he'd instead sat on the couch, idly watching football, fantasizing once again about you being his perfect little housewife. Cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping for him, allowing him to dress you up and show you off.

It's in the moment as he watches you humming to yourself as you dust off the mantle that he decides this Thursday you'll finally be his.

Nate continues on with the studying ruse to continue spending one-on-one time with you.

Monday, you'd done exactly as he'd asked: you'd worn the white dress, a pair of flats with it even, your new necklace, a hint of blush, and you'd even curled your hair, which had made him hard near-instantly.

It had taken everything in him not to hold your hand as the two of you walked into school. As soon as he spotted Lexi—the ridiculous look on her face as she watched the two of you—he pulled you in the other direction before you could see her yourself, seating you with him and his friends. When you had brought up going to find Lexi, he'd merely told you he thought it might be nice for you to meet some new people that morning.

He knew by their expressions that his friends had wanted to say something—anything about you—perhaps throw around some vulgar jokes, but the death-glare he greeted them with instead kept them talking about football and some party that had gone on this last weekend, which he'd been unaware of, too concerned with filling his time with you.

As the week went on, the two of you began to text more and more. You woke up everyday to him and went to sleep to messages from him. He'd even called you once, and the two of you chatted for almost an hour about everything and nothing. He would've been content to stay up all night listening to your voice, until you had gotten off the phone, telling him you were going to sleep and you would see him in the morning.

You had no idea he was outside of your house that night, watching your bedside lamp flicker off.

Thursday after school, once the two of you are finished studying, Nate finally takes the plunge, praying to fucking God he gets what he's been dying to have for the last two weeks.

He pulls out his extra jersey from his bookbag, handing it to you.

You look up to him, confused.

"I thought you could wear it tomorrow to school, and the game that night."

You look down at it, the metallic number '18' on the front, then back up to him once more. "Isn't...isn't wearing a player's jersey to school something girlfriends usually do?"

He scoots the least bit closer to you, his legs on either side of your chair. He reaches up, gently gripping the back of your neck, light enough that it seems just a sweet gesture, but he knows what he means it as: him touching what is about to belong to him.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

You blink once, twice. "What?"

He takes one of your hands in his free one. "Listen, the last few weeks," even if he knows it's only been two, but so little time together sounds...not the best out loud, "spending time with you has been a welcome change in my life. I know it started out as just tutoring, and we can keep doing that, of course. But, Y/N, I really, really like you. Being around you is just...so fucking easy. You're easy to talk to, to hang out with, to text with. And you're incredibly beautiful. And kind. And smart. Honestly, I could go on for the next hour, if not longer, about all your admirable qualities. Suffice to say that I'm very-much interested in being with you. And if you feel the same way that I do, then maybe we can give this a shot."

A strange, uneasy feeling comes over you. You tell yourself it's because you've never been asked out before. Never had someone show such blatant interest in you before like this. You're used to being alone, so of course the idea of being with someone—anyone—but especially Nate Jacobs, star football player, his dad's name being a household name in East Highland, and the guy every girl at school seems to want—seems unthinkable.

"I...I didn't think I was your type."

So does that mean you have thought about it? Being with him?

He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I didn't think so either. But that's precisely why I think you're so good for me. You're not attention-seeking. Dating girls like that in the past has caused me nothing but trouble. You're not superficial. You care about shit—see things—in ways others just don't. Not at our age, at least. Not at our school. You're mature, responsible, know how to take care of yourself..."

He trails off, wanting you to reply. To just say yes. To give yourself to him.

"I don't know about this..."

His grip on your hand tightens just the smallest bit. "What's your concern?"

"How do I know you're not rebounding, from Cassie or Maddy?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not. I should've been done with Maddy a long time ago for the way she treated me. What she did at McKay's...I can never forgive that. And Cassie was a mistake from the first moment. We had both been drinking. And I just...I wasn't thinking clearly. But I am now. And I know what I want."

You look down to your lap. "And what if I screw things up? I've never dated someone before. I'd have no idea what to even do."

"Nothing here has to change. Not really. Us being together just means spending more time together." He fights back a smirk. "And me finally getting to kiss you."

Your head jerks up.

"Once you're ready," he adds on, knowing you'll be ready when he deems you so.

"And what if I'm just one more person to hurt or let you down?"

He feels like with that one question alone—you being so concerned for his wellbeing—he falls in love with you.

He releases your neck, now cupping your cheek. "You won't be. Do you think I haven't thought the same thing? You were abandoned by your mom. Your dad, too, essentially. The last thing I want is to be one more person to leave you. So I don't plan to.

"Listen, I'm not saying everything is going to be like a picture-perfect fairytale all the time, but I think so long as we're both happy, give each other our all, and consistently work at what we have, then we'll both be happy.

"Just in the time we've spent together, I've already opened up more to you alone than I have to anyone else in I can't tell you how long. I trust you."

He brushes the pad of his thumb over your lower lip and you want to cry from how gentle and sweet he's being—has been—with you.

Finally, you resign yourself to the likely fate of your first heartbreak.

"Okay."

His brows raise. "Yeah?"

You nod, a small smile on your face, your eyes filling with tears of joy. "Yes."

He stands, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck before spinning you around. "Oh, baby, I am going to make you so fucking happy."

You look down at him, and you believe it.

When you wake the next morning, you only get so far as brushing your teeth and washing your face when you hear a truck outside.

Still half-asleep, you wander to the front door and look through the peephole to see Nate coming up to it, one of his arms behind his back. You briefly wonder if you'd overslept as you flip the lock and open the door.

He comes in, pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. "Morning, angel."

You look up to him with sleepy eyes. "Am I running late?"

He smirks, thinking of the things he'd love to do with you while you're still half-asleep like this. It'd be too all easy to take control in bed.

He shakes his head. "No, I'm early," he says, pulling a bouquet of a dozen white roses out from behind his back.

You gasp lightly, taking them from him. "They're beautiful." You look up to him. "You didn't have to bring me flowers now that we're together."

It feels oddly strange to say.

He presses another kiss to your forehead. "I wanted to. It's something I want to do for you, bring my girlfriend flowers, take her on dates," he shuts the door behind him, backing you up against the wall, the flowers clutched against your chest as he places his palms on either side of you. "I hope you know I intend to spoil you fucking rotten."

Your eyes widen. "Oh."

He smirks. "C'mon, let's go get you ready."

Once you've put your flowers in a glass vase near a window in the kitchen, Nate takes your hand, leading you into the bathroom.

"Sit," he says before stopping himself, nearly opening the drawer to your straightener. He doesn't need you knowing he'd been snooping. "Straightener?"

"Uh...top drawer," you reply, seating yourself on the toilet lid

He retrieves the device, plugging it in.

As it heats up, he grabs your hairbrush from atop the sink and comes to stand behind you, running the bristles through your hair.

"You...you don't have to do my hair."

"I want to."

In truth, he wants to shave and moisturize your legs as well, then dress you in his jersey—picking out a bra and panties, too, before doing your makeup.

"Did you do this for Maddy and Cassie as well?"

He'd bought Maddy clothes, but she would've never let him dress her. Would've most-likely mocked him had he so much as given her a ponytail. Cassie was obviously a different story. "No. And we don't have to talk about them anymore. They're in the past now."

You fidget nervously with your hands. "Isn't that important—addressing our pasts to get to know one another better?"

Once your hair is free of tangles, he sets the brush down on top of the toilet tank. He then comes to stand in front of you, kneeling down to make the two of you level. "It is, but I don't want you to worry about either of them. You're the best thing for me now."

He sprays some heat-protectant on your hair before beginning to straighten it.

Nate gives you some privacy as you go over your legs with a razor one more time before getting dressed, even if you'd shaved the night previous. When you're finished, you come to stand in front of the mirror, and you simply stare.

Your hair is like it was the other day when you went grocery shopping, only, instead of ribbons on either side, he'd used hair bands that have two small balls on them that match the color of the numbering on his jersey. He'd actually done surprisingly well in doing your hair.

When you step out of the bathroom, he's waiting for you in your bedroom, his extra jersey, which you'd had hung up in your closet, now resting on your bed.

You nearly want to pinch yourself, everything seems so unreal in this moment.

He picks up the blush he'd gotten you, along with a makeup brush from your hardly-ever-used vanity and he dips it into the fine powder before gripping your chin, swiping the brush over the apples of both of your cheeks once, then twice.

You giggle nervously. "I'm starting to feel like a living-doll or something."

He smirks, snapping the compact shut, setting the materials back where they go. "I just like taking care of you."

He picks up your diamond Tiffany necklace, one more sign of his ownership over you, and clasps it around your neck.

He nods down to the jersey. "I'll let you get dressed."

Nate fights back a raging erection every mile to school. Here you sit, completely fucking covered in him, in the passenger seat of his truck. He'd done your hair, your makeup, bought the piece of jewelry you're now wearing, and his jersey hangs from your frame like a dress—he'd also picked out the white pair of tennis shoes from your closet that you're now wearing. Even eating a muffin he'd stopped to pick up for you.

He wants to pull over in a secluded spot somewhere and claim your virginity—one more part of you that will now belong to him—but he tells himself that will come soon enough.

If his plan works, you'll be in his bed, a whimpering, crying, whining, begging mess under him, sooner rather than later.

Your pussy will be his to fuck whenever and however he pleases.

He'll finally be back to no longer having to use his hand.

His fucked-up sexual fantasies of the two of you will finally get to come true

When Nate pulls into the lot, he 'accidentally' steps on one of your shoelaces after you've gotten out of the truck. He lifts you back up into your seat, setting your foot atop his knee—just like at the bowling alley—and people watch from their cars as he ties your shoe for you.

Finally, he takes your hand, firmly twining your fingers together, before locking his vehicle behind the two of you, as you walk into school together.

And you feel yourself begin to sweat nervously with every pair of eyes that turn your way, some people clearly not thinking much of it—bless those few—while others react with shocked expressions, whispering amongst themselves, eyeing you up and down, making you want to crawl inside a hole.

You look up to Nate and he looks nothing short of confident and unbothered.

You then glance over to Lexi's table and Lexi's expression somehow looks...sad? Disappointed, maybe?

Cassie, however, is shaking she's so enraged.

You quickly balk and look away from her before sitting down beside Nate, thankful you had worn a pair of black bicycle shorts under his jersey.

You drown out Nate's football friends chatting with him about tonight's game as he places his hand on your knee, then slowly moves it higher, then higher, until it's on the middle of your thigh.

You can feel your face growing warm out of mortification. What if someone sees? Thinks that the two of you are...well, already doing that.

You're torn from worrisome thoughts, thinking perhaps you'd made a mistake—you're not sure exactly what choice to consider as much—by Nate squeezing your leg.

You blink up at him. "What?"

He nods toward his friend. "He asked you a question."

You look at the young man across the table, who's maybe a year younger than the both of you, with black hair and hazel eyes, braces still on his teeth.

"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear you."

"I asked if you were going to be at the game tonight, since you're Nate's new girl."

"Of course she is," Nate replies for you. "She'll be in the stands cheering us onto victory. Right, baby?"

You give him a nervous smile, then nod.

He's pleased with your agreeable response.

When you get into second period, Cassie is already there, in her seat, which is just behind and diagonal to yours. You don't look at her as you lie your books on your desk, afraid to meet her eyes.

Then you hear her whisper "bitch" as you take your seat.

You slowly turn back to look at her, filled with hurt at the cruel name.

She gives you a nasty look. "What are you looking at?" She asks in a snide tone.

You turn back around without another word, fighting back tears for the rest of class, unable to think of anything else but how she'd always been so nice to you, and now despises you.

Once class is over, you go out to your locker, so distracted that you don't see Nate leaning against the one next to it with a smile meant only for you.

A smile that immediately disappears when he sees the sullen look on your face, and your bloodshot eyes.

You fumble with your lock twice before finally getting your locker open.

"What's wrong?"

You nearly jump at the sound of his voice.

You shake your head, setting your books back on their shelves with shaking hands. "N-nothing."

He leans down closer to you and speaks gently, quietly. "Something happened. Tell me."

He isn't going to take no for an answer.

You shake your head and he feels his fuse growing shorter. "Did someone say something to you?"

You look up to him. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

He delicately laces his fingers through your hair. "You won't. Just tell me what happened, sweetheart."

You shift from one foot to the other, clutching one of your textbooks to your chest. "Cassie. She-"

His tone grows hard. "What did she do?"

"When I got into class she called me a bitch. I wasn't...I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. I turned around to look at her and she just...she had such a mean look on her face and asked me what I was looking at, so I just turned around."

He clenches his jaw so hard he's sure it will break. If that stupid whore ruins what he'd just gotten to finally happen with you—making you his—he'll fucking kill her. Actually kill her.

He wants to make a scene right in the middle of the hallway, wants to show you just how far he's willing to go protect you, even just your feelings, but he knows it will only frighten you away. Showing his devotion to you in extreme measures is something that will have to come in time.

He presses a firm kiss to your forehead, staring down Cassie across the way, who's watching the both of you with a devastated look on her face. He then looks down at you, lifting your chin until your eyes are looking into his own. "Just ignore her. She's jealous. That's all it is. Eventually she'll get over it and move onto her next flavor-of-the-month."

You nod, grabbing the rest of your things for third period.

He smiles down at you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to run to the restroom first."

You nod, heading to class.

Once you're out of sight, he makes a b-line for Cassie.

And the dumb bitch is stupid enough to actually smile at him.

When he reaches her, he slams her locker shut with one hand—causing her to jump—keeping it firmly in place against it as he stares her down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She shakes some hair off of her shoulder, looking up to him, back straight, eyes pensive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's complete fucking bull. Y/N told me what happened in second period." He lowers his voice so only she can hear. "Let's get one thing straight, you desperate whore, if you screw this up for me, you won't like what happens to you. You have no idea the things I'm capable of—the lengths I'm willing to go to—when someone tries to destroy my life or take someone I love away from me."

She flinches at that—him admitting it—his feelings for you. And after such a short time...

"We had our fun, now I'm done with you, just like the other half of the male student population here. The fuck did you really think was going to happen with us? Did you think we'd...what? Get married, have kids, and live in a cul-de-sac in some fantasy where you're actually a good person that any man would deem worthy of marriage? I got exactly what I wanted and threw your ass to the curb when I got bored and you started acting fucking psychotic."

He points his finger at her face and she shrinks back against a locker, tears stinging her eyes. "Stay the fuck away from me, and even further away from Y/N. If I find out you've said another word—so much as come near her... Just try me, Cass."

With that, he steps away, heading to third period.

After school, Nate drops you off, promising he'll be back that evening to pick you up before the game, and you give him a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves.

Once you're alone, for some reason, you feel like you can finally breathe. Like some weight had been bearing down on your chest all day and has suddenly lifted.

You blame it on the crowded halls and your noisy classmates.

You leave your hair the way it is, but change into something more comfortable before finding something to eat and sitting down to do homework.

In the middle of finishing your math homework, you begin to think of what had happened with Cassie. It had hurt your feelings, but you aren't angry. If anything, you feel sad on her behalf. While she was, of course, partly to blame, she'd still lost her best friend and boyfriend both, as well as earning herself an even worse reputation around school. You tell yourself the anger isn't necessarily directed at you. That's she's just lashing out in general due to being hurt and alone, and you're an easy target.

You're not sure trying to make nice with her is a good idea, however.

Your phone buzzes, ripping you away from your worries about Maddy trying to come after you next, even if she seems to have far less interest in you and Nate—minus that day in the parking lot—when you check it. You see that it's from Nate.

Nate: Be by around 6 to pick you up.

You: See you then. (:

Nate: Make sure to wear my jersey. 🏈

You grin at his finally using emojis.

You: I will. ❤️

You're left with a little over two hours to yourself before he'll be there to pick you up again. So you take another shower, knowing you sweated a bit more than usual today, then lie back on your bed and try to distract yourself with a movie.

Shortly before six, you dress in Nate's jersey again, and a fresh pair of panties and bicycle shorts before going out to sit on the swing in front of your house to wait for him.

You can't help but smile when he pulls up, butterflies in your stomach.

He comes around, opening the passenger door to the truck. Once you're seated, before you can buckle yourself, he does so for you.

You don't manage to say anything, such as telling him that him doing that really isn't necessary, before he shuts the door.

Nate rolls down the windows, blasting upbeat rap music on the way back to the school. You smile, thinking he looks cute when he's excited. He doesn't seem to exhibit that emotion a lot.

Then again, apart from winning at bowling, neither do you.

Perhaps the both of you are too serious for your age.

You lean back, a smile on your face, and he rests his hand on your upper thigh. You tell yourself you're fine with him touching you there.

That it doesn't make you uncomfortable.

That he's just trying to be a sweet boyfriend.

Once the two of you pull in, the parking lot is only sparingly filled. But the game also doesn't start until after seven.

Once Nate has helped you out of the truck, disliking that you'd already unbuckled yourself before he got a chance to, he takes your hand in his—his duffle bag slung over his other shoulder—as he heads in the direction of the field house. One you're around the backside of the school, he drops his bag on the ground, turning back to you.

He cups your cheek in his large palm. "Can I get a kiss for good luck?"

You hesitate for a moment. Then, "Yes," you say with a shy smile.

He smiles down at you in return before pressing you up against the brick building, then lowering his lips to yours.

He fights back a moan at finally getting to be this: your first kiss. The first one to taste you. The only person to ever have this intimate moment with you.

He opens your mouth with his, gently flicking his tongue against your own and he feels your body stiffen, until he does it again and you relax.

He stays like that for a good few minutes, his tongue tasting you, the sun beating down on his back as his form shadows your own, both your eyes closed as you, after seventeen years, finally find out what it's like to be kissed.

And it's slow and gentle and passionate. And you feel heat pool between your thighs.

You whimper against his lips and his cock hardens at the sound.

He pulls back just the least bit, his lips hovering over your own, which are now red, a bit swollen. "What was that?"

"I dunno," you say, gripping his t-shirt, pulling him back down to you.

He grows impossibly harder at the fact you want more.

He easily obliges.

He wants to move his lips down to your neck, wants to give you a hicky before you go sit on the bleachers for the game, but doesn't.

Finally, he pulls away, both your breathing labored. "Alright, I have to go get ready, my little good-luck charm."

You laugh at that.

He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before reaching down and grabbing his bag.

"Oh," he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "This is for your ticket." He hands you a five dollar bill. "And this is incase you want anything from the concessions."

He hands you a fifty and your eyes widen.

"I don't think a pretzel costs that much, Nate."

He shrugs. "Maybe you'll want a souvenir of your first game."

You stand on your tiptoes and he smirks, leaning down again as you wrap your arms around his neck. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, before whispering in his ear. "Good luck. And thank you."

He kisses your lips again before stepping away. "I'll look for you in the bleachers."

He begins to walk backwards toward the field house.

"I'll be there cheering you on."

He smiles at the image of that. "Maybe we can do something after."

You nod. "Good luck!"

Surprisingly, when you go to sit on the bleachers, Cassie, who's gathered with the rest of the cheerleaders, doesn't look back at you but once, shortly after you first sit down. It'd only been a glance, and then her completely ignoring you, which you're beyond okay with.

You'd bought yourself a water before finding a seat, the day still hot with the sun out, even if it's beginning to slowly set.

A sense of thrill fills you when the players run onto the field, your eyes immediately honing in on number eighteen.

You feel your cheeks grow impossibly warmer when you remember your kiss from earlier.

You watch as the players gather around their coach, Nate removing his helmet as they—you assume—strategize. He glances up to you and gives you a wink and you smile in return, blowing him a kiss.

Once they break, Nate pretends to catch it, pressing it to his chest before putting his helmet back on.

You can't help but admire him in his uniform.

You've never liked sports before tonight. But with Nate now being your boyfriend and out there on the field, you're completely engrossed. You sit on the edge of your seat the entire game, just watching him running this way and that across the field, blushing when you think about the two of you wearing matching jerseys.

And every time he scores a touchdown, which turns out to be a lot, you hop up from your seat, clapping and smiling, feeling proud of him.

In all honesty, seeing him plowing through the other players and tackling and just...playing the game...actually turns you on a little. Okay, perhaps a bit more than a little. It just makes him look so strong.

You wonder what he would think of that fact.

Once the game is over, the Blackhawks having unsurprisingly won, Nate removes his helmet, yelling and laughing in victory with the rest of his teammates. You smile, glad to see him happy.

He looks into the stands, searching for you and finds you in the same spot you've been in all night.

He waves his hand for you to come down and you do, coming to stand on the other side of the fence from him.

He rests his forearms atop it. "So, what did you think?"

You grip a few of his fingers. "I had fun, which I didn't expect." You giggle to yourself.

"What?" He asks with a smirk.

You shake your head.

"Well, now you have to tell me."

You look up at him from under your lashes and he can already tell he's going to fucking love whatever is about to come out of that pretty little mouth.

"You look really good in your uniform."

He leans forward. "Oh, yeah?"

You nod. "Mhm."

He reaches forward, gripping the one you're wearing, bringing you a bit closer to him. "So do you."

You kiss then, the taste of him now mixed with sweat and grass and fresh air.

He pulls away. "Climb over here."

Watch me fall or hurt myself, you think as you wedge your tennis shoe in the chain-link fence. Once you're halfway up, Nate lifts you the rest of the way over, and you wrap your legs around his middle, running your fingers through his slick hair.

"Sorry, I'm all sweaty."

You shake your head. "I don't mind," you say before kissing him.

You wait for Nate outside of the field house, leaned back against the red brick stones, staring up in the millions of stars littering the night sky, feeling so completely happy for the first time in you're not sure how long.

Once players begin to file out, you watch for Nate to be among them. When he exits, he glances in your direction, coming over to stand in front of you, offering you his hand. "Ready?"

You nod.

Once you're in his truck, he stands in the passenger side doorway, one of his arms resting against the top of the truck, his other hand against your left calf.

"I've had a really great night, and I don't really want to just drop you off at home, and then it ends."

You just look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"If I ask you to stay the night at my place, will you?"

You shift in your seat. "Doing...doing what?"

"Just sleeping," he states. "Maybe we can watch a movie in bed or something."

You think about it for a moment, not sure you're comfortable with moving this quickly.

"What about your parents?"

"What about 'em?"

"They won't mind you bringing a girl home late at night?"

He shakes his head. "I mind my business and they mind theirs. If I want to invite someone over, they're not going to tell me no."

You think that's a very unconventional way to parent, especially when it comes to him having a girl in his room—in his bed.

"You don't think it's a little early for me to be spending the night?" You ask gently, using a kind tone to try and prevent hurting his feelings.

He's quiet for a moment, now looking away from you. "I'm sorry. I guess I got too excited to spend more time with you tonight. It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. Just forget I did."

He goes to pull away and you suddenly feel bad. You'd hurt his feeling anyway. Something you had told him you didn't want to do just yesterday.

You quickly grab his hand. "No, I'm sorry. I just...I don't-" you scramble for some excuse that isn't 'this makes me uncomfortable'. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me."

He softens, stepping closer to you again, his hand sliding up your thigh. "Like what?"

You relax at the tension quickly dissipating. "Like..." you bite your lip. "Like I'm easy. Or...or a slut. Or-"

That same hand comes up to caress your cheek. "Baby, you'd never even had your first kiss before tonight. I could never think that about you. You're probably the most innocent girl—person, even—at this school. And like I said, we'll only be sleeping."

You look at him for a moment. "I don't have a change of clothes. Or a toothbrush or-"

"You can just wear something of mine. And we have extras, I'll just give you one."

Finally, you cave. "Ok."

He gives you a gentle smile. "Ok."

When you and Nate pull up to his house, you suddenly feel inadequate at the large home that looms before you. Two stories tall and very, very expensive looking.

You're so busy studying the extravagance of it that you don't notice Nate unbuckling you.

"Your house is-"

"Obnoxious, I know."

He helps you down, taking your hand in his before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

You glance around the foyer, but not for long before Nate begins pulling you toward the stairs. And then you hear his name being called from down the hall.

He stops in his tracks, rolling his eyes.

"Is that your mom?" You whisper.

He drops his duffel bag, which thumps against the floor. "Yeah."

"Nate, come in here, I want to tell you how great you were tonight!"

You take one of his hands in both of yours. "Can I meet her?"

He pulls his hand away without answering. Only, instead, giving you a 'wait here' before walking away.

You stand there, unsure about the sudden shift in his mood. It was like it had happened gradually on the way over and only became more extreme the moment her voice called to him.

Does he really hate being here that much?

When Nate enters the kitchen, his mom is making a salad at the island, his dad grabbing a beer from the fridge.

Marsha walks around it, gesturing for Nate to lean down to give her a hug, which he does, and she plants a quick kiss to his cheek. "You were so great tonight, honey. Your momma is very proud of you."

He nods. "Thanks."

He glances back down the hall, and then his dad speaks. "You left yourself open too much in the first quarter. I've said it before and I will again, you need to work on that, son."

Nate's fists tighten at his side.

He glances back down the hall again and immediately regrets it.

"Do we have company?" His mom asks.

"No. I do." He takes a step away.

"Wait, hold on. Who is it?"

He rolls his eyes. "Does it fucking matter? I need to get back to her-"

He lets out a low swear. He just had to say 'her'.

His mom crosses her arms, now interested. "Her? Did you bring a girl home?"

"I think your mother means 'another girl' home."

Nate glares at his father as he takes a swig of his beer. Finally, he looks back to his mom. "Yes."

Her brows raise. "Well, do I get to meet her?"

Nate sighs. He steps out of the kitchen, and you look up at him, now full of nerves. He jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen.

You walk up to him. "Is everything ok?" you whisper as he takes your hand.

"It's fine." Is all the reply he gives you before pulling you into the kitchen with him.

Your eyes look this way at that, taking in the lovely décor and the beautiful island and appliances, then looking to his mom, then his dad, who seems to be watching the two of you with no more than idle amusement.

"Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my parents."

His mom steps forward first, pulling you into an unexpected hug, but you quickly embrace her in return. You don't want to admit how nice it feels to be held by a mother, even if she isn't your own.

Finally, she pulls back, holding you in place by your upper-arms as she looks you over. "Well, don't you just look adorable in Nate's old jersey."

You flush a shade of crimson. "Thank you."

She releases you, placing her hand over her chest. "I'm Marsha, the mom. And this is-"

"Cal," His father finishes, stepping up to the island, reaching across it to shake your hand.

You nearly tell him you already know his name, but refrain, knowing doing so will only make this moment more awkward.

Once introductions are through, you step back to Nate's side.

"It's nice to meet the both of you."

"Oh, she's polite!" His mom chimes in. "I already like her a lot better than Maddy. Not that that's hard to achieve." She takes a bite of her salad, swallowing. "She was a truly awful girl."

Nate wraps his arm around your waist, but before he can pull you away and get you upstairs and locked away inside his room with him, Cal speaks. "Going through 'em awful fast, aren't you, Nate? That's what, three girls now, in almost as many months?"

You feel nothing short of embarrassed, perhaps even a little ashamed, at his comment.

Nate's grip on your hip tightens painfully for a moment, and you're sure it'll leave a bruise, but you don't speak, instead just bearing witness to the now-taut silence enveloping the room.

Nate steps away from you, going over to the fridge.

Nate grabs a beer, Cal going to grab himself another, until Nate speaks so low only he can hear. "Not nearly as fast as you, though, am I?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're such a fucking asshole. Leave me," he glances to you, then back to his dad, "And her alone. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours like we usually do."

With that, Nate comes over, firmly gripping your hand, and leading you upstairs.

Once Nate has shut the door behind the two of you, locking it, he throws his duffle bag down, then grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants from his dresser before going into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

You seat yourself on his bed, wondering what, exactly, had been said between he and his dad to make him so upset. Unless it was the comment about him going through girls? On the one hand, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. On the other, parents sometimes give their kids a hard time. It comes with the territory.

A few moments later, Nate emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his hair damp and tousled.

You feel that same heat from earlier when he'd kissed you settling between your legs again. Then you tell yourself now is not the time—he's upset.

He walks over to his closet.

"Are you ok?" You ask softly.

He hands you a plain black t-shirt. "Here, you can wear this to bed after you've showered."

So he's not ready to talk about it just yet. "What about bottoms?"

He lies back on the bed, one of his arms slung over his eyes. "Nothing I have will fit you. The t-shirt is fine."

You accept that, padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

When you emerge, it's in Nate's shirt, a fluffy towel wrapped around your wet hair.

He's still lying on the bed in the same position from earlier.

You rub the towel against your hair a few times, then drop it in his hamper before coming to sit with your legs crossed beside him. You're silent for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. Finally, you just make a simple offer.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He shakes his head, his other arm coming to rub up and down your spine. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He lowers the arm from over his eyes, which are now open, staring up at the ceiling. "There's nothing to talk about. I told you: he's an asshole."

You shrug. "He's your dad. Picking on you is kind of part of his job."

"That's not why he said it. It's not why he does any of the shit that he does. It has nothing to do with him being my dad."

"Maybe he just-"

He looks at you then. "Can we just not talk about my dad while we're in bed together?"

You withdraw into yourself a little at his sudden irritation. And how he had worded it. Like you're doing something other than just talking.

"Ok, I'm sorry."

He notes that your tone now sounds slightly frightened. He sits up, leaning on his arm, his free hand coming to grip your waist. "No, I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just him. It's always fucking him."

"Have the two of you ever considered sitting down and just having a heart-to-heart?"

He snorts, then looks at you like that's the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with.

"Lie down with me," he says, pulling back the covers, which you then crawl beneath.

He pulls you against him, his arm under your neck, fingertips lightly tracing the tip of your shoulder. "Thank you for being here."

"You're welcome. I'm very proud of you tonight. It sounds like your mom is too."

He bends the arm that's not holding you behind his head.

"I'm glad you stayed."

"Of course I did," you say, resting your hand over his chest. "I thought I hated sports until tonight. I had a fun time watching you."

He looks at you. "Good."

He then slips his arm out from under you, your head falling back against a pillow which smells of cologne and him. He hovers over top of you, scooting you lower before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You panic. "Nate..."

He looks down, but you grab his chin, which he doesn't expect.

"Don't look."

His brows furrow.

"The t-shirt sort of rode up."

He bites back a smirk. So you're half-naked underneath him, then.

He lowers his body onto your own. "There, now I can't see."

You remain staring up at him.

He plants a soft kiss to your cheek. "Is this ok?"

You're quiet for a moment. Longer than he'd like. Until, finally, "I guess so."

That's all the permission he needs before he starts kissing you. He teases you with his tongue again like earlier, since you had seemed to like that so much, before he eventually moves lower, pressing hot, wet kisses to your neck.

He moves from one side, and when he gets to the other, you jerk underneath him and whimper.

So he kisses that same spot again and your breathing quickens.

His cock fills with blood, knowing he's found a sweet spot.

And so he kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, until your hips have risen up against him, your arms around his neck and you're panting. He flicks his tongue and you moan in the back of your throat, your control slipping more and more with each kiss. He doesn't stop until he's sure you're soaked and he sees that he's left a purple bruise in his wake.

When he looks down at you, your face is flushed, your lips slightly parted, your hair a mess. It'd be so fucking easy to have his way with you right now. But it would ruin everything to do it this soon.

"Did you like that?" he asks, smoothing some hair from your face.

You nod.

He wonders just how far you'll let him go tonight, short of him breaking your hymen with his cock.

He grips your hip in one of his hands, then moves it higher, to the curve of your side, then higher, until you reach down, firmly grabbing his wrist, his hand now underneath his t-shirt that's barely even covering you now.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I-" you shut your mouth.

In truth, all you want is to touch yourself. Or maybe let him. No. You can't do that. Not this soon. God, what are you doing? In his bed, nearly naked—nothing covering your bottom half, which is now so wet your thighs are slick from it—and wanting nothing more than to tell him to keep going.

You've never felt like this before. But you've also never had any form of intimacy with another person before.

Only ever yourself.

He gives you a look of understanding. "I don't give a shit what society expects of you. What you think you're supposed to do. I want to know what you want, right now, in this moment."

Finally, after a beat of silence, you release his wrist.

He slowly pushes up the t-shirt higher, then higher, until he can see the bottom swell of your breasts, then he pulls it over your head, tossing it on the floor.

And he just marvels at you. Your naked body lying back against his dark sheets. He still has his lower half covering your own, but knows he'll get to see every inch of you before the night is through.

He leans down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you throw your head back.

He grips your hips, trailing his tongue over to your other breast, now sucking on it. He looks up to you. Your eyes are now closed, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted.

He rolls a nipple between his teeth and your hips lift, which he pushes back down into the mattress.

He moves back to your other breast, doing the same, willing a whimper or a cry from your lips. Even his fucking name. Instead, you're so damn quiet. Maddy and Cassie had both been vocal—sometimes overly so. This he's not used to.

Finally, he lifts his head and your eyes pop open, wondering why he's stopped.

"Are you not enjoying it?"

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"You're not really making any noise. Are you this quiet when you touch yourself?"

You wait a moment, then nod. He just tells himself that he won't stop until he's changed that fact, then.

He dives back down, devouring your breasts again, then kissing between them, gradually moving lower and lower, until he's right below your belly button.

You suddenly sit half-up, leaning back on your forearms.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks.

Your heart is pounding, and there's an incredibly strong pulse going between your thighs. A million thoughts race through your head. The most prominent one: is this why he'd given you attention in the first place? To make you another notch in his belt?

"This...this isn't all you wanted me for-"

"No. I want you. All of you. Being intimate with you is just one part of it. I don't plan on having sex with you tonight. When I take your virginity, I want it to be perfect. For your sake. There's just something I want to try."

He releases one of your hips, twining his fingers between yours for reassurance. While he understands your hesitancy, he wishes you'd lie the fuck back down and spread your legs for him.

Until, finally, you do.

He kisses down your stomach, then is pleased to see that you'd recently shaven your pubic area.

He makes a mental note to start setting you up appointments, which he'll be paying for, so you can get waxed regularly. At least he won't have to worry about stubble or ingrown hairs at that point.

When he's finally eye-level with your pussy, his throbbing erection grows impossibly harder. You truly are fucking perfect in every way.

He lowers his mouth onto you and, finally, you cry out at the unexpected feeling.

He quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, spearing his tongue, burying it in the heat between your thighs. He flicks your clit and your fingers tighten around his.

God, you're already so fucking wet. He blames it on your being a virgin—not that he doesn't absolutely fucking love it.

So he does it again. And again. He then swirls his tongue this way and that, sliding up your soaked folds—God, you taste fucking amazing—then back down again. Finally, he pulls back the least bit and he hears you whine in response as he begins to kiss your inner thighs.

At least he'll have this to use against you when the time comes: a bit of oral sex, leading you right up to the edge, and then denying you an orgasm unless you do what he wants will be a perfect weapon against you.

Finally, after wiggling your hips more than once, clearly wanting his mouth back on your pussy, he gives you what you've silently asked him for.

He kisses, licks, sucks, bites—lightly—until he focuses solely on your clit.

He hopes you scream when you fucking cum just so his dad has to hear it.

Instead, that fantasy is broken when you release his hand, pulling one of his pillows over your face as you finish against his mouth, your hips lifting, which he once again pulls back down as he continues eating you out.

He only hears your muffled cries—he can swear he hears you say his name—until you finally drop the pillow on the floor, trying to catch your breath as he presses a few kisses to your now-pulsating pussy.

He rests his chin against your pubic area, watching as you slowly begin to calm, your legs still over his shoulders.

"How was that?"

You feel dazed, your legs like jelly, even a bit sweaty. "Good."

He raises a brow. "Just good?"

You tangle your fingers in your hair, the pulse of your pussy just now beginning to calm. "Really, really good."

"You liked it that much, huh?"

You nod.

"How much?"

You sit up, your muscles now feeling weak. "I loved it, Nate. T-thank you."

He studies you for a moment, considering. "Do you want me to do it again?"

"Really?"

He notes just how eager and excited you sound. Almost desperate for it—for him.

And in that moment, he knows he finally has you exactly where he fucking wants you.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs imagine #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria x you #euphoria x reader

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lulublack90 · 2 days

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Prompt 28 - Dogwalker Au

@wolfstarmicrofic April 28, word count 785

Remus relished his daily walk through the little park beside his house. It was a good way to blow away the cobwebs and stretch out his aching muscles from being hunched over his desk for the last eight hours researching.

Sometimes, when he was too tired to walk, he’d just sit on one of the benches and people watch. He liked to make up little stories about them. Like today, there was a red-headed mum pushing her son around in his pushchair. She’d had a long day fighting off the evil wizards that plagued this land and wanted to ask the fairies to protect her son. But at what cost? He thought to himself, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of his made-up world.

He spotted a pudgy man who was grasping his briefcase to his chest, his eyes darting this way and that. He was clearly a spy and was on his way to divulge key information to his boss. Remus couldn’t quite decide if he was going to the good or the bad guys, but before he could come to a conclusion, a flash of long curly hair caught his attention, as a man so beautiful Remus instantly decided he was a siren with legs, raced across the grass after a huge black dog.

“Come back Pads!” The man yelled as he tripped over his own laces, falling over. He jumped back to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of grass and dirt before lunging forward again after the great beast. They soon ran out of sight, only the dog’s playful barks letting Remus know he was still on the loose.

Remus groaned as he stood, his joints popping and creaking as he set off back to the entrance. He’d gone maybe two or three paces when his feet were suddenly not beneath him. He landed on the stony path with a loud thump. Pain instantly sped up his back and he winced until it ebbed. “I am so sorry!” He heard the man calling as his heavy boots clumping towards him.

The dog, hanging its head a bit as though it knew it had done wrong, came and lay down next to Remus, dropping its huge head into his lap.

The man got to him, breathless and hugging his knees as he drew in lungfuls of air. “I. Am. So. Sorry.” He said again between breaths. He held up the snapped lead. “He chewed through it when I wasn’t looking and took off. Normally he’s really good, but today, I honestly don’t know what got into him.”

Remus had barely heard what the man had said, he’d been concentrating on the way his full lips moved around the words.

“Hi, I’m Remus,” He said, wanting to introduce himself. The man blinked at him and then grinned.

“Hi, I'm Sirius and that clown is Sir Paddington the third or, as I like to call him, Oi come back!” Remus looked down at the now calm dog and patted his head gently.

“Well, hello, Sir Paddington.”

“The third,” Sirius prompted.

“The third.” Remus smiled as Sirius manoeuvred himself beside Remus. He looped the handle end of the ruined lead through the dog’s collar and slid the lead part through it, fashioning a new restraint.

“There, I might actually be able to get you home now.” Sirius chastised the dog. He yanked the lead to get the dog on its feet and then offered a hand to Remus, who was still sitting on the ground. “Can I help you home first? Get you a coffee to apologise?” Remus shook his head and pointed at the house across the park.

“That’s me there. No coffee shops in between, I’m afraid.” He joked. Then an idea sparked in his mind. “But you can come and make me one if you want.” The man and his dog intrigued him. The siren with legs and his furry pal. Perhaps he’d sung a song to enrapture Remus and that’s why he’d offered. Remus put aside his silly stories and waited for Sirius’s answer.

“Yeah, go on then.” Sirius grinned. “Can this one come as well or should I take him home first?” Remus thought that Pads probably didn’t get invited to many places due to his size.

“As long as he doesn’t eat my books, he’s more than welcome.”

“Hear that, Pads? I think you just made a friend.” Sirius scratched his dog behind the ears.

They walked the short distance to Remus’s house, chatting and getting to know each other. Remus and Sirius spent many afternoons after their first encounter walking Pads around the park, though Sirius had bought a metal lead now, one that Pads couldn’t chew through.

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xetswan · 2 days

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Twilight- Unknown: Chapter Seven, The Battle

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[six] [seven, end of The Eclipse]

Later that night, Bella asked for a sleepover like old times. It shocked me at first. I was expecting her to ask more questions about my past lives but surprisingly she didn't.

We just watched movies together, eating popcorn. Maybe a random question about what it was like being a vampire.

She was sound asleep after the second movie. I decided to watch a few others but in the middle of the night she swings her fist, hitting me right in the arm. "Bella? What happened?" I woke her up, she breathed heavily, her heart racing.

"The intruder... The newborn army. They're all her puppets. Victoria." She says out of order and I raise a brow. "Alice or I would've seen if she wanted to make an army." I argue. "Unless she's hiding behind them, and she's letting someone else decide. Maybe she found out how you guy's visions work." She explains, I sit a little straight. Considering it.

"Trust me, I hope what you're saying is true and that it's her. I'll speak to the Cullen's about it, go back to sleep." I tell her, she nods her head. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow." I assured her since she seemed like she wanted more from the conversation.

I told Edward about it over the phone, now he's changed his mind about Bella being allowed to be even near the fight. Knowing she's a huge target. He's so serious about it he wants Jacob to help him with his idea.

We stand in the woods together. Jasper, Edward, Bella, Jacob, and I. Jacob goes away with Bella in his arms. Us three wait here.

"Okay, go ahead." Edward nods to us. Jasper and I take each other's hands and smell for my sister. Nothing comes about, only Jacob's wolf smell.

"All we picked up was wolf stench. No Bella. This will work." Jasper tells his brother who seems relieved. "Great."

"Okay, Alice, don't be a stranger." My dad waves to my girlfriend as Bella gets out of her truck, confused. "Okay." Alice grins. I see Bella's surprised face.

"Your alibis for the battle is all arranged." She says, pulling me into a small kiss. Holding onto my waist. "Really?" Bella asks.

"I told your guy's father that our whole family's going camping this weekend. So you two are having a sleepover with me. Charlie is going fishing anyway." Alice simply tells us.

I'm surprised he went for it since I am dating Alice but it's probably because Bella will be there and he doesn't think I would do that around my sister. Which I wouldn't... Just in the woods...

"Charlie? You guys are on the same name basis now?" Bella questions. "Yeah, that's crazy." I add in with a little chuckle.

"Me, he likes. Actually, you and Edward will have the house to yourself tonight." Alice smirks at my sister. "Like alone?" "We're all going hunting. Powering up for the battle. You're welcome." She smiles, walking me to her car and we stand there.

"I'm going hunting?" I raise a brow.

"Well, we can go away from the others, of course." She flirts, pulling me closer by my neck to kiss my lips. "Mm, I guess so." I kissed her once more.

"I'll see you later, lovebug." She tells me, opening her car door. "Can't wait." I wink, walking away to join Bella again, going inside our house.

"Hey. Do either of you want a sandwich?" Charlie asks us. "No, I'm good." Bella says. "I'll take one." I yawn.

"Well, the sister. [Name]'s girlfriend. I like." He points to me and I smile, Bella playfully rolls her eyes.

"Alice, yeah. She's great." My sister agrees. She moves over to the sink to start washing the dishes. "Hey, dad. I was wondering. Why didn't you get remarried, after mom?" She asks him suddenly. I look over to him, he seems a little stunned by the question but nonetheless he answers it.

"I don't know... Guess I still haven't met the right gal. Why?"

"I don't know. I thought you just... Maybe you gave up on the whole institution of it. Of marriage. But do you think there's any value in it?" She rambles a little bit. I scrunch my face in where she's going with this.

"Yeah, yeah marriage has value. When you're older. Much older. Like your mother. It seems to work out fine for her the second time around. Later in life." He says.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugs.

"You definitely don't wanna have to get married because you weren't careful." He tells her and I snort out a laugh, getting a small glare from both of them. "What?" She huffs.

"Look, you know what I'm talking about. Both of you should listen. There's things that you need to think about if you're gonna be physically intimate." He begins, both Bella and I groan.

"Not the talk." I complain. "Oh don't, it's just as embarrassing for me as it is for you two." He tells us. "I doubt that. And don't bother because mom beat you to it like ten years ago." Bella tries to stop him.

"Well, you two didn't have partners ten years ago." Charlie defends.

"I'm sure things work the same way." Bella shakes her head. "Alright, so you guys are taking precautions and-"

"Okay, dad. Please don't worry about that with me. Edward is old school." Bella admits to him. I see my dad perk up a bit.

"Old school, great. What's that? Like code for something?" He questions her. "Oh my God. Dad. I'm a virgin." She blurts out.

"Okay, good. Glad we covered that." He sighs. "Me too."

"Virgin...Liking Edward a little bit more now." He says and that makes a mortified Bella bolt for the door. I laugh quietly.

"I wouldn't laugh [Name] I still gotta talk to you." He points to me and I smirk.

"I'm a virgin too." I lied to him, why would I tell my dad I've had sex? Do I look stupid to you?

"Good, Cullens are getting on my good side today." He mutters and I shake my head, leaving the room.

Later that night Bella had left to go to the Cullen's house as I was joining the others during their hunting.

The whole time my mind was away from everything. Thinking about how the fight is going to go down. How I have to use my wolf form during it. I've been practicing with Sam but it hasn't been easy. It's been the complete opposite.

I can't get used to using it. It doesn't feel right.

I want to let the others know I don't think I'm going to turn but I know that would only upset them. They're busy hunting right now though so I've just been climbing through the trees.

Watching the view above. It's a scene I don't think I could fully appreciate as a human. I mean I can see further so there's that.

"[Name], darling." I heard Jasper speak, startling me since I wasn't paying attention. I jumped down from the tree.

"Yes?" I innocently ask, smiling at him. "I have something to talk to you about." He admits, I tilt my head. Not saying anything, just letting him continue on. "So, the battle." He starts then immediately pauses. "Mhm." I hum out.

"We've come to the conclusion that you should be with Bella. Away from the fight. Edward thinks it's best that it's another person protecting Bella up on the mountain. And then he and Jacob will be-" "Pause." I laugh out loud.

"I'm getting put with the weird love triangle?" I question, a little offended that they're making me do this. "I don't want to but yes." He nods his head shamefully.

I stare at him for a moment. Calming myself before I speak. I understand where they're coming from and it won't hurt to be up there. I'm confident in my family to get it done without even getting hurt. They're strong.

"Okay, I'll do it. Only because it does help me make sure my sister is safe. The only thing is I won't know if you and Alice are." I frown, grabbing his hand.

"Alice thought of that. You're a hybrid, you can hear everything from a distance." He tells me. "If one of us gets hurt you'll hear it and you can come a runnin." He smiles. I shrug my shoulders letting out a long breath.

"I guess, if I hear anything of your two's distress I will be there." I warned him. "Understandable, darlin." He kisses my lips shortly.

In the morning I'm waiting for Bella and Edward as Bella spread little drops of blood around the woods. "You're going overboard." I heard Edward say.

"If this is all I can contribute, I want to be thorough." My sister tells him. "The newborns will be frantic. Now let me put a bandage on that." He tells her. "It doesn't bother me anymore." He adds and I'm a little confused on why he said that. "Since when?" My sister asks.

"Since I spent 24 hours thinking you were dead." "You're not wearing your ring." Mm now I understand. "Well, I didn't want to risk losing it." She simply says. "Or risk Jacob seeing?"

"I think we should wait to tell him. I mean, at least till after the fight." I can't believe I found out they were engaged this way. "If you're having second thoughts..."

"I'm not. I just want him to have a clear head." Bella assures him. I hear Jacob come into play so I walk towards them as well.

"Whose head is unclear?" Jake asks. "Nobody's I hope." My sister says. "Alice says there's a storm coming." Edward announces.

"I can feel it." I stare up at the sky. "Me too, we should get going." Jacob says. "I'll take the longer route. But I'll get there first. Set up camp." Edward tells Jacob and I who nod our heads in understanding. He turns to my sister and kisses her before leaving.

"I have to turn. I'm not getting carried by you, sorry Jake." I apologize unsincerely. "Understandable." He waves me off. "Here. So I have something to change into." I hand a small bag to Bella.

I go off into the woods, taking off my shirt and pants before transforming into my wolf form.

I meet them up at the mountain, beating Jacob and Bella by a few minutes. Edward covers me in a blanket as I transform back into my regular form.

"Jesus, I'm glad I have the wolf heat." I let out a small shiver. He laughs. "Here." Bella hands me my bag and I thank her before going into the tent.

I quickly changed. I hear them talking but I don't pay much mind to it. Not really caring enough to do so. "You guys can come in now."

Late in the night the storm gets worse and worse meaning it's only colder. Bella's freezing, her teeth chattering can be heard miles away.

"I should have chosen a site lower down." Edward frowns. "No, it's fine. I'm okay." Bella assures him. "What can I do?" He asks. She only shakes her head. The zipper opens, revealing Jacob.

"I can't sleep with all that teeth chattering going on." He chuckles. "Forget it." Edward stops him. "She may need her toes someday and let's face it. I'm hotter than you and [Name] here." He begins to crawl to Bella's side but Edward's hand is suddenly hard on his shoulder.

"Get your hand off me." Jacob warns him. "Get your hands off her."

"Don't fight." Bella says, still shivering. Edward notices how cold she looks and pulls his hand away. "Ashe gets sick, it's on you." Jacob tells him. Edward glances at me and I nod my head.

"Just let him, it will help her." He closes his eyes, letting Jacob do it. "Why, You're freezing, Bella. relax , you'll warm up soon. Faster if you took your clothes off." He jokes around. I make a disgusted expression.

"Jake." Bella warns him to stop. "Survival one oh one." He sighs. Edward glares at him. This is going to be a long night.

I lay in the corner of the tent in my own sleeping bag. I slowly fall asleep, luckily just missing the conversation Jacob and Edward have.

In the morning Bella and I climbed out of the tent. We're met with the young wolf, Seth sitting there. Staring at us. "Hi, Seth." Bella waves to him. I give the boy a small smile who huffs in response as a little hello.

"Where's Jacob? Did he already..." "Not yet." Edward cuts off her sentence. "He's checking to see if the woods are clear before he goes." He tells her, wrapping an arm around her and that makes Seth job off.

"I'm really sorry about last night. That couldn't have been easy for you." Bella begins and that's my cue to leave the scene.

I joined Seth up above from where he was. It's boring up here. I wish I argued with Jasper and stayed to fight but I knew it would've made way more problems than what it's worth. I don't want to argue with them anymore.

After a while passes I know that Jacob joined them. I listen to the fighting down below. I focus on Jasper and Alice's voices, their grunts and orders to each other. I wish I could be there with them. I hear Alice and Jasper fighting one of the same newborns.

"Jasper- back off- you can't be everywhere at- watch out!" I hear Edward shout to the air, knowing they couldn't hear him. I hear Alice tell Jasper she can handle themselves.

I stand up to go join but Edward's already at my side stopping me. "He's alright. She is too. You can't join." He tells me and I glare up at him.

"Like hell I can't." I push past him but he only speeds in front of me once again. "Not yet." He tells me. Then we both stop. We share a look with Seth.

"Someone's hurt?" Bella asks us. "Seth, go." I ordered him. He bolts away from the campsite. "Is it Jasper?" She asks another question.

"She's close. I can hear her thoughts. She knew we weren't there but she caught mine and [Name]'s scent." He explains. I stand close to Bella, he stands in front of her. "She knew Bella would be with me. She thinks she's lucky with [Name]." He translated her thoughts out loud to us.

"She found us." Bella whispers.

"She's not alone." I add in. Then a boy, the missing one from the papers, steps out of the woods.

"Riley, listen to me. Victoria's just using you, to distract me, But she knows I'll kill you." Edward tells the boy who looks shocked at first. He hesitates. "In fact, she'll be glad she doesn't have to deal with you anymore." He tries to convince the boy, knowing it's the truth but he of course doesn't know that. Victoria emerges out of the woods.

"Don't listen, Riley. I told you about their mind tricks." She tells the boy, who is obviously easily influenced. "I can read her mind, so I know what she thinks about you." Edward tells him.

"He's lying." Victoria argues. "She only created you and this army to avenge her true mate, James. It's the only thing she cares about. Not you." Edward says.

"There's only you. You know that." Victoria says after seeing the hesitation in Riley. He focuses back on us. Positioning to attack. Victoria's eyes meet with Bella's, filled with bloodlust and revenge.

"Think about it. You're from Forks. You know the area. That's the only reason she chose you. She doesn't love you." Edward was a bit more harsh with his choice of words. Riley falters slightly. "Riley, don't let him do this to us. You know I love you." Victoria forms her face to be more emotional. Somehow convincing the boy.

"You're dead." Riley attacks Edward.

Seth leaps from the cliff above and lands on Riley taking a chunk out of hus hand. He screams in pain. Seth circles back for another attack. Edward starts toward Victoria as I hold onto Bella making sure she's not able to be touched. Victoria goes to escape but Edward darts in her path.

"You can escape. You always do. But you won't get another chance like this again." Edward threatens her choices. She hisses back at him, backing further away.

"You want her. You want [Name]. You want me, Jasper and Alice to feel the pain you felt when we killed James. When we tore him into pieces. Then turned him into ash. When I turned him into nothing." Edward edges her on. Which it works. She erupts and charges toward Bella and I.

I hold onto Bella before running out of the way. Edward intercepts her plan and they roll down the hill.

We watch Seth get kicked down the cliff. Riley spins toward us. To help Edward I push Bella back and grab Riley myself. As we fought together he got me into a headlock. Edward fighting with Victoria seemed a little hopeless.

That was until Bella stabs her arm with a shard of some rock slate.

They stop going towards the smell. I take the arm that was around my neck and rip it off. A loud screeching noise because of it.

I toss the arm to the side and Seth leaps up, tackling Riley. Dragging him into the woods. "Victoria! Victoria!" Riley screams but the redhead does nothing, not even giving him another glance. We hear the screeching of his head getting torn off by Seth.

Edward charges towards Victoria, the two clash and begin to fight. It was fast.

He pummels her down and has himself behind her, holding her in a death grip. She struggles glaring at Bella and I. I ripped my shirt and tied it around Bella's wound tightly. Edward bares his teeth and bites a chunk from her neck, ripping her head off.

"Edward." Bella says, going towards him as she tries to touch him but he turns away. "I didn't want you to see that."

"I'll get some bandages for your arm." He starts for the tent but Seth lets out a small howl.

"Something's wrong." Bella says. "Alice needs us." I tell them. "And now." Edward agrees. "Why? What's happening?" Bella asks.

A massive fire burns when we show up. The Cullens and the wolves drag what's left of the newborns into the fire. "How long?" Edward asks.

"A few minutes. Maybe ten." Alice tells us. "They timed their arrival well." Rosalie joins in. "Probably hoping the newborns took a few of us out." Emmett spits.

"What's she doing here?" Edward points to the newborn girl behind them.

"We offered her safe haven if she stopped fighting. She took it." Esme tells him. "The pack needs to leave. The Volturi won't honor a truce with the werewolves." Carlisle speaks up.

"Where's Jacob?" Bella asks. "There." Edward points to the large world but then he hears a vampire behind him. Leah charges.

"Leah, don't!" Edward shuts but it's too late. The newborn grabs her ruff, yanking her off of her paws but Jacob leaps onto him tackling him. He tries to bite the newborn but it gets its arms around Jacob, crushing him. Jacob howls in agony. I wince at the sight.

"Jacob!" Bella screams. The other wolves pounce on the newborn, pulling him apart.

Edward and Carlisle appear to Jacob's side. Jacob is back to his human form. His face contorted and looked like he could barely breathe.

"Hold on, carlisle is gonna take care of you." Edward tells the boy. "The bones on the right half of his body are shattered." Carlisle tells everyone. Jacob squeezes Edward's hand. Bella reaches them, dropping to her knees and she strokes his face. "Bella." He huffs out. "Jake, I'm right here." She says.

"Jacob, you idiot. I had it." Leah tells him, saddened by what happened and obviously feeling guilt. "Leah." Sam states, basically telling her not now.

"I need to set the bones before his accelerated healing kicks in. It's already starting." Carlisle says. "We need to get him out of here. We;re not gonna win in a fight with the Volturi." Edward orders,

"We'll take him back to Billy's." Sam nods. "I'll be there as soon as I can." Carlisle assures them. "Hand in there, Jake. We got you." Bella touches him one last time.

Jacob cries out in pain as the pack lifts him.

"They're here." Alice speaks up. I stand between Jasper and her. "It appears you've done our work for us." Jane comes into view out of the smoke.

"Impressive. I've never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact." Jane raises a brow. "We were lucky." Carlisle smiles.

"I doubt that." Jane hums. "It appears we missed an entertaining fight." Alec frowns in disappointment. "Yes, it's not often rendered unnecessary."

"If you'd arrived a half hour ago, you would've fulfilled your purpose." Edward hostilely tells her.

"Pity."

She then looks behind us, spotting the young girl. "You missed one." Jane points.

"We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender." Carlisle informs her. "That wasn't yours to offer." Jane moves towards the young one. Esme shoots Carlisle a concerned look.

"Why did you come?" But before the girl can answer the question she uses her power on the girl. She screams in pain.

"They came to destroy us. To kill Bella and [Name]." Esme speaks but Jane ignores her. Enjoying the pain. "Who created you?"

"You don't need to do that. She'll tell you anything you want to know." Esme pleads with the blonde vampire. "I know."

Carlisle puts a hand on his wife's shoulder. The girl's screams stop. "I don't know, Riley wouldn't tell us. He said our thoughts weren't safe." She tells Jane, who only zaps her again.

"Her name was Victoria. Perhaps you knew her." Edward says.

"Jane faces Edward with an unnerving smile. The other three positions behind Jane. "Edward. If the Volturi had knowledge of Victoria, they would've stopped her. Isn't that right, Jane?" Carlisle makes eye contact with the girl who just stares at him.

"Of course. Felix." She suddenly says and the brunette male moves to the girl.

"She didn't know what she was doing. We'll take responsibility for her. Give her a chance." Esme begs with Jane and the other members.

"The volturi don't give second chances. Keep that in mind. Caius will be interested to know that she's still human." Jane looks over to Bella. "The date is set." Bella spits out.

"Take care of that Felix. I'd like to go home." She ignores my sister.

The male does it and we all wince at the noises. "Thank you, Felix. Until next time." They all leave.

Later that day I sat in my room. On my bed more specifically. Alice and Jasper at the foot of it.

"Edward and Bella are engaged." I suddenly tell them with my lips pursed out stuck in thought.

"Mhm, that's huge. Are you excited for them?" Alice asks me and I nod. "Of course."

"Why are you bringing it up, darlin '?" Jasper asks with a small smirk on his lips.

"Oh no reason." I lay back in my bed. I hear them snicker at me. Joining me in laying on either side of me.

"Is there something you're hinting at?" Alice pokes my side. "I don't know, am I?" I stay strong with a stern straight facial expression.

"Well polyamory isn't exactly legal in most states." Jasper points out to me.

"Let's move to another country." I simply shrug my shoulders causing them both to laugh.

"We'll get married." Alice hums. "Someday."

"Why not now." I offer. "Are you proposing to us?" She asks and I raise a brow. "Mmm, why do I have to be the one to propose?" I huff.

"You brought it up." Jasper reminds me and I chuckle.

"Fair, fair." I kiss his lips then face Alice to do the same.

"Let's let them have their moment then right after steal their thunder." I exclaim, closing my eyes.

"Sounds fair to me, lovebug." Alice lays her head on my chest.

"Yeah, very smart, darlin." Jasper agrees.

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