#fic: show me those pretty white jaws

[honeybcj]

barty core

SOOOOOO BARTY CORE. a brief summary of show me those pretty white jaws barty <3

#han’s asks #barty crouch jr #fic: show me those pretty white jaws

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Warnings: angst angst angst! mean!Steve, bitchy!reader, slight allusions to unrequited love, mentions of Vecna and the upside down, argument, Steve being a dick to reader. and before anyone comes at me with the 'but your Steve is so ooc! he isn't mean anymore' this is a fic, this is enemies to lovers, you see the mean!Steve warnings, you know what you're getting yourself into.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had buried his past self, King Steve was dead, but all it took was a little push for him to make a small appearance again, to rain nothing but chaos upon his already weak 'friendship' with you. You pushed him, and you did it a little too hard.

Word count: 5k+

Author's note: Big big biggest shoutout to my bestie @hellfire--cult for helping me and writing those evil evil lines, you're the best

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

He regrets waking up that day.

He regrets saying yes to Robin and the kids to hang out.

He regrets picking up Max’s phone call. 

If he wouldn’t have done any of these things, he wouldn’t be where he is right now. 

Parked in front of your house so he can drive you both to Robin’s. 

It’s been a week since the day at his place, a week since you had stormed out of his house, a week since he had last seen you. It almost feels weird. He can’t even remember the last time he had gone without seeing you this long. If you’re not hanging out with the group, he sees you going into the coffee shop across from Family Video every afternoon. Sometimes you even run into each other at Bradley’s Big Buy, but since last Saturday, he hasn’t seen you anywhere – it’s almost as though you had disappeared. Maybe he would have worried if it wasn’t for Max and El gushing over your shopping trip to Indianapolis the other day, he panicked when they told him that, thinking that you were driving again when you still weren’t allowed to, but El had calmed him down, telling him that you used the train. 

With a sigh, he gets out of the car. He runs his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. He rings the doorbell and takes a step back, staring at the wooden door. 

How will you even react to seeing him here? 

You’re surely expecting Eddie, not him. 

The door opens after a moment, revealing you on the other side, looking as beautiful as always – unfortunately. You’re wearing a white top, the soft pink stripes matching the color of your glossy lips, your skin looking soft and glowy as the sun shines into your house, the fading bruises are almost all gone, finally. The scent of your perfume, something sweet and flowery invades his space, and he can’t help but inhale it, feeling warmth blooming in his chest. 

He takes you in, the way you look beneath the sun rays, the way your dainty necklace lies so prettily on your chest, the way your lashes touch your skin as you blink at him. 

The smile on your face instantly fades away when you lock eyes with him, the usual grumpy frown takes over instead, that pulls him back into reality. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” 

Yeah, you’re only pretty and cute when you keep your mouth shut. 

He clenches his jaw, trying not to show how annoyed he is already. 

“Picking you up.” 

You furrow your brows at him, “what? Where’s Eddie?” 

“He forgot about his Doctor’s appointment, he had to rush out. Max called me and told me to pick you up.” 

“Oh,” you nod and you stare at him for a long moment before a smile appears on your face, “she told you, huh?” 

Caught off guard by the smile on your face, he stays quiet, only nodding at your words. 

You chuckle to yourself, turning away from him to pick up your jacket and your keys. Surprising him by not fighting him, you step out of the house and close the door. You look him up and down, eying the keys in his hand. 

“Can I drive your car?” You ask, tilting your head, “I promise I’ll take better care of it than you ever could.”

He snorts at your words, looking at you with an expression that almost makes you laugh. 

“With that head injury? Yeah, not a fucking chance, Blondie.” 

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, already making your way over to his car. 

“It’s been like what… a month? I’m all healed, I’m feeling peachy.” 

“A month and you still get dizzy and don’t even lie about it.”

Once again, you keep quiet instead of throwing a smartass remark back, it makes him furrow his brows at you. Instead of opening the door, he leans his elbow on the roof of his car, looking over at you curiously. 

You open the door and put one foot in before you halt when you notice him staring. 

“What?” 

“Did you fall on your head or something?” 

You shake your head at him, scrunching your face up. 

“You’re not fighting me, are you feeling okay?” He smirks. 

Scoffing at his words, you flip him off before you get into the car without a single word. 

He taps his fingers against the car, looking up at the blue sky with a smirk that turns into a content smile, he thought the bickering would start the moment you opened that door. Maybe today won’t be so bad. 

Though when he gets into his car and he glances at you, you’re already staring back at him with that certain look in your eyes, the one that tells him everything he needs to know. Your eyes are glimmering with that smugness, the one that’s always there when you’re about to tease him with something that you know will annoy him. 

“Is Nancy gonna be there?” 

“Huh?”

You blink at him innocently as you fasten your seatbelt. 

“Nancy, is she gonna be there? You know, since you only get the chance to be around her during these group hangouts,” you smirk. 

He squints his eyes at you, biting back the bitter words that he was about to throw at you. He turns away and starts the car. 

He backs out of your driveway and without a single word, he starts driving. 

“Must suck being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, huh?” 

He stares at the road ahead, blankly. He could swear there was a hint of hurt in your voice. He doesn’t look at you, despite feeling your eyes on him, he doesn’t look and only grips the steering wheel tighter.

“But what would I know,” you snort and he hears you leaning back in the seat, the leather squeaking a little as you try to get more comfortable. 

Yeah, what would you know? He thinks. 

You’re cold and you’re mean – he is certain that there’s not a single trace of love in your heart. How you care that deeply for Max will always remain a mystery to him. 

“Are you a grandpa or something or where is the music!?” 

“You make enough music for us.”

He turns to you for a brief second, to see you scrunching up your face at him, shaking your head in confusion. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lego head?” 

“Your yapping and whining is enough for me.”

“Oh, so you’re saying my yapping and whining is music to your ears?” You smirk. “Just say that you love hearing my voice.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs, glaring at you. He clenches his jaw and flicks the button to turn on the music. 

Material Girl by Madonna starts playing and he instantly feels his heart dropping, his cheeks start glowing red – at least, that’s what it feels like. He grows flustered underneath your stare the moment you start laughing. 

“Oh wow, I knew you were a girly girl, Harrington.”

He changes the song, calming down when some Duran Duran song starts playing instead, but you are still laughing, and he can only groan in annoyance, pointing his finger at you, “shut up, Blondie.”

Your face only grows more amused, and this is where the teasing begins and the drive to Robin’s house becomes a torture for him and he practically starts counting down the second till he can finally get out of the car that he usually loves being in. 

He bites his tongue, not saying a single word while you yap away the way you always do. 

What a fool he was for thinking that this day could have been good, you manage to ruin every day of his. 

He can only stay quiet for so long. 

“Do you ever shut up or do I have to make you!?” 

That seems to shut you up. At least, for a moment. When he glances at you with angry eyes, he notices the smug look on your face that still didn’t stray away from you, not even after his words. 

“And how would you do that?” You ask, mockingly. 

He stares at your lips for a moment, clenching his jaw and gripping the gear stick tightly. He looks away as he turns left, pulling up in Robin’s driveway, he parks the car. 

“I have an idea or two,” he mumbles and gets out before you can question him. He almost thinks that his words have stunned you, when you take a moment longer to get out of the car, but when you do and your eyes meet his, you smirk again. 

He starts walking backwards, taking in the sight of you as you walk towards him. Your jeans hug your hips and your legs so perfectly that he begins to hate them. He almost feels ashamed for wanting to see them from the back. His eyes move up to your top, without intending to stare at your cleavage but he does.. and fuck, he hates how attracted his body is to you. 

“So cocky and for what?” You chuckle as you brush past him, not noticing his staring. 

Steve’s cheeks are red, his eyes instantly fall down to your butt when he turns around to follow you onto the porch. You move your hips and he has to clench his jaw.

It’s really a shame that he can’t stand you. 

You ring the doorbell and patiently wait for Robin to open, you don’t spare him a glance, you don’t even turn around to tease him any further, he doesn’t mind it though, it gives him the chance to keep looking at you. Your skin looks soft and he sometimes catches himself wondering what it would feel like to touch you, it’s glowing and he can’t help but ask himself whether it’s because of the body cream that you put on or if it’s just this pretty on it’s own – not that he ever imagines you putting lotion on your body after a shower, definitely not. 

“Oh great, you didn’t kill each other!” Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat. 

Robin grabs your hand and pulls you into her house, only throwing a glance over her shoulder at him, “come on in Dingus, you know the way.” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he walks in, watching the way his best friend pays more attention to you than to him. Not only did you nestle your way into his friend group, you had also seemingly nestled your way into Robin’s heart. He watches the friendship between you slowly blossoming and he can’t help but feel jealous of that. 

He stays back in the hallway for a moment, preparing for a long evening with you. 

He hears Robin talking your ear off already, Max and Lucas are in the kitchen too. But no one else is around. Nancy and Jonathan are on a date, he knows that, Jonathan gushed about it to Argyle before he left the other day and Steve couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he heard them talking about Nancy. The other teens are off doing god knows what. So much for the weekly group hangouts. 

He hears your laughter and he can’t help but roll his eyes. It’s not the kind of laugh that he ever gets, no, whenever you laugh with or at him, it’s like you’re mocking him or making fun of him – not that he cares, he does the same to you. It’s your thing. 

But for some reason it bothers him to hear and see you laughing like this with the others. 

You get along with Robin, you get along with Eddie, you get along with the teens – hell, you even get along with Nancy even though you glared daggers at each other that day at skull rock.

With him, you’re either grumpy and rude or you’re just a snappy smug brat – which seems to be the case today. 

Steve walks into the kitchen, putting on a smile to greet Max and Lucas with. 

“Hey,” Max mumbles grumpily, only shooting him a brief and very forced smile before she goes back to her deep conversation with you. 

Another grump, he thinks to himself. It’s not a surprise that the snappy teen likes you so much, you’re both the same person. 

Lucas greets him with a handshake and a friendly smile, something that two of the three girls in this room should learn. 

“Are you coming to my game next friday?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nods. 

“You can bring her,” Lucas wiggles his brows at him, gesturing to you with a wink, “as a date,” he whispers.

Steve scrunches his face up, as though he is disgusted by the thought of it – like he wasn’t just checking you out on the porch. 

“You’re joking, right?” He mumbles as he looks over Lucas’s shoulder, glancing at you. 

“No,” Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head, “you are awfully mean to her, which means that you must like her.” 

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks over at you again, in sheer panic, hoping that you didn’t just hear the ridiculous words that have left Lucas’s mouth. You’re too distracted by whatever story Max is telling you though, looking back and forth between her and Robin. 

He looks back at Lucas to see him staring smugly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Isn’t that what you said to Dustin when he asked you for girls advice?” He snorts, shaking his head once again, “‘the key with girls is acting like you don’t care’” Lucas mocks quietly, chuckling after that. 

Steve sighs, putting his hand on his hip, “he told you that?” 

Lucas leans closer, “he sure did,” he smirks as he turns his head to glance at you before her turns back around, “I remembered it the other day, and it had me thinking–”

“Alright,” Steve interrupts him, he places his hands on his shoulders, “stop that, Sinclair.”

Lucas laughs, eying the flustered look on Steve’s face, who shoots him another glare before he steps away. He clears his throat, looking at the kitchen island where Robin had already prepared all the snacks. 

He grabs two bowls, glancing back at Lucas, “help me carry the snacks over to the living room, man. These ladies are too busy gossiping,” he says, expecting you to turn around and throw a comment back at him, but you don’t. 

Robin squints her eyes, nodding at him, “don’t give us the sass, Dingus.”

Lucas chuckles at her, he walks over to the kitchen island, reaching for the bowl of sour gummies and the M&M’s, “when is Steve ever not sassy?” 

At that, you finally turn to face them, a smirk tugging at your lips, you don’t have to say anything to show him that you agree with Lucas. 

He only rolls his eyes at you, no further words needed as he leaves the kitchen, stepping into the living room with Lucas trailing behind.  

“Wow, you didn’t even say anything to her.”

Steve has to roll his eyes again, the teasing in his voice isn’t very subtle. He opens his mouth to speak when the doorbell rings and Lucas rushes out of the room before he can even move or say anything. 

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Lucas says after opening the front door. 

“Found him on the side of the road.” Steve hears Eddie’s voice. 

“Oh you two are such jokesters. You think I’d miss out on game night?” Dustin’s voice sounds through the hallway. “What are we even playing?” 

Robin replies enthusiastically as she walks into the living room with Dustin by her side and Eddie tagging along, greeting Steve with a grin. 

“Oh boy, the board’s definitely getting flipped today,” Dustin laughs.

Steve raises his brows, “you mean you will flip the board?” 

Dustin tilts his head as he looks at his older friend, his smile turning into a playful frown, “hello to you too, Steve.” 

“Henderson.” 

Dustin claims the loveseat before anyone else can, slumping down with a grin on his face, he reaches for one of the sour gummies in the bowl. 

“What’s wrong? Did your phone date not go so well with your girlfriend?” Steve teases. 

“At least I have a girlfriend,” Dustin winks at him. 

As you walk into the room, Lucas faces Steve again, with a teasing grin, “what do you mean, he’s got one too, she’s right there.” 

Dustin gives him a funny look before he turns around with furrowed eyebrows, confusion flashing in his eyes before they widen and he turns back to look at a very unimpressed Steve. 

“What!? You two are dating?” He shrieks loud enough for you to freeze in your spot. 

Steve closes his eyes, shaking his head at him. 

“Huh?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes at Dustin, “Henderson, I think that Sinclair might have a little too much imagination over there.” 

Lucas only shrugs, still grinning. 

“You’re playing matchmaker with the wrong people,” Robin laughs, looking between you and Steve. 

“Absolutely,” Eddie chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to her. 

“Can we just play the game now?” You ask as both you and Max sit down on the ground in front of the board game that Robin had already put out. 

“Ooh, we’re playing Ludo?” Dustin asks. 

Everyone nods, everyone except for Robin. 

“What?” She chuckles, cupping her cheek as she looks around, “that’s Wahoo.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, “Wahoo?” 

“That’s what the game is called,” Robin says, pointing to the board. 

Steve watches the way you shake your head in confusion, slightly pouting as you stare at her. Fuck… you almost look cute. 

As Eddie reaches for the dice, he throws it up in the air, catching it between two fingers, “this game is called Sorry! my friends,” he smirks, cockily. “We only need four players so who goes first?” 

Lucas, who starts scarving down the snacks, waves a hand at Eddie, “I’ll sit this round out,” he says with a mouthful of chips. 

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth!” Max rolls her eyes at him. 

“Red, Dustin, Robin and Steve go first,” Eddie says. “The master has spoken, now let the games begin,” he says in his deep voice. 

Steve rolls his eyes at him, “this isn’t D&D dude, we don’t need a master.”

“Still.”

“Okay!” Robin claps her hands together, “let’s play!”

And as the game started, everyone laughed, everyone was having fun, everyone was joking around, it was all lighthearted. Dustin was throwing tantrums in his team with Robin, while Eddie snickered. Robin was a loser, and she accepted that she sucked at this game, competing against a bunch of stubborn teens. She was the first to sit out and stop playing. Max and Lucas preferred to stay out after the first few rounds, amused by watching the gameplay. 

And then, Steve and you were outright competing as if it were a championship. Neither of you even noticed that it was only you two left, everyone else stopped playing a while ago, watching this intense competition instead. 

While you took it all with ease, teasing him with a few jabs here and there whenever he was losing against you, Steve took it all a little more seriously. Because the moment he lost against you more than once, the anger in him started rising – not because of the game, but because of the looks you were giving him, those smug and cocky looks, the comments that weren’t even that bad – but everything, everything about you was pissing him off this day. 

Your attitude this morning, your comments, your jabs, your arrogance, you’ve been getting on his nerves from the moment you got into his car. 

And right now, he can feel his chest heaving, burning in anger and frustration. 

His jaw is clenched, his eyes are hurting from the intense glares that you start giving each other. 

Neither of you feel the eyes of the others on you two, the nervous glances, the warning ones because everyone knows what will follow after this. 

You both want to win against the other so desperately and currently, it’s a tie between the two of you. He won three rounds, you won three rounds – this apparently will be the last one, this one will decide who will win this very meaningless, stupid game. 

But Robin can’t take it any longer, she can’t keep watching the two of you getting angrier each passing second, knowing that this round will only lead to another, and both you and Steve could sit here all night, because you are both stubborn brats when it comes to each other – as it seems. 

“Okay!” Robin throws her hands up, snatching the dice from Steve’s hand that he was just about to throw, “can you two stop? It’s a tie, move on!” 

You and Steve look away from one another, raising your heads to look at Robin who glares at the two of you. 

“We’ll finish and then we’re done!” 

Steve groans at your words. 

“No!” Robin shakes her head, “because one will win and the other won’t, and then it’s a fucking mess, so stop playing! You fought interdimensional monsters together, for fucks sake!”

“Right, that doesn’t mean anything.” Steve rolls his eyes before he looks back at you, only to see your face fall. 

He almost feels guilty. You risked your life out there, not only for Max and Lucas but also for him. 

“That doesn’t mean anything!? Well aren’t you fucking grateful, Harrington.”

“Everyone fought, not just you, don’t think you’re all high and mighty,” he mumbles through the anger that he is still feeling.

A part of him is begging to just move on and keep his mouth shut, but he is frustrated, not just because of the game, but because of you, every small comment from you reminds him of how much he can’t stand you. 

“Hey, hey, hey, break it up,” Eddie says as he gets up from the couch, raising his hands up as he takes in the hurt but angry look in your eyes. 

You shake your head, “no, no, let him keep going! I want to hear what this bastard with his hero complex has to say to me.” 

Eddie can see the way Steve is fuming, the way the anger in his eyes gets stronger and stronger. He stands up, moving closer to you as you get up as well. 

“You fought with us once. Once! And you think that makes you equal to us!? You have no idea what we all went through, you have no idea the people we lost along the way, you know nothing!” He snaps at you, ignoring the way you draw back as your eyes fill with something he can’t read. 

Max straightens up in her seat, already reaching for her crutches as her eyes widen, seeing the way your lips twitch as blink up at Steve. 

“Steve, stop!” 

If he wasn’t so angry, he would have heard the fear in Max’s voice, something that normally would’ve made him draw back in an instant. 

You glance at her, shaking your head, yet again. “No, Max, it’s okay.” You turn back to face him, looking into his eyes coldly – that’s the only look he knows, that’s the one he cannot stand. “What does Steve Harrington know about loss!?” 

Steve feels his gut twisting, he clenches his jaw but doesn’t answer your question, he keeps staring at you. 

“What? Mom and Dad left you the whole house to yourself, and you consider that loss!?” You frown, lifting your arm, you gesture to the people in the room. “I see Robin alive, I see Eddie alive, I see all of the kids alive, so who exactly did you fucking lose, Harrington?” 

Behind the anger and the emptiness in your eyes, is sadness and pain, something he can’t see through the haze that he is in, right now. All he sees is something, someone he hates, someone who acts like she knows everything, someone who does nothing but bring chaos and anger into his heart and into a friends group that is so sacred to him. 

He never felt this angry before, not even when he found Nancy with Jonathan, not even when she cheated on him and left, not during a single fight with his dad, nothing had ever made him feel such rage. 

“You are so fucking horrible!” He snaps at you, not caring about anything, right this second. Everyone in the room disappears, Dustin, Max and Lucas are no longer there, and neither are Robin and Eddie, it’s just you and him now. “I hate the fucking day we ran into you at Skull Rock! You are the most despicable and cold hearted bitch I’ve ever met! I would be surprised if you ever loved somebody!” 

He can’t see the shock or the pain that nestles into your features. 

He doesn’t even hear the gasps from the others in the room. 

“Steve!” Max yells, reminding him of the fact that she is there, that everyone else is here too. 

The girl almost falls over when she jumps up. Lucas stands up as well, steadying her before she can fall. They both look at you, both of them see the hurt in your eyes, the way you helplessly stare back at the guy that you risked your life for. 

Robin and Eddie stare at him in disbelief, not knowing the Steve that they are looking at, right now. 

All that Steve can see is red though. 

“No, Mayfield, let me fucking finish because she needs to understand how terrible she is.” He practically spits in your face, not tearing his eyes away from yours, at all. “I-I mean, don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did – even more, I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all. You’re not someone easy to fucking love, Blondie. Trust me on that.” 

And the moment those words fall from his lips, the room falls silent, dead silent. His heart stops racing and his skin runs cold. Suddenly, he is brought back into the room, the haze fleeting away more and more and he can now see clear again. 

And as he looks at you, really looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach and every trace of anger is gone, replaced by a guilt he had never felt before. 

Your eyes are filled with tears as you stare at him with nothing but pain, not a single trace of coldness in them, not a single trace of anger or indifference or even hate for the man in front of you. All he can see is pain, pain, pain.. Your tears are welling up more and more, threatening to spill down your cheeks. Your throat bobbed up and down, like you are trying to gulp down the ball of nerves and sobs threaten to fall from your lips. 

For a split second, he can see through you and he sees something there never was before – something that tells him that you would let him do this, until he’d get enough of hurting you, that you would let him break you, little by little. But, he had enough. 

You look down as your bottom lip starts to tremble. 

As he sees that, Steve feels like the most horrible person on the planet. Worse than his dad, worse than the monsters he had fought, worse than Vecna. 

What had prompted him to throw such awful and vile words at you? 

The guilt that takes over almost feels unbearable and the moment he wants to take back those words, to apologize, you are already gone. 

Lucas calls out to you, but the slamming of the front door is all he gets back. 

Before Steve can even look around the room, his back is slammed against the nearest wall and he is met by the sight of an angry Eddie, his eyes darker than ever, nose flaring as he grips the collars of his polo, pressing him harshly against the wall. 

“I would fucking punch you in the face right now, Harrington. Don’t forget who was the first person to jump into the water to save your ass!” He yells at him, giving him one final push that knocks the breath out of him before Eddie lets go and leaves to go after you. 

Steve looks down, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

“Steve… what the fuck?” Dustin mumbles, softly, staring at his older friend in disappointment. 

Robin looks around the room, before her eyes lock on Steve, she looks at him in confusion, not understanding where all of this came from. 

“Dingus.. what the hell was that? Why did you–”

“Everyone leave the room.” 

It’s Max’s voice that sounds through the room, awfully calm. So calm that it takes everyone aback. 

Lucas stares at his girlfriend, completely confused. 

All it takes is a single look from her though and he and Dustin scatter out of the room. Dustin pulls Robin along who protests at first but follows when she looks back at Max, who only shakes her head. 

It’s silent for a long minute, and Steve doesn’t know what to feel. 

“That was fucked up, Steve.” Max says. 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the tears that threaten to build up. 

Not only did he hurt you, something he never thought was even possible. He also showed his friends a side of him he wanted to keep buried. A side that surely makes them feel less safe around him now. 

“I-I know, I don’t.. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” 

Max purses her lips, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact. 

“She may not have been with us from the start, hell, I wasn’t either. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t experience it just the same. She may not have fought monsters, Steve. But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.” 

You fought monsters, you fought the bats off of him. 

He snaps his head up, staring at her with a frown on his face.  

“Max I–”

The redhead shakes her head, anger and disappointment still on her face. 

“I’m not the one you have to apologize to. I will not tell you her story, I’m not allowed to do that. But you are wrong, you are terribly wrong about everything you just said about her.” 

She reaches for her crutches, giving him one final look before she leaves the room. 

He stares at the ground with a gnawing feeling in his chest, hating himself more and more as the seconds go by. 

The look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

How could he ruin everything in the span of a few minutes? 

How could he not see the hurt in your eyes after only the first words that he threw at you? 

How could he not see the vulnerable side of you? 

How was he so blinded by the act you had put on? 

He judged a book by its cover, just like King Steve had done in the past. There is no excuse. No fucking excuse for what he had done to you. 

♡

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington #stranger things angst

[gemstone-roses]

Safe

Summary: Geralt talks you through your orgasm.

As promised, I finished my essay, and as voted for by several of you, this was the fic you wanted posted first!

Warnings: smut, 18 + only! minors be fucking gone from here ! Vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, hurt/comfort, use of good girl, soft Geralt. Praise kink, brief mentions of panic. You know the drill. Female reader.

Please note I am not responsible for your media consumption.

The white haired Witcher encases you beneath him. His muscly arms holding steady on either side of you. His amber eyes show nothing but adoration for you as he thrusts his cock inside you.

“You’re doing so good for me” he groans, his thick cock twitches as you tighten around him.

It’s been hours, not that your complaining of course, Geralt exploring every inch of you with his fingers, his tongue, muttering praise and comments on how gorgeously stunning you are.

“Geralt” you whine, your pleasure building, your stomach beginning to swirl as it starts to cloud your mind.

“Your close” the Witcher observes, angling his cock so he hits deeper.

You wince slightly, he picks up on it, slows down a bit.

“your okay” he soothes, his big hands splaying across your thighs, squeezing, it provides comfort. “Look at me, love” his gravelly voice is soft, tender.

Your eyes flit to his, a half smile on his face

“There she is” he moves his hand to your face, runs a finger down your jaw.

He watches intently as your chest begins to heave, your pussy tightens round his cock.

“G-Geralt” you choke out, panicking slightly as your mind fogs.

“your safe, it’s okay, I’ve got you love” he assures you, his hand still cupping your face. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm begins to wash over you, your arm reaching to clutch Geralts. Nails leaving half moon indents in his skin as you moan beneath him. He snakes a hand down between you, callused finger pushing on your puffy clit. “Mm, keep making those pretty noises for me, your doing so well my love, you feel amazing wrapped around my cock” Geralt lets out a broken moan as he spoke, gritting his teeth as your pussy convulsed around him. “ Oh god Geralt, I’m gonna-

“I know, keep your eyes on me, breathe, good girl, good, that’s it” he hisses through his teeth as you clench hard around his cock. You whined as pleasure overcame your senses. Geralt cups your face, . “Let go, come for me” he demands, his stunning eyes wide with lust, brow furrowed slightly, you loose yourself in them as you release around him. Triggered by your orgasm, Geralts cock tightens and he paints your walls with his come, a low moan bubbling from his throat as he does. “Fuck my love that was incredible, you were incredible” he breathes, his voice cracked with pleasure. Your head is fuzzy with the aftermath of your climax, Geralts rough hands rub soothingly up your side.

“I’m going to pull out now, and I’ll clean you up my love, okay”. He states, his voice has that post orgasm croak that you just love and you nod.

You flinch slightly when the warm towel touches your core, Geralt leaning up on the bed on his side next to you. “Sh it’s okay” he soothes. “I love you” you murmur, shifting closer to him, you curl into him as Geralt pulls the quilt over the both of you. Wrapping his big arms around you he pulls you closer, encasing you. You feel safe like this, you always will. “I love you too my love” he smiles, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

#geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher imagine #Geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher x reader #henry cavill imagine #geralt x reader #Geralt of rivia x female reader #Geralt of rivia smut

[uncouth-the-fifth]

i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.

Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”

It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.

And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.

Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.

You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”

“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.

The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.

Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”

The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.

She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”

The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.

He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”

But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”

Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”

The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”

Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.

“Look out!” She stage-whispers.

Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.

“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”

All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.

Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?

You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”

He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.

“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”

…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.

You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”

“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.

You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.

“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”

You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.

“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”

Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.

He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.

…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”

He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.

A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”

“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”

Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”

The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.

For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.

“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”

Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.

He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”

You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.

You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.

“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”

All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.

A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”

-

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#leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy/reader #leon kennedy x reader #uncouthre #leon kennedy #resident evil #user uncouth

[carolmunson]

in a dark, dark room (kas!eddie) (dark)

inspo from this audio by eyesofsuggestion on reddit.

your boyfriend isn't as he seems. looks like someone else is along for the ride in his earthly vessel, someone you've never met but whose been dying to meet you. tw: 21+ and especially minors dni. this dark fic features dub-con and is not recommended reading for those who are sensitve to dub-con and non-con themes in fanfiction. this fic features: dub-con, blood play, blood drinking, rough p in v sex, choking, name calling, taunting, mocking, light smacking. pretty blatant monster fucking. read at your own risk.

there is just so much blood.

you lay there, limp, feeling the sheets soak beneath you slowly. warm and thick, staining the floral pattern fabric, turning white roses red with little mercy. he leans down a second time, gasping with need, long tongue sliding over the puncture wounds in your jugular before sinking in again. you cry out, pushing at him desperately, making him growl with frustration when his hands come to hold you down by the bends in your arm. talons that have grown sharp and long bite into your skin with the same sting as his teeth.

"please stop," you choke out, haze gathering at the edges of your vision. you feel the rush of blood pull from your neck while he keeps drinking, breaking away to nose at your jaw and cheek. "please stop," he taunts back, tongue laving over you again, "can't stop, sweetheart. not when you taste so good." you try to brace yourself for his third bite down but it doesn't come. his lower lip drags over your skin, slick with slimy drool while his mouth becomes accustomed to the long fangs growing over his lower gums. he takes a sharp inhale, taking another break from his fill, pushing up on his arms where they hold you at the elbows. he smirks down at you, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight pouring into your room. this was not the eddie you were used to. sweet and mild mannered, always letting you take the lead. he bought you flowers on your second date and dinner on your third. soft and gentle in everything he did, warm to the touch. forehead kisses before bed. desperate for you. but not like this. "what's that face for, huh?" he asks, voice a deep husk, vibrating with something else -- something darker, "scared'a me?"

you nod with a whimper, weak with blood loss. you can feel your hot tears leak down into your hairline, over your ears. "m'gonna die ed," you croak out. "hmm," he hums with a tut, shrugging, "maybe. but you'll be alive for what's next." "well, barely," he smiles, teeth gleaming with blood and spit. he lets go of your arms when he knows you can move them, gouges left in their wake when he does. you aren't sure if there's any more blood left to let out. he shifts above you, pulling you to the edge of the bed when he stands over your broken form. what happened? you think. he'd come over like he always had. you made dinner together, watched creepshow, he complained about work, he told you about a show he had coming up. when you went upstairs tonight it wasn't uncommon for you both to fool around. you're used to him clinging to you, holding you, burying his face in your neck. it was when you heard the rattle of his breath and the flap of leathery wings that your eyes flew open to this -- to some monster.

you look at him now as he towers above you. the puncture in your neck pulses, the scratches on your body sting from when he pulled you down and held you in place when you tried to run away. gripping and grabbing to keep you under him until you succumbed, teeth sinking deep into you. "you miss him, huh?" he asks, the blue of his veins showing up under his tattoos in a maze. he parts your thighs, looking down at your naked core hungrily. his dark eyes flick up, catching yours, "you can't lie, i can hear you in there."

you nod again and it aches, stretching the holes over your veins. "aww, poor thing," he pouts, a finger reaching out to trace along your inner thigh. you shiver at the touch, cold and biting, "he misses you, too."

"who are you?" "i'm who he really is, honey," he coos, "your boy's just a cover. you think he came out of that accident without some screws loose?" you whimper when he touches the seam of your thigh, "at least he picks 'em pretty for me." you look down at your body, splashed with your blood and a sheen of sweat.

"if it makes it easier for your dumb little head to understand," he starts, taloned hand reaching out to smack lightly against your cheek, "let's just say i hitched a ride when he got out of hell."

"and baby," he says, suave and sure, "i've been so patient with wanting to get a taste of you. he's been putting up such a fight trying to keep me away."

you fade in and out, feeling him take your thighs in each of his hands to pull your flush to him. they run up over your hips, sliding over the stickiness on your skin.

"whining about how i eat girls like you for breakfast," he snickers and takes a beat, "actually -- he's not wrong. i do do that."

"but you've been on my mind, sweetheart," he nods, letting go with one hand while he reaches for his cock. your mind races when you see it, thicker than the one you're used to -- monstrous almost, "been really needing a toy to play with on this side."

"and you're just so easy, huh?" he says, brows tilting while he mocks you, "he'd do anything for you. can you do this for him? he knows just how you like it -- i can do that, too."

"eddie--" you rasp, arm weakly reaching up to push his hand away while a fingertip drags through your folds.

"please baby, call me kas," he grins with a smarmy flair, "eddie's my host's name."

"what is it, hm?" he asks, catching your gaze in his, "you don't want it?"

you shake your head no, eyes snapping shut when he drags two claws lightly over your cheek, over the tendon in your neck that he hadn't bitten through. they follow down over your collar bone, down your chest, your rib cage, the touch making your back arch up to him when he applies just enough pressure to make it sting.

his giggle is dark and deep seated in his chest, "i can see what you're thinking. you don't wanna like it -- but it looks like you're just beggin' for it, aren't you?"

his hand grips your hip, the tip of his cock sliding from the top of your slit to the bottom with steady guidance. he slides it again against the slick while it builds, body betraying you while arousal overtakes your fear. in the haze it could still be him, it could still be eddie.

"hm, he likes it when you're on top, doesn't he?" kas laughs haughtily, "loves looking up at you. what's he call you, again? oh that's right -- his goddess, his angel." "that's not how it's gonna go tonight, though, is it?" he asks, fat tip of his cock pushing in between your thighs, "no, you're gonna be my pretty whore. gonna be a good 'n' weak, needy toy for me."

"right?"

tears prick your eyes at the stretch of just his tip, unsure of how the rest of him will fit without ripping you apart. his hands come to your thighs, pushing them up against your sticky chest. you nod slowly, the rest of your body on fire with pain from his previous assault.

"m'gonna split you open," he nods, pushing in slowly while your walls stretch to accomodate him. your back arches with whatever strength you have left, whines and whimpers pouring out of your mouth. his claw sink into the fat of your thighs, blood pooling from the divots and dripping down over the meat of your ass.

"hmm," he hums while he pushes in to the base, "he loves this pussy. i can see why."

kas's thrusts start slow, claws digging into your skin with each slick squelch deep inside you. he leans forward, wings spreading behind him while he picks up a steady speed. his gaze is certain, tawny circles around his eyes making it seem like they're deeper set. he touch his cold, skin chilling you while he presses himself along your body.

"oh he let's you choke him out, huh?" he snickers, eddie's memories flicking through his mind like a rolodex, "he let's you tell him what to do? that's cute."

kas's clawed hand reaches up to curl around your throat, thumb narrowly missing the puncture wounds he left behind. with new leverage his pace quickens, "we're gonna fix that about you."

"you're gonna be," he begins, cock unforgiving in it's relentless punches in and out of you, "my pretty little courtesan -- hmm fuck -- you're gonna do what i say, when i say it. sounds nice, doesn't it?"

you whine, reaching for his wrist, weakly pawing at it before it lays limply by your side. 

"c'mon -- you don't wanna think anymore, do you?" he coos, "just wanna -- shit, yes -- wanna lay there and be my plaything." he readjusts, pushing one leg up so your knee hooks over his shoulder. the angle hits something in you that makes you desperate for more, a whiny moan pouring from your mouth. "oh there she is," he grins, "yeah, that's what you wanna hear huh? locked up and away so i can have you whenever. use you -- breed you." a needy moan escapes again, your body twitching alive while he pumps into you. your hips roll while he does, energy creeping into your veins, warming your skin. you're not sure how, not with all the blood you've lost -- but if this is what it costs to survive, you'd let him use you like this all night. "oh you nasty fucking bitch," he laughs, breaths huffing against your cheek, "dirty fucking girl, letting me all the way in. that’s what you want, huh? to get pumped full’a me? be a blood machine – hm?" "mmm ed, please more," you rasp out, needy for him to go deeper, harder. his grip tightens over your throat, your tongue lolling out in need for more air, "what's my name?" you choke out something inaudible, haze sliding over your vision again while he glares down at you. the pressure increases, blood leaking out from your jugular while he shoves you into the mattress. "huh?! what's my name?" "k-kas," you push out when he loosens his grip. 

"much better, sweetheart," he hums, "much better." he keeps you pinned down tight, cock drilling you into the sticky sheets. his hand creeps from your throat to the back of your head, ripping at your hair to pull you back so you'll face him. he doesn't blink, hard eyes staying on yours while he pummels into you without any signs of relent. he growls and grunts with each roll of your hips to meet his thrusts, almost proud that you're chasing your own pleasure while he takes his. his hard gaze falters when you reach up to run your fingers over his face. the touch is feather light, tracing the edge of his brow bone to the side of his cheek. you know eddie's still in there, you know this is partly him. kas's gaze softens for a moment and you swear eddie is looking back at you. you lean in, aching for a kiss, for something gentle amongst the horrific night you've had so far. "oh no, baby," he whispers, forehead pressing to yours. his ragged breaths mix with the wet squelches of him fucking into you, now as easy as if you've always taken him -- like you're used to his size.

"i don't kiss my toys," he hums, "that’s only for real mates." "and to be honest, sweetheart -- you're too pathetic for that."

your nearly pouty face is delicious to him, the hurt flashing through your mind feeds him as much as your blood has. he ducks down again to lick the dribble from your wounds, his wet tongue slippery over the sweat collecting there while he hovers over you. how can such a cold body make you so warm? "but you're so special to him," he gravels in your ear, "he loves you, doesn't he?"

"y-yeah," you whimper out. "well," he purrs, "that's too bad."

his speed quickens and your breath hitches, his body bends and contorts in a way that's nearly inhuman, fucking deeper and deeper into you with each painful snap of his hips. "you're all mine now," he growls, arm hooking under your waist to lift you up part way. your bottom half floats off the bed with his strength beneath you, so numb with pleasure you can't feel the way his claws dig into you again. you can't feel this teeth sink into your calf while he grinds into you, barely pulling out just to push in again. "m'yours," you squeak out, "m'yours, m'yours, m'yours -- oh god -- fuck, ohmygod fuck -- kas -- KAS." with a sudden burst of energy you reach up while the peak of your orgasm hits like a freight train, tightening hard over his cock. our nails dig into the cold skin of his forearms, over his tattoos, dragging down hard and tight. he sputters and smirks at the stingy pain of your clawing at him, the feeling spurring him on as he fucks you through your writhing release. "just like that," he huffs, droplets of blood flicking from his tongue onto your chest and sternum. his leathery wings tuck in to rest like hooks out of his shoulder baldes while he cages you in against the bed, eyes shut in concentration while he pumps in again, and again. with a final rough tug of your hair you hear and feel his guttural release. the only warmth from him being the sticky seed that he spills inside of you, cold mouth clamping down again on your neck for a final taste before his release comes to a close. you're back to laying limp on the bed. spent. he looks over you, growls and grumbles in his breath, clicking and seething -- this must be his natural state. "well weren't you fun," he grins, sick but sweet, "i'll have to try you again." you whimper, unable to move this time, to think, to breathe. "but i think i you taste better a little scared," he nods, "gotta make sure you forget this so you can struggle like you did tonight. that's -- oh sweetheart, it's just delicious." when your eyes meet his again you can't look away, not that you'd want to -- he's beautiful like this. hair long and brushing his built shoulders, skin so pale it's nearly blue, eyes dark and glittering with angry satisfaction. eddie who? you think. "adorable," he says smugly when he hears it in his head, "don't worry, i'll let that pathetic weakling have you back. he's miserable in here right now." you don't know if it's hyponosis or the exhaustion from losing so much of your blood supply, but sleep comes quickly -- fading out while he holds your gaze, words you don't understand filling your ears and thoughts -- latin maybe? you couldn't guess. you're just so comfortable. so tired. and the bed is so soft, so warm. you have to sleep, right? you've been asleep this whole time.

you wake up in the morning feeling tired, mouth dry and tangy. your joints ache, your stomach rumbles. you look over on your nightstand to two empty bottles of wine, two empty glasses next to them. when you sit up you look down, seeing that half of one of those bottles never made it to your lips -- your stained sheets shine back a purple red in your eyes. with a groan you turn over, sinking back into the covers, feeling the warm body of your boyfriend next to you. his dark curly hair pulled up in a ponytail, splayed across the pillow. the night is hazy: dinner, creepshow, wine, kissing. when you both got upstairs you were tipsy -- you vaguely remember the spill of the wine, the drunk giggles, the way his mouth tasted like aged cabernet. both falling asleep before you could take it any further. he stirs next to you, smiling when he sees you with a rub of his eyes. "morning, angel," he says in a yawn. "morning," you sigh, running a hand over your neck to rub at the muscles there -- aching and tense. "you okay?" he asks, turning over to face you, two fingers tracing over your cheek. "yeah just -- i think i slept weird," you shrug, "i'm definitely hung over." eddie laughs, "me too."

"we didn't -- we didn't fool around last night, right?" you ask, "we both knocked out pretty early." "i remember spilling the wine and then both of us saying we'd deal with it in the morning," he sniffs before stretching out, "and then i think i fell asleep in the wine stain." you giggle, feeling his arms wrap around you. warm body against yours, he kisses you soft on the forehead, "you look pretty." "thank you," your sleepy smile makes him smile back. "you know what i'm in the mood for?" he asks, "such a weird craving but they knock a hangover right out of me." "hm?" "a bloody mary," he says with raised brows, like he's surprised with himself, "i think i got some stuff downstairs to make them." "i'm not really into bloody mary's," you say with a scrunched nose. he offers you another kiss on the forehead before slowly climing out of bed. he shrugs looking down at you, pulling on his abandoned pair of boxers from yesterday, "hm, suit yourself. more for me then." when he snaps the band at his hips, you notice it. even sets of scrapes down his forearms toward his watch, your brow quirks, "hey, what happened to your arm?"

he looks down, and at first you think you catch a flicker of a smile before it turns into a confused frown, "weird...i don't know, sweetheart." he looks at both arms all the way around before turning to look at you, almost coolly, "maybe we did fool around."

#eddie munson #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #dark!eddie munsn #dark!eddie #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #eddie musnon x reader #kas!eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #kas!eddie smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

[keeponquinning]

Feel The Rain Pour | 18+!! eddie munson x fem!reader one shot!

summary — porn with some plot sprinkled about. eddie's been having a day and you noticed, so you decided to treat him to some alone time with you. things get steamy enough not even the rain can ruin it, maybe even make it better.

preview voiced by eddie —

word count — 21.5k 😭

warnings?? — i mean, it's smut, like, 100000% smut so. oral ( m + f receiving ), p in v sex, unwrapped bc no consequences in fic unless i deem it so, do not apply in real life pls, dirty talk tho nothing too scandalous, use of the word c*nt??, light spanking, like barely there, more smacking.

notes — good god it's finally done, it's finally here, I thought of this smutty idea like MONTHS ago when it was raining. and that....yeah, the thought of, "Oh, it's a one shot, it shouldn't take long" was WRONG lmao it took ALL the time. If you read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you LIKE / LOVE this, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY BEING. If you REBLOG / COMMENT / SHOWING SAID LOVE FOR THIS, you may as well be lucifer bc i'd sell my soul. i hope you all like this, this is my first real comeback to actual fic writing, and my god, it was hard. I'd honestly not read fanfics in so long, like, I think I was a teen, but then this tall white british man that put on a wig and stole our hearts came into the scene and it renewed my life of fanfiction with such ferocity it took me by so much surprise. i've read so many good stuff from fellow writers, i hope this brings even a small amount of joy ya'll brought me reading your stuff. without further ado, read my filth with a touch of fluff. and did i need to use the voice ai for this? yes. yes, I did. ( if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't, I'm tired )

taglist ! — @etherealglimmer , @inourtownofhawkins , @fanxxtasygirl , @lunaapis , @kuldxx1, @roxiehorrorshow , @twilightteeth , @paranoidmunson , @aconites , @selfishsaviour

He was having a day, that much you knew. You haven't been together long, but you've learned to see the signs. The tightness of his jaw, the way the light in his dark brown eyes seemed to dim and smolder.

There wasn't a lot you knew about Eddie Munson, other than whispers and gossip that roamed Hawkins High. The Freak of Hawkins was said often and that was all you knew of him, until you shared a class with him and was sat next to him, and for an hour each day, he was all you could really see. Sometimes with a turn of your head, other times out of the corner of your eye, despite yourself. It started off slowly, the first period of class, sometimes he'd come late and seeing him peek at your book to see what page the class was on, doing it enough times that you started to point at the page number for him. That was the first time he smiled at you, amusement and appreciation thrown your way and shit, it was nice.

The way he smiled and looked at you with those chocolate button eyes of his, was nice. And that was when you knew you were fucked. Because after that? Those small interactions meant everything, dropping a pencil and him picking it up for you, fingers grazing together sent your whole arm tingling. You were pretty sure you played it cool, a polite thanks and receiving a nod. He was oddly polite, in mannerism, but the way he looked and smirked at you was...something else. Something that entirely consumed you for the rest of the day, sparking up each time you saw him walk pass in the hallway, or in the cafeteria. Your friends were so oblivious to notice, even when it felt so pathetically obvious when your eyes would meet at least a few times during lunch. Yeah, you were fucked.

Then there was the day he forgot his book, and you two had to share yours, and he smiled over at you. Don't worry, I won't bite, he had said in a joking manner once your desks were joined, the book between you and you had just held back a bit in your seat. And even to this day, you weren't sure why too bad just flew out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though the smile on your face wasn't one of embarrassment, but amusement out of yourself. You were about to say sorry, blame it on being a bad joke, but he beat you to it. Only when given permission, s w e e t h e a r t. You looked at him then, his smile matching your own and his eyes staring directly into yours and words just died in your throat, giving a nod and you settled closer. You heard the teacher's voice, read the text, but understood not a single thing. Just the sound of his voice when he was made to read, the warmth of his body close and yet not close enough to yours and his breathing as he read along silently, when you dared to look at him, seeing his lips move along the words softly and the way your heart fluttered.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, f u c k.

You were the one that kissed him first, meeting him after school after his Hellfire Club meeting. He had asked to borrow your notes for an upcoming test, your notes much more detailed. He didn't even have to have a reason, he could have asked and you would have pathetically said yes. Your friends were starting to notice, the two of you making more opportunities to interact, to acknowledge each other, and they spoke to you in concern. You didn't really care, especially then when he was still riding off a high after his campaign and you saw it on his face, the way he moved. His eyes lit up, smile wide and his laugh... You didn't ask, but he tried to talk you through it, you weren't there, but you felt you were with how detailed he went into it. You were never into the game, but he was so infectious and captivating, you listened to every word, every movement, it was like he was doing a one man show and you were the only audience that mattered. You didn't know how, but you knew you were the one that kissed him, felt his lips and felt his hands at your hips and pulled you close to him. Tasted him off his tongue and fuck. He never let you forget it, though, that you kissed him first with that smug ass grin of his. You remind him that he's lucky he's cute.

Since that day, you two were pretty inseparable, attached to the hip, it did cost you your friends, and he had felt a bit bad about it. He knew it was because of him, the Freak, but you told him you didn't care, and you didn't, his friends sort of welcomed you anyway and were more genuine than your friends could be. In that time you got to know each other a bit better, was able to read his body language more, and that's when you knew he wasn't his usual self, quieter than normal, more rigid. You'd hope to cheer him up, bringing him to Lover's Lake with some food and beer you had managed to sweet talk your way into buying — fake ID helped in that as well — and had hoped for a nice little sunny outing, yet the overcast sky didn't quite get the message and messed that up for you. "This is a bust," you let out with a sigh, at least finishing your food, throwing the wrappers in the bag you brought. "Sorry, I was picturing sunny skies and laying all warm, but..." you tell him, looking at him with an apologetic face.

He wouldn't have it, though, looking at you with a shake of his head, "What're you talking about? You got me fed, liquored up, got us all to ourselves... Nah, sweetheart, nothing to apologize for, this is great." He stretched his arm, his sleeveless shirt showing off his tattoos on his arm, flexing his ringed fingers, his jacket around your shoulders, seeing you shiver once and immediately throwing it around you despite your protests. You were stubborn, but he was slightly more. Offering a smile, you watched as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close and laid a kiss at the corner of your lips. Chuckling deep at the soft little whine that came out of you, a smirk on his lips as he grasped your chin between finger and thumb, his lips meeting yours in a soft caress. Both of you feeling the smile between you, feeling a wave of relief and he a wave of hunger. Pressing his lips closer, your heart pounding against your chest as he took a deep breath and lips parted. The warmth of his tongue slid across your bottom lip and your body quivered, accepting his tongue, his taste.

His jacket fell from your shoulders, though you didn't feel the cold, just the heat of his kiss and the taste of cheap beer and cigarette — he's such a smoker and before you thought it was gross, but now the taste is undeniably warming up to you. Probably because it was so Eddie, you couldn't help but crave it now. Meeting his tongue with every flick, every roll that makes your head dizzy. You kinda recall your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, grasping the fabric and pulling him closer. Fuck, it strokes his ego when you did things like that, show how much you want him. You knew it did. But you didn't much care when you swallow his groan like that his hand moved to your cheek, can feel his breath deepen, chest rising and falling quick. His other hand joins in, cupping your face and it's your moan he swallows next and he does, so eagerly before the kiss ends and you two part, lips wet and thread of spit between you.

Dazed brown eyes look at you, his body warm, kind of tingling. His thumbs stroking along your cheeks, a small lazy smile on his face. "That better, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Always looking at your face, catching any movement, some sort of tell of what you were feeling. You were breathing deeply, seeming to be in a bit of a haze that he wouldn't lie, stroked his ego and he could feel himself harden in his jeans. He couldn't help it, seeing you like that from his kiss did things to him. His thumb brushing your bottom lip, catching your smile.

"Mmm..." you hummed, keeping close to him. "It's a start... Definitely a start."

His brows raised, his smile widening enough to show his teeth as he let out a breathless laugh. "A start? A start?" You chuckled, his lips peppering yours with kisses. You drove him crazy sometimes, though he liked it, "Can't believe..." he uttered against your lips, kissing you between his words, "..giving my best..." Fingers gliding down your neck, stroking the flesh lightly. "...and you say... It's a start... Killing me here..." Though he's still chuckling, along with you, it makes him forget, at least a bit, caught up in you. There's a lightness in him again, and he knows you can feel it, because he can feel it in you, too.

"It's a good start," you insist with a smile, lips flushed against his lips, teeth finding his bottom lip, biting into it and the groan he lets out brings in a wave of heat through you, pooling within your stomach, felt between your legs. He wraps his arms around you, around your shoulders unexpectedly and pulls you closer, feeling his lip slip between your teeth.

He sucked the lip, the stinging pain from that bite lingering, but in such a way it had zapped through him and went straight for his cock. Feeling a twitch there, jeans getting a bit tighter, but not unbearably so. Looking at you, he shook his head in pure astonishment, eyes scanning your face and fingers digging into your hair. "Shit," he let out, "Y'know what gets me? People look at you and think you're such an innocent little thing." You snorted at that, a roll of his eyes that only makes his smile grow wider. "I'm serious. Yeah, my girl is smart, kind, fucking gorgeous, prettiest thing I've seen..." His train of thought seeming to veer as his lips came to yours again in a soft kiss, fleeting as he let out a hum, feeling you shudder, letting that ego be stroked once again. "They think I'm so mean and scary... Like I bullied you into being with me... That I'm corrupting you. Like I'm gonna ruin you." His nose nuzzled against yours, dark brown eyes staring straight into yours, "That you have to or must be scared of me." His hand moved to the curve of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should be. Maybe I am ruining you."

He doesn't usually talk like this, which makes you listen to every word carefully until it starts to click. That lightness that had sparked within him dimmed a little with every word, and it's in that moment you realize what exactly had set him on edge today, the way he's looking at you, the jaw clenched again, it makes you take a deep breath and lick your lips. "Who was it?"

A strained laugh escaped him, dark brown eyes slightly flicker amusement as his grip on you loosened and he pulls away a bit. "Like I said — my girl is smart." You watch as he leaned back and rests at the palms of his hands against the grass. "Scott. Carver. Brick, the fuck I know, that meathead you used to slobber all over — well, maybe the other way around."

"Calvin."

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes so hard, you were sure it must have hurt, but he kept it up. "Calvin, or your pal, Cal," a hint of jealousy in his tone, fingers growing busy as he fiddled with a leaf on the grass by his hand. "Yeah, that guy. Came up to me at the lockers, like some white knight trying to save the damsel. You guys hadn't been together since last year? Yet he sees you with the freak and here he comes running. Saying all sorts of stuff, basically I'm bad for you," he quirked his lips, the leaf now torn to shreds, brushing the remnants of it off his hands. "That I'd drag you down, you got this bright future and I, essentially," his eyes looking up at you. "...will ruin you. That I should let you go. Whatever I'm doing to make, a sweet girl like you," his hand coming toward your face, tucking your hair behind your ear, watching your head lean into the touch and a soft smile appears on his face, taking in an uneven breath. "...a s w e e t girl like you...want anything to do with me, I should just stop, before you turn into a freak, too. And sweetheart, he's not the only one that thinks that. Because your former friends? They think the same."

"Do you believe them?" He doesn't answer you, but you feel the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, he takes a deep breath, but his lips are still. Grasping his hand, you give it a squeeze, "Eddie... Do you believe them?" You watched as he licked his lips, wondering if your taste was still on them, if he was savoring them, gently feeling his hand slide away from your cheek, his warmth lingered though. Slowly fading as your hand found itself on his jean clad knee, fingers trailing over the ripped hole, nails trailing over the skin. There was a sense of a shiver from him, prompting you to move a bit closer. "Baby, tell me you don't believe you're going to ruin me. That's not what's happening here. They're just assholes."

That made him laugh, a soft huff of it as his eyes trailed from your hand on his knee to your eyes, a small barely visible smile on his face. "Honestly?" He inquired, and only when you nodded, he continued, "I dunno. I mean, no, it's not like I went outta my way to..." He shrugged, "Try and get you or anything. Didn't really think much of it, of us being a possibility. Shit, part of me sometimes wonders if its a prank by your buddies. Send the pretty girl to the freak and...be nice to him, kiss him because..." His smile wide as he gave you a nod, "Y'know, you kissed me..." You snorted and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, eyes roaming over you, a proud feeling coursing through him. "Make him feel lucky that...you were goodly enough to do that. And other things... Really...good things."

"What, just good?"

He laughed, "Doesn't feel good, does it, huh?" Referencing your earlier assessment of their kiss.

Which you immediately got, chuckling as you moved closer towards him, close enough to feel his warmth of his body and his gaze. "Touche."

Eddie let out a soft hum, looking into your eyes with a pleased little smile. "I do feel lucky, though. I've noticed you, y'know, long before the school year. Before being sat next to you first period. The thought of you noticing me? Being nice to me — that, wasn't used to that." Shaking his head, he brought up his hand, wrapping it at the side of your neck, thumb caressing against the hallow of your throat. "Most people just...are so annoyed by me," he let out with a soft laugh, an even proud smile. "Something I bring out I guess. Just set 'em on edge, not gonna lie, I don't hate it. Gives me a kinda thrill to piss off so many people while just existing. That's natural born talent."

He wasn't wrong, after all, before the school year, all you knew of him was what was whispered and gossiped among friends and classmates. When you thought about it, there was a sense of unease whenever he happened to walk along the halls, making no qualms of his presence known. Back then, you didn't think much of it, you figured it was just the way it was and something to be endured. No one had attempted to know him, aside from the other outcasts, the ones that didn't fit in. You supposed you did, though barely, you weren't one of the popular ones but you were somewhere in between. You didn't hate Eddie, you just didn't know him, though you supposed there was a part of you that was helpless to take notice of him, even then. Though now...

"But you," he continued, eyes pouring over you, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "I dunno... You weren't like that. Not like them. You didn't seem scared, annoyed, maybe a bit quiet at first, but..." He shrugged, trying to explain it, even just a bit. Thing was, he did expect you to be like your friends. Ignore him, mock him, but since the day you simply pointed at the page number after he had peeked so many times, he was a little drawn to you. Not thinking he had a chance, of course. But, he liked being close to you, even if just in class, passing you through the halls, the fact you'd have an actual conversation with him. He knew it wouldn't go beyond that, that was, until you kissed him. "I still don't know why you kissed me, though, ego stroking aside... Not that I don't enjoy it, I fucking do. But, if I'm honest... Part of me wonders if it's all leading up to me covered in pig's blood. Some payback for...being mean and scary."

"So... You think I'd fuck you...for a prank?" You took in a deep breath, raising your brows, "Wow, that's some dedication there... Because as you keep bringing up the fact that I kissed you, I also fucked you right after... And I don't care even if you were that big of an asshole and somehow deserving of a prank of Carrie proportions..." You shook your head, "I wouldn't do that for a prank. Goes without saying, I wouldn't do that to you, because," you cupped his cheek, smiling softly. "You're not mean and scary... You're kind of hot, actually..." A laugh shared between you two, as he raised his brows and pointed at himself, as if questioning, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. "Y e a h, you are. Ridiculously hot. It's very distracting, has been for a while even before I kissed you..."

"Y e a h ?" he asked, a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he sort of believed it, recalling that odd time of sitting next to you in that damn class, so certain he'd be bored to tears, and then he wasn't. Not with you. Nothing was ever boring with you. His eyes glancing toward your lips, remembering that day, when you first pressed his lips to his — riding off his high after the campaign, after Hellfire, it wasn't his most sexiest moment, in his eyes. Which made the kiss so surprising, always being able to come up with some quip, some comeback or just be loud. But when you kissed him? Shit. All he could do was taste you, wanting more. Couldn't believe it. He still smiled when he sat at his throne and looked at the table, knowing with vivid detail how pretty you looked, cumming as he fucked you right on it. "Why'd you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't really...sexy right then... I don't think you're pranking me, anymore, I'm past that, but... I've been wondering. Stroke my ego for a bit."

"Oh... You were sexy then..." Laughing softly as you saw his confused face. "I'm serious. I was already...fucked over you, and you were..." You shook your head, "God, you don't even know. Eddie... I spent so much time around jocks, academics, party girls, all just making it their whole personality. It's their life and all they care about... Nothing else mattered, especially people. I'd be in a crowded room and they wouldn't care if I was in it. Even with Calvin, I just...didn't matter, y'know? All that time dating, he didn't know me. Just...this idea of me, I guess? He didn't care about knowing the person I was... Until I broke things off because I felt so lonely. There's no passion, no...joy, really. And even with sports, which, is the driving force in school, all they talk and care about, yet, I've never seen them as passionate as you were that day. No one's...genuine like you are." You watched as his eyes softened a bit at that, a ghost of a smile on his face. Had no one told him that? Were you the first? "And, again, you're not mean and scary. I've seen how your friends look at you. They'd follow you anywhere. No one mean and scary could bring that devotion. Loud? Yeah. Obnoxious? A good amount," he rolled his eyes at that, but both of you sharing a smile.

"You could even be annoying sometimes, but..." you continued, looking ino those deep brown eyes of his. "I'd take you over normal or, even the tall, dark, handsome type because those types are fucking boring and you are anything but boring. You talk, sometimes a lot, but at least you don't bottle things up like everyone else seems to do. Wanting to feel numb, playing their roles and settled to play them until the day they die. Without passion, without emotion, doing what they think is right for them, not what they want. I kissed you, and promptly fucked you, because you were different than anyone I had ever met. Very unique, very Eddie Munson and... I liked that the fact that I've never played the game didn't stop you from telling me every single moment of that campaign that day. Like you needed to explain it all to me. Like, you were excited and wanted to share that with someone you barely knew, it was..." You smiled wide, "It was very cute."

"Um," he interjected, holding up a finger, "I thought I was hot and sexy, I don't recall...cute being used to describe me, you're being very inconsistent, here, sweetheart."

A soft laugh breathed out as your hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair. "Oh, but you're actually all three?" He gave a nod, facial shrug given as you moved closer. "And it's actually very unfair, making it hard being around you and not do this..." Smiling against his lips, feeling his grin against yours as you kissed him, feeling him pull you closer, once again feeling his tongue slide within your mouth with no resistance from you. The hand on his knee lingered, the taste of his cigarette greets you once again, fingers sliding along the denim, nails dragging against the fabric, slowly along his inner thigh.

You were playing a dangerous game the more you moved those fingers on him, his breath hitching, shiver running through him and an ache settled from his hardening cock. He should probably tell you to slow down, to get in the back of his van to continue, in his opinion, a pretty fucking perfect afternoon. All because, he figured out, you wanted to cheer him up. Because the thoughts of your former friends, former boyfriend got into his head... Your words playing in his head, now, the roll of your tongue against his taking his breath away. His hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. His previous thoughts of his van slowly melting away, pressing himself closer to you. Chasing the sweet taste of you.

He liked that out of the two, you were the one that initiated the love bites. Your teeth finding his bottom lip, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending a pleasant little shock wave through his body. A little moan as he shivered, grasping your hips tightly. Sucking in his bottom lip as it slipped from your grip, tasting the slightest hint of blood, feeling a throb of his cock, the lightest touch of your fingers grazing against the bulge through his jeans. "Shit," he whispered, bringing his lips across your jaw, seeing your eyes look down between you both, on your fingers teasing him. The pads of your fingertips sliding up and down the clothed length, feeling his body tensing, a groan bubbling at the depth of his throat. "You drive me crazy, princess," his voice soft, wet kisses pressed against your throat. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slid out, closing his eyes as he felt your fingers copying the patterns he placed on your neck, a groan as the palm of your hand pressed against him. Rubbing lightly, yet with pressure. "Fuck, d'you know what you're doing to me right now?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, the fingers in his hair tightening slightly, as he growled and grazed his teeth against your neck. The feel of him pulse beneath your palm, keeping the slow pace but also taken by how hard he felt. Making your mouth water, an ache between your legs. "I do," your breath quickening, closing your eyes as your hand squeezed the bulge of his cock gently. The way he groaned made you squeeze your own thighs. You wanted to chalk it up to this thing between you being new and different, but the way he was able to arouse you so easily, to make you wet with a gentle gaze, touch, words whispered in your ear... That had to be something significant, right?

That, or maybe Eddie Munson just made you ridiculously horny.

Ever since you two had fucked that day after Hellfire, spread your legs so willingly for him on that damn table, a part of you was haunted by his cock. The feel of him, how hard and thick, the way it filled your mouth and cunt so differently yet so perfectly, it made you moan even now. Did Eddie know what he did to you? He holds you tighter, panting softly against your neck in a way that made you shudder. A whimper let out as his hand roamed up your back, his tongue finding your pulse, sucking wetly against it. The feel of his fingers glided over your shoulder, tugging the thin strap of the dress you wore — remember? You were expecting some warmth in the day. The dress was thin, flimsy at best, and perhaps more for his benefit, no bra underneath as he pulled the strap further, giving your neck a bite, making you squirm, a small whimper in your throat. You could feel his smile against your neck, moving toward your lips and melded into a kiss.

He knew you didn't wear a bra — selfishly it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you. The sudden cold weather making your tits hard, damn noticeable with that dress. Eddie prided in having so much self control not to latch on straight away, though that resistance was crumbling as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to let out a hiss, feeling your hand on his cock more insistent, "Mmm, baby..." he muttered against your lips, watching with a delighted gaze as your fingers went to his belt. You were so determined, insistent, and it stroked his ego so good that you wanted him that much. He kissed you again, teeth at your bottom lip just as you had, helping you with the zipper. "D'you..." he breathed out, groaning, your hand slipping inside, the loss of a denim barrier and the much thinner fabric of his boxers felt amazing. "That's... F u c k," he was going to say something, suggest something... "Fuck, um, van? D'you..." His cock twitched, right under your grasp. "God, you're killing me..."

And your hand was demanding, palm stroking his length over his boxers. The sounds of his groans making the ache between your legs all the more unbearable. "No... Not the van... I want you right here..." you uttered as your hand slid underneath his boxers, the both of you letting out a gasp of breath as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock, the feel of it within your grasp so oddly comforting, actually craving it since the last time you had him. With his help he lowered his jeans slightly, just enough to free him completely.

The thought of you wanting him so eagerly, it was frying his brain a bit. "You sure? If someone... Mmm..." That wasn't fair, how your thumb played with the bead of precum at his tip, using it to rub against him, his hands laid flat on the grass, trying to will himself not to shudder. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he looked at you, biting his bottom lip. "Someone could see us, sweetheart..." Since when did he care? Well, not for himself. "Someone could see you..."

"I know." His face awash in lust and confusion, your face moving toward him, "I don't care," you tell him with a smile, sneaking in another kiss, as if you could ever get enough of them. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his cock lightly, a small groan from his lips excited you, head filled with lust, with need. "I'm not a sweet girl, Eddie. I'm really not—"

"Yes, the fuck, you are," he uttered in a hiss, swallowing hard, his brown eyes darker to you. "You're my sweet girl..." The sound of it evoking a part of you from the depth of yourself, the way he said it, gave you the need to move your hand so painfully slowly, up and down his length. He let out a small whine, so discreet, so easily missed — but you heard it, from the back of his throat. Licking his lips, his hand grabbed you. "My sweet girl," he repeated, "Just mine," his words sounding distant, feeling himself get lost in your hand.

"I'm not innocent, though..."

That made him laugh, strained and out of breath, but laugh. "That you're not, sweetheart. No, that's what Cal and them think. Just sweet and innocent and should never, ever be around anyone like me," his voice laced with resentment, bitterness, a grin that matched it on his face. "I'm sorry, baby... I let them get to me." He let out a small groan, hips squirming underneath your touch, hand twisting as your rose it toward the tip and fuck, that felt good. "They don't see what I see..."

"What do you see?"

He hummed, pleasantly, fingers trailing up the hem of your dress, pushing it up your thighs, hips. "I see... A fire in you... Burning bright..." His words soft as he took your lips in another kiss, soft, sensual, open as you met his tongue once more. Never resisting. Always giving. A groan pushed into your mouth as his hand cupped your mound, long, thick fingers sliding back and forth against your covered folds. You were drenched, of course, to his utter fucking delight. Digits covered in the warmth sticky nature of your wet arousal, he sucked your bottom lip, teeth catching it, biting deep that you let out a whine. In your stroking of him, you felt the bead of moisture leak out of him more, felt the pulse and throb of him. Spreading it along his length, you needed to make your hand slick, wanting to slide your hand all the more easily.

As if he knew, as if he could read your mind, he broke the kiss and took your hand off his cock and spit into your palm. You couldn't help to watch in a sort of awe, it should disgust you, if it was anyone else, it would. But you couldn't help but think of Eddie doing exactly this, when you weren't together, and the thought of him thinking of you as he used his spit to his own cock, to jerk off... Thighs clenched together, feeling his hand guide yours right back to his length, moving your hand slowly up and down him, releasing small moans from his lips. Each sound sending a chill to run through you, warming and cooling you at the same time.

It didn't take long for him to lift his hand away, letting you take over as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the soft, and god, fluid feeling of your hand. You really didn't care if anyone were to walk by or see the two of you, because as your eyes took in the sight of Eddie's face then. The poke of his tongue between his lips, the slow rise of his chest, the concentrated, blissful look of his face as his jaw clenched and nostrils flared as his breath hitched and exhaled... You felt a sense of pride, knowing you were doing this to him, pleasing him in such a way. Your hand felt so smooth along his cock, squeezing gently, giving him a slightly tighter feel. His hand on your thigh tightening, fingers flexing the longer you went, you almost felt godly. You wondered if his rings would leave bruises on your thighs with how strong he was squeezing, you hoped they would.

"Should I be... Baby, you're too good at that..." his voice strained, his insides on fire, especially with your thumb swiping across the slit of his cock. "Making me... Fuck, wanna kick anyone's ass who you ever...touched like this... Oh, fuck," he ended as your palm twisted around the head, quick, fast, making him let out a whine. Pleasure almost overwhelming. He could feel it, the slow crawl toward the edge, gentle steps toward that blissful state that you've managed to bring him to over and over since the first time. You've shocked him, he'll admit that, a girl like you? Doing such filthy things, and not having to be coached, or taught, just simply let be? It was the hottest thing about you.

You feel him pulse in your hand, eyes watched as he leaked further, in your eyes, just for you. His words sweet in their own way, smiling softly as you take in the sight of his cock. Such a pretty one. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. "Well, thankfully your pretty hands can stay clean..." A tease in your voice as you moved closer, while his spit in your hand was...unexpectedly sweet and highly arousing, it wasn't quite enough as you gathered within your mouth and let it drool almost perfectly over the swollen head, your other hand swiping the remnants off your lips. You say his eyes, how wide they got, how dark the brown. He enjoyed that, which made you all the more wet. "You're really the first to really let me...show my skills like this. My other boyfriends...they never really let me play their cocks, so... No one else been touched by me like this."

That seemed...so insane to him. Eddie's brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what you just told him. Because there was no way... "Not once, not even... Fuck," the way your hand squeezed at his base, pressing against his stomach as your fingers went to caress his balls, using your spit to make them slick as well, and giving them attention, his hand turned into a fist with his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. "That... uh. Fuck. W h y ?"

You smirked, the flat of your palm moving toward his sacs, sliding up and down them. Slowly. Gently. "They thought I was a sweet girl..." The way he laughed, breathless and strained, brought a wicked smile to your face. "Even in the heat of the moment, they thought I was made a glass. Too pristine, too precious to get dirty." Your eyes looked toward his shaft, the way he was thick, veins so prominent, he was a good length too. Just slightly above average, not enough to scare someone, but enough to feel deep, deep enough to make you lose control hard and fast, and more than deep enough to gag. "I was too precious to have their cock in my throat, too...." Looking at him, your best attempt at doe eyes — not that you could compare with his — but it earned a chuckle from him, the hand on your thigh squeezing as he let out a groan.

"Princess..." He looked like he was struggling, trying to regain some sort of resolve, to hold back. The talk of being out here and getting caught, it was...definitely exciting and the fact that you weren't holding back... It was fine to indulge a bit, his plan was still to drag you into the back of his van at some point before things got too...intense. But the implications of your words struck him, the memory of your ex-boyfriend trying to rough him up with words and doubts on the two of you. It made him thoughtful, licking his lips before asking, "So... Not even with Cal?" Fingers stroking against the flesh of your inner thigh, sliding them over the fabric of your panties. "Never...sucked his cock, like at all?"

"Not even with Cal. He didn't think I was that type. And, honestly? I think, with Calvin... He was just embarrassed he wasn't as big and thick...as you are."

Ah, shit. You really knew how to work him, to stroke his pride and make him putty in your hands.That settled it. "What a fucking pussy. Get down here." The way you smiled then, eyes lighting up made his own do the same. Cupping your cheek, his fingers caressed your lips a moment, and you opened your mouth, making him shiver as two of his fingers slid inside that warm, wet mouth of yours. Shoving them deep, right where his rings touched against your lips. Your eyes soft, begging, the warmth of your tongue pressed against his fingers, it made him groan, sliding them in and out of you. There was a shiver that ran through you as well, a shock to your system that hit directly to your cunt, the ache growing. He pulled you to him, fingers leaving your mouth and lips crashing against his. The kiss hungry, gripping the back of your head, your hair, swallowing the whimper that flowed from you. How easily he could get you to whimper for him. To think your previous boyfriends wouldn't appreciate that? Wouldn't strive to make you moan and whimper like that on a daily basis? Fucking insane.

Crazier, still, was the confession that they wouldn't let you suck them off. That it was too dirty for you. The hand at the back of your head as his tongue roamed within your mouth, your taste so addicting and making his heart pitter patter and his cock twitch within your grasp still. Shit. His hand moved to grasp at your chin, reluctant but determined to give you what you wanted, pulling away and dazed brown eyes looked into yours, giving a soft peck at your cheek. He watched as your eyes closed, the way you adored his soft touches, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled against your cheek. You watched as he took another cautious look around, despite your words, not wanting to put you at a disadvantage of getting caught, still caring, still wanting the best for you, even if everyone else decided that didn't include Eddie Munson, the freak. You didn't see him that way, though. You were making that very clear to Eddie, to his utter fucking joy.

Licking your lips, the hunger gnawing at you from the inside, you placed your open palm at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. A prideful smile on his lips as he looked at you with adoration at you taking charge at the moment. Eddie leaned back, spreading his legs as you settled between them, lowering down on your stomach. Obliging as you tugged at his jeans, lowering them past his hips for better access. He watched you carefully, cock rigid, stiff, a light twitch as you still grasped him at his base, the head just an inch or so from your lips. It made you smile, of course, knowing he was eager for your mouth, he often always was, but to feel it so physically was something else altogether.

You take the moment to drink in the sight of his cock. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, of course, taking every opportunity you could manage. But you weren't bullshitting when you told him your past boyfriends thought appreciating their cocks like this was...not for you. Being far from a virgin, you've had sex before, as did Eddie, but never really taking the time to enjoy it. Always rushed, always something to get over with and taking you home or to the party, all to fall back on the image of being sweet and virginal, to lie. To play the part they so desperately wanted you to play. Far from it with Eddie, the first boy to not hold your wrists when you tried to undo his belt and simply allowed your hands to wander into his jeans. Always striving to be himself, he afforded you the same, in every aspect, he made you feel brave and accepting of yourself in ways no one else before him had.

That's what you loved about Eddie Munson, everyone calling him a freak for being himself. Maybe you were a freak, too, for loving that about him. And wanting a bit of that yourself. Indulging in these moments with him, seeing the beauty of his cock — and he had such a beautiful cock.

You squeezed him gently, and he let out a slow groan, mostly trapped at the back of his throat, but you heard it, still. He was thick, enough to give you a bit of a stretch when buried inside you, making sure that no one else would feel the same. Your fingertips glided along the underside of him, tracing along the veins, following toward his tip. They pulsed beneath your touch, his stomach rising and falling gently, your tongue, the tip of it, followed your fingertips' path, closing your eyes as the taste of his hardened flesh sparked to your senses. He had such a unique taste, you couldn't describe it, but it made you want more as your mouth slowly ascended to the heavy head, eyes opening to see the bead of precum, so pearly white and waiting.

His dark chocolate colored eyes met yours, looking at you so pleadingly. His eyes could make you do anything, he didn't even have to ask. But the words, "Please, baby..." came in just a gentle whisper, and before you knew it, your tongue swirled along the tip, taking the taste of him onto your tongue and you heard him let out a groan. A shiver running through him that made him utter your name as if a thankful prayer to God. "Thank you," he said, and without even putting thought to it, your lips wrapped around him, his body shivering, a warmth running through him and a shaky breath shot out his lips. Tilting his head back, the feel of your mouth hot, wet, sucking him so greedily it made his head spin. "Baby... Sweetheart... F u c k."

"Mmm..." His taste grabbed at you, consuming you into wanting more. You love the way he felt, even just his head, inside your mouth. Loved the way he seemed so lost when wrapped around your mouth. Your name never sounded so ethereal than when he moaned it out like that. Mouth watering, a hand grasping at his thigh as you worked to get more of him inside you. Slowly at first, moving up and down, feeling the way he throbbed and hearing a curse from his lips. He felt heavy on your tongue, pressing the flat of it against the underside of him. Each time moving down, taking an inch here, there, not minding to gag, but you wanted to savor it. Eddie often worried if you gagged too much, tempted to pull you off, but not wanting that now. Wanting to show how good you could be for him. Feeling your mouth dripping onto him, trails of wetness sliding down his length, your mouth feeling full, yet not quite there, yet.

His hands came to your head, fingers brushing through your hair and holding them tight at the back of your head. Out of the way, for your comfort and selfishly, to see the sight of his cock slowly filling your mouth. "Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his eyes half lidded, wanting to close, begging close with how good it felt, your determination to take all of him so fucking adorable to him. Your little moans when you go down making him twitch inside you, letting out a soft hiss the more you take him, the tighter you feel. Making him want your pussy, to buried deep inside, to make you feel as good as you were making him feel... But then he catches how you squeeze your thighs together, and it makes him smile. "You're doing... Ah, fuck, so good for me, Princess... You won't stop, will you? Not until... Shit, not until..."

His words unfinished as you couldn't help but quicken your movements, lust clouding every movement and decision. You wanted more of him so you were going to get more of him. Feeling your cunt wet, walls squeezing around nothing and wishing he was inside you, squeezing your thighs together instead, moaning around his cock as his tip drew closer and closer to the back of your throat. Every throb of him was encouraging, loving how he felt so alive inside you. Such a wet mess, feeling your mouth water and drenching his length, moving your head faster, the more you could hear it, but you didn't care. Not when you were so close, because he was right, you wouldn't stop, not until — and you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the moment hit, just as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you stilled. And he gave a strained cry, not seeing how he closed his eyes and cursed into the air. But you moaned, feeling your throat constrict around him, gagging, so obscenely, but not caring.

"Baby, baby, you did it, you did it, fuck, you did it," his words rushed and feverish. The sounds you made driving him crazy, enough to buck his hips, fucking into your mouth. Forcing his eyes to open, staring at you with a soft little whine, seeing you start to move your head again, bobbing up and down his cock and filling your mouth over and over, groaning deep as he hit the back of your throat again and again, the wet sound filling his ears. "...open, open your eyes, please, please, open... There you are," he smiled, a soft little laugh escaping him as your eyes opened, "My sweet fucking girl..." His other hand grasped at your cheek, shaking his head as he saw your eyes almost close again, "No, no, no, don't..." Another hiss coming from him, continuing to meet your mouth with his thrusts, a gag from you squeezing him just right that had him throbbing, a sharp shiver run through him. "Keep your eyes on me, alright? Yeah?" You nodded, prompting him to let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Good girl..."

God, you wished he hadn't demanded you keep your eyes open, because the sound of that, of him calling you that, made you want to close your eyes as you let out a deep seated moan, vibrations of your mouth cascading over his cock. His lips parted as panted breaths huffed their way out of him, but eyes were on each other, sinking your mouth down onto him. His hand moved from your cheek then, grasping lightly around your throat and you really wished you could close your eyes, then. His finger and thumb squeezed along the sides of your neck and sending you into a dizzying spiral that sent your movements into overdrive, the hand at his base lowered, grasping at his balls, rubbing and giving them attention as you felt yourself choking on his cock. You were wet, soaking, aching between your legs. Your eyes glistening and hand splayed at his stomach, scratching along his happy trail, but looking at him.

With the work of your hand earlier and now, the work of your mouth? You were wrecking Eddie in a way only you could. His cock couldn't sit still, twitching, pulsing so deep into your mouth. His chest heaving, feeling his stomach clenching, a fire slowly building toward a white hot burning he didn't know whether to stay away to make it last or just run toward it. "Jesus fuck, you feel so..." He should probably say something sexy, or... Withholding? Something... Oh, the fuck he knew. "Oh, baby you feel so good... You're doing so —" A withering moan leaving him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes, a deep shudder running through his body, tensing, he was close.

As if you sensed it, you lifted your mouth off him with the loudest sounding pop either of you had heard, and to your delight, a thick thread of spit connected your mouth to his cock, watching as the heavy flesh fell on his stomach and he gave a relieved groan. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered softly, squeezing his fingers around your hair. Sliding your tongue along his underside, he was cursing once more as you only moved your lips to his sack, taking it into your mouth and sucking him hard that made his body jerk toward you. An out of breath laugh escaping him, licking his lips, opening his eyes to look at you. "I'm serious, if you did this with anyone else.... I wanna fight them. I'd lose, but sweetheart..." Oh, your hand was stroking him again, a wrangled cry leaving him, lips trembling, that fire burning him from the inside, the faster your hand went, feeling the pulse of his cock in his ears. "I'm gonna fight 'em, I'm gonna.... Every fucking one. Every... Jesus H. Christ, you just.... Just gotta, mm," how did his hips started jerking to your hand? The fuck he knew, but it felt good. "...gotta....gotta take came of me after... Please, please, please, please."

Letting your mouth release him, your hand moving to his waist, lips stretched in a smile as they ghosted over his cock, lapping against the ridge of his cock before sucking him gently along the swollen head. The sounds of his moans encourage you to stroke your hand up and down the throbbing length, taking his head in and out of your hungry mouth. You're ravenous with him, insatiable, even. You can't get enough, sometimes not even at school and you have to beg him to take you to the back of his van. He always gives in, now that he thinks about it, in between the mercy of your lips, your tongue, your mouth descending on him once more. Fuck, he felt so good so deep in your mouth, your throat, hand squeezing at his balls. Rubbing against him, making him shut his eyes. "F u c k !" he cried out, wavering, panting.

You weren't going to let up, the both of you realized, it wasn't a conscious decision on your part and all Eddie could do was take it, enjoy it, fall deeper and deeper into the fucking bliss of you. You were moaning, your eyes closed as you fell into the rhythm of sucking him off, fucking your throat on his cock, you had meant what you said — you weren't innocent. Not how they all viewed you as. "Oh, baby," his words slurring out, jaw tightened and teeth grit together as he seethed. Your name flew from his lips like a prayer — for his sanity. He was throbbing so much in your mouth... Hitting the back of your throat so perfectly, his hips started to jerk towards you. "Fuck, fuck fuck, you're so fucking perfect." His grip on your hair so tight, taking the hint, stilling your movements as his hips took over, bucking into your mouth. Gagging on him with every fierce thrust. Your nails digging into his stomach, making their mark and a strangled moan ripped out of him. "—so perfect. Like this... Like this, so... So fucking... Jesus fucking...Christ, I'm... You're just... Fuck, that's..."

His hips picking up speed, harder and harder as you looked over at him. At his face, seeing the sweat, the concentrated look on him. He looked beautiful like that, lost in the pleasure and it made your cunt throb knowing it was because of you. Making you moan louder, the sound of spit drenching his cock hitting your ears, dripping, chin slick. Always having to be perfect, hair just right, make up perfect, it felt so liberating to let go, to be a mess, and Eddie was the one that let you do so. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly...

And with one strangled moan from him, one hard thrust that filled your mouth to the brim, he did. Followed by another, and another, every moan louder, every thrust harder, his body tensing so much, feeling his insides on fire and his cock? Fuck. White hot pleasure, making him whine, even whimper. You felt so good, so fucking good, and he was sure he said so, in a rush of praises that fell from his lips, all words slurring together like he was drunk. And in a way, he was. Of you, and only you. Cock pulsing, twitching as the tip was just inside your throat, you felt his hand around your neck again. A light little squeeze as your eyes looked up, he was lost, of course, eyes closed but you still didn't take your eyes away. He felt thick and warm, erupting in shuddering waves right to your throat that you swallowed immediately. Loving how it felt, sliding down your throat. He was the one to cum, and so much, but you were the one that couldn't help but moan, feeling your cunt throb and clench, moving your head up and down slowly.

His words had died and he was left moaning, twitching inside your mouth, every movement, he felt himself spilling so fiercely. You loved it, loved it every time and that in itself made him groan as dark brown eyes looked down on you. ".....princess," he uttered so out of breath, you only moaned, sucking at his tip and hand twisted up and down the slick shaft, working him through his climax, hips jerking toward your mouth once more in short little movements. Sensitivity playing its part, it felt good, feeling you so desperate for every drop of him. There were moments where you genuinely craved the taste of him, something so unique. He tasted bitter, at first, but after a while, there was a sweetness to him as well, growing such an appreciation for both you could never really get enough, only when you felt him shake harder than before did you lift your head away, lips leaving him with a wet pop once more and let go, watching as his heavy, thick length fell onto his stomach, pulsing, twitching right there.

You swallowed the remains of him, sticking out your tongue to show him, both chuckling out of breath as you give the underside of his cock one last kiss. "Come here..." he whispered, still feeling the burn course through him, the fire you caused still wrecking havoc through him. You obeyed, of course, moving up on him and lips immediately on one another. His hand was still at your neck, and he squeezed gently once more, a joined moan from you both, shared between panting mouths and another from him as he tasted himself off your tongue. You were a mess, his tongue sliding from your mouth to across your lips, licking the spit that adorned your chin, jaw, nipping the skin gently.

"You don't have to fight anyone, you know..." you uttered softly. Watching as he pulled back, looking quizzically at you, you smiled. "No one else... I mean, when it comes to sucking someone off, you're... You're kind of the first. So, you're the only one that's experienced what my mouth could do like that."

The way his smile widened shouldn't be as cute as it was, the way his eyes lit up, "Shit. Really? Fuck. I mean, that's sad, sweetheart, because that?" He shook his head, kissing you deep, "Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his hand at your throat lowering, sliding over your breasts, towards your stomach and hips. Hiking your dress up above your hips, "Did I taste good?"

"Mmhm," you let out softly, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver against your heated skin as his hand slid along your inner thigh. "You always taste good to me."

"Yeah?" his breath heavy, turning to kiss at your neck. "You're always so eager... I bet you're wet, huh? Aching? First pretty girl I've met to get turned on sucking my cock, princess." And as he moved his hand between your legs, he chuckled softly, grinning against your flesh as you let out a soft moan, his fingers finding the wet spot of the panties you wore and he let out a hiss. "Oh, baby, you're soaked... Jesus fucking christ, that's hot. All for me?" He didn't need an answer, palming his hand against your soaked, clothed cunt. "Yeah, all for me." Your hips started to move against his hand, making him groan as he stilled it, letting you grind against it, feeling his hand grow slick, your soft little moans making him fucking feral.

You knew it made you look desperate, shameless, even. But Eddie never made you feel embarrassed for wanting him, being desperate for him to make you cum. He seemed to thrive on it, just like making him cum did for you. Making you want to try different things, be adventurous when it came to sex. You never felt ashamed for wanting to cum, for having that need, and you fucking loved him for it. You felt him kiss your neck more, his other hand holding you around your waist, wet, sloppy kisses that only made you more needy for him. He was right — blowing him had the effect of making your cunt soppy and so heated, the first few times you thought it was a bad thing. That there was something wrong with being so turned on pleasing someone else. But every moan he gave, every slurred word, it hit you right at your core and your body was helpless.

But he made you see it as a turn on for him as well, making him feel needed, that you enjoyed making him cum that much. Then you started to enjoy it, any ounce of shame evaporated each time you were together. His lips found their way to yours again, cupping his cheek as you kissed him, swallowing his groan, he was so vocal after he came and that was definitely part of why you liked making him cum. More affectionate, feeling the flat of his palm stroke your back. His hand, still between your legs moved, making him swallow your protesting whimper. He breathed a chuckle into your mouth, giving you one more full formed kiss before pulling back and fingers grasped the waistband of your panties, starting to tug them down.

"Mmm—"

"—hmm?"

A soft chuckle coming out of you, seeing his teasing grin, "I thought you were worried about us getting caught, out here in the open?" You saw as he bit his lip, his eyes a bit darker than they were before. "Or, does that only apply to me?"

Eddie let out a soft groan, pecking at your lips with gentle kisses, "'Course not. I still worry about you getting caught. But," he let out a sigh, his fingers continuing to pull your panties lower, as best as he could. "Sweetheart, that was before you made me cum in your mouth," his teeth flashing with his grin. Growing wider at the sound of your laughing, chuckling himself as you buried your face at the crook of his neck. Humming softly as he kissed your shoulder. "I just —" He took in a deep breath, "—I'm nice and relaxed now to worry too much about it?" Pulling back as you looked up at him with the prettiest smile he's seen so far. "Yeah, I don't want you seen or walked in on or get in trouble, not so much me, they expect it from me, but you, no, absolutely not."

"I think I've proven that I'm not the sweet, innocent girl people think I am, though..." You remind him, feeling fit to remind him again and again if that's what it took — and yes, out of your own pleasure as well.

The laugh he gave was deep, his eyes warm, raising his thumb to brush against your swollen bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you did." Nodding with his brows raised, he repeated, "You did. But, I still don't want your pretty wrists in handcuffs, well, okay, handcuffs not by my hand, or dragging me off you because I would fight if it meant holding onto you a bit longer." You hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against yours in yet another kiss — as if he could ever stop. "But saying that..." A deep breath taken, dark brown eyes looking to you. "...I'm feeling...a bit adventurous. You're making me want to take all sorts of risks, princess..."

It was too good, grinning up at him, you couldn't help it. "Am I ruining you?"

That grin hadn't left him, white teeth a permanent fixture on him at that moment. "Y e a h, God, y e a h," he chuckled, kissing your lips hard, letting out a breath hot against your lips. "You're such a bad influence... You're ruining the fuck outta me. So mean and scary... I'm very into that..."

"Mmm, what a sweet boy you are..." your teasing words said with a caress of his lips against yours. Hearing him hum, it almost sounding like a whine made your heart flutter. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slightly but not enough, not without your assisting him with it. "And...what risks did you wanna take now, pretty boy?" Wanting to hear him say it, needing to hear him say it...

He knew you needed to hear it, too. Letting out a soft growl, eyes darkened, smile stretched and turned wicked. His hand finally pushed your panties as far as he could manage, needing you to do away with them the rest of the way. That was the word, he needed it. Licking his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip for good measure, he gave such a wolfish smile. "You... On my face. Letting me taste and feel how messy you are, just because you love my cock, sweetheart." He moved back, laying further on the ground while his eyes didn't leave yours. Seeing your eyes darken and how hard you swallowed. Your body growing tense, and he swore, he could feel you grow hot. "And yeah, out here in the open, where anyone could walk by and see, and hear us. Making me forget and not care about the consequences of that... But I need it. I need you."

Every word he uttered, your eyes couldn't help but fall on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice traveling through you, hitting between your legs and making you throb. You nod, the words, I need you, too, just at the tip of your tongue but failed to slip off and into the air. Instead, it was said with the fierce kiss you laid on his lips, feeling a shudder run through you both. The slight feel of his cock, giving a twitch against your hip. He let out a groan as you pulled away, continuing where he left off. Feeling how wet you truly were, the fabric clinging to your soaked folds as you pulled them away, smiling over at him, knowing he would have enjoyed seeing it with his own eyes and in full view. But, you supposed, draping them over his cock would be the next best thing. Evident by the way he twitched under it once more, shared smiles between you both.

"C'mere...." he nearly whispered, watching as you moved toward him. The thin strap of your dress slid down your shoulder, reminding him that you had no bra underneath, that the dress was all that covered you and that was something he'd keep in mind. But, for now, as you moved toward him, taking care to not let your knees rest on his hair, pulling it back with one hand as your other hiked up your dress. His eyes almost twinkling at the sight of your bare cunt, a proud little hum flowing through him as his hands smoothed over your inner thighs. "F u c k," his words in a hushed whisper, as if more to himself than to you. His lips twitching in a smile, you can feel the fluttering in your stomach because of it, because he has that smile because of you. His tongue swiped across his lips, eyes still drinking you in. "Can't believe you get this wet for me, princess..." The way you glistened, he hadn't even touched you, no, this was because you were getting him off and that brought out a smile out of him. His fingers inching toward you, feeling you shudder under his touch. The drag of the metal rings against your skin, feeling yourself growing hot. You needed him. You needed him.

His fingers were mere inches from your folds, yet still, he looked up at you, brows furrowing, and you knew he was asking permission. You nodded, slowly, biting your lip and preparing yourself for his touch. It comes slow, at first. Delicate little traces along your folds, toying with the wetness, swallowing hard as fingers move back and forth, dipping along the wet flesh, drenching his fingertips in your heated mess. His eyes mesmerized by it, the feel of you shooting right through him and to his cock. Pulsing. Twitching. As if to thank you, he moves to kiss your hip, biting you gently there that makes you gasp softly. It made him smile, fingers now slick moving toward your clit. Slowly. Gently. Two fingers sliding over, making your hips jerk immediately with a soft sound from your lips.

You were so cute, he thought. Grinning against your hip, still, swirling those fingers against you, smooth circles, you felt like silk underneath his calloused fingers. Sending sharp shivers through you, closing your eyes as your breathing hitched, his tongue licking against the flesh of your hip now, his hot breath followed as he continued his ministrations. His fingers drove you crazy, yours were too soft, as were your past boyfriends, so soft, but his were rough, not clumsy, but skilled, playing you as he did his guitar. The feel of his teeth added to it, as he bit you with a groan. Your breath panting, hips moving so gently against his fingers, his movements slow, making you want more. As if he sensed it, his fingers started to pick up. Not too much, sliding back and forth, your slick helping in the smooth motions as he kissed your hip more, letting his lips glide against your skin, toward your stomach. Hearing your soft panting pick up as well, a soft groan against your stomach now. He loved to hear your moans... —

"E d d i e," you let out, in a warning or plea, you honestly weren't sure. But he smiled against your stomach either way, the soft breath of his chuckle hitting you, lifting his eyes to see that pout on your face. Adorable. Biting at your skin, feeling you shudder in his embrace as his hand moved. Slick fingers gliding from your clit and through your folds, a deep hum vibrating against your stomach. You could feel your walls clench in anticipation, your teeth biting your bottom lip and eyes closed. His fingers finding your opening, sinking them into you — slowly, as a growl settled from his lips — "Ah..." the word came from your lips, delicate, uneven. Feeling the stretch of his thick fingers, as if your cunt as impatient as you were getting, drawing his fingers deeper. "Shit..."

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the words said with a deep chuckle, almost dark, just as was the shade of his brown eyes as he looked up at you, a lustful gaze burning just for you. Gazes connect, though it was growing difficult, keeping your eyes on him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. Walls clenched around him so tightly, as if embracing him. As if it hadn't been only a day since he filled you with his fingers and cock. Every gentle thrust sending a wave through you, a panting breath, a soft little moan. He was going to be hard for you, again, he knew, though he wanted to take his sweet time. Draw out the orgasm from you slowly, or until he lost control like he so often did. With a groan, he laid his head back, drawing your hips a bit closer, darkened eyes looking down your body, right where his fingers disappeared inside you. Cock twitching, pulsing to life. You shouldn't affect him like this, but you do, seeing how your stomach clenched the deeper his fingers went, burying them knuckle deep and curving them.

There was a low rumble, though it felt distant to you both. His eyes transfixed by your cunt, feeling you so tight around him, how wet and heated, tongue poking out, licking his bottom lip. You wished you could take your dress off, the feel of him inside you making your skin heat up, chest heaving with quickened breath. Pleasure, the kind only he brought out, swept right through you, getting lost in it so much that the thought of someone seeing you just slipped away from you. Your own hand moving forward, grasping his curls at the top of his head and clutched tightly. Just to have something to anchor you to reality, feeling you'd float away as his fingers continued to stroke themselves along your clenched walls, your moans a little louder each time, entangled with your panting breath. If your eyes were open, you'd see a flash of white light, though all you could hear was the sound of your sopping cunt drench his fingers, a smile on your face as a soft cry escaped you, body shaking at the feel of his calloused thumb swipe across your clit, bending forward as he kept doing it. "F u c k, Eddie..."

You couldn't see how he smiled, a mix of awe and wickedness. Dark brown eyes trained on your cunt, seeing his fingers at work. You really were...so beautiful like this. Every sound you make made his heart swell with pride. Calvin couldn't do this. According to you, that meathead wouldn't dare. He curved his fingers inside you more, looking for that spot, that precious that made you — There it was, your cries louder and your fingers pulled at his hair that made him groan in appreciation. "Shit!," you cried out, red hot, feeling your body pulse, thighs beginning to shake, and he only pressed and rubbed against it more, your jaw tensed, "Oh God, that... Shit.." You both could hear the wet friction of his movements. "That's...." Your words halted as his thumb picked up speed against your clit, movements quick, and wet, so fucking wet and the most primal sounds poured out of your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't..."

"I won't stop, sweetheart..." came his voice, to your utter relief. You nodded, feeling his hand at the back of your hips, pulling you closer. Looking at you like this, moaning and wet around his fingers, the feel of you so tight around him the deeper he was inside you. The moans spilling from your lips weren't the only primal thing between you, his mind going hazy, the need for your taste growing until he brought you close enough to slip his fingers out of you, growling at the feel of your cunt so reluctant to feel him go, clinging to him to the last second. "I know, baby, I know, but I just gotta..." he groaned, hands splayed at your thighs and with encouragement, pressed the sweet, messy cunt against his mouth. Hearing your shaky breath, he hummed, first kissing your clit and tongue slid out, the flat of it sliding across it. His fingers tightening along your flesh, a gasp from your lips. He moaned, breathing heavy against you, the tip of his tongue circling along your clit, then, encouraging you to move, allowing his tongue to move between your folds, taste some of the mess that he caused. And it was the sweetest mess he's tasted of you so far.

You've never had someone so eager to taste you like this, it made sense, since you were always so eager to use your mouth on him. It was a delightful give and take between the two of you, and now he was certainly taking. You closed your eyes to the darkening sky, ignored the shiver of the cold, how could you take notice when his tongue trailed closer towards your hole, pulling you closer upon his face and you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your clit as the tip of his tongue push into you. A shaky breath seeped from you, causing your hips to rock gently against him, pushing him further inside. Feeling his tongue stiffen, the vibration of his moan traveling up against you. Every gentle rock of your hips has his nose moving against your clit, bring about gentle waves of pleasure to course through you, making you feel heat, warming you to the touch.

Eddie did like you like this, coherent thought leaving your head and only to react to what his actions were doing to you. He was the same, and fuck, you tasted sweeter the deeper his tongue was inside you. His name kept falling from your lips, strained, each time causing his cock to throb and a moan pressed against your pretty little cunt. He's admit, he'd not had a lot of experience, not a lot of girls, at the very least to the point of maybe having to exaggerate here and there with his friends, but your pussy? Your cunt? The prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen, shivers running up and down his spine as you rocked it against his tongue, his mouth, your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly made him groan. Gripping you tightly as he slid his tongue in and out of you just a little faster. So soft and wet, tasting you, fuck, how sweet you were.

You were driving him crazy, and he was doing the same to you. Pleasure gripping at you, tightly, clawing at your insides as you started to pant and moan. He was reluctant to pull away, a small cry leaving your lips, desperate for more, but it was short lived as his tongue trailed to your clit once more. Lapping against it, flickering over it quickly and another cry left your lips — this time of relief. "Jesus fuck—" tumbled from your lips, his dark eyes on you as your eyes were closed, forgetting the world, just him, just his tongue, and as the cold metal of his rings traveled further up your thighs and you felt yourself tensing with anticipation.

He didn't make you wait long, you were so wet, so slick, there was hardly any resistance when he buried two of his thick fingers inside you. "God, f u c k, yes..." you panted out, thighs quivering as he curled his fingers as his mouth captured and sucked sloppily on your clit, reaching, caressing that special spot that made your hips jerk forward, a cry erupting from your lips. Feeling his ringed fingers inside you, slowly sliding in and out of you, your wetness claiming them and the pressure on your clit as he sucked grew stronger. "Fuck... F u c k, Eddie, Eddie..." your voice whined, as he moaned, his other hand moving, smacking against the flesh of your ass and gripped you there. Nodding wordlessly as he let go of your clit, stiffened his tongue against it, and you slowly started to move your hips again. His fingers stilled as well, sliding in and out of you through your movements alone, moving deeper, faster as your moans fell from your lips at the feeling of him deep inside you, angling to hit you there, rubbing your clit against his tongue as well. Fucking yourself on him, showing him how desperate you were becoming, just for him. You both loved that.

He wished he could grip himself, stroke his cock to you, but his eyes were hazy, watching your face as you moved, led by desire and lust. You were so fucking perfect, he moaned against your cunt, once in a while flicking his tongue over that bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against him. Curling his fingers a bit more, stroking the insides of your walls clenching around his digits so tightly. "Such a perfect fucking pussy..." he breathed hotly against you, moaning as he sucked and sucked, feeling you tremble at his words. His girl loved to be praised, he thought with a smile. "Don't hold back, baby..." he breathed, taking a moment to raise his mouth at your hip, biting hard at the flesh, hoping to leaving a mark, praying to leave a mark. "I want you to cum, I want you to cum so bad."

You were close, especially as his other hand slid forward and gave attention to your clit, "Oh, fuck," you practically growled, not only feeling his fingers inside you, but not to your throbbing clit, the joint pleasure of it, concentrating on moving against his fingers inside you, body trembling as he added a third finger, you were sure you were going to come undone. Body tightly wound, succumbing to the waves he was giving you, this time, you did hear the thunder, eyes opening wide as you caught a flash of light hit across the sky. "Shit," you let out, jaw slack as his fingers picked up, thrusting in and out of you harder, making you gasp and pant. "N—oh, fuck, Eddie... Shit... Fuck," moans strangled within a laugh you wanted to let go. "It's...." Words were failing you, grasping at the back of his head, for a moment only hearing your own wetness ring out, coating his fingers, "Ed—Eddie, it's... Jesus fuck, that feels..."

He was lost in it, as were you, the sounds of your cries seeping from your lips so seamlessly, one after the other, was his only concern, even with the first few raindrops. You didn't feel the cold, just the white hot heat that was coursing through you, eyes closing once more, body stilling and growing tense. "Yes, yes, fucking christ," the rain was gentle at first, a light drizzle, easy to ignore. At first, anyway. But his fingers continued, his teeth biting at your hip getting harder, a fine mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, making you let out a loud whimper. Your fingers squeeze along his hair tighter, as his lips trail back to your clit, steadily flicking his tongue over it, humming deep against you. Giving you the jolt of pleasure you apparently needed, your hips moving, soon enough riding his tongue as he kept it still.

The rain started to pick up, raining down harder the more deep into it the two of you became, closer to unraveling you were. Dripping over his mouth, his fingers, feeling his free hand stroking the bare flesh of your ass. You could feel your hair and that dress getting wet, starting to weigh you down, a shiver running through you but not knowing if it was because of the rain or Eddie's tongue, or the way his finger curled and hit you just right, making you shut your eyes and let out a cry. Your body shuddered, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Did he know it was raining? He didn't let up. You could hear him moaning, stilling your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard and unforgiving, bringing out the most primal sounds from your lips. The sound of thunder drowning it out for the most part, gripping his hair, an attempt to pull him away. "Eddie... Eddie, the rain, I... Shit... The rain..."

But you only felt the clap of his hand against your ass, hard, a warning, letting out a gasp as you looked down. Dark brown eyes staring up at you. A whine left you, as he furrowed his brow. Understood, biting your lip and you give a nod. Starting to let go, his hands gripped where he held you, tongue flickering against you, catching your taste as you moaned helplessly. Breathless. Louder. Your walls clenching around his fingers as he buried them deep. That little spot. That perfect little spot. "Oh, god, oh...fuck, yes, right there..." Each breath you let out sounding shaky, him growling, feeling your thighs start to shake. That was the only movement he let you have, kissing against your clit sloppily. The pads of his fingertips stroking along that spot, feeling your body tense up each time, stilling your hips as it wanted to jolt at every stroke.

He knew it was raining, he did, it was hard not to. But was harder was for him to stop, his mind a haze with every sound of your moan. Every squeeze of his fingers, every taste his tongue could find. He was going to make you cum.

He was going to make you cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groaned, panting for breath in the heavy rain, it pouring down at the both of you. Some of the rain dropped onto your tongue, crisp and clear, yet you could still hear yourself, even with the thunder, the flash of lightning behind your closed eyes. How wet you were for him, as he pumped his fingers harder into you, stroking his fingers inside you, harder and harder, tongue matching the pace as good as he could. The vibrations of his groans, hums, making you a moaning mess, crying out with every release of your breath. "There, there, there, fuck, you shouldn't be so good at that, you should be so good—shit, shit, there, fuck, yes—!" You couldn't help it, feeling yourself bend forward, over his head and grasping at the wet grass. You were cumming. Words escaping you, sneaking up on you so suddenly, not able to tell him, but fuck if he knew.

Thrusting his fingers faster, making you scream into the wet ground, your lips finding the top of your wrist and biting down. The build up so sweet, so painful, so needed, when you came it was hard and fast, a whimpering cry coming from you, your walls squeezing around his fingers thrust so deep inside you, as if embracing him in thanks. He groaned, kissing your clit, your inner thigh and biting you there, making your hips jolt slightly. "Good girl," he let out, making you want to cry. "You're such a fucking good girl, princess..." You hissed softly, whining when you felt his fingers stroke you still, but gently, slowly, working you until you could gather yourself, your body spent but still eager for more, moving against him until he slowly withdrew them.

He gave your hip a gentle kiss before slipping out from behind you, letting you lay in your stomach a moment. Your mind was in a wet haze, the cold water raining down making you shiver against your heated body. He stayed close, one hand stroking your ass while the other reached toward your face, still slick and coated with your sweetness, it didn't take much from you to wrap your lips around them, greedily, deep into your mouth, humming at the taste of yourself on them — mixed with the rain. It made him smile, nice and wide as he bent over and kissed the crook of your neck. "God, that's my girl," he muttered against your ear, you letting out a hum. Still blissed out, but responsive. His now free hand grasping your hip, bare and wet, you both were at this point. Squeezing your hip, he kissed below your ear, looking at the van. "We can get back at the van. I got blankets, we can—" But you let out a huff, turning around and capturing his lips in a kiss that took his breath away. "Baby..."

It wasn't smart, or logical, his proposition was actually kind of nice. You knew he had a mattress as well, for when he wanted to be alone, and recently, those included being alone with you. But the adrenaline was still coursing through you, still feeling good because of him. "Fuck me..." you whispered against his lips, and he growled, his grip on you tightening. His cock hard from watching you come undone just mere moments before. You could still feel your clit pulsing, a bit of sensitivity to be had. But you didn't care. You wanted him. Needed him. "Right here... Fuck me..."

Jesus Christ.

He should say no, that it was still risky, but that same adrenaline that ran through you was running through him. "My princess wants to get fucked in the rain?" You had nodded, pulling him in for another kiss, returning it in full. Shit. It was something he hadn't done before, in the rain, out in public. It was....enticing enough, but now, he just needed to be inside you. Feel you close, make you feel good. His mind a mess, as he was sure yours was too, he ended the kiss, trailing his lips over the curve of your neck, fingers raised to pull down the straps of your dress. You didn't have a bra. He remembered that, watching as you lifted yourself and your dress peeled down your body, turning to face him and watched as your breasts came into view. "Jesus...fucking... Christ," he growled, watching in time as your lips came to his again.

You felt cold, yet it was his warmth that sustained you, the wet fabric of your dress around your waist, settling yourself between his legs as he sat on the ground. You were tired before, the strength of your climax taking a lot out of you. But the thought of him inside you drove you forward, tongue sliding into his waiting mouth as you settled onto him. His hands reaching toward your hips, resting at the back of your thighs. Gripping you tightly, his hum swallowed by you in your kiss. He pulled your hips forward, the slick of your folds sliding along the underside of his hardened cock, resting against his stomach, brought a gasp from you both. You felt warm, heated and wet, even as the cold rain poured down on you both. You could feel the veins of his cock just slightly, as one movement of your hips turned to another, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. You had no business feeling this good, he thought. Making him groan and grunt as his hands were no longer needed, sliding them away from you as your hips continued, your folds parted and grinding against his cock.

It was a teasing movement, but he just couldn't stop, not yet, as heated breaths were shared between you two. He felt so good, too. You pressed down against him, movements first short and teasing, now longer, languid in their movements, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as the head of his cock met and rubbed against your clit. He liked how you shuddered each time, how soft your moan was against his lips, soft and needy, making his heart race. His hands gripping at the grass below him, leaning back slightly and letting you take over. "You're like a fucking Angel, Sweetheart," he muttered, a soft whine from your lips following, as you went faster. It was his turn to shudder, falling deeper into what you were doing to him.

With the rain, it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, for the both of you, leading one another with touch alone. The throb of his cock meeting the throb of your clit, you let out a soft whimper, feeling your pussy ache, walls clenching around nothing. He felt good, clit pulsing and sending shocks of pleasure through you... But it wasn't enough. Your hands raising from his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling fingers into his hair as you kissed him deep, a joined moan between you. "I need you inside me, baby..." you whined against his mouth, a whimper coming from him. "Please? Please, Eddie, baby, please..."

A soft chuckle rolls out from him, "Fuck, love it when you call me baby like that..." How could he refuse? Releasing his grip on the grass, hands dirty as he moved over to your body, wet and slick with the rain, turning his lips to the side of your neck, giving a hard bite and a kiss. Your lips by his ear, humming as you let out a groan at the bite, his hands just touching your skin, feeling oddly warm against his touch. "Tell me you want it, princess... Tell me how bad you want it..."

You hissed, desperate, pleading, trying to move your hips but his hands gripped them suddenly, making you still. A pitiful sound coming out of you, chest rising and falling in short huffs. "I want it..." He tutted, and you knew that wasn't good enough, squirming in his grip. "...I want your cock, Eddie..." He took a deep breath, and you knew that was better. "I want your cock so bad inside me... Deep..." He let out a soft moan, kissing your neck again, making you shiver. "I want it so deep it hurts. Cunt aching for you... I need you. I want you."

Your words were sweet to his ears, enough for his cock to pulse and throb, wanting your sweet cunt as well. "Fuck..." he breathed out, tongue sliding along the pulse of your neck and sucking on it hard. Wanting a mark to appear the next day, grasping the base of his cock. "Such a good girl...." The tip of him sliding back and forth against your folds, and he could hear the gasp against his ear so crisply, even with the sound of the hard water raining down. He dreamed of your moans, your gasps, your cries, making him wake up harder than he ever had been before you. "I'm gonna give my baby what she wants... Will that make my baby girl happy?"

"Mmhm," you let out, pathetically, gripping his hair tighter, your breath hitched in the anticipation of it. Your legs spreading further, the thoughts of before, of being caught, you almost wished they did. That Cal did. Every one of your snobby friends that ditched you, that only cared when you wanted to be who they wanted you to be. To be with who they deemed worthy. You wanted them to see how happy Eddie God Damn Munson made you feel... Feeling the tip of him right at your opening, a soft huff leaving your lips, his bite on your neck adding to the feel of you sinking down on his cock. Feeling the vibrations of his groan against your neck, your breath hitching as you take him slowly. Thick. Bigger. It was always a stretch the first time he sinks into you.

You're tight for him, driving him hazy and lustful, his cock throbbing already and he'd only have his tip inside you. "Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart..." he breathed against your neck, a whining brought out from you. His hands at your hips, only to be swatted away from your hands. It made him smile, a soft little laugh escaping as he pulled away from you, wanting to take control but knowing you were a determined little thing. Stubborn. He fucking loved that about you. "Okay, baby, okay..." he assured you, once again taking his hands off and leaning slightly back, your hands gripping at his wet shirt. Nodding toward you, he hummed, "All you, princess. Take every single inch... My cock is so fucking yours..."

There was a light giddiness at his words, giving a determined nod, your hand going toward one of your thighs, bracing yourself, as you continued to sink down on this length. "Fuck..." you let out, more to yourself than anything, every inch bringing a stretch inside you, feeling him shudder, feeling him pulse as your walls stretched to fit him, clenching so tightly as well. "Oh, God..." He always left you breathless, this time no different, and he watched you in awe — well, watched your pussy in awe, he should say. Swallowing hard, water dripping down his nose, watching, appreciating, groaning as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into you. So wet and warm. And Eddie, so hard and thick, your slickness coating him the further he went, and you were doing good, so good. Panting, whimpering slightly. "Eddie, you feel...so good, fuck... Baby... Baby..."

"...you're... Oh, fuck, you're doing so good..." he encouraged you, thunder rolling in, though it was definitely in the back of his mind. "Wanna fuck up into you already, so bad..." And god, he did, the feel of you so perfect. Better than he thought he deserved. "But baby, you can do it... God, you can fucking do it. I believe in you. Princess you always take me so perfectly... Shit. Keep going, sweetheart. Be my good girl, alright? Be my good—"

His words cut off, pushing through his words, a cry wrangled from both of you, your eyes shut tight. You did it. His good girl did it. And there was a sense of pride, feeling so fucking full of him, every inch, all of his girth, settled deep and entirely inside you. Rewarded with the feel of his hands at your hips, his eyes remained open, looking to the bliss expression on your face. No one's ever made him feel this good. so hot, so wet, so tight around him. "That's it... That's fucking..." He groaned, his voice lightly strained, pecking at your cheek as you let out a moan. Impatient already, feeling your move against him, entranced with the feel of his swollen head at the deepest part of you, that special place that no one else had touched. Not even by your own fingers. Only Eddie. And he knew it, the way you bit your bottom lip, moving back and forth, a teasing touch against that very spot.

You two were the same, you must be, as he growled against your cheek, guiding your hips to a more confident pace. Watching as you furrowed your brow, lips parting to let out soft little moans — fuck, he loved those little moans. Your cunt was taking him well, his cock moving inside you easier. You grabbed his shoulders once more, your breath coming out harder, faster. "Shit. Fuck. You're so—" A surprised gasp came out of you, he grabbed your hips, pulled you closer and pushed himself inside you, "Oh, fuck! Eddie...." His breath was hot against your cheek, closing his eyes as he settled into a pace, slamming his hips as deep as he could, driven by your moans, flashes of light running across the sky, thunder booming in the distance. But you didn't care, all you could care about was the sound of his hips hitting against you, of his cock slamming and hitting that spot, that fucking spot, that made your thighs quiver.

The way your cunt clenched around his cock the deeper he went, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter. It was addicting, groans pushing past his lips with heated breath. His eyes closed, completely taken by the feel of you around his cock. So tight, feeling your pussy flutter around him. But Calvin's words hit him suddenly, and a growl escaped him, his hips snapping harder against you, causing you to cry out. It wasn't jealousy, really, that hits him, that knowing that meathead had you once. You two were kind of the IT couple in school, he remembered, envious, kind of. But him coming at Eddie like he did, as if being with him was so horrible for you, it made him burn. "Did your pal, Cal ever fuck you like this, Princess?" his voice deep, hard like gravel.

It took you a moment to register the words, so caught up in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Almost too much, almost not enough. The way his cock slammed against you, sending waves of pleasure to consume every part of you, making your mind hazy, only thinking of Eddie and how full he made you. Yeah, it took a moment for his words to hit you, to unfurl in your mind to the point of comprehension. When it did, your brows furrowed, giving a squeeze of your fingers in his wet hair. "I... What?" Did Cal...?

"Did..." His hips snapping harder, "Cal...." Again, harder, your body moving with the impact, feeling his cock throb, making him shudder with a groan. "....fuck you...." He hissed at the next thrust, squeezing you tight. "....like this?"

"...Oh, God..." your words a hushed gasp, an rolling whimper falling from your lips, words lost to you as he continued his movements, thrusting into you harder. He heard every word, your lips by his ear, every little cry, sob, moan. Your body feeling on fire, no longer feeling the cold of the rain pouring down on you both, still. It getting harder and harder the longer you two were fucking. Gathering yourself, you squeeze around him, shaking your head. "N—No... No, no...." you finally answered, a sob threatening to halt your words. "Not like this..." your words slurring, feeling how he pulsed when buried so deep inside you. "Only you... Only you've fucked me....like this...."

An approving hum settled out of him, an ease on his heart, moving down and biting your shoulder, smoothing it with a kiss. "He's never....shit, you're so fucking tight...." Losing himself temporarily with the heavily feel of your pussy gripping him so... fuck. "Shit... He's never....made you feel this good?"

"No..." a soft laugh escaping you. "No one has.... You feel so fucking good..."

"How? Tell me..."

You groaned, burying your face at his neck, finding your hips meeting his. The feel of him overwhelming, but needing more of him. That desperate need always there. Did Cal really messed him up that much? "....you're thick. So fucking thick... Fuck!" You cry out, as he had let out a growl and snapped his hips against you. Swallowing hard, you try to continue. "I... Um... The way you kiss me.... I get wet from your kiss alone sometimes... The uh... You touch me, more than he did... Get me wet, get me soaking... The way you taste me, eating me out, determined to make me cum more than once... Yet you're blown away when I want to blow you..." A breathless laugh comes out of you, and you can feel him smile. "It's... It's really fucking cute, sometimes... You care...when you're fucking me... It's not....just getting your dick wet... you care about me. Care about how I'm feeling... And it..." You were struggling, he had stopped, laying down on the wet ground, allowing your hips to move. A gentle rising and falling on his cock, every descent down taking your breath away.

"Go on," he said in a strained voice, his hands finding your hips, stroking the skin gently. It was difficult, to make out your body, the harder you brought yourself down on his cock, the harder the rain seemed to pour. Brighter, was the lightening, and that helped, that definitely helped, a groan falling from his lips at every flash of light that gave him the view of your breasts,bouncing lightly as you went, the way your eyes were closed so tight, lips parted, letting out moan after moan, trying so hard to come up with the words he wanted to hear you say... His eyes traveling down, seeing your stomach clenching every time you took him deep. He moaned, eyes half lidded, pleasure coursing through him. You felt so tight and perfect. There was another flash and he saw his own cock, sucked in by your cunt.

You were right, he did care. Eddie Munson loved seeing how good he made you feel. It wasn't entirely selfless, he'll admit. There was pride, a stroking of his ego when he heard the sounds you made. Felt how wet you were... The other girls, they... God, they didn't feel like you. Weren't as excited as you. Not as tight, not as warm, not nearly as wet as you got. They definitely weren't eager to suck his cock like you did, either. He'd fucked before, but with you? It was different, it was new... Watching you take his cock, bouncing on it harder and harder, it made him throb and pulse, a burning to cascade all over him. The thunder rolled, louder and louder, his chest heaving almost in time with it.

His cock would be your undoing, in more ways than one. The way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter.... It wouldn't be long, and you were almost sad about the fact. "I..." you swallowed hard, trying to remember where you had left off, before distracted by the feeling of his cock, simply inside you, deeper, he told you to go on, but you could hardly think outside of wanting to cum. "....fuck, I love having you inside me, Eddie.... Shit.... I can't..." Your movements quickening, a sob coming out as you leaned forward, keeping him deep.

He hissed, his grip on your hips tightening, just holding on, letting you move on your own. "It's okay, baby.... Fuck, princess...." Your hands reaching around him, your face buried at the crook of his neck and feeling the heated breath of your moans made his eyes roll back. His cock was pulsing more, throbbing, wanting to feel you cum all over his cock. He wouldn't last long, the feel of you squeezing around him tightly, your sweet body moving so desperately on him. "...I love it when I'm inside you, too, sweetheart..." His voice barely a whisper, moving to kiss just below your ear with a hum. "Your cunt so perfect for me... Taking my cock so well... So wet and tight... Watching you ride it, take it because you love it so much, don't you?"

"Y e s..." you let out in a moan, his words making your hips go faster, the sound of thunder hitting your ears, but the sweet sound of his moans hitting you deeper. Making you whimper, encouraging you to keep going, the tip of his cock grazing that spot, filling you with that clawing pleasure. Sparking from within you, making you cry out every time it hits just right. "I fucking love it... How you feel... Oh, God, I love your cock so much..." Your fingers almost pierces his skin, bouncing on his cock once more, the feel of wet skin as hips collide, filling your ears and senses.

He could feel his stomach clenching, grunting, growling, as the pleasure filled you, he could feel it in his blood and bones, his chest stinging, inhaling deep the cold, wet air and he didn't care. Your words filled him with such pride, your cunt so sweet around him, he bit your neck, growling once more as you let out a cry. "Whose cock do you fucking love, princess? Hm?" His lips biting their way over your jaw, feeling himself throb and pulse inside you, "Baby, you feel so good," he muttered under his breath, rasping. "Mmm... Such a sweet little cunt... Tell me, baby, whose cock do you love so fucking much you can't help but take it like a good girl?"

His words and cock getting out a sob out of you, your breath shuddering, white heated pleasure coursing through you, feeling it to your fingertips, to your toes as they curled, yet your body went on, faster and faster, rising and falling on his thick length that felt so slick inside you now. "Y o u r s," you let out in a mangled cry. You felt him shaking his head with a groan, a hand slapping your ass hard, your body jolted and you let out a despairing cry. "But — oh, f u c k, baby —" you gasped, feeling the tightness starting to form at your stomach, not knowing if it was the rain or tears rolling down your cheeks. "Baby... Baby it's your cock—"

"Say my fucking name, Princess." His voice low, deep, his eyes opened and dark, only illuminated by the flash of lightning then. "I wanna hear you say my name."

"I..." A gasp escaping as his hand smacked your ass once more, the stinging pain lingering, a moan following as the pain mingled with the pleasure. "...Eddie..." you let out, eyes opening to see his face, not quite pleased, rectifying that as you let out, "....Eddie Munson..."

Fuck, that made him purr with utter fucking delight. Gripping your hips tight, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Making you pant, making him let out a guttural moan. "Mmm, that's right.... Whose cock is making you feel so good right now?"

"Oh, fuck... Eddie Munson's..."

"Whose cock so fucking belongs to you?"

You couldn't help but smile at that, a hiss and groan following. "Mmm, Eddie Munson's..." Your joined movements driving him deeper if possible, causing waves to crash over the both of you. The two of you feeling the other's impending climax, felt how you both shivered against each other's touch, working together. Matching each movement, each breath, each moan. You couldn't help it, the words falling from your lips, "...whose cunt is yours, Eddie?" The words almost a whine, his hips snapping hard at that, making your cry out. "Whose cunt squeezes around you so tight, loves you so much, gets so wet... Wanting... Oh god, fuck, wanting..." You felt your thighs start to quiver, a sharp wave washing over you in warning. Walls squeezing his length, feeling his chest rise and fall quick. Thunder, lightning, the rain pouring down harder and harder, steadily on the two of you. "...wanting..." You had to get it out, "Oh, god, wanting to feel you..." A strained whimper making you trail off, feeling his hips move, fucking you harder, faster, a sob rolling out of your mouth. "...oh...fucking....god...!" Growling, meeting his hips with the same fervor, he wasn't making it easy. "...wanting... to feel you...fill it...so deep...so much...every...every fucking drop—"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he groaned, saying your name, over and over like a prayer. "Yours, yours, so fucking yours..." His voice gravelly, husky, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking give it to you, too. Sweet little cunt gonna take every fucking drop, squeeze me so much, gonna...fucking.... Jesus, fucking..." Growling deep, he paused, reaching for his jacket that was on the ground. Wet, but still a barrier between the grass and you, as he he moved you to lay on your back. Kissing your neck as he did, sorrowfully slipping out of you, though he chuckled lightly at your protesting whine. "So fucking cute..." he muttered, kissing your lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll get exactly what you want. You always do, baby..."

You seemed satisfied, as he was between your legs, his wet cock sliding along your drenched folds. But for a moment, he was distracted, the sight of your breasts in view. A soft smile coming over him, as if he could go on and not pay them a little attention? Bending down and laying a tender kiss at the soft flesh, he let out a groan as his tongue lapped against the hardened tit, wrapping his lips and sucking gently. You arched your back, pressing it firmer against his mouth. The cold metal of his rings, colder for the rain and wind that started to pick up, make you shiver as it grasps your other breast. Squeezing, pinching your tit, an electric shock shooting straight to your core, but it only made you whine. Feeling his heavy cock against your folds, sliding over your swollen, pulsing clit, but your walls clenched around nothing. Missing his cock, needing him more than you did before.

It only struck him then that his shirt was still on, popping off your tit to take it off. You could barely see the exposed skin, how soft it looks, pale, but the ink of his tattoos had never been more crisp and clear to your vision in comparison. Your fingers reaching up to trace over them, as he rolls his shirt and puts it beneath your head, an attempt at comfort. It makes your heart soar, and eyes close in relief as he slides so easily inside you once more. A relieved moan coming from you both, his fingers come to your mouth and you open them without a single thought. Pressing his fingers inside, two of them, sucking and wetting them immediately before he slides them out.

You feel his lips on yours, kissing him back immediately as your hands find his forearms, clinging to them tightly. You find his fingers, the ones that were just in your mouth, touching your clit. Your moan is swallowed immediately, hips involuntarily moving against the way the pads of his fingertips swirl in little circles over it. His cock moving in and out of you in a slow pace, filling you deep, hiking your legs over his hips. His other hand slides towards your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing at the sides, giving you a dizzying feeling, the vibrations of your groan felt by him, making him end the kiss with a bite of your lower lip, tugging it with a growl. "Princess...."

"...Mmm?" you mustered, your chest rising up and down, the slow pace of his cock torture, the build from moments before was a dull ache, wanting to strike up again.

"Whose cock...do you love?"

Shit. A rising breath, a swallow felt by his hand at your throat, humming softly, "Eddie Munson's."

You were rewarded with a sharper snap of his hips, a sharp moan leaving you. "Good girl..." he growled, kissing your lips. Thunder was roaring, lips finding your neck as he bite hard, making you whine and yelp. Hips moving a bit faster, not too much, though it was difficult to restrain himself. "Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby... Fuck..." He could feel you squeezing him, having his hips stutter forward, feeling too good to resist. "Jesus fucking Christ..." Pulsing, throbbing inside you, his hips picking up in speed, groaning deep, finding himself chasing the high. His cock hitting you deep so perfectly, squirming underneath him, your moans and cries hitting his ears before anything else. "Oh, baby, am I making you feel fucking good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," and he was, that tightening building again, steady and fast. "So, so fucking good..."

He bit his lip, his cock not the only thing swollen at the words. He wondered if you did that on purpose, said shit like that for his ego or just...because you couldn't help it. He was afraid to ask, but now, right at that moment, he was led by your moans, your cries, and the feel of your fucking cunt as he fucked you. Harder. Faster. Ragged breath flowing between you both, his lips and teeth at your shoulder, biting on the flesh hard. "Fuck, fuck, f u c k! Such a sweet fucking.... Shit..." His words hot against your shoulder, he could feel his heart, pulsing and beating hard against his chest, his hips moving seamlessly, a continuous motion, and god, it was driving you crazy. Your nails had dug into his skin, sure to leave a mark, and the thought made him smile. "Whose making you feel so fucking good right now, sweetheart?"

"Eddie.... Fuck.... Eddie Munson..." you said in a daze, your back arched, white heat filling you, the height of pleasure, rising higher and higher. "Such a fucking...perfect...fucking cock..." you hissed, closing your eyes, letting it all wash over you, taking you to where you needed. Words falling from your lips, "Filling me up so fucking good, Eddie... Want so much of you inside me, leaking, making such a fucking mess..."

He groaned, loved it when you talked like that. It drove him crazy, you, who everyone thought was so sweet, and you were, at school, the sweetest girl... Yet with his cock inside you, pounding into you like he was now... He chuckled, "Such a pretty, filthy girl... Loving my cock so much... You never beg like this or talk so dirty with those jocks do you?" You only shook your head, making him groan, quickening his fingers on your clit, enjoying the sound of your cries because of it. "No, no, my girl loves my cock the best. Oh, sweetheart... I'm gonna fill you up so much... You're gonna be leaking of me for a fucking week."

"Oh, fuck, yes... Yes, please... Shit..." You should be ashamed at the thought turning you on so much, but you're not. The thought of his cum spilling out of you when you least suspect it...brings out a moan as his fingers flick from side to side against your clit, "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, don't stop — just like that, fuck, yes."

Your walls squeezed around him, and you could feel him throb inside you, his eyes shutting tight as he rested his head against your shoulder, refusing to stop or pause, determined to fuck you, to make you cum as curses and moans fell from his lips in heated release. The hand on your neck moved, fingers gripping and tangling in your hair, each breath punctuated with a whimpering moan from him. "Jesus fucking Christ, my girl's pussy feels so fucking good...." Biting your shoulder once more, growling, you were close, he could feel it, right around his cock pounding into you. And he was so close. "Is my baby gonna cum? C'mon, baby, please..."

"Y e s, yes... I'm..." You felt it, then, the rise climbing up and up. The sound of thunder close and almost,you swore, in time of Eddie's hips crashing into you. "Shit... F u c k!" You felt your body shake, hips trembling, as did your lips, seized and form still as he pounded away.

"That's it — that's it, sweetheart, let go, fuck, you're beautiful..." And he couldn't resist, punctuating his hips, letting out a growl. "Say it, say whose making you cum, baby. Shout it. Scream it. Want the whole world knowing who's fucking you so good..."

You cried out, his name leaving your lips, first and last, as you were doing when he asked, louder and louder each time. The light behind your eyes, engulfing you whole, in that sweet, white hot light, drowned you. Your cunt squeezing him the tightest, making him cry out, but moving still, feeling your release drench his cock, the warmth of it driving him over the edge.

"Baby, princess, fuck, so good, you're doing so fucking —" He groaned, fucking you through it. He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that, loud, even amongst the thunder. "That's right, that's fucking right, let everyone god damn know I make you cum like that—jesus fuck," though you came, he felt your hips rise up to meet his thrusts. It made him let out a throaty laugh, his eyes looking adoringly at you. "Look at my baby... Wanting my cum so much, powering through... Don't worry, baby..." Putting all his energy in his thrusts, taking you deep and fast. "You're gonna... Mmm, fuck. Oh, you're gonna get every...fucking...drop..."

You were being greedy, because you did want it, your cunt sensitive but not caring. Every thrust giving you an after shock of sensitivity, making your body jolt but you didn't care. "Please, please, please." Your voice strained, but heard so clearly to his ears.

"So fucking polite... Shit..." He could feel it, shuddering lightly. "Oh, baby. Fuck. You're such a good girl..." His breath panting, cursing sweet nothings into your ear, making you moan. "Fuck. Shit. Here... Fuck..." His muscles tensing, cock twitching inside you. He let out a groan, "Take it, sweetheart, take it all...fuck!" pressing himself as deep as he could go, your hands grabbing his hips, keeping him there as you could feel him, thick and hot, spilling into you, over and over. He clung to you, as you did him, both taken with the feeling, him emptying himself inside you, and you, feeling so utterly full. He moves slow, coming down from his high, your walls still gripping him like a vice, milking him of every thread, every drop of him, filling you more and more. He pictures his cum seeping out, dripping from your cunt, and the mental image makes him shudder, lifting his lips to kiss along your jaw, toward your lips and you take it with a tired, yet so satisfied kiss. Soft. Passionate. Content.

His hips come to a still, the thunder subsides and the rain seems to lighten up. You're both drenched to the bone, but neither of you care as you kiss over and over. A smile shared between you both, your body limp beneath his, enjoying the moment, the afterglow of it all. Your eyes open and he stares into them, the smile on both of your lips widening, everything seems light, sharing joint kisses, a giddiness filling you both. It could just be the way you looked then, or just the feel of you a mess around his cock, or any number of things, but the words just slip out as he looks at you. "I fucking love you."

Your eyes go wide, and regret kicks him square in the face.

Ah, shit.

"...Eddie," you start, looking into his eyes. "I—"

"Uh," he cuts you off, eyes looking away from your face. A nervousness settling in him. "Shit, it's getting cold," he said, and reluctantly, he pulls out of you, both of you letting out a groan as the release seeps from you. He couldn't help but frown at that, as well as, well, t h a t. He really fucked up a perfect little moment, in his eyes, and the only thing to do was damage control. "I should take you home, your parents are probably wondering where you are..." Brown eyes looking at the state of your dress as you tried to straighten and cover yourself with it. Reaching for your hand, he held it, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. "Wayne should still be at work, I can take you back to mine and we could get that dress of yours for a wash. Can take a shower if you want. Y'know, so they don't ask how you got it wet and....maybe a little muddy."

"I..." you trailed off, watching as he was already getting to his feet, lifting you up, his hands working to straighten your dress, giving your cheek a kiss. His eyes didn't stay on you long, rushing to reach for his shirt and jacket, drenched as all fuck, wringing the excess water as best as he could. You take a deep breath, smiling softly. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

At that, he looked at you, and even in the rain, you could see his smile. "For you, Princess? Always."

You believed him, too.

You didn't talk to Eddie much over the weekend, or see him, really, just some late night phone calls which was mainly him playing one of his tapes and you listening. It was Monday once more, when you entered the halls and saw sight of him at his locker, Jeff and the boys talking to him about something that got his attention.

I fucking love you.

The words playing in your head for the millionth time since he said it, wanting to talk about it, but every time he switched it to another topic. Or a distraction by ways of a kiss. It was annoying, he was clearly embarrassed that he said it, and was trying everything in his power to make you forget it even happened or push it away. Which was ridiculous, considering....

And that's when you saw them, Calvin and his teammates, and it brought back to what Eddie had said happened. Confronting him about his relationship with you, talking about how Eddie would ruin you like you were some delicate flower that needed protection, even from an ex-boyfriend like him. It pissed you off. Because you weren't delicate, you were not made of glass, and the fact that the only boy that grasped that and celebrated that with you was the very boy your ex-boyfriend was trying to threaten... Yeah, you couldn't let that stand.

But you were always such a clever one, that an idea brought forth in your head, and oh, you smiled. Smoothing down your skirt, because of course you wore a skirt, you made your way down the hall, right past your ex-boyfriend, and even some of your former friends, and right toward Eddie. He turned to you, just in time for your hands on his shoulders and lips crashing against his. You didn't catch the way his eyes widened in surprised, but you felt his tongue slide into yours, felt the vibration of his moan and the feel of his hands on your waist. Pressing against him more, you could hear the whistles of the students around you both, some of his friends, some not. They only got louder when his hands went to the swell of your ass, smiling against his lips as you felt his squeeze.

You bit his lip, tugging on it hard until it slipped from your teeth's grasp and he let out a little groan. Your eyes look adoringly at him, genuinely, giving another peck to his lips. "C'mon, baby, walk me to our class? Can't wait to sit next to you and..." You purposefully trailing off, pretending to finally catch sight of your ex. "Oh. C a l, hey... Funny, didn't see you there," you chuckled, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. Turning toward Eddie, holding his hand. "Baby, I need you, let's go."

Eddie looked at you, to Cal, a bright smile on his face as he brought his arms up in a shrug. "She's a wild one," he said as he brushed past them, "I can hardly keep up, but shit, I'm willing to try." Following after you, your hand in his as you both left them in the dust, as soon as you rounded a corner, he sped up and grabbed you at the waist, smiling wide as you let out a squeal, you squealed!, lifting you in a spin and pressed your back against the wall and kissed you deep."You... Jesus," he laughed against your lips, shaking his head. "I wasn't bullshitting, princess, you are a wild one." His brows furrowed, "You know you're a marked woman now, yeah? That was social suicide! You have no hope of escaping that or going back to your friends — It's pretty much over for you, baby." He pulled back, hands on his hips. "Now and forever — marked by the freak of Hawkins."

You let out a laugh, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, "Yeah, well, no loss there. Like I told you. I like your friends better, and...might as well, since I'm loved by the freak of Hawkins as well?"

His smile faded, a look of shock and apprehension on his handsome face, letting out a breath. "....ah, shit. That..." He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it. "Listen, that... You don't..." Bringing his hands out, palms towards you, he rationalized, "It's way too fucking soon to say shit like that, I know. And if that freaked you out—"

"It didn't," you cut him off, which made him raise his brow, unconvinced. "Okay, it kind of did, at first, but, I was still kinda recovering from you fucking me so it was all, kind of a daze." You snorted at the smug look on his face. "Fuck off. I never fucked in the rain before. It was a lot." You crossed your arms in front of you, looking at him. "So, what? Heat of the moment kind of thing? You don't love me?"

He took in a deep breath, chocolate brown eyes looking you over, head to toe and then back again. He could feel his heart, how it quickened in beat, a warmth that radiated when your eyes met. Your taste still lingering on his tongue, the urge to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and yes, fuck you, especially in that skirt you wore. "I don't...not love you. If I'm being totally honest... Yeah. Maybe I do... No other girl's just committed social suicide like that, kissed me in front of an Ex-boyfriend to be like fuck off. Get them jealous, yeah, but, not like that." He looked at you appreciatively. "You're kinda badass. And...for some reason, you...you wanna be a badass with me. How can I not love you for that? Or just... I don't know. I guess.... Yeah, yeah, I love you. But I don't wanna fuck it up, y'know, saying that too fast. So, if you think that's too fast or...you don't feel the same, then, we can forget it. And if I don't manage to fuck this up and chase you away for, maybe...a multitude of reasons, I can say it again...while not being in you at the time."

You couldn't help but smile at him, softly, gently. Your hand reached for his, fingers cascading over his rings and interlock with his, giving him a squeeze. "It's not social suicide for me. It's really not. It's just...letting everyone know where I stand. And it's not with them, it's with you." Your smile widen when he squeezed your hand. "I might love you, too." A laugh breathed past your lips as you saw his widened eyes. "But, maybe it is a little too soon to say it, officially. But...feels like we're on the track for it. My mom says she's never seen me this happy, and that's... That's because of you, Eddie. Because you make me very happy and... I feel like...my truest self with you." Kissing his cheek, you let out a hum, "Thank you for... Even though you said it, giving me the space to not feel pressured to say it right back. At least not now when this is still kinda new between us. Though I'm tempted," you both laughed, loving the glint to his eye. "I'm very fucking tempted."

"I'll take that. I can so fucking take that," he said, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling as you pull away, swinging your joined hands between you, sharing a chuckle. The bell rang, causing him to sigh. "Shit. Well, first period, Sweetheart. Oh, and... I totally forgot my book. So, I guess we'll have to share, get our tables together and..."

You rolled your eyes, moving toward class and dragging him along, "No, keep your hands to yourself until lunch time, Munson."

He pouted, looking over you and letting out a groan. "Come on, Princess, you knew what you were getting into with my wandering hands the moment you got into that skirt...."

You gave him a smile, a wicked look to your eyes.

Oh, yes, you definitely did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #words did come hither — writings #eddie munson — writings

[makeyoumine69]

I just want to post a snippet of my upcoming fic, I've missed writing the Cupcake series so much!😩

"No, I don't," he scoffed, pushing on your jaw. "'C'mon, Cupcake, tell me everything."

The surrounding darkness came in handy in this situation, not to mention the fact that almost everyone was focused on watching the show, so Bateman felt pretty confident knowing that no one would notice your little fight here.

"Get off!" You hissed, wrapping both your hands around his.

"Awww, look at those little hands," he pulled you closer so you could feel his hot breath on your trembling lips. "You are so small and yet so brave. It fascinates me, I won't lie."

You froze for a second as his sudden confession caught you off guard. Blinking several times, you didn't even notice that his large palm was now gently stroking your chin, moving up to your cheek and ending this little intimate moment by pressing lightly on your half-opened lips.

Actually, that was the worst thing he could do at that moment, because his illusory softness and tenderness hurt like hell. It was like a sweet candy with a sharp blade inside.

Just as you realized how close your faces were, you tried to pull away, but Patrick's grip was too tight. Fixing you in place by your chin, he captured your mouth with his, hungrily relishing your taste, your shiver, your muffled gasp against his lips. Bateman tested your limits so masterfully that every little move he made was as accurate as his side profile. Slowly he wrapped one hand around your neck while another was already resting on your waist, the kiss you shared was something more than just physical contact and you let yourself sink into the flow of emotions, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you deeper. You almost moaned, but the surrounding music of the show drowned out any obscene sounds that tried to escape your trembling lungs.

His strong, warm tongue danced along yours, not even giving you a chance to take the lead, so you opened your mouth wider and then your noses brushed together, forcing your hearts to beat in a crazy rhyme. God, this man was the darkest curse and the most delightful blessing.

After a few seconds, the people around started applauding so loudly that you had to open your eyes just as the lights came on. The strange delusion that was like a white veil behind your vision began to fade, and only then did you and Patrick realize that you were both staring at each other, your mouths still pressed together. A second, two seconds... 

It seemed as if you were both waiting to see who would break away first, and as soon as you heard someone coughing behind your back, you pulled away from Patrick's strong arms, but you knew that you only managed to break free because he let you.

"Patrick! I thought I wouldn't see you here!" A familiar female voice echoed from above and you didn't even bother to turn around to see another bimbo Bateman was hanging out with.

To be continued...🥴

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale

[hotgirlgraps]

Insufferable

Synopsis: Two people who swear they hate each other’s guts but they just can’t leave each other alone

Warnings: angst, pining, a bit of choking, oral female and male receiving, creampie, semi-public sex, Tyler has a filthy mouth, enemies who end up fucking, basically.

A/N: this is that “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” trope with an extremely arrogant Tyler and YN who knows how to push every single one of his buttons. This is also like 3 requests in one fic so Enjoy babes!

The requests were:

• Shower smut (enemies to lovers edition)

• “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid”

• facefucking

if you sent those in, thank you besties here they are🫶🏼

“Don’t say shit.” You glared at the man standing in front of you. You’d just gotten back from your match and you already knew you looked a little rough around the edges. You were sure you’d have a black eye in the morning and the last thing you cared to hear was anything Tyler Senerchia had to say.

Unfortunately, he was never good at keeping his mouth shut. It’s surprising to you how he hasn’t gotten his teeth knocked down his throat yet, but maybe you’d have to be the one to do it one of these days. Either way, he had that annoying ass smirk spread across his face the minute he caught sight of you and you just knew he was thinking of something, anything he could possibly come up with to annoy the shit out of you.

“You look like someone just beat the shit out of you.” He smirks, eyeing your hair wildly scattered about and the red welts on your skin. “You sure you’re ready to step in the ring with pro wrestlers? You might need to toughen up a little more before someone puts your little ass in a coma.”

Crossing your arms defensively, you felt your left eye twitch, which was not so coincidentally something that tends to happen whenever that man is in your vicinity. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who got knocked out with his own title.” You snap right back, watching his dark eyes narrow.

“At least I had a title. Last I checked, you lost every championship match you’ve ever been in.” He counters, his lips tipping up slightly when he sees the anger swirling around in your eyes.

“Should probably ice that eye. Looks like she got you pretty good.” He points out with a condescending smirk still playing on his lips.

“Shouldn’t you be in Tony’s office with your daddy bribing your way into another title shot right now?” You watched his jaw stiffen, feeling a little satisfied about that.

“I never had to bribe Tony for shit. I earned everything I have, unlike you, miss shorts that doesn’t even cover my ass.”

“You sound fucking stupid. It’s ring gear. Everybody wears the same shit. And I don’t use my body for bribery, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Your voice was a little louder than you intended but thankfully nobody else was in the hall.

You watched his white teeth show with the scoff he let out. “No? You don’t? So you just wear shit like this-“ his hand motions over you, rather dramatically, “for the hell of it? I doubt that. You only get tv time because you’re eye candy for the dumb asses who are stupid enough to be interested in you. That’s all you got going for yourself, and I think you know that too. I mean, look at your win loss record. You’re probably the worst in the woman’s division.”

He always had a way of getting under your skin and you hated that you gave him the satisfaction of letting him see how angry he made you. But for some reason you always came back to the banters.

“You know what?” Your eyes flared.

“What?” He piped up.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. I have plenty of fans who love me because I’m a badass wrestler and I don’t have to prove shit to you. Maybe I’ve never held a title but I’ve gone out there and given my all in that ring and i’m only eye candy, but I could walk out there in a nun outfit and still have people screaming my name, so nice try but you’re just spitting bullshit and you know it.”

You hated that easy smirk that seemed to always be on his face and wished more than anything that you could literally slap it right off.

“Then do it.” He shrugs. “Cause I’m highly doubtful and I would love to prove you wrong, and watch you absolutely humiliate yourself more than you already do when you get your ass beat every single week.”

You fell silent and he stood there with that infuriating look of satisfaction.

“Like I said, just eye candy.” He says before he brushes past you, bumping your shoulder with his arm.

“Go fuck yourself” you mumbled, but he heard it.

“I don’t need to do that.” He shrugs his shoulder. “But from this little attitude you got, it sounds like you do.” He smirks, stepping close enough that your chest was brushing against his. “I’m sure one of your creepy, perverted fans would be more than happy to help you out with that.”

“I’m sure one of the random hookers you meet on the street would be more than happy to get in your car again.” You snapped back, and all he did was let a low chuckle slip through his lips.

“Trust me. Anybody would be happy to fuck me, but unlike you, I’m not desperate.”

“Your constant visits to the strip club say otherwise.” You quirk a brow, wanting to take a step back but you didn’t want him to think you intimidated him.

“Looking and touching are two different things.” He calmly states. “And why are you keeping up with my life anyway? Aren’t you supposed to hate my guts like you tell everybody?” The corner of his mouth tips up as he eyes you slowly. “Or are you just that obsessed with me?”

You were the one to scoff at that, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking conceited it makes me sick.”

He takes a step back and chuckles lowly. “And you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met in my life. You know why?” His voice had a new edge to it, filled with condescension.

You didn’t respond, only stared up at him with piercing eyes as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” He almost whispered, allowing his eyes to linger down to your lips and then to the deepening redness on your cheeks.

“I would never fuck you.” You spat, almost quite literally.

“Cause I’d never let you.” He quickly counters, taking another step back until there was a breathable distance between you again.

“I would never want to.”

Obviously he didn’t believe that, but you didn’t believe him either. You knew him pretty well simply because of all the time he takes out of his day to play these little tit for tat games with you, and for that reason, you knew there was some kind of motive behind his constant bantering and teasing. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t want your hands on him unless it was to strangle his throat, literally.

He eyes you again, making sure to hold that dark stare long enough to make you a little nervous. That always happened and you never really knew why. But then, he takes a step foward and closes the space between the two of you almost fully once again, and you felt your heart start to thump hard against your chest.

“Next time you lie to me, at least make it decently believable. Go practice in a mirror or something, cause I can practically read your mind right now and all I’m seeing is you wanting to get bent over and fucked until your body collapses. And I’m not opposed to a little pity fuck. If you want it that bad, I can be charitable.”

His words left you speechless staring up at him for a couple of seconds while he let his eyes linger down to your lips once more, almost as if he was debating to kiss them, but fighting against it. But then you snapped back to reality and realized who you were listening to that shit from and immediately felt the rage bubbling up inside again.

“If I ever gave you the opportunity to fuck me, it would be because my life’s being threatened and the only way to save it is to fuck the most arrogant motherfucker on the face of this earth.”

You watched yet again as his lips tipped upwards and his eyes seemed to have sparked something new within them, before he shrugged one shoulder and slid his tongue over his lips.

“That’s funny, actually, cause I remember one of your little friends telling me otherwise.” You knew exactly what he was talking about and felt yourself internally wanting to scream.

“I was so fucked up, Tyler. Like drunk off my ass. Whatever I said that night, I never meant it. Don’t let it go to your head cause I promise you the last thing I want when I get in my bed at night is you.”

“Yeah?” He challenges. “If that’s the case I wouldn’t hear you moaning my name when you’re alone in your hotel room. You know we’re on the same floor, right? My room is right next to yours. Didn’t know that, did you?”

You felt your cheeks burning, like a thousand fires were blazing beneath your skin. So yeah, maybe you’d been caught up about that but it wasn’t because you wanted Tyler. It was just that it was rather undeniable that the man would probably be mind blowing in bed. He carried himself with that cocky demeanor and that air of sexual energy around him that you just knew he would be outstanding but, that smart mouth and arrogant attitude kept you from even attempting.

“What’s the matter? Nothing to say? You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” He smirked. “You know, I was gonna pay you a little visit right after that cause I figured your fingers probably didn’t do you justice but, then I thought about it and decided it was best for everyone on our floor if I didn’t cause clearly you’re a little loud by yourself, you’d get us kicked out of the hotel if I was fucking you.”

You swallowed thickly and your eyes adverted down to the gold cross sitting over his hoodie, in an attempt to avoid those dark eyes. Tyler was surprised you had nothing to say back. Usually you always did. That’s when he realized he either took it too far and humiliated you or he just figured you out completely, calling you on this bluff that you can’t stand him.

“Why are you so silent all of the sudden?” He asks, taking a slight step closer. “I just called you out for fantasizing about me and you’re not even trying to choke me out right now. What is it, yn? Did you mean it when you imagined me being the one fucking you instead of these-“

He reached down and grabbed your hand, sliding his thumb over your fingers before you felt him cup your chin. He raised your head and your eyes locked with his.

“Did you want me to be the one making you moan my name? Cause you can admit it to me, and I can make it happen right now.” His voice was deeper, raspier, almost breathy and as much as you wanted to push back like you always did, this time, you knew it wasn’t going to happen.

You watched his adams apple bob in his throat, his eyes slightly softening before a new blaze ignited within him when you simply shook your head and said, “I want to be the one to make you moan my name, not the other way around.”

“I can’t make promises on that.” He said as you felt his hand tighten around your fingers, as if he was letting his nerves subtly get the best of him.

“I can.” You whispered, and within a split second you were pinned against the wall with his hands locking your wrists together above your head. You gasped out but it was caught by his lips landing on yours, as if he really was the one who had been desperate for this all along, like you already expected.

It was all happening so fast that you couldn’t even catch your breath but something about it had you instantly wanting more the second he pulled away and he saw that in your eyes, and being the arrogant man he is, all this did was fuel him. Start a fire that nobody would be able to put out until he was satisfied with the way he plans to absolutely ruin you.

His eyes glanced to the end of the hall before he looked back down at you. His lips were swollen and chest heaving, as if he was a caged animal dying to break free.

“We can’t do this. Not here.” You managed to breathe out, watching ideas swirl around in his mind until he thought of a specific place he’d always imagined would be good for fucking at, cause that’s just the type of shit he randomly liked to thing about.

That lead to him pulling you down the hall, feet rushed until you passed talent standing around. Neither of you wanted anyone to know what you were about to go do and everyone was under the assumption that the two of you despised each other so, needless to say you got some weird glances from eyes all around when you were spotted walking side by side, but nobody said anything.

He brought you to the showers that not many people prefer to use, because it was at the other end of the arena and there was another set of them closer to the locker rooms. In his mind those showers were installed for this specific reason. And you didn’t even know they were down there until you walked in and seen three stalls with only single curtains separating them from anyone who might walk in.

“This is risky.” You tell him the second you glance around the room. “Anyone could walk in.”

“And they’ll walk right back out.” He mutters as he wraps his arms around your lower back and pulls you into his chest, locking his lips with yours once again. All of those hesitations were immediately washed over with the way he was backing you up against the wall, his lips rhythmically moving against yours.

“Look who’s desperate now” you hummed against him when his hands moved down to your shorts, fingers hooking under the waistband before he pulled back, and yanked them down to your ankles with a smirk on his face. He came eye level with your exposed core and glanced up at you as he brought one finger to run down your folds.

“It’s still you.” He says as he collects the wetness on his digit. “You’re dripping for me right now.”

Your head fell back against the wall and you kept your eyes on the door, until you felt his fingers spread your folds, and his warm tongue immediately followed, sliding from your entrance to your clit, earning your hips to jolt towards him and a low “oh God” to slip out.

“No baby” he muttered against you. “It’s Tyler. only name you need to remember is mine, and I wanna hear you wear it out”

You felt his tongue slide up again, the warmth sending tingles through your entire body. Your mouth fell open and eyes screwed shut as you allowed it all in, and his eyes stayed trained on you with every single motion.

He brought his forearm up to pin your hips, keeping you still as he swirled and flicked his tongue over your pulsating clit, reveling in the mixed sounds filling the room. He felt your hands tangle up in his hair and tightly grasp a fitful, your body was so effortlessly reacting to him in a way he knew he’d be thinking about when it’s all over with and you two probably go back to despising one another.

He knew there wasn’t a likely chance he’d be able to do these things to you again, whether you craved it or not, so he was going to make the absolute most of it.

He tilted his head so his tongue could flick at a different angle, and judging by the way you inhaled a sharp gasp and exhaled a series of broken whimpers, he assumed you liked that.

“Knew you were gonna be a moaner” he smirks against you, his hot breath lingering against your sensitive skin. “Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to let me do this”

You heard that, and much like him, you didn’t know how to keep your mouth shut. You attempted to recollect yourself but your words still came out as one long, drawn out moan when you looked down at him, locking eyes and said, “You just admitted how desperate you are to fuck me”

His tongue stilled and eyes narrowed, but only for a split second before he brought two fingers to your entrance and without warning, pushed them in and roughly curled them against that one sweet spot that he somehow effectively and effortlessly found.

Your eyes rolled back and head hit the wall again. “What was that, baby? You were saying something? What? That I’m desperate? Sounds like you’re the one that’s desperate right now, moaning and whimpering from just two of my fingers.”

He curled those fingers back and to, hitting that spot that kept you from being able to argue back, and he took pride in that.

“Nothing to say now, huh? You were just talking all that shit, now you can’t even speak properly. You’re to tight, so wet, you’re dripping to the floor right now and all I’ve done is touch you.”

You peered down at him, catching the view of his dark eyes watching you come undone above him. A smirk spread across his lips when he noticed your cheeks flushing, eyelids fluttering and you just couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.

His fingers skillfully pumped against you, making your whole body erupt with goosebumps covering every inch of your skin.

“Bet you’ve thought about this before. About me on my knees for you, getting a taste of this perfect little pussy while my fingers fuck into you. Bet that’s exactly what you wanted that night you were touching yourself in your hotel room, and I’m sorry baby, but I was under the impression that you couldn’t stand me. Or else I would’ve been doing this all night long.”

Just his words were making your head spin. His raspy voice and the condescending edge that you couldn’t admit you loved so much. You were on the verge of letting yourself fully succumb to him but, just as soon as that release approached, it was ripped away when he stilled his fingers and rose to his feet, keeping those digits curled against your g-spot, but not daring to do more.

You involuntarily arched off the wall and he smirked at that, but he didn’t allow anything else when he pulled those slender fingers out of you and brought that slick hand up to your throat, wrapping around it and slightly squeezing. His lips barely touched yours as he applied a little pressure, enough to make your head spin.

“I got something for that smart ass mouth.” He groaned, using one hand to push his shorts down to his thighs while the other one held that pressure on each side of your neck. “On your knees.” He demanded, and you did exactly as you were told.

You dropped to your knees, your eyes now giving his cock your full attention. You knew he’d probably be impressive but at full mass, standing tall and proud, he was massive. Or at least massive compared to anything you’d had before him.

You took his shaft with one hand and immediately felt his hand tangle up in your hair. You trailed your tongue from his shaft to the tip, swirling around it a few times just to see what he’d do, and that lead to him gripping a handful or your disheveled locks.

You cupped your lips around his tip, tasting the saltiness of the precum before you relaxed your throat and took in as much as you possibly could. He felt his tip hit the back of your throat and let a breathy groan pass through his lips, looking down as he watched his cock disappear between your puffy lips.

You held your eyes on him as you started bobbing, doing your best not to gag on his size but when he thrusted his hips forward, that was long forgotten.

“Fuck you’re pretty on your knees like that” he muttered, his brows furrowing as he kept snapping his hips.

You rotated both hands around the length that just wouldn’t fit in your throat as you continued sucking him in, letting him use your mouth and throat as he stilled you with his hand gripping your hair and thrusted faster instead.

He started panting, his heavy breaths lingering about in the air as you stared up at him, feeling tears prick the corner of your eyes and there was no use trying to hold them back when he thrusted forward and knocked the back of your throat.

“Are those tears?” His voice was filled with that typical condescending edge and you wished you hated it as much as you say you do. “What’s wrong, y/n? I never took you for a crier before. Wonder if there’s some other ways I can make tears stream down that pretty face.”

You kept your mouth open as he fucked into it, unable to push your head back due to his hand still gripping a fistful of hair. You felt the tears sliding down your cheeks, new ones pushing the previous ones out every time his cock hit the back of your throat.

“God I love seeing you like this. Can’t even argue with me. Too busy getting my dick shoved down your throat.”

You watched as he pressed one hand to the wall, his upper body bending slightly over you as he started to slow the thrusts down, and a low reverberation of appreciation he would definitely deny, slipped past his lips when he felt your tongue flatten on the underside of his cock. Something he was probably going to miss when it’s all over with.

You felt his hand slowly unravel your hair and his fingers slide down your cheek until they cupped your chin. You pulled off of him with a soft pop and looked up at him. You were sure you had mascara staining your cheeks but, he liked it.

“Up” he demanded, and you rose to your feet. His eyes lingered to your swollen lips and his thumb came up to them, pressing against the pink, puffy flesh before he pulled your bottom lip down slightly.

“Still got that attitude?” He raspily whispered.

“I’ll always have this attitude.” You copped back, watching as an amused look lingered in his eye. He glanced down at your naked lower half and the wetness smearing your thighs. Then he leaned to the left and turned the shower knob, water casting down that you knew you were about to probably be under.

“You’re a mess. Should get you cleaned up.” His hands roamed from your hips up to the end of your gear, the tight top that he would deny, but he really liked when you wore. You let him slide it over your head and suddenly felt self conscious as you stood in front of him, fully naked so you grabbed the end of his hoodie and slid that over, and he stepped back to remove his shirt underneath, leaving him wearing nothing but that gold cross around his neck.

He nodded his head to the shower. “Don’t worry, I’m still gonna fuck the shit out of you.” He smirked as he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you in. You spun around the second the water casted down on you, scorching your skin until that heat was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you and switched places, blocking most of the scolding hot drops.

“Wow, you actually did something nice for me.” You tease, feeling his thumb stroke your lower back.

“About to do a lot of nice things for you.” And then his lips were latched to your neck, his fingers found themselves intertwined in your soaked hair and all you could do was let the feeling in. The tingles on your skin mixed with the strange feeling of fire erupting through your veins and he was the cause of it all.

You sighed deeply as he walked you back, pinned again to another wall by his body pressing against yours. He was aiming to leave reddened patches over your skin and it wasn’t long before he pulled back and saw the mark he made, which would be a pretty nice sized hickey you’d have to lie to your friends about.

You stared up at him a bit breathless, and he looked down at you with lustful, impatient eyes. He had so many thoughts swirling through his head but the first thing he planned to do was make sure there was no way you wouldn’t be thinking about him every single night before you go to sleep from now on.

He reversed your places, now with his back against the shower wall that he planned to use for leverage. His hands found your hips and he lowered himself slightly, angling his hips forward so that his cock was positioned perfectly at your needy core.

His eyes caught yours just as his tip brushed over your heated skin, his hand wrapping around his shaft to keep it there as he slowly slid it around, teasing like you already expected from him.

“Not sure you can handle this, but I’ll let you try.” He smirked, and all that did was make you want to prove yourself to him so, you grabbed him in your own hand and adjusted his tip to your entrance before you angled your hips foward and pushed him in.

Right from the start he was overwhelmingly stretching you out. You could feel him taking every space between your walls and claiming it all with his size. You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from whimpering, and he held his hips still, as much as he wanted to push in deeper, to give you time to adjust to him.

Your hands found his shoulders and his found your hips as he helped you take all of him, easing you through it until he felt his tip hit your cervix, proudly at that.

“Take your time” he whispered, and with no smart ass comment behind that remark, which was surprising.

But you, ever the sarcastic girl, shook your head and looked into his eyes, making sure he hears you when you say, “Don’t need to”

And with that, you started rocking your hips back and forth, his length stretching you to your limits with every move you made but deliciously so. It was a pain that you knew you weren’t going to be able to get enough of. Already addicting, you were fucked from this point on.

But that’s okay, because so was Tyler. He was doing his best to hide it, but the way you were gripping him so tight, sucking him right back in every time he glided out was making his head spin. He wanted more already and he knew that was going to be the case when the two of you go back to your normal after you leave the shower.

“Fuck” you breathed out, wincing when he pushed in deeper.

“Taking me better than I thought you would” be groans out of pure anticipation. He’s trying so hard not to get carried away and it’s not working out too well, because feeling your nails dig into his skin and watching your teeth sink into your lip is quickly becoming his weakness.

Your eyes peered open through the steam surrounding the two of you and you caught sight of his expression. For once he didn’t have that cocky arrogance even though his words were full of it. He looked like he’d completely succumbed to you. His eyes were focused solely on your reactions, filled with undeniable admiration even though you knew he’d never admit to that.

He kept his back pressed against the wall but his hips pushed against it, starting to go a little faster simply because he couldn’t help himself, and one of his goals was to hear you moan his name while he’s the one making you feel good.

You felt his fingertips dig into your skin, hands tightly gripping your hips as he guided your every move. You looked down to where his cock was disappearing inside of you, the feeling so intense you could hardly keep your head up.

Moans and whimpers quickly morphed into cries and whines of pure pleasure as he snapped his hips back and to, driving so deep inside of you that you could barely take it.

“That’s it baby, let me do all the work while you take my dick like a good girl. Matter of fact-“ he pulls out quickly, surprising you until he spins you around. You pressed your hands to the shower wall to keep steady and as soon as he entered you again, his fingers intertwined yours.

You arched your back and he leaned away slightly to watch as he fucked into you. Your ass jiggled each time his hips rocked into you and the look of that alone was almost too much for him, coupling that with your walls having a vice grip around him, this man was nearly done for.

Your cheek pressed against the wall, mouth couldn’t figure out how to stay shut for the first time as a list of unnatural noises came flying past your lips. And Tyler loved every single sound you made.

He folded over you, his lips finding your neck where he decided he just wanted to leave another purple patch in their place. Your head lolled to the side, letting him do whatever he wanted as he kept thrusting into you.

The sounds of your skin slapping and a mix of moans, whimpers and heavy breaths overpowered that shower water casting down on the tile but neither of you cared at that point.

He pulled off of your neck with a pop and his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps skating down your whole body. His heavy breaths were puffed in your ear and you were quickly realizing you loved the sound of him like that, whether you liked that fact or not.

“Next time you touch yourself, this is what you need to think about” he breathily whispered, punctuating his words with harder thrusts. “And when your fingers aren’t leaving you satisfied, then you need to call me.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you. He leaned back and grabbed your hip, keeping your steady as he picked up the pace. You quickly started feeling your stomach coil, a pleasurable sensation that was taking over too rapidly to process.

“Oh my God” you cried out.

“I told you baby. Tyler. I’m the one you need to be crying out for. Only name that needs to come from those pretty little lips is mine.” He slams into you once again, now holding both of your hips as he thrusts with a speed that had you seeing flashes of white.

He grabbed a handful of your wet hair and pulled your head back, his lips coming to your ear once more.

“I don’t know what you’re gonna tell your little friends when they ask you why you’re walking funny” he mutters against your cheek, “or why there’s hickeys on your neck” he adds as he pulls out halfway, just to slam right back into you. “But I’d love to be there when you give them your bullshit explanation, and if you say any other man aside from me did that to you, I’ll fuck you right there in front of them.”

He leaned back up and gripped your hips again. “Cause baby, I’m not letting anyone take credit for the way I’m ruining you.” His fingertips grip your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave red marks in their place. “And as much as you might wanna keep this our little secret, I’m just not sure you’ll be able to do that for very long. Not when I’m done with you.”

At that point you barely could comprehend him, but that was until he pulled out of you, just to spin you around. You came face to face with him again. He wanted to see what he was doing to you and needless to say, looking at how blitzed you were, he was pretty proud of himself.

He then wrapped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs felt like noodles but you still managed to wrap them around his hips. There was a familiar sting when he pushed himself back into you but you quickly realized that you loved it, and unfortunately you were probably going to want it again after this.

He held you up as he rocked into you. The shower water had started running cold against his back but he didn’t care. He was so hyper focused on you that he didn’t even feel the ice droplets against his skin. And that man hates cold showers.

“You’re so pretty while you’re getting fucked” he huffed out. “Wish you could see yourself right now. See how fucking hot you look with my dick stuffed inside your perfect little pussy. All those marks on your neck. Fucking gorgeous just like I knew you’d be.”

Your mouth fell open but nothing but those inhuman sounds could come out. Your hands gripped his biceps and you felt his muscles stiffen beneath your touch. Your eyes fluttered to get a good glimpse of him but it was all so blurry. You were on the edge of an impending high and apparently he knew exactly what to do to bring you over.

“Next time you open your mouth to say some smart ass shit, remember my dick getting shoved down your throat, cause that’s exactly what ima do, baby. From now on, you’re gonna be a little nicer, or you’re gonna get that pretty throat ruined.”

You moaned at that for some reason you really didn’t even know, and especially when you felt his teeth scrape over your jaw, his lips peppering delicate kisses down your neck was such a stark contrast to the way he was fucking into you so roughly that your brain had completely checked out.

“I know you’re loving every second of this. I can feel it. Your pussy squeezing me so tight, can’t hardly let me pull out of you without sucking me right back in.” He rasps against your slick skin, reveling in the moans that are ripping through your lips. “You want to come on my dick so bad you’re shaking, baby. You’re practically begging for it.”

Your eyes fluttered open and caught his. His hair was slick against his skin, eyes low and rather hazy. He had sweat beads slipping down his temple and looked like the absolute picture of perfection, as much as you hated to admit it.

His lips landed on yours, taking you by surprise in that moment but you easily kissed him back. His tongue surpassed and entered your mouth, finding your own tongue as he slowed his thrusts down from hard, sharp snaps of his hips to slow, smooth and languid pushes in and out of you and for a moment it felt so intimate that you almost fought against it but, it also felt right, and you decided not to overthink that and just let it happen. You’d ignore the feelings it brings later.

His hands cradled your face as his tongue danced with yours. You felt his cock push back into you easily, yet carefully, and he held it there for a few seconds before he pulled halfway out, just to do it all over again.

He pulled his lips back and both of your eyes opened. For a moment you were both so caught up in the emotion that suddenly aroused, you both wondering why things just took such a turn but Tyler was quick to snap his hips and pick up the pace again, because like you, he didn’t want to overthink.

Caught by surprise once again, your head fell back against the shower wall his name rolled off the tip of your tongue way too easily.

“Fuck” he groaned when he heard it. “So fucking hot when you moan my name like that, angel. Fucking love it.”

“Please don’t stop Tyler, please, I’m so close I-“

“Wasn’t planning to, baby” he snaps his hips again and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He keeps you held up when he feels your body going limp, knowing your orgasm was about to rip through you and he was more than just ready for it.

Your eyes screwed shut as you held him tightly against you, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over until your entire body suddenly erupted with the warmth that you’d been aiming for, pure euphoria rolling through your veins as he rocked your through it.

“Fuck, oh my- Tyler! Fuck!” You were a babbling mess as you felt that high crash into you, along with his merciless hips. He thrusted three more times before he stilled those hips. Low grunts and groans of his morphed into the air with your higher moans and whimpers.

You were barely comprehensible at that point when you felt your feet get placed gently on the shower floor. He slid out of you but kept his face buried in the crook of your neck for a couple extra seconds, both attempting to catch your breaths.

After a minute or two, he picked his head up to look down at you. He now had tired eyes and a lazy smirk plastered on his face, but there was a lot of pride evident in those dark eyes and it immediately made your cheeks tinge red, though you tried to hide it by dropping your head.

That’s when you felt his finger curl under your chin and lift your gaze back to him. “Tell me again how you’d only let me fuck you if your life depended on it.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but do the same as you looked into his unusually soft eyes.

“I mean, I was feeling nice today. Don’t get used to it.”You shoot him a look as you step out the shower.

“You were not feeling nice today. Maybe you’re feeling nice right now, but not earlier you weren’t. You might as well just admit it, YN.” He steps out the shower and placed himself in front of you, leaning down to grab your clothes off the floor before he hands them to you.

“Admit what, Tyler?” You grabbed your clothes and gave him a cross look.

“That you just wanted me to fuck you.” He shrugs with a boyish grin, and as much as you do try to act like it annoyed you, it wasn’t so much anymore. Not as much as you wished it did, anyway.

“Why don’t you admit it?” You countered as you slipped on your shorts.

“That I wanted to fuck you?” He asks as he slips on his shorts and pops the band against his waist. “Okay, I mean, obviously. I just did, didn’t I? See I can admit things, but you never can. That’s your problem. You like to try to hide things to much.”

“Appreciate the advice, Dr. Phil, but I really don’t have anything to admit.” You crossed your arms after you slipped on your shirt. He hated that there were clothes on you again but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“Nothing?” He quirks his brow. “Nothing at all?”

You peered your eyes at him, noting how he was trying to act like he knew something he clearly didn’t. You shook your head and stepped back towards the door.

“Nope. But I need to go fix myself up before my friends see me looking like this and ask me what the fuck happened, thanks for that.” You bite out, but all he does is let his eyes linger down to those purple patches he left on your neck.

“Yeah, well, when you’re begging for more, you know where to find me.”

#hook aew #hook #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #aew dynamite #send hook

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓑𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮 [𝓙𝓦𝓨] 𝓟𝓽. 3

♡ Pairing : MafiaBoss!Jung Wooyoung x F!Reader

♡ Summary : He told you not to face his demons, but what he didn't know is that you knew his demons better than he laid eyes on them.

♡ Warnings : Angst, Wooyoung has serious anger issues, protective!woo, woo isnt really an asshole later on, Woo really isn't much of an asshole in this, mentions of other group members, reader is too good for her own good, a very soft reader, Suggestive themes at the end, Rough make-out session.

♡ Disclaimer : I strictly do not support this kind of behavior and that this is a fic, so read it as a fic. All the characters in this fic may be extremely cruel but do know this doesn't represent any characteristic of the real life people and that this is just a fic written by me.

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♡ Aera's Note : Feedback on this is one is greatly appreciated!!

You were yet again, forced to join one of these fanciest clubs. Wooyoung had gotten you to dress yourself in the most tight fitting long white silk dress. Your hands were decorated with lacy white gloves and your hair was curled perfectly above your shoulder making you look seductive and innocent as ever. Your eyes showed no emotion just like your body didn't react anymore like before to his lingering touches. You had come to get yourself to love those trailing touches and kisses which were imprinted on your body. The long slit of your dress exposed your bare thigh for everyone.

You were sat next to Wooyoung when an unfamiliar guy entered the room. You noticed the instant shift in Wooyoung's gaze and the way his figure turned uncomfortable from his presence. The guy walked up to you, his eyes meeting Wooyoung's in a dark gaze and his lips instantly curl up in a smirk from noticing the change in his behavior. "Jung Wooyoung, didn't expect to see you here." Wooyoung's jaw clenches slightly, "Same goes to you too, Jung Yoon-Oh. It's been a while, isn't it?" It was now time for Jaehyun to clench his jaw, "Jaehyun. It's Jung Jaehyun for you."

Wooyoung's grins in satisfaction, only for it to be cut short when Jaehyun's eyes travelled to Y/n. "And Who is this pretty gir-" Jaehyun's voice dies down in his throat when his eyes glances over her collarbone to find Wooyoung's initials, 'JWY' inked onto her soft skin. Wooyoung's gaze instantly darkens again, but Jaehyun didn't dare question whatever he witnessed. He clears his throat before regaining his composure and moving his eyes back to Wooyoung. "I need to speak to you about something."

Wooyoung takes a deep breath, "I have nothing to speak about with you, Brother." He spats out, his tone laced with venom and hate. "It's about our father, and-" "We'll talk about this later. Alone." Jaehyun hesitantly gives him a nod, before going away from his brother. His eyes soften when he is completely out of Wooyoung's sight, his heart aches to see his younger brother be so heartless. The confined look on the girl's face made him realise how heartless his brother had turned out to be, it made him realise what a monster they had turned him into.

Wooyoung knocked on Seonghwa's office door, not caring if he heard a 'come in', he barged through the door making Seonghwa's attention swiftly switch to him. It had been about two months since their last fight, needless to say, Seonghwa certainly was still not settled with Wooyoung's actions."I don't want to talk to-" "I met Jaehyun hyung, today." Wooyoung spoke, walking towards the big white couch. "Wait, what?" "You heard me, hyung." Seonghwa quickly paced towards him, "What did he say now?" Wooyoung takes a deep breath before answering Seonghwa. "He wants to talk about our father, and his condition."

Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief, his hands fidget in anger and rage. "After ten fucking years, he had the the fucking guts to talk about your father with the first time you met?" Wooyoung's eyes twitch when he "This... This isn't the first time I met him after a long time, hyung. I met him two weeks ago and it certainly didn't go well." Seonghwa lets out a deep sigh after hearing his sentence, not being one bit fazed by his words. "Now that explains the bloodstains on your shirt and the dagger in your hand the other day. What do you plan on doing now? I can train the team for the attack-"

"Not yet hyung." That's when Seonghwa observed the change in his eyes. His eyes flickered with unknown pain and fury, which he held in with all the efforts, so he didn't hurt him. Seonghwa now really wondered what was going on in his mind.

You flinched hard every time your ears heard the sounds of loud crashing.

Flashback

Your younger self crouched down in the corner, hugging your legs to your chest in fear. Your little hands shook in fear from the loud crashing sounds coming from downstairs. You were ten, you were a literal child. A small fragile child who was trying to comprehend why those big black men entered your house when your family was going out for a long vacation with your family. Your shining eyes teared up from remembering the fear that shone over your parents faces when they rushed you to run to your room. That night, although you heard all those loud cries for help and loud noises, you failed to protect them.

You were pulled out of your trance when you heard the loud scream coming from Wooyoung's office, it sounded certainly very familiar to you. You stare at the plain wooden door, your hands reaching out for the door knob but you instantly flinch from the other loud thrashing sound escaping the room. Your hands shiver in fear and a tear escapes your eyes but you force yourself to turn the knob. You were welcomed by the sight of a completely messed up room, with all the vases and decorations shattered into pieces.

You looked around the room to be greeted by Wooyoung's broad back facing you, "Get the fuck out of here Y/n." This was the very first time he had called you by your actual name, and his furious tone made you shudder in your place. His eyes close shut in annoyance when he hears footsteps approaching his figure slowly. He turns around swiftly, pushing you against the wall making your back hit the wall harshly. His hands bring out his dagger from his back pocket in a second before pressing the dark black dagger against your throat.

"Why don't you fucking obey a rule?" His eyes finally met yours which were filled with utter fear and.. Pain? Your throat bobs slightly as you gulp down in fear. You couldn't believe who you were seeing, was it really him? The strange furious and crazy look on his face, and the dagger he pressed at your throat made you feel like it was the biggest mistake to walk through the door. After all those nights of ending up in his bed, your face pushed into the pillows as he pounded ruthlessly into you while he bruised your soft skin, you should have definitely known better.

You should have known that you were just his fucking puppet, his fucktoy. What would you even expect from this asshole?

But there was still a little hope in your little heart which tried to look for the reason. The empty reason as to why was he so triggered. Your heart pounds faster with fear from having contact with his sharp eyes which glinted with an unfamiliar rage. His dagger slightly dug into your skin, slashing through the thin layer of your skin. You do nothing but let out a wince in pain as tears continue to run down your eyes."P-Please." Your soft voice pleaded making him snap out his trance slightly.

His eyes unknowingly soften and his hand shake before letting the dagger slip out and fall to the ground. Wooyoung's eyes twitch slightly before he takes a deep breath, his anger not yet cooled down. "Get out" His finger presses over the fresh cut on your neck, making your blood stick to his skin. He got an unknown sense of relief from the sight of blood, while he felt an inner voice screaming at him to get away from you. He was too dangerous for your fragile figure, but wasn't he always this dangerous to your fragile figure?

He was cut off from his trail of thoughts when he heard your soft whimper, his head snapped towards you with widened eyes. "N-No. You n-need help." Your voice seemed so innocent and your teary eyes were now red from crying. His hands now come up to grasp your jaw, "You don't know what you are getting yourself into kitten. Get out." Your hands latched onto his shoulders, "I don't care what I'm getting myself into, you've already dragged me into this mess."

His grip on your jaw tightens if that could happen, "Then how will you help me? What can you fucking do, kitten?" The next moment you pull him down for a rough kiss, and your hands ball into fists, ruining his well ironed shirt. Your lower lip gets captured by his teeth in a harsh grip as he bites down on the soft skin and pulls away. "Use me, Master." You couldn't believe the words you let out but your mind has no space for thinking when his lips smash over yours yet again. His hands move down to your waist, squeezing at your sides.

"I fucking- Will, kitten." Wooyoung utters out in between your kisses before grasping your thigh with his large hands. You were unwillingly content with yourself for what you just did. Maybe all those nights weren't really forced, maybe you didn't hate ending up in his bed with your face pushed into the pillows or his hand wrapped around your neck while he pounds his cock into you. Maybe you preferred all that than knowing you left him all alone like everyone else did.

Maybe you finally were trappped into the love maze created by Jung Wooyoung just for you. Maybe he had set a burning desire in you too.

Okay so this took me long enough although it's a short chapter, but believe me, there will be longer chapters soon. 🤭

- 🔮

© wooyoungmybelovedhusband. All rights reserved. Do not copy or steal any of my works.

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez angst series #ateez series #ateez fanfic #ateez yandere imagines #ateez yandere series #yandere ateez #ateez yandere #yandere!ateez #yandere #yandere! ateez #yandere wooyoung series #yandere wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung series #wooyoung angst #yandere! wooyoung imagines #yandere! wooyoung #yandere! wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader angst #wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader angst #ateez smut #yandere!wooyoung #yandere! wooyoung smut

[bakageta]

Holiday 500 fic #2

@lmtyl's prompt! I had a fun time writing the search history and comment section, though I didn't look anything up formatting wise.

“Venom, what the fuck?”

What?

“You said you wouldn’t show up in the videos, man…” Eddie ran his hand through his hair as he stared at the still of the scene he was editing for his vlog. It showed him on location, gesturing wildly, with a suspiciously familiar white-eyed, black snake draped around his neck. He hadn’t noticed it during filming, too used to Venom’s presence inside and on his body, but the symbiote’s dark shape stood out starkly against the white v-neck he wore under his Hawiian shirt. 

“I’m gonna have to re-shoot–”

You noticed sooner than I thought you would. Venom emerged, decidedly less snakey, and rested its chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m only the size of a garter snake.”

“What.”

—

🕙 eddie brock cryptid recent

🕙 eddie brock alien recent

🕙 eddie brock monster recent

🕙 eddie brock monster 

🕙 cactus succulent poaching central america

🕙 plant poaching

🕙 plant paoching

—

“See, there is nothing.” A tendril patted Eddie’s shoulder in an attempt at reassurance. “No one noticed.”

“I don’t– How?” Eddie shook his head. None of the comments on past videos seemed to catch on to the symbiote looped around his neck. No one even mentioned a snake or a worm or even an out of place noodle. “Why?”

“You keep saying we instead of I.” Venom curled into his neck in a constricting hug. “I decided I would be a visible companion so you look less weird.”

Eddie nearly protested before remembering how many times he’d had to awkwardly cut and voice over sections where he’d caught a stray we instead of an I or an our instead of a my. And as many as he caught, he was sure some still slipped through the cracks.

“They did,” it assured, rubbing the teeth at the side of its mouth against Eddie’s stubbled cheek. I disliked all the comments so they would go away, but I thought I could also be our we on camera.

“Ignoring your awful phrasing–” Eddie reached up to rub and smush the corner of Venom’s jaw to keep it from nipping at him “–that’s not a terrible idea. Why didn’t you just tell me?” The answer was pretty obvious, but Eddie wanted Venom to admit it.

I just wanted to fuck with you.

—

Selected Comments

HanBanan: Wow! Important topics ofc, but I love seeing the scenery change behind u!

Daftadil: you shouldn’t praise him, he’s a criminal on the run from the law he;s trying to escape justice for the damage he’s done just trying to hide!!!

Raison: He’s a person of interest at best, wtf are you even on? Besides all of those countries have extradition treaties with the US. If he was really wanted, he’d be caught

Herps4Life: Is this the first time you had your snake on camera?

EBFan: Nah, he had him way back in at least the cactus poaching vid, maybe earlier.

Herps4Life: Awesome, I’m trying to figure out what kind of snake Venom is! Obviously some king of melanistic morph, but idk, idk

EBFan: GLHF man, no one’s been able to figure that out

YoItsAliens: I don’t get why ppl keep linking me these videos, it’s a fucking snake.

Nevnom: but its not its aliens, so many aliens, at least five aliens

YoItsAliens: Fuck off man, it’s just a fucking snake

—

“Nevnom? Why’d you name your puppet account Nevnom?” Eddie tried and failed to stop himself from laughing as he read the comments on their latest vlog.

“Typing is hard, shut up.” 

#venom #eddie brock #my writing #holiday 500 fic #venom symbiote

[honeybcj]

rosekiller moodboard for my fic show me those pretty white jaws (barty-centric)

barty falls from the hands of god, and finds eternal glory in the arms of another boy / “that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor” thessalonians 4:4

#rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #fic: show me those pretty white jaws #moodboard

[cherrysoulth]

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 2: Match in the gas tank

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9954

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading 🧡

The silence quickly spread across the room. He wants that kind of social pressure on you. He wants you to feel the tension of the expectancy on you to give the right answer.

"I. Am. Negan." You say in a firm tone, as his eyes study you closely.

You realise now why he chose this moment and does not wait for you to be more integrated. Being Negan means giving up your identity to be part of the team, doing things as a group, as Negan would. If you were not Negan, your attack on George would then have been an attack on Negan. So, even if you don't mean it, it was the only possible answer.

"That's true, you fucking are!" he smiles at you with a wolf grin. "Let's see what succulent dinner my wives have made tonight. See what I was talking about? This will be my treat for your cooperation earlier. Still though! You can ask for anything you want." he says, rubbing his hands first then looking at you from up with a smile. "Anything..."

After that little moment of initiation, you follow him through the backstairs in the building, to the top floor where his chambers are. Two beautiful women in elegant black dresses are waiting, leaning on the frames of the double doors. They both look surprised to see you but not a single word leaves their perfectly painted lips.

"I'm going to make myself comfy and then I'll show you around." He gestures for you to come into his room but you stay in front of the open door, seeing how black and grey reign in his private space. It looks fancy, neat, with the big squared windows giving light to the space, it contrasts the general shadow staining the hallways on your way here. One that isn't real an illusion feeling towards the unknown. What is his life like when he is there, alone or with his wives? His mouth twitches, followed by a raised eyebrow in what you interpret as his way of saying 'Ok, don't come in then'.

You watch as he takes his jacket off and does the same with his white tee. Now, you can see his toned back and some tattoos on his body. An old marine unit sticks out in his upper arm, as the only one with known meaning for you. The rest seem pretty personal, you would need to ask about them to get more understanding.

He's not too muscular but sexy as hell. Gorgeous. It stirs those basic instincts in you, making you want to kiss his jaw, his neck, his throat going down his chest. Bite him, lick him. You gulp, without realising. As he grabs a clean piece of clothing and, he reprimands you , with fun, easily read in athe singsong tone.

"I know you're staring."

Instantly you look away towards the wife at your right, then to the left one. They both are giving you a pitiful look. You can only guess it's because Negan can't see them. You've seen their earlier reaction when he arrived: fear. Almost perfectly covert with stoicism but too familiar to miss. 'Why do they fear him? They are his wives. Is he mistreating them?' The idea angers you.

"You ok? Have you seen a ghost?" asks Negan, snapping you out of your thoughts, being just a few centimeters right in front of you. Then you notice the wives are back to staring to the front again, like two beautiful fallen angels protecting their master's door.

"Yes. I mean... No. What are we having?" you wonder in an almost childish tone following the rhythm of his earlier reprimand, letting him pass and following his way. 'Why is everyone so scared of him?' Then something twists in your stomach, sensing the danger possibly creeping in the shadows, from the nervous atmosphere suffocating the room..

As you take a tour through each floor, you can observe there's a general flow in the decoration, since his living room matches his quarters and at the same time is similar to the one in his wives' dormitory. Negan has shown you around when he's decided to 'ask' a subtle order- the wives to add another plate for you at dinner and the four women in that room glanced at you sympathetically while Negan explained to you how having his wives can make him feel human again.

Those stares on their own, would have pissed you off at another time but for some reason, it hasn't hit yet. You are not sure what that look is for, anyway. 'Do they think I'll become a new wife or something...?' you brush it off, not really caring about what they might think about you.

You see the general palette: black, grey, silver, champagne and gold. Except for the flowers on the table: red velvet roses. Perfect, as if they were specially chosen for an advertisement. Everything looks as if you are not at the end of the world at all but in a luxurious house, except for the windows that shake you back to reality. Dust stains them since there's no way to clean them from the outside at this height, but you can still see through them clear enough, the extension of terrain where walkers may lurk between the trees. The outside world that once was precious to look at from above but now just makes you think how harsh it is to walk in it. Truly harsh.

You are surprised by Negan's classy ways. You would have expected something more like a gangster-style kind of thing; sexist, with strippers or at least a pool bar. Maybe because some of his guys look like the kind that lack such classic taste, who prefer vulgar stuff and looking at a woman like they are meat, only made to please them. Maybe you are just judging by bad experiences, you don't know these people anyway, because you have found this place to look like a king's harem instead.

You used to like motorbike gangs. Most of them were cool, some were even hot. Usually, you got involved with a guy from a club and fled before things got too serious. Especially if they got emotional.

Your mum and dad had you and your brother at a young age as a consequence of their love. He was a police officer and ended up being shot when he tried to arrest a thief. That was one of the reasons for you to avoid falling in love with someone, that fear of people dying on you. But a broken heart was the main reason.

You had a boyfriend once and you fell in love blindly. The guy was too broken or you were too young and inexperienced to help him at all. You tried your best, god knows you did, but it all ended up as a useless effort.

He had been your first love, your first in all and that always leaves a mark.

You avoided drugs and guns too, even though you knew some people inside the gangs worked on that. You were just a hangar under or maybe they considered you a lay on, - although you never heard them use that word towards you because of your brother's association with a club. If they ever did though, you were deaf to stigmas in order to avoid being banned from entering a club, for causing trouble because of those comments. You needed to be thick-skinned when it came to male-centred clubs because sexist jokes or comments were almost the norm.

The percentage of drug dealers in motorbike gangs was really low but you happened to come across the wrong people a couple of times. Especially when it came to your ex-boyfriend's brother who was a dealer and a consumer. 'Even with that, those were easier times,' you think 'Or at least I didn't have that many life-threatening situations...' Your brother and your ex made sure to keep you away from trouble as they knew what was behind the curtains and wasn't shown publicly.

His wives are already seated at the table when you snap back into your current reality. As he properly introduces them to you, you notice that they are all dressed in black and high heels like the other two, they look ready for a party in the hot spot club of the moment. But it seems more like you are at a funeral with the kind of tension coming from them with the; 'I don't know what to say' hanging heavy in the air. You think that someone else, in your place, would feel uncomfortable because of it but you like them, like someone that enjoys a bird that's inside a cage. Beautiful creatures on display.

Some people feel the need to free them, and you are that type.

You do not understand how their relationship with Negan works. So far you get that Negan likes to explain things loud and clear, so you probably just have to ask a question, sit down and listen but you don't know if it is a sensitive subject to break on your first night in this place. Especially in front of his wives. 'Six wives!' you think. 'What is he trying to compensate for?'

The wives almost don't say a word during the dinner and you just add the necessary conversation just to keep Negan talking. You need to know more about him, how he thinks, how he moves but he starts to talk about the attack on his outpost and the fact that it has to be a group running around his territory without him knowing who they are. He seems pissed about it again by the way he chews on the bread. The ones he knows don't have enough nuts to defy him this way, according to him.

"So, honey, what have you seen before you arrived at the mall?" he asks before putting the fork with the last veggies in his mouth. The redhead wife, who presented herself as Frankie, looks at you for a second, seeming surprised.

"Do you want a full report of the situation surrounding your safe perimeter or do you want just the general concept? I'm gonna need some maps and our current location, to be able to do the first but in general, everything is screwed up. I've seen a couple of places where you can get interesting stuff, useless for other groups, useful here." you explain, while you play with a pea with your fork. Sherry, at this point, asks if you need to be left alone.

"No, it's fine, finish your dinner, sweetheart," he tells her in a gentle tone and then returns his attention to you. "So, hearing the way you said that, it sounds as if you had military training. Were you infrom the Army?" he asks genuinely curious but with his normal tone.

"My mum was. She taught me to be the tough person I am now," for the way he looks at you fully focused on your words, you understand he wants you to keep talking. "She died a few months ago, along with my brother and I left the group I was with. No hard feelings, no shit, I just couldn't stand to care about someone else... and see them die too." Then you see something in his eyes like it resonates with him, something deep down his soul that he shows from his heart, just for a second. Only to compose himself with that intimidating look that clearly hides his feelings.

'That ain't about the men he lost last night' you think. 'Who have you lost, big bad wolf?'

After the wives leave for the night, you two stay chatting about all kinds of things that come to mind. Just as if you were two friends catching up with each other's lives after a long time apart. At least that's how one could see the scene because there is a point where you can tell he's somehow letting his guard down with you with how he speaks and what he says, even his gestures.

It's not difficult to know, aside from his comfortable stance of walking around the world like he owns it, he's always aware of everything. And at the end of the day, it must be exhausting. Even with that in mind, you can't fully pity him for what he is and what he means to other people. There's also the fact of how easy he's making things for you, when you are sure there's others who have had to claw their way up to the top. Or so you've assumed from what George said.

It means he has something in mind for you. Things are never this easy and when they are, there's always something behind it. There's always a price to pay. Breaking the silence that's formed after your internal cognition, you excuse yourself, wanting to get back to your room and he insists on escorting you.

"It's been a pleasure, Negan. It was the best meal I've had in a long, long time," you say to him when you are just a few steps from your door. "Thank you. Have a nice sleep. I'm sure I will." you give him a little smile, more out of tiredness than gentleness.

"No goodnight kiss?" he questions, when you open your door, putting an arm against the door frame with a smile, while you enter backwards to keep facing him.

"I don't think so," you answer, arching an eyebrow while turning to take off your jacket and leave it draped on a chair.

"What a shame! Maybe tomorrow... Goodnight darlin'." he says, staring back at you for a second with that smile before he starts to walk back to the corridor. You stand there listening to his footsteps retreating as he walks away. It has been an intense day but at least tonight you have one less worry: you aren't going to wake up with a walker chewing your face off. The rest is just the same.

It takes you practically seconds to fall asleep once you get inside the covers and your head falls onto the fluffy pillow. Your chat with Negan lasted until the early morning, when everyone seemed to have gone to bed, quietness reigning inside The Sanctuary and you are very tired already from sleeping rough on the road. When you are alone, time seems to lose its sense. At some point you stop counting, now you can't remember how long you have actually been alone. You think it has to be at least six months for the seasons' change but that isn't precise enough.

No nightmares this time, but no dreams either. Just the whiteness of an empty mind. At least that is the sensation you feel before the knock on the door breaks your state of mind travelling nowhere and you wake up startled. For a second you panic 'Where the fuck am I !?' as you frantically search for the knives on your belt. Then you remember everything that happened the day before and breathe, as you stand to look through the dirty glass of your window. This new day is starting to break, you can see it in the faded purple and orange that stain the horizon. You wonder what time it must be until you remember the clock. Half past six. 'Why!?' you roar internally for whomever it's outside the door.

"What?" you voice out in a dry and moody tone as you open the door.

"Good morning sweetheart...Uuuh...Nice panties." says Negan, who's already resting his forearm on the door frame. You remember now that you took everything off and just left your panties and top on. 'Like he hasn't seen a woman in her underwear...' "You ain't wanna go out like that, right? So hurry up and get dressed, it's time to see what kind of cards you keep up your sleeves." you have already started to dress before he's even ended the sentence. "So," he says as he leans with his right side against the door following your every move with his dark eyes. "Today you'll go with Arat. You're gonna check the places you told me about yesterday. And that better be good, 'cause I'm coming too." he adds with a grin and some brow raising.

"I thought the king would be too busy doing..." you roll your wrist while looking away as if you are thinking. "Whatever kings do..." you conclude looking at him. "If they do anything at all," you add in a lower tone, as you turn around to pick up your backpack from the closet.

"You think you're funny, uh?" he says, faking offence. When you turn around his smile tells you he did find that funny.

"You look like you had a good fu--sleep last night." 'He's not your friend. His private life has nothing to do with you.' you think while tying your boots. To your surprise, there's no immediate response or a joke and when you look at him, he seems to be trying to decipher you as if you were talking another language.

"Are you... jealous?" he asks you as if having a lot of fun with the question. You know he is joking but you roll your eyes. "The candy shop is open for you too, darling. You just have to ask for your favourite sweet," he adds, bouncing his knees thrustingraising his pelvis, as a sexual insinuation.

"Jealousy is for insecure people or those who see a cheating bastard on their partner or cheat themselves. Besides...I should feel or have something for or with you for that to be even possible. So, no. I'm sorry for your ego but the answer is no." you answer, as you walk to the door expecting him to move aside to let you pass but instead he walks towards you. "I don't want sweets either. You can get decayed teeth." 'I can be metaphoric too, you know?' you add for yourself.

"I know I'm growing on you. Since the moment we met," he tells you, with a hot voice that runs chills down your spine. 'What if I do? It doesn't mean anything is gonna happen.' you say to yourself. He gets so close, his mouth is almost touching yours. "Besides...We do have something." that thought gets lost in your mind when you feel his breath on your mouth and kiss him, letting passion do its own work.

You put your hands around his nape between his deliciously warm skin and his leather jacket. Your lips smoothly caress his and you feel the wetness at the centre, inviting the caress from the tip of your tongue before you deepen the kiss. Then you stop for a second, without letting him go, just to take his lower lip between yours. Just after a second, you're back to attach your mouths again. Meanwhile he grabs you by the thighs to put himself between your legs, then moves to press your back against the wall. But when he puts his hand under your top where it meets your hip, something switches inside your head.

"Ok, ok, ok. You proved a point here." You say, breathlessly. To that, he lets you down softly.

"I'm not sure about that. I think I could keep with this all day long...Just to make sure you get it." he says without moving, proudly looking at you from above, with a mischievous smile.

"I don't think that's gonna happen." then you recall that's what you said last night. 'Be more true to your word if you want to be taken seriously.' you tell yourself. "What I mean is, stop playing with me. I don't want this mess. Just be with your wives and leave me out of it." Just as soon as you say that, you leave your room with the devil hot on your trails if chased by the devil.

Minutes later, you ask the first Saviour you find in the hallways where to go to find Arat because all corridors are so similar you are not even sure where you are anymore. You find her near a truck. Negan is already there, bouncing and giving orders while some jump in vehicles and head out. As soon as you reach Arat, Negan gives you two maps and instructions, acting as if you are just any other Saviour. Exactly what you want, even though you still have the taste of his mouth in yours and it's driving you insane.

It's been too long in abstinence and he's like the red juicy apple for Eve.

You and Arat are meant to go to the head of the convoy, just behind Negan's truck. There are another four trucks that will take other routes with him, to be able to check other spots near the one that's been chosen for you; the abandoned school, to try and find out if there's anything interesting.

When everything started, the schools were used as camps for the special forces because of the open spaces and many classrooms. So there could be something left behind.

But you don't get that lucky. After expecting to find a good load of guns, it seems that the army left only a few men here. As far as you can see, they were attacked by walkers while they were trying to move the few survivors to the military helicopter. You two start clearing out the outside from the last walkers wandering around and decide to leave the inside of the building for later, in case a herd decides to appear and you lose the chance to pick up the stuff that's waiting outside for whoever wants to take it.

You start checking the place for any weapons left on the floor and any car that might still be useful.

"This one is fine," you say to Arat after checking a four-wheel engine but after looking for the keys in every place inside the car, it comes up empty. "It needs a jump starter, the keys are nowhere to be seen," you tell her, then notice she isn't near anymore, searching for her you see she's putting a couple of assault rifles and some ammunition inside the cab of your truck while she keeps an eye on where you are.

Then, both of you walk to a unit for medical supplies in sync, you open the door like the SWAT would do and a walker comes out after a few seconds, falling through the stairs. Just to find himself stubbed with a throwing knife. You two enter and check if there are no other walkers inside. The place is clear and kind of clean, with only little stripes of skin stuck to any sharp edge as if the walker has been moving around the room attracted by something that's been outside.

"Pick up three plastic boxes." Arat orders, so you walk outside directly to the van.

"Kyle, do you see anything?" you ask through the radio to one of the Saviors. His mission is to look after you and Arat from a highway road next to where you are. He's using a sniper to see more accurately if anything moves around to the camp.

"Two lost souls, no horde. I see many walkers through the windows of the building. Be safe." says the man cutting the communications.

When you two have put the medical supplies in the back seat of the truck, you two decide it's time to check inside the building.

You two stay in front of the door for a few seconds before pushing the entrance open. The hallway is clear all the way along the school, as you move around to take the fire extinguishers and other supplies that were left along the walls. Mainly boxes with basic camp supplies such as; torches, batteries, pillows, blankets, disposable medical outfits and masks that you two put on a metallic trolley. Next to it, you notice an exhibitor with yearbooks and trophies. Taking everything to the truck that Arat has now moved to the front of the building to ease the work.

Once you've emptied the corridors, you two move room to room from the entrance all the way back to the rear doors.

The library is full of books but there's only one body sitting at the study tables with a bullet wound in the head and a handgun still held by his unanimated fingers. Taking the gun and checking there's still bullets inside, you place it in your backpack. You also check inside the librarian's desk and find a gold handwatch and a bottle of Nina Ricci perfume. You place them in your backpack too. On your radio, you notify the scavenge party that's with Negan, about the books on the next channel. The man on the line says they'll pick it all up later. Somehow you expected Negan to answer but you shake yourself out of the thought.

'That can only end badly. Stop thinking about it.'

You meet Arat at the entrance as she walks carrying a box towards the truck. There you take the watch out of the backpack and place it between the sheets inside of it, taking one of the material bedding with you back inside the library, to cover the body with it.

"Why am I not surprised?" says Arat leaning on the door frame. "Don't bother, he's going to be left outside. We don't waste time burying people." You are not surprised because it would be a task that never ends if you buried every single dead body you found. But you still leave the body covered before following her.

As you open the science classroom door, you're met with a huge walker, coming at you, desperate to eat your fresh flesh. You stab him in the cerebellum through the jaw with your hunting knife. But before you are even able to open the lab cabinets, you hear Arat's footsteps approaching you.

"What are you doing here?" she asks impatiently as if you are wasting time.

"We need to pack this stuff, it can be useful for someone who knows how to use it."

Arat raises her shoulders in response. "Fine. But leave it for later, let's keep going. I've found the rest of the supplies in the gym but there's some dead-not-so-dead there." she says.

You take your knives from your belt and nod. You two walk the hallway side by side and push the door open with opposite feet. She kills the first walker with her hunting knife and you throw your knives putting three others out of their misery, as she kills another one from further away before it even has time to come her way. You kill the last one left with your own hunting knife.

"Good job." she congratulates you, as you move to pull out your knives from the putrid skulls.

"Thank you," you nod, as you clean them with a rug hanging from the edge of a bed. There you notice a couple of bodies between the lined-up bunk beds, shot in the head. When you look around there's more. Placed exactly like that. What you hate the most about it, is that it doesn't phase you. Something that would have kept you awake at night almost three years ago, doesn't affect you that much anymore. You've stopped trying to see the person behind the corpse in order to keep your sanity but they were people and they were shot before turning.

"At least they didn't suffer," Arat tells you from behind as she picks up a box.

"But why would they do this if they had supplies?" you wonder. She stops for a second and looks around, then towards the supplies.

"You saw what happened with the helicopter, maybe there were too many of those things around and they thought it was the best they could do." she says as she places a box in your hand. "The ones we've killed just now, they weren't shot. So they didn't have enough bullets to defend themselves and there was definitely not enough food to feed this many people."

"They thought they would starve to death because of the walkers and decided to end it before that," you reply in understanding. Some bodies were chewed on by the ones that died in other ways. "The ones we've found in the other classrooms were locked from the inside..." you tell her as you two walk down the hallway. You can only imagine why. "We should park the truck next to the emergency door, we'll go faster. I'll go pack the lab stuff and I'll take it to the gym."

While she manoeuvres the van, you manage to open the cupboards and fit a first cardboard box full of test tubes and other glass materials. You decide to leave the chemicals for later and run to pick up the trolley from the entrance to place the boxes in it and go to the gym. While Arat places some supply boxes filled with dry food and other survival supplies, you position your boxes in the gap behind your seats. Pulling up the folding bed to be able to place them next to each other and avoid piling them up. Then you jump out to help her with the boxes and a defibrillator that was in the gym instead of the medical unit, for some reason.

When everything is on the back of the truck you two take a walk around the playground at the back of the building, directed to where the four-wheel is so you can drive it to find the rest of your group. That's when you find something you didn't expect in the slightest; a flamethrower. Without thinking twice about it but knowing you probably shouldn't have, you aim it at the school bus, which is already a little bit tatty and shoot against it.

'I might never get another chance...' you think with a smile on your face.

"Did someone hate school?" you hear Negan from the radio in a fit of laughter, probably watching the scene from the highway too, and in a matter of seconds Arat appears.

"I wouldn't have guessed this would happen today. Now, I know you're having fun, but, stop playing with that shit. I want it." he says, the last part with a stark, authoritative tone that reminds you which position he holds above you all.

You don't answer to the radio but roll your eyes as Arat gets down from the cabin and walks towards you, along with the radio in her hand and a cheeky smile. When you start to walk towards her, you hear a weird noise, like metal cracking and you two drop to the floor just as an explosion bursts behind you.

"Are you psychotic!?" asks Arat, not smiling anymore and still on the floor. The noise of flames and metallic parts falling around is almost deafening

"What the hell just happened!?" you ask, eyes wide open in shock. Your confusion clears, thinking you were being attacked before you realize what you've just done.

"You did it, you silly bitch!" she says laughing from the depths of her lungs. "What are you surprised about!?"

When you look behind, the bus you've just burned is all messed up with pieces of it surrounding you. You two were lucky to not get badly hurt or winding up dead by the shrapnel. You just have a few cuts, the same as Arat.

"Was that supposed to happen!?" you ask even more surprised now that you understand the mess you've just made. She shrugs her shoulders.

"Are you guys ok!?" you hear Negan's voice over the radio.

"We are heading in your direction, are you under attack?" says Dwight, getting on the frequency. You hear the sound of their engines in the distance.

"Negative. I just bombed a school bus!" you say, starting to laugh. "Oh my God! That was...fun," you say as you keep laughing.

"How old are you? Ten?" Dwight replies, trying to sound serious but you can hear in his tone he's actually amused. "Be careful that's sure to call the attention of the walkers," he warns, cautiously.

"Don't be such a pussy, Dwight! You think I'll let the ladies be eaten like a red velvet cake by those tasteless pieces of shit?" says Negan. "Not on my watch," he adds, with no reply from Dwight. Not that he expected one, of course. "Coast's clear, ladies. Pack whatever you found and get hell out of there 'cause we can't see shit through the woods."

"Yes, sir." you hear Arat answer dutifully through her radio. "Seems like we are done here," she tells you while turning towards the truck.

You put the flamethrower with the rest of the stuff in the trunk and make sure everything is safe inside for the journey. Then you head to the road following her with the car, you see through the mirrors that some walkers are arriving at the place.

'What counts is not the amount, it's their position and they are coming from everywhere.'

"Negan, you see that?"

"Hm... Yeah. It might be risky just for some books." he says. "Boys, turn around, we'll pick up the readin' if we drive by. Another day," he orders.

When you two meet with the rest of the convoy, you find Negan staring at you as if he's going to lecture you like an undisciplined child. Instead, he just checks what's in the back of the vehicle to have an overview of everything.

"Well done! That's a good load!" he says, with a smile that doesn't fool you or anyone who knows him. The tension in his voice says otherwise, and you are unsure if he's even trying to hide that fact. When he gets near his car, you realise that he's having the courtesy to wait for you two to be alone to say whatever he needs to. From what you've picked up from Arat, Negan's very public about everything. So it has to be bad. "Alice, you'll drive with me. I think we have to discuss some of the rules again." Just like that, without giving an option, he jumps inside his car and puts the engine on.

You hop in and wait for some shouting and blaming but instead, he remains silent for a bit

.

Come as you are by Nirvana sounds on the music player masking the silence.

"What in the fucking fuck were you thinking!?" he says suddenly while looking at you sideways. "I'm good at reading people and I don't fucking think you are one of those kamikaze shit-fucks who don't give a fuck about dying or getting someone else dead. SO. Tell me, are you nuts!? 'cause I would like to know before I put someone else at fucking risk because of a sudden fantastic idea you might have..."

"Don't be an asshole! I might seem nuts to you but I didn't know that was going to explode like a fucking balloon!" you respond, rolling your eyes and turning your body towards him.

'Well, I kind of knew. But I thought it wouldn't look the way it does in films.' To that, he calmly pulls the car to the side of the road and with his arm out of the window gestures for the rest of the trucks to keep on their way.

"Ok, then you are just a reckless lady," he says, looking at you as he keeps gesturing. "You are out of the mission. No Saviours for you. I'll find you something to do inside. If that ain't enough, I can be a lot more of an asshole, just try me." he continues looking at you directly, resting his elbow on the top of the headrest.

"Hm, I think that's unbeatable. I think I'll pass, thank you," you say sarcastically, looking at the front quite angry. It takes you a minute to cool down a little and notice that he's right to be angry. Looking at him again, only to see he is giving you the 'no shit' look. "Oh, 'c'mon. I thought you had a sense of humour." you say with a tone still stained with sarcasm causing him to arch a brow, still not smiling.

Then he moves his arm and puts it around your shoulders, and places two fingers down your chin invading your personal space with his body, as he moves. He kisses you, somehow needy, causing you to melt as it turns deeper and sensual, starting to create tension in your lower body. You have the urge to straddle him but instead, you hold yourself back and try to keep up with his kiss. 'He is such a good kisser...' His tongue slides between your teeth and that makes you lose control, pulling him to you by the jacket and cutting the space between your bodies. At the very moment you are about to move on top of him, you hear the growl of a walker as it gets near your side of the car and you pull away quickly.

" 'C'mon baby don't run away again," he says, with a heated tone, almost sweetly, as well as a little bit frustrated. This time it's you who kisses him with your hands at the sides of his face.

"I'm not doing this here with a half-rotten undead dude trying to get into the car to eat our asses off. Simply not my kink." With that, you free yourself from his hold and make yourself comfy on the seat. "By the way, you better not look me down on me like another one of your caged birds or be sure there will never be another kiss for you from these lips. Just biting and blood," you warn him, meeting his eyes directly. To your surprise, he doesn't say a thing, instead, he chuckles and starts the car again.

When Negan pulls in at Sanctuary and you jump out of the car, you listen in to what Simon is explaining to Negan.

There's a place named Alexandria, where the people that killed the Saviours in the outpost live. Then they laugh about someone called Gregory and Negan gives orders to a group to go find those people the next day.

You take the chance to get away and head to the showers. It's not as if he will not know where you are if he wants to, you are aware of that. Even with that, you need some space from him. 'Don't let him play you around. You are stronger than that.' you think. 'It will be just for fun, no emotions involved' speaks your demon, very convincingly.

You step into the cubicle and turn on the shower, the water runs warm just a few seconds later. It falls over your body taking with it the dirt and sweat from your work with Arat. You wonder why you are letting yourself get so carried away with him. You don't even know him. Some of his character traits can be analyzed by his behaviour but you can't really know how he is without being too involved. He does not have friends, only subjects and that's exactly the way he treats them. 'How could I ever get to know who he really is?'

Negan looks like the kind of guy who knows where his place in the world is. Self-confident. But these kinds of things are usually the ones that get girls and women confused, what he does is what matters. How he treats you and the people that surround him, not what he says or what he tries to scheme. The wives' behaviour is a red flag and the smart choice would be to run away. As usual norm noone is ever an exception to the rule if they do it to another person they will do it to you, no exceptions.

Most people who need to exercise control above everyone around them are usually abusers at one level or another. You understand that Negan uses power to control people and also violence to punish those who don't follow the rules. It's an acceptable measure in extreme times like this but still, unacceptable if he overpowers his wives to make them do what he wants. Instead of running like your instinct and knowledge tell you, you choose to stay, thinking that it is too early to judge.

You come out of the shower all built up in your decision, then get dried and dress in the same clothes you wore the first day you came here. Clothes aren't so difficult to scavenge but someone's bothered to wash them and leave them folded over your bed. Thing that you appreciate since you've been in this placeset is, without any doubt, it's very comfortable. You finally put on your new boots. When you go out, there's no one in front of the bathroom but still you walk to your room stealthily. You come across Sherry who seems to go around just as careful as you do. For good or bad, you think maybe that's a sign from the cosmos to ask her some things.

"Sherry, can I talk to you?" she gives you a suspicious look, as if she thinks you're untrustworthy. "Please," you put your hands together, pleading.

"Sure, follow me," she says and, with an unsure look in her eyes, leads you to some back stairs that don't seem very busy. "Go ahead."

"It's about Negan. I need to know how he is." First, she seems troubled, then she looks around worriedly. "It's just that I need to know what happens when there's no one around," she seems confused at first but then her eyes turn a little more soft and you read sadness in them. Suddenly you feel disappointed about Negan as if you expected something better. "I mean, how is he with you when there's no one around or when there's just the wives with him?" you clarify, in case she's taken the question as you lusting over her husband.

"He doesn't hit us if that's what you're asking," she says, leaning on the wall behind her but looking at the ceiling. "But he has terrible ways to make you do what he wants," you look at her horrified and your stomach curls. "Well, I don't mean in a sexual way... He's against rape as you might know already and he gives us protection. He's a gentleman in that way but we're with him because that's all we could do or we had no other option." She explains to you her story, when her sister Tina, said she would think about Negan's marriage proposal. Her and her husband, Dwight, tried to escape, but Tina had died and they had no choice but to return, she had to marry Negan to save Dwight's life.

"So you two... Shit... That sucks..." you mutter. She just gives you a nod and you don't want to bring her down with memories.

"One way or another, he always gets what he wants. If you give it to him it'll make your life easier, believe me." She then explains to you about the other wives.

You are furious and want to face him, even though you know it wouldn't be a smart move. 'How can he be such a bastard to make people abdicate their will like that. He's a fucking dictator. I already knew that but he's definitely not a clean-handed one...' He has a full army with him so it wouldn't be very smart to threaten him physically to leave you alone. You are not getting out of this place, now you know for sure. It would be smart to do your best with the situation.

"Ok, thank you for your time." you say, softly.

"I'm sorry if I broke your fairy tale," she says genuinely, making you think that she thought you might be falling in love with Negan. 'If they think that, maybe Negan does too,' you think. 'That could be an advantage.' You don't say anything to her to make her think otherwise, instead you part, walking back to the corridor. Before the door to the backstairs closes behind, you hear the sound of a lighter.

You take your time, caressing the walls with the tip of your fingers. When you enter your room it catches you off guard that Negan's there, sitting on your bed with his left ankle on top of his right thigh and dropping the weight of his torso on his arms, tilted backwards. Lucille's resting on his lap.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, in an annoyed tone sounding a little bit more pert than you meant to. "It's wrong to invade other people's privacy, you know?"

"The last time I checked, this was my fucking building and the questions were asked by me. Have we changed the roles? Because fuck, I had no fucking clue." he says narrowing his eyes as a way to intimidate you but when he sees that you don't change your expression, he looks at you like: 'What's wrong with you?'. Maybe he's being genuinely himself but he definitely hits a nerve. 'I can't just act like I'm dumb and let him get away with everything.'

"I'll just tell you this once: I'm not below you, more than an employee for its boss. And with this, I mean that I respect you and you respect me. Understood?" you say without any kind of fear, before he opens his mouth.

"What a nerve! How dare you," he replies, with a rough chuckle. It seems to you as if you have pointed out something obvious to him. You expected another kind of reaction but for some reason, he hasn't considered your claim a problem. Maybe it's because you are alone. You get that's your only advantage over all these people. "As I tried to make you understand, I have my tactics to make people do what I want but my only intention with that is to create a chain and order. Not to abuse my position of power."

'Liar.'

"When people follow the rules everything is fine, they produce and receive points for it but I don't intend to dominate what they do with the rest of their free time in certain terms. The same goes for you. There's also the fact, that I have a fucking soft spottingle for you, I think I've been pretty clear on that. But you are not bound to anything, sweetheart. Everyone has a choice, even if they take dumb ones."

'Do we? Do you even know how untrue that is?' That's just a bunch of lies but he really seems to believe his words so much, if you didn't know any better, you would believe him. It pisses you off.

"Till when?" you ask, frowning. You are so furious that you let your tongue loose. If he wants you around, he's gonna get what that means. "Until you get fed up and decide that there is something you can hurt me with to convince me?"

Sherry told you that's how he got three of the wives and you're definitely not accepting that. "I don't have a family, so you have nothing to grab me by the balls with. For now. Should I keep an eye on not making friends, so I don't make them a target of your anger when I don't do what you want?"

"Watch that tone," he warns, suddenly serious and sitting rigid on the bed, staring at you with a 'Be careful.' written in his eyes.

"What if I don't Negan, you gonna kill me?" you say expressionless, letting your hunger for balance and justice get the best of you. "Come on, do it, who the hell cares? Show me what you got."

He looks at you, furious, and stands closing the distance between you but you notice he leaves Lucille on the bed. He approaches you quickly and without warning, as he raises you by the thighs, kissing you. His lips own yours hungrily and makes way for his tongue to invade your mouth while backing you against the wall. His taste raises your skin in goosebumps and suddenly you forget that you're angry. His mouth descends to your neck and you lose the north. You feel that pressure coming down your stomach to the innermost part of your being but it is his hands moving towards your rear that shoot something inside your head and there's no turning back.

You slide your right hand behind his neck from inside his jacket, while your left-hand goes down between the two of you searching for the end of his white shirt. You slip your hand underneath and find yourself in direct contact with his skin. His toned torso tightens and relaxes with the movements of his breathing, his heated skin feels so smooth under your fingers.

You feel him hardening like a rock right against your centre, making you lose the relaxed rhythm of your breathing when he breaks the last of the distance between your bodies. You gently bite his lower lip, pulling it towards your mouth and intensifying the kiss. You feel like a drug addict about to receive a dose of your favourite high, except that this time it's superior quality.

You drag your nails gently over his abdomen, wishing to leave a mark on his skin as your hand travels lower to the button of his pants, while your lips stay moulded to his. You begin to introduce the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his underpants.

"You see I wasn't kidding, huh?" he says confidently, half-laughing in your mouth but making space between you so you can manoeuvre.

"Shut up..." you reply, stopping your hand from going further. You move your hands against his jaw as your lips explore his, parted, tongue sneaking inside his mouth to caress his with the tip, an invitation to dance. His tongue responds, twirling around yours, dominating the movements. He can't avoid grunting, as your hips push against him in pleasure.

He whisks you over to the bed, discarding Lucille out of the way but leaving her carefully standing against the bedside table. Then he liyes you down, like a fragile piece of crystal, appreciating the lines that form your body, focusing on the ones in his direct line of sight, the way your top hugs the sensual curve of your breasts. As his eyes grow with lust, his head is working on what he wants to do to you while he takes off his jacket and places it on the armchair in front of the TV unit.

As he walks back to you he stops for a second staring at the image of you leaning on your elbows watching his every move, studying the frame of his body, the straight, secure, yet relaxed, posture of his back. The way his white t-shirt hugs the width of his shoulders and gets a little bit loose at the end, insinuating an easily accommodating hips size, as tall and broad as he is. When your eyes set on his bulge his smile widens proudly, but your eyes soon move to his feet as he kicks his boots off, triggering you to do the same, eyes still fixed on each other.

"Wait." you ask, before getting out of bed, as he curiously watches your every move. You press the button on the door knob locking it with a click and turn on the music player sitting on top of a bookshelf next to it. It's loud enough to cover up the sounds Negan has been inflicting on you but not so loud to bother anyone.

"Come down to the black sea swimming with me ah-ooh uuh." you sing with it before you turn around walking back to him, circling him as you wrap your arms around his back and hug him from behind, kissing his back before gently grabbing his hand to leading him to your bed.

Your synchronized movements escalate from the foot of the bed to the pillows, with you moving backwards as he crawls with you until he's towering over you. He fits himself between your legs, pulling your hips towards him while claiming your neck. You gasp when you feel one of his masculine hands climb up your side to get under your shirt, raising up goosebumps in its wake. At this point, you know this is going to be worth your while.

'Negan's hot like the damn sun.'

Something visceral inside of you takes over your conscience and you practically wrestle him under you, flipping him over using your hips and legs. You yank off his white tee, frustrated by it obstructing your vision and toss it aside. Finally able to see the full glory of his chest and abdomen, covered in a decent amount of unruly dark hair until it trails down, hiding underneath his pants. The perfect amount on the perfect body.

'Shaved six-pack youngsters are overrated.' your mind defines.

Your red top slides up, slowly, as your hips roll over his hardness to the rhythm of the music. Making it all feel more like a strip tease. A little groan escapes his throat.

Your mouth attacks his neck, nipping and sucking hoping to leave purple love bites but you don't remain there before moving down his chest and stomach trailing soft and poisonous kisses full of desire. That is until your chin meets the edge of his trousers, you lift up to observe him; arms crossed behind his head letting you do as you please while enjoying the view.

Your fingers trace the form of his member, caged inside those tight black pants and his breath halts. Your hips settle over his just to see him react, as you move them teasingly whilst slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. His hands grip your waist tightly before you stop moving them, then one hand moves to undo you too as the other keeps you firmly in place.

"In case you change your mind and go running, this is the moment to stop it. Please, don't play with me," he says and you feel a sense of wariness and frustration in his tone, disguised in sarcasm. He wants you so bad he's letting his guard down just long enough for you to hear that out.

'I'm far away from running, big bad wolf...'

Then he raises his torso and your noses rub against each other. "Oh! Turns out you can ask for things nicely..." you fake surprise. "Will it turn out that you are indeed a charmer, after all..." you say, your nose nudging his again before your lips meet his. Tenderly you bite on the lower with a slight smile, making him grunt a little.

'Fuck. Shit!'. You squeeze your eyes shut. 'This bastard is gonna make you fall for him!'

"Everything ok, babe?" he asks, worrying creasing his forehead.

Just nodding before going straight back to kissing him again, you hope that whatever is starting to grow inside of you for him will die as soon as you see his bad side for yourself. Deciding it's too late to worry, knowing that the fear transpiring all over Sanctuary isn't due to a one time incident but too many.

Getting to your feet at the edge of the bed and pulling his trousers off his long legs. 'Hell if I don't love his body and his height already...' your inner demon sounds, much to your dismay. As you toss them aside too in a mess on the floor, Negan's already sitting up at the edge of the bed, kissing your belly as he slides the fake leather covering your legs down to your ankles. He bites your hip bone making you shiver as you resume your seat on his lap, feeling his warm and full form now that there are not many clothes left between you.

"Do you have condoms?" you ask him, knowing this is the right moment to ask before you get too into it. Knowing if the answer is no you're just not going to do it.

'I should have asked beforehand...'

"Of course, darling." He reaches down to his pants and takes out a couple of condoms from the pocket.

'Great! He actually came here with the intention to get in your pants.' Somehow, valuing the situation, the idea makes you frown. 'Well, who's to blame you for giving into your urges at the end of the world. You could die tomorrow. Although with Negan around it doesn't seem likely.'

"Well, honey, as you may know I'm married to a lot of women." he responds to the expression on your face. "Not all married man take fucking care of this stuff as they should. But if you're gonna cheat, do it safely at least, don't bring a fucking disease to your partner or get your lover pregnant. You don't need to be too smart for the 'better be safe than sorry' shit." you understand his point and find it something to agree with. You rub him with your lower body parts to get him back in the game, although his erection hasn't ceased.

'Hell does he ever relax?'. You notice his body is slightly tense too, you put pressure on his shoulders as you keep grinding.

It has its effect, and you are soon under him as he takes your panties off. 'I guess we are done talking.' you think, right before he lures a moan out of you by attacking your neck, going down your body mercilessly. His teeth meet parts of your body that make your lower body tense, as if he knew where to bite and kiss. He's exploring every inch, getting to discover those little secrets that will make you ready for him.

Your arousal is quick, after who knows how much time since you've been touched like this but at this point you are raging and needy. He must have read it on your face because he rids himself of his boxers as he meets your eyes, pulling the condom open and down his length in no time.

'He knows what he's doing, damn if he ain't hot as hell!"

His tip meets your entrance without wavering from your gaze, attentive to any sign of discomfort,as he slides inside slowly. You notice you didn't quite size him up correctly before unless it's the sheer lack of sex thwhat has made you unprepared. The pressure of your walls trapping him inch by inch of his advance. Both of you seem to have forgotten how to breathe when his length is fully inside of you but he doesn't move, to your surprise. He seems perplexed somehow, with something clearly on his mind.

"Did I leave you drained of energy already?" you say in a mocking-like tone. "You should do more cardio Negan or you will die here-"

He cuts off your prattle with a quick push in before pulling out just as fast, with a smirk of victory. His face relaxes as he moves slowly, studying yours.

'He's trying to see if he's hitting the spot.' your mind babbles.He moves his hips with experience, aiming at the right angle, while grabbing your left thigh to hold you in place, making you feel like you are in heaven. His mouth meets your neck when you let your head fall backwards as your back arches. "Negan..." you whisper.

"M'Right here, babe..." he whispers against your neck. Your only answer are quiet moans. You can feel goosebumps under your fingertips along his back. His mouth meets yours between airy breaths as his pace accelerates, feeling his thickness hit just the right way.

"Oh my God..." your breath hitches as his precise movements build up pressure in your stomach, your impending orgasm looming.

"I know, darlin'..." he mutters in your ear as his pace increases, speeding up your climax and putting you over your limit, until you explode a shaking, quivering mess underneath him. Faster than you ever have and more desperate, as your nails trail sharp lines down his back making him growl deep.

Taglist @stxrg4zer

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

#negan x you #negan x reader #twd negan #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan x oc #negan smut #the walking dead fanfiction

[eeveearoace-creative]

another installment in my (still untitled) warriors fic! :>

cw: referenced animal death (food)

“Kits, I’m back!” 

“Mom!” Moon, Dawn, and Dusk squeaked in unison, tripping over their paws as they raced over to meet the ginger-spotted she-cat. Cherry’s eyes glowed like little amber suns, radiating warmth as she reached down to greet her kittens, purring. 

“You were gone for sooooo long,” Dusk complained, dropping his entire weight on Cherry. She gave him a few teasing licks on the forehead before gently pushing him away. Dusk flopped over, rolling on the ground dramatically until his belly was facing away from Cherry. 

“Where did you go?” Dawn asked, stepping between Dusk and Cherry. Popping his head over his shoulder, Dusk glared at Dawn. She puffed her fur out in rebellion. 

“We’re hungry!” Moon whined, bouncing impatiently on their paws.  

“Hush, now, little kittens,” Cherry soothed. “I had to go out and get some food.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Do you all think you’re big enough to finally try solid food?” Cherry asked. 

“Yes!” 

“I don’t know,” Cherry purred. “You all still seem pretty small to me.” 

“We’re not small!” 

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah! You’re just big.” 

“Big Mom, big Mom!” 

“Well, then,” Cherry mewed, eyes twinkling, “If you’re sure.” 

Gesturing for her kits to follow her, Cherry stepped through the entrance to her den. Dawn scrambled after her, Dusk hot on her tail, with Moon bringing up the rear. 

Moon’s leaf-green eyes reflexively scrunched shut as they stepped into the dappled sunlight. Birdsong filled the air as the sunlight warmed Moon’s fur, a pleasant warmth sinking into their skin. Soft grass shining with morning dew tickled their paws and legs, waving slightly in the light breeze. As the wind tugged gently at their fur, Moon puffed out their pelt to savor the sun’s heat. 

Cherry wrapped her tail over her forepaws as she settled down in the shade beneath a brightly colored tree, multicolored leaves dancing in the air as they fell from its branches. Dawn and Dusk bounded over to her, noses sticking awkwardly in the air as they tried to pick up on the fresh-kill scent. Moon gave their den one last glance before running forward to meet their mother and littermates. 

Eyes sparkling with pride, Cherry pulled a small orange-and-white shape from a hole in the tree Moon hadn’t noticed before. Moon’s whiskers twitched as Cherry dropped it, eyes widening as they picked up on the warm, sweet scent radiating off the shape. Moon leaned forward, jaw opening as their mouth watered, utterly entranced as everything became about the delicious smelling shape. 

“What is that?” Dawn breathed. 

“It’s a squirrel,” Cherry purred, voice bubbling with humor. 

“Oh, oh! I’ve seen one of those before!” Dusk announced. “But it was gray instead of orange, and it was chewing on an acorn. It ran away before I could show anybody.” 

Moon extended their muzzle to take a better sniff of the limp squirrel, gulping up the sweet-smelling air. 

“Go ahead,” Cherry nodded. “Try it.” 

Dawn gave the squirrel one last sniff before taking a bite. Her amber eyes lit up instantly, and she quickly swallowed her mouthful. 

“This is great!” she purred. 

Dusk watched with a bit more uncertainty as Dawn took another mouthful of squirrel. Looking up to their mother for approval, Moon saw Cherry nod encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Moon joined their sister and took a bite. 

Warmth and flavor exploded on Moon’s tongue. It was the first thing they had ever eaten, besides milk – and the one beetle Dawn had “caught” - and it was new, and exciting, and good. 

“Dusk, you have to try this!” 

Dusk’s whiskers twitched. He shifted on his paws nervously before taking a small, hesitant bite. 

“Oh, wow,” he breathed. 

Cherry watched as her kits devoured the rest of the squirrel. Moon stepped back, realizing what they had done. 

“We didn’t leave any for you!” 

“Don’t worry,” Cherry mewed. “I ate earlier, when I was hunting.” 

“I think I ate too much,” Dawn huffed, flopping dramatically to her side. “Now my belly feels all weird!” 

“You should’ve saved more for me!” Dusk complained, swatting at Dawn’s ears. 

“Just because you were being a scaredy-mouse-” 

“Hush. You both got enough to eat.” 

“Yeah...” 

“Okay...” 

“Now, c’mon,” Cherry mewed, stretching as she rose to her paws, “Back to the den so I can bathe you and get some rest.” 

“But I’m not -” Dawn yawned, “- tired! 

“Yeah, we just...” Moon’s eyes dropped for a second, “Just, got out... here...” 

“Come on,” Cherry purred, nudging her kits with her nose. “Back to the den we go.” 

#kaivee's warriors fic #fanfic #my fanfic #writing #my writing #warriors #warrior cats #wc #warriors fanfic #warrior cats fanfic #wc fanfic #animal death #referenced animal death #cherry seeds

[lieutenant-amuel]

Alright, another post of the “my characters now have faces” series. I’ve made this and this post in the past and as always, I use only two picrews: this one for the majority of them, and this one for Señor Bravo (I’d honestly prefer to have all characters created in one picrew so the style was consistent but alas).

This post includes the characters who are quite minor, but all of them have appeared at least twice, so I think they deserve to be visualized, too. Plus, Karel and Laurens are going to be in the next chapter so you can have a clearer picture of them when they appear again.

And there’s also two bonuses :D (because I love all my characters too much, don’t judge me)

Karel Aakster

Karel has black hair, brown eyes, and light skin. All Aaksters are here having sharp facial features because I said so, and he’s not an exception as he has high cheekbones, square jaw, and a humped nose. He also has freckles because I love freckles.

He has not really long hair and a goatee or whatever this kind of beard is called. He also wears glasses.

He’s not tall, ~165 cm, and like his brother he’s a wardrobe, he’s big boned.

Ignore what he wears at all costs. He wears what he wears only because I couldn’t leave him naked. Although, maybe now it’s clear why Frida’s dad didn’t want to develop his fashion house with his brother. And green is definitely his color because Hendrik’s is red, and those colors are opposites so

Laurens de Wit

Laurens is a typical white boy.

His hair is blonde, his eyes are blue, his skin is light. Peak character design.

His face is narrow (I hope it doesn’t sound offensive or off akahdnfk; or heart-shaped, aka the lower part of the face is narrower than the upper one why do I always explain my characters’ appearances with shapes or comparisons what’s freaking wrong with me), he has a grecian nose like Frida, and overall his features are quite elegant.

I have no idea what type of body he has??? Alright, he’s relatively short for a guy (~170 cm or shorter) and he’s just a rectangle, he’s not muscular and I don’t want him to be super skinny either.

In clothes he’s fancy~

Federico Murillo

I honestly have no idea what to say about him XD

Umm hmmm. Okay, first, I’ll make a note that he’s at least 55 years older than Gabe, so in the fic he’s an elderly man (so he obviously has wrinkles and white hair, I won’t emphasize it; anyway, he has a granddaughter that’s been mentioned twice, so I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s old). He has hazel eyes, olive skin, and wears glasses.

His hair is wavy, when he was younger it was brown color. His beard is bushy. As for the face, he has soft and round features.

He’s plump, his height is ~175 cm. As for clothes, I don’t know.

Sebastián Bravo

Yes, his hair, eyebrows, and beard are three different colors ✌🏻 (okay, I can accept him having black eyebrows (because he had black hair when he was young), but his beard is grey, like his hair)

Okay, I don’t have much to say about him, this picrew is pretty good (especially when it comes to the hair), so I’ll just emphasize that he’s quite short (~170 cm) and skinny and overall always looks like he’s judging you.

Inés Rivera

Raise your hand if you remember her.

Honestly, Inés was such a big deal in the first drafts of this story, but then something went wrong XD

Anyway, looks like I’m a sucker for the thin tall (she’s ~172 cm and on heels she’s taller than Emilio >:D) women with sharp features, because she’s not the only one in my fic.

I’ll also add she prefers having her hair in a high bun and she loves floral accessories.

Bonus 1: Valerio’s parents

they both were bitches

Neither of them has appeared yet, but Valerio’s mother is painted on two portraits (so, if WBTL was a TV show, basically, we all would know how she looked already) and Valerio’s father is still a mystery, but we know quite a lot about him, so why not (and his parents are important, maybe not that much for the plot, but for my heart).

Valerio’s mother was a gorgeous woman had dark brown eyes, dark brown super straight hair, and dark skin. Her facial features were sharp, she had high cheekbones and aquiline nose (Valerio takes after her a lot).

She was tall (~173 cm) and big boned, her shoulders were relatively broad (she was a reverted triangle), so people wouldn’t call her elegant or feminine.

But! She was elegant in clothes. She dressed to the nines and had an absolutely refined taste. And since she was a jeweller, she loved jewelry items (and since she was quite prideful as well, she obviously preferred wearing the ones she made herself).

Valerio’s father (I have much less to say about him, ugh) had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. He also had sharp facial features and generally he looked quite rough and mean akhsndjd.

He was tall (~188 cm), big, and muscular which made him look very scary too ahgsbdh and had a scar on his face (maybe somewhere else as well, he was a guard, and a very serious one after all).

As for clothes, he definitely knew his worth and his clothes were supposed to reflect it, so he was quite elegant, too.

The thing you should know about them is that they basically are the same person personality wise but they had absolutely different goals and views, just diametrically opposite, so they hated each other, but Valerio’s mother deserves more sympathy because she loved her son at least. And a lot.

Bonus 2: Animals :D

Because why not.

But to be serious, I think it’s still quite helpful for understanding how they look because I don’t describe animals’ appearances either.

I thought of making picrews for the dogs, too, but since I chose specific breeds for them, it was quite difficult and I just found the pictures from the Internet instead.

Nube

Nube is inspired by the breed dogo argentino. He’s a large white dog who might look a bit scary (he’s a hunting dog) but he loves his owners and can kill for them. Literally.

I also want to make a note that I’m aware “nube” is a feminine word in Spanish (it means “a cloud”). But I got aware of it super late, when Nube’s name and gender were mentioned way too often, and I simply didn’t want to change anything.

So, let’s pretend Ángel thought Nube was a girl when he got him, and when it turned out he was wrong, he just didn’t have the heart to change his dog’s name because he got used to it (and Nube, too) and decided to leave it as it was.

Sombra and Ceniza

Alright, I’ll put them together because I don’t have much to say about them.

Sombra is dead, but she (was mentioned in the latest chapter) was a dog in the Royal Guard school where Valerio studied, and they were really close. Sombra is inspired by the breed calupoh who are also known as Mexican wolf-dogs.

Ceniza isn’t inspired by any breed, I just googled the pic of a black dog so she looked similar to Sombra yet still was different (Sombra had pointy ears, and Ceniza has floppy ears).

That’s it!

#Was Born To Lead #My OCs #I’m not gonna tag them because they’re minor #Sorry #Valerio’s mom actually has two picrews #but it’s a bit spoilery if I can say so so I won’t share it #And I also have picrews of young Valerio Matías and Bernal :D #Yes I love my characters don’t look at me like that

[keicordelle]

I’ve been wanting to play with Thanuri for a while, so I’m finally getting started with a new multi-chapter fic! Following the blossoming of their romance on the First and the development from friends to feelings to partners. I’ll be updating the tags (and the rating, I’m lying to you when I say explicit here -- for now) as I go, but for now, here’s the first chapter! Or, you can read it here on Ao3!

-

Chapter 1: On the Threshold of Fate

The feeling of the wood beneath Thancred’s knuckles was solid, the impact shuddering all the way up his arm as he knocked. Please let him be home, please let him be home... Or, perhaps more accurately: please tell me I didn't subject myself to the wiles of those pixies for nothing. He wasn't sure if the Twelve could hear prayers from the first, but evidently someone could, because he only had to wait a few moments (albeit impossibly long moments filled with bated breath and surreptitious glances for the colorful flutter of wings) before the towering oak door creaked open, revealing the figure of an old friend in its wake.

At least, he was pretty sure that was Urianger standing before him. Thancred’s jaw dropped as he took him in, hardly able to believe his own eyes. Muscles rippled up Urianger’s bare arms, a gold band digging into the supple flesh of a bicep that was nearly as wide around as Thancred’s thigh. Bejeweled bangles and golden bracers hid most of his toned forearms, a spectacle in and of themselves, even discounting the body they adorned. Gone was the frumpy robe and tinted goggles that had shrouded his features for as long as Thancred had known him; instead, graceful black cloth hung almost haphazardly from his broad shoulders, cinched at the waist but otherwise falling loosely about his frame, leaving his collarbones and a good portion of his upper chest exposed. The wide golden collar that graced his slender neck could maybe have been considered a gorget if you were being generous (very generous), though in truth Thancred’s mind was much more interested in the way it drew the eye and glittered so beautifully on him than any sort of defensive capabilities it might offer. More jewels and golden chains draped elegantly over the skirt, the near hip-high slit in the thin fabric almost making Thancred swallow his own tongue until he realized Urianger wore a sort of white petticoat beneath it and was not leaving quite that much of his glorious body on display. Thancred swallowed thickly, more than idly curious what the rest of his body looked like beneath that flowing robe, and he squashed that thought before it could take hold. Had Urianger always been this hot? Because seven hells, he was gorgeous.

Thancred forced his eyes up before looking became leering, though it was probably safe to say he'd already passed the point of staring longer than was reasonable. Soft grey hair framed Urianger’s face in its usual long, feathered locks, unchanged since the last time Thancred had seen him, and he breathed an internal sigh of relief to find at least this much of his friend to be as he'd expected. His beard was still neatly trimmed, arching up to frame his soft-looking lips, which were perhaps a touch thin but certainly nothing to complain about. Thancred wetted his own lips, dragging his eyes higher to find Urianger’s piercing golden gaze upon him, measuring him in turn - if a bit less lecherously than Thancred was Urianger. There was a pleasant warmth in their depths that felt like a homecoming, and Thancred’s heart fluttered in his chest.

"Urianger?" His voice came out in a rather undignified squeak, and he cleared his throat lest he make more of a fool of himself than he already was.

"Thancred, 'tis good to see thee. Pray forgive me for not seeking thee out upon mine arrival in the First; the Exarch apprised me of thine wanderings, and I fear my presence would have been more hindrance than help." Which was probably true, especially if he'd showed up looking like that, but the folded weapon at his back revealed that he had diversified more than just his outfit in the years since Thancred had last seen him.

"Don't worry about it. It sounds like you've got yourself well situated here, with a flock of pixie guards and a library's worth of books to study... But it's good to see you too." Damn good.

Apparently Thancred’s staring was not as subtle as he'd hoped, because Urianger shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot before asking, "What thinkest thou of my new raiment?" He brushed his hands self-consciously down his skirt, and Thancred’s eyes followed the motion before he caught himself and dragged them back up to his face.

"You... you look- good," he spluttered, swallowing back the three dozen more accurate compliments that rose to his tongue, at least two dozen of which were guaranteed to make Urianger blush a scandalized red.

Instead, he offered Thancred a warm smile before his eyes slid past him to land on Minfilia, half-hidden where she huddled behind Thancred’s back. "And I suspect thou art Minfilia, the Oracle of Light. 'Tis a pleasure to make thine acquaintance."

Minfilia squeaked out a greeting that Thancred suspected had less to do with his own reasons for fluster than it did the enigmatic and intimidating figure that Urianger made, towering over them both (and while that was nothing new, the interest it sparked certainly was).

"I sense there is much we must needs discuss," Urianger said with his typical gravity, his attention returning to Thancred. Those golden eyes held his, and he couldn't have looked away if his life depended on it. "Come in, I prithee. I shall put on a pot of tea; pray make yourselves comfortable."

Thancred choked as Urianger turned, revealing the open back on his robe that left broad planes of muscle on display, more of those golden chains dangling from the back of his collar to brush against his bare skin before arching back up into the pin at his shoulder that held his robe in place. Twelve help me. He’s going to be the death of me. Curling his fingers under his palm to deny the urge to reach out and wrap those chains around his hand, Thancred took a steadying breath, reminding himself that this was Urianger, his old friend (even if he inexplicably had the body of a sultry saint), and no, he probably was not aware of just how hot that was.

He's your friend, Thancred repeated more firmly to himself as he trailed behind him, noting absently the dusty surfaces and precarious stacks of books. Not once had Urianger ever shown any sort of interest in him - or in anyone, for that matter. Best to clear his head of any sort of indecent thoughts before they took hold. Besides, Thancred’s heartbreaking days were behind him. He was older and wiser now - and it took remarkably little wisdom to realise that making an unwanted advance on your good friend was incredibly stupid, especially when you'd come to beg said friend for refuge. So he stuffed those rising feelings into the little box in the back of his mind that bore all his woes, and he followed Urianger into his home, settling himself comfortably into his living room and his life as easy as that.

If only it were as easy as that. Somehow Thancred doubted it would go so smoothly. Because if he were being honest with himself, he suspected the fluttering beneath his breast had a lot less to do with a finely muscled physique, and a lot more to do with the warmth in those gilded eyes. And that was going to be a lot more difficult to bury within himself and forget.

Seven hells. Well at least it was going to be an interesting stay.

[Chapter 2]

#FFXIV #ffxiv fanfiction #thanuri #urithan #thancred #thancred waters #urianger #urianger augurelt #eventual smut #but first we have to get through the pining the longing etc #I'm really excited about this one #can't wait to see where it takes me #my writing #first for everything #~K

[quickspinner]

Guard My Heart - Ch 3 Your Heart is Glowing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Read on AO3

With the end of Indelible in sight (if not exactly *near*) I've been putting more thought to this one. Thanks to @fan-written​ for sewing insight when I needed it and to @mintaka14​ for beta reading for me so this chapter could still be mostly a surprise for @livrever, who's my usual beta. Surprise! (ish) 😁

Just a reminder, this fic was planned before Season 4 was released, so pretend everything past Season 3 doesn't exist, because I'm totally ignoring it for the purposes of this fic.

Gotta admit I'm eyeing that chapter count like hmmmmmm so fair warning, we may be looking at more in the 7-10 range (please please let it be under 10).

Also for those who have never worked in retail, POS in this context means "point of sale" not...that other thing. 😁

Marinette did not look like death, she decided as she examined herself in her own three-way mirror. Her suit was perfectly tailored, black with pink accents to coordinate with, but also contrast, the shop’s color scheme. She’d opted for slacks instead of a skirt so that she could crouch down and pin hems if needed, but they were perfectly fitted while still allowing her the range of motion she needed to work. The jacket was a flattering cut on her, the ruffles of her white blouse peeked out of the sleeves and collar, and her hair was done up in a chignon with some artful tendrils curling down around her neck. Her makeup was subtle but perfectly applied. Kaalki had painted her nails with a pretty base color of pink, and Wayzz had carefully, meticulously added tiny Chinese characters for luck and harmony in black, one on each pinky finger.

“You look perfect, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, peeping out from her pocket. 

“I’m so nervous,” Marinette sighed, stepping carefully down from the platform and into the customized, well-padded low heels she had chosen for today. She’d worked hard to make sure they were comfortable, knowing how much she’d be on her feet today.

“It’s going to be okay,” Pollen assured her from the other pocket. “You’ve worked so hard!”

“And your parents have been promoting the shop for weeks,” Tikki added.  

“The management company did a great job with the advertising too,” Marinette agreed, walking to her front door, which was no longer covered in paper. She peeked out at the grandstand set up in the square beyond Luka’s shop. “They hired a band and everything. Luka knows them and he said they’re really good ‘for a pop cover band.’” 

“Speaking of Luka,” Tikki giggled, poking Marinette’s side and pointing through the window. “He’s coming this way.”

“He—oh!” Marinette grabbed the door handle and pushed it open, stepping aside as she did so. She had no idea how he’d been intending to get the door open himself, since he had a to-go cup of coffee from one of the other shops in the row in each hand. 

“Good morning, Luka,” Marinette giggled as he came inside. He was dressed much the same as he did every day, except that his hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and maybe even gelled to keep the sides smooth, and his clothes, while casual, were less faded and ragged than his usual choices. He came in with a self-conscious smile.

“I figured we could both use a pick me up,” he said as he stepped aside so that she could let the door fall closed. “I don’t know about you but I’m nervous as—” He paused when he turned toward her, jaw dropping.  “Wow,” he muttered. “You look amazing.” 

Marinette smiled at him, doing a little turn to show off her outfit. “Thank you. No better way to feel confident than to look your best, right?”

Luka held out the cup of coffee in his hand. “I’m almost afraid to give you this now. Everything in here looks so fancy and pristine.” 

Marinette took the coffee, giggling. “Catch me at the end of the day, barefoot with my hair flying everywhere and wrinkles in my suit.” 

His gaze zeroed in on her then, direct and intense, and Marinette’s pulse sped up. “I absolutely will,” he grinned, and with a clear effort, looked away. “I definitely want to hear how the first day went and I’ll probably be glad to have someone to freak out to.” 

“As if you ever freak out,” Marinette scoffed, and Luka snorted softly.

“You’d be surprised,” he said, shoulders slumping just slightly. “It may not look like most people’s freakout, but I definitely have them. Maybe I should have followed your example and dressed up, because I feel like I swallowed fifty akumas and they’re all crashing into each other in my stomach.” He sighed. “It’s like getting ready to go onstage with Jagged, only worse, because I’ve never done this before.”  

Marinette giggled at the mental image. “You look great, Luka, you’re just fine for the atmosphere you’re trying to create. Or rather, that you create without trying.” She tilted her head slightly as she regarded him more critically. “Although...come with me.” 

She took his coffee from him and walked to the back of the shop, glancing back to make sure Luka was following her. She set both coffee cups on the counter before she pointed to the pedestal. “Up.” 

“Okay,” Luka drawled, cocking an eyebrow before he took the step up. “Wow, this is humbling,” Luka muttered, staring at his full length, three-way reflection. 

“Hush,” Marinette said, pulling open a drawer under the counter to pluck out some supplies. “Take off the hoodie for a minute.”

He did, dropping it off to one side, and then folded his arms over his chest, clearly feeling a little exposed. He eyed Marinette a little dubiously as she approached him with pins attached to a magnet on her wrist.

“Relax,” Marinette murmured as she tugged his arms down so the shirt would hang properly. “There’s nobody here but me, and I’m just going to make a couple of adjustments. You’ll be shocked what a little tailoring can do even for the simplest garments. I’m going to be touching you a lot, so tell me if you start feeling uncomfortable, okay?”

“Sure,” he breathed, hands flexing at his sides. “What do you need me to do?” 

“Nothing. Just stand there and think calm thoughts.” Marinette stepped up on the pedestal behind him. “If I just take in the sides and a little bit in the shoulders…” She moved around beside him, gathering the extra fabric and folding it at an angle with quick, practiced movements. She pinned one side, and then did the other, eyeing the tears in his shirt to make sure she wasn’t pulling them out of shape before she put in the pins. “How’s that? Still comfortable? Take a deep breath.” He did, and Marinette watched in the mirror the way his chest pressed against the shirt. Feeling a blush rise to her face, she unpinned and loosened the fold slightly on both sides, and had him do it again. “Okay, that looks good. This is totally the wrong way to go about this by the way, don’t tell anyone I did it. Normally I would be doing a bunch of measuring first, but we’re pressed for time, so this is going to be quick and dirty.”

Luka coughed, the tips of his ears turning red. “Quick and dirty can be fun,” he laughed into his hand, and Marinette slapped his back and pulled his arm back to his side. 

“Pervert,” she muttered.

“You’re the one with your hands all over me,” he shot back, and Marinette turned red to her hairline. She was actually trying very hard not to think about the body underneath the shirt she was touching. Because she was a professional. 

She sure as hell wasn’t going to let him tease her without getting him back, though. She cleared her throat and then put her hands on his shoulders, putting her chin just over his shoulder so she could look at him directly in the mirror. 

“Take it off, Luka,” she told him, and Luka choked. 

“Unfair,” he muttered, reaching for his collar. 

“You started it. Watch the pins,” she warned him, reaching to hold the hem out away from him. Carefully they got the shirt off of him, and Marinette realized abruptly that she had not prepared for the three shirtless Lukas facing her in the mirror. “I’ll be right back,” she said quickly, and took the shirt and her suddenly flaming face to the back room, flipping it inside out as she went. 

Checking the time, she worked quickly, laying the shirt out to mark her line. 

“What are you going to do?” Luka asked behind her, and Marinette jumped. 

“Luka!” she gasped, putting a hand on her heart. “Are you trying to kill me?” 

“Not yet,” he grinned with a wink, folding his arms over his bare chest, and she squeaked indignantly. 

“Luka,” she whined, throwing a scrap piece of fabric at him that didn’t get very far.

“Sorry,” Luka said, his shoulders curling slightly just like Juleka’s did. “Just nerves coming out, I guess. Anyway, I felt kind of weird standing there like this with all the windows, so…” 

“Oh. Right. I should have thought of that and closed the curtain, I’m sorry.” Stupid. Ugh. Left him standing in the shop half-naked—okay stop thinking.   “Do you care if I cut this?” she asked, turning to her serger. 

“Anything you need to do, as long as I’m dressed when I walk out of here. I’d hate to start rumors.” Luka chuckled.

“I don’t remember you being such a flirt,” Marinette sighed, lining her marks up carefully and checking the machine settings. “Plug that iron in for me?” she nodded over at the iron already set up across the room. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I swear I’m not, I’m just—” He sighed, and reached back to tug on his ponytail. “Sorry.” He went to do as she asked, and Marinette took a breath and focused on what she was doing. She finished the quick seams, setting aside the excess fabric that the serger had cut. Then she took a breath and got up, facing Luka.

“No, I’m sorry,” she told him, pausing to look up and meet his eyes. “I just kind of waylaid you and dragged you into this and I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to make things weird.” 

“No, it’s not that, I—” Luka sighed, as she turned back to the machine. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help. I really do.” 

“It’s only a little thing, I know.” Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly. “But, well. It’ll help, I promise. Most people don’t realize what a difference a little tailoring can make, even on a simple t-shirt, and it’s so easy to do, and...well, like I said. If you’re comfortable and confident in how you look, you’ll feel better able to face whatever comes. It’s a basic tenet of my business and I really believe in it.” She gave him a smile over her shoulder as she took the shirt to the ironing board. “Trust me.”

He smiled back, trailing after her. “I do.” Then he chuckled as he watched her. “That shirt’s probably never been ironed since I bought it.”

“I kinda figured,” Marinette laughed, “but the seams won’t look right until they’re pressed.” Finished, she held the shirt at arm's length and looked it over carefully before nodding and turning to present it to Luka. 

He pulled it back over his head, and Marinette helped him tug it down and settle it. Probably unnecessarily, but she was nervous now, and she couldn’t help fussing over him just a little. When it was on, she ran her hands across his shoulders and down his sides with a satisfied smile before tugging the hem one more time. 

“Not bad for a rush job,” she smiled. “Come and see.” She dragged him back out to the mirror again. “I didn’t change much, just gave it more of a fitted shape for you. Not too tight, I don’t want to take away that relaxed air that you have—”

“I have an air?” Luka asked, expression amused as he stepped up on the platform.

“Yes,” Marinette told him insistently, reaching out to tug the hem of his shirt and smooth out the wrinkles. She put her hands on his hips and faced him to the mirror with a smile of pure pride.

“Wow,” Luka said, blinking at his reflection and turning a little. “That...does actually make a difference.”

Marinette giggled. “Consider it thanks for the coffee.” 

“Aw man, the coffee,” Luka said, turning and hopping down to check the cups on the counter. “Still hot,” he smiled, and took a sip of his. “Good thing you work so fast.” 

Marinette grinned, and picked up his hoodie from the edge of the pedestal before walking over to hand it to him and take back her own coffee. Rather than put it on, Luka looped the hoodie over his arm. 

“I better get back over there and get down to business,” Luka sighed, and smiled at Marinette. “You do look amazing, and you’re absolutely going to kill it today.”

“So will you,” Marinette said, smiling back at him. “We’re going to make this work, Luka. Both of us.”

“Right,” Luka chuckled. “So—here’s to today, and I’ll see you at closing time.” He held out his coffee and Marinette clinked hers against it. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Luka,” she said, and then impulsively, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Good luck today.” 

He moved before she pulled back and kissed her cheek as well. “You too.” 

She got a lungful of his scent, morning fresh with cologne and aftershave, and coffee carried on his breath, and felt the warm brush of his face along hers, and if she hadn’t been holding the coffee, she might have done something stupid, like grabbing onto him to keep him close. As it was, he seemed to linger there by her cheek for a moment as he said, “Thanks for the pep talk. And the wardrobe upgrade.” Then he turned away from her and covered the distance to the door in long strides, gone so fast that she didn’t have to worry about schooling her expression or covering her reaction. 

Marinette went back to the counter on shaking knees and set her coffee down before she dropped it. She leaned against the counter and tried to breathe. She was beginning to realize on a new level just how dangerous it was to have Luka next door. There had always been a certain amount of magnetism between them, but Luka had never affected her like that before...but then she was a grown woman now, and he was very much a grown man, and she really, really needed to be more careful, before she did anything stupid that might ruin their friendship for good. And that would definitely be awkward, considering they were neighbors and both too invested in their new shops to move now.

She couldn’t give him what he deserved, anyway. Better to keep her head in the game and try not to let Luka get too far under her skin. So she was attracted to her friend. No big deal. It didn’t have to be anything.

Marinette took a couple of deep breaths, and picked up her tablet, pulling up her schedule and to-do list. Work. She just needed to work. This was her big day and she was not going to lose her professionalism over a man, no matter how attractive he was. It wasn’t long until opening time now, and she intended to be ready. 

“You’re going to do great, Marinette.” Pollen’s little voice made Marinette jump, and she looked down to see the kwami peeping out of her pocket. She smiled and nodded. 

“First things first,” Marinette declared, swiping over her to-do list with more force than necessary. “Let’s get started.” 

Everything else quickly fell away as she let herself get swept up in the whirlwind of prepping her shop. She made notes as she went through what she hoped would become her morning routine. It would probably take a few weeks to tweak the process until it was absolutely perfect. Marinette had done her best to be prepared the night before, so there wasn’t nearly as much to actually do as there was to check, double check, and fiddle with. The lights on her window displays went out unexpectedly and she spent an anxious half-hour searching for the problem. She breathed a sigh of relief when she got it working again, and then had to go fix her hair and run a lint roller over her suit to remove the evidence of her efforts.

Finally, it was time. 

“Well,” Marinette said, tucking a hand in her pocket to run a finger over Tikki’s head. “Here goes nothing.” She walked to her door, opened it, and kicked down the doorstop to hold it open. “We are officially open for business,” she breathed, flashing a welcoming smile to a couple of the people already strolling down the street. She glanced towards Luka’s shop door and saw him fixing his own doorstop. He took a deep breath, and then glanced up and met her gaze. Luka gave her a grin and a wink before disappearing back into his shop, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his jeans. He really is nervous , she thought as she stepped back into her own space. She fidgeted one more time with one of the dresses on display in the window, making sure the hem was perfect, but mostly just trying to look like she wasn’t about to pounce on the first person who walked into her shop. 

The first hour or two were a little awkward, and Marinette found herself wishing she had Luka’s gift for reading people. Was she being too attentive? Making anyone uncomfortable? She was well aware that she could be a bit much, and she was almost more terrified of overwhelming a prospective customer than neglecting them. 

It got easier, though, as the morning went on, and the sidewalk outside began to fill up with people. Enough people were drifting in and out of the shop that Marinette couldn’t spend too much time with any one person if they didn’t actively want her help, and she began to settle into a more comfortable, professional rhythm. 

Much like in the bakery, people tended to come in waves, and during one of the lull periods, a smiling blond appeared in Marinette’s doorway with a silver tray in her hands and an apron over her front. Marinette greeted her reflexively, though she obviously wasn’t a customer. 

“Hello,” said the cheerful girl, carrying her tray towards the counter. “I’m Cherry, I own the cafe across the street. I just came to offer you a sandwich and maybe drop off a few of our cards if you’d be willing to put them out.” 

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, and then smiled back. “Of course! I’m Marinette.” 

“I know,” Cherry grinned, holding up her tray for Marinette to select a sandwich. There were several individually wrapped and labeled with the main ingredient. There was also a stack of business cards piled on one side of the tray, and Marinette took a small pile from the top along with her sandwich. “Luka told me I should come talk to you about designing t-shirts for the cafe.” 

“O-oh, he did?” Of course he did, she thought as she arranged Cherry’s cards next to the register. 

“He’s so cute,” Cherry sighed, swooning against the counter. “I chatted him up a bit when he came in to get coffee this morning. Doesn’t say much, but he seems like a real sweetheart.”

“He is,” Marinette agreed, hoping she wasn’t blushing as she picked a sandwich and set it behind the lip of the counter. “We’ve been friends for a long time, actually. So, you’re interested in a t-shirt design? It would probably be best if we set up an appointment so we don’t have to rush.” 

“Yes,” Cherry said, looking around the shop, and she looked suddenly uneasy. “Though, I’m not sure this is quite the vibe we’re looking for…”

“That’s okay,” Marinette said cheerfully, pulling up her calendar on her tablet. “I can work with a lot of different styles. Why don’t we set up a consultation, and—” She picked up one of her monogrammed business cards and offered it to Cherry. “There’s a link here to my digital portfolio. Take a look at it before our appointment, and if you still feel we wouldn’t be a good fit, you can cancel the consultation, no hard feelings.” 

“That sounds great,” Cherry nodded, relaxing a little. Marinette wasn’t especially worried. She had curated her shop carefully but t-shirt and logo design had been her bread and butter for years, helping to keep her afloat so that she could work on her more complex design work. Marinette filled out a customer profile for Cherry on the new system with her contact info. 

“That should do it,” Marinette nodded, holding out her hand for Cherry to shake. “I’ll also stop by the shop sometime soon so I can get a feel for the kind of thing you might be looking for.” Marinette glanced at the wrapped sandwiches again and made a mental note to bring over a business card for the bakery as well. “Thank you so much for the food, I hadn’t even thought of eating. 

“My pleasure,” Cherry hiked her tray up onto her hip and shook Marinette’s hand. “We’re all going to be seeing each other a lot around here, so we might as well get friendly with our neighbors, right?” She winked and nodded her head at the wall that adjoined Luka’s shop. “Especially the cute ones.” She giggled, took her tray in both hands again, and went out of Marinette’s door, turning in the direction of Luka’s. 

She seems friendly, Marinette thought drily, and turned on the best smile she could manage for the next group that came in the door. 

As it got closer to lunch time, the shop began to empty out. Marinette found a few moments to eat her sandwich in the back room. It was decent, she grudgingly admitted, but she was still going to pass on her parents’ info. Good bread made everything better, after all. 

The shop was still empty when she stepped back out, and Marinette walked to the door to look around. The band was getting set up, and they’d probably start playing soon. There was a long line out of the cafe and several people were sitting at the little tables in the square. Maybe now would be a safe time to take a few minutes and check out the other business owners on the block. They were all in the same boat, more or less, and there might be opportunities for cross promotion that would benefit everyone. 

She put up a sign on the shop to let customers know when she would return and set out to meet her neighbors. It was an eclectic set of little shops. There was a vintage book shop run by a spritely elderly lady with spikey, bright purple hair and a broad smile, and a pet boutique run by a shy young man who blushed and stammered when he greeted her. Two cheerful middle-aged men were in charge of an art collective selling painting, pottery, and other goods from local artists. Marinette spent more time there than she should have, there were so many interesting things to see! She reminded herself that she needed to be frugal for now but resolved to come by and pick up some special items for her apartment when she had money to spend on such things.

Marinette had to head back after that, unconsciously bouncing a little to the beat of the band playing in the square, but her step quickened as she realized someone was waiting outside of her door. “Hello, I’m so sorry,” she gushed as she walked up, and the tall girl in front of her turned and smiled. “Oh, it’s Marcie, right? Luka’s friend.” 

Marcie ducked her head a little bit and grinned shyly. “Yeah. Luka said I should come check your stuff out. I’m not, um. I have trouble finding clothes sometimes? He said you could help.” 

Tall, broad-shouldered, and buff, Marcie definitely wasn’t the target audience for standard fashion. Marinette, though, was excited at the prospect. “I can certainly do that,” she said crisply, unlocking the door. 

As she was opening the door and kicking the doorstop into place, she heard a familiar name boomed through the grandstand mic. Startled, she looked over to see Luka climbing the stairs of the grandstand with a lopsided grin as the band’s lead singer/guitarist waved him on.

“Oh, he’s going to play?” Marcie said, having turned at the same time Marinette did. “Awesome.” 

The man with the mic handed over his guitar to Luka and grabbed him by the shoulders, moving him over and positioning him in front of another mic despite Luka’s laughing protests. “All right folks, here’s your own Luka Couffaine, owner of the Second Chance antique store there on the corner. Thanks for humoring me, Luka. Love playing with this guy, seriously.”

Marinette covered a giggle with her hand. Luka looked so much more himself with the guitar slung across his shoulders, his hands confident and precise as he strummed the pick down the strings in a graceful motion. Marinette sighed unconsciously, watching the curve of his arm and the motion of his muscles. He put the pick in his teeth for a moment and paused to adjust the guitar strap and a tuning peg. He took the pick out of his mouth and licked his lips, his eyes flicking up to scan over the small crowd. He gave a quick smirk and then looked up at the rest of the band, waiting for the count. 

Marinette's smile grew as she watched him play, feeling a surge of nostalgia and at the same time, a strange sense of disconnection between the boy she remembered and the man on stage. Her eyes widened slightly when he stepped up to the mic and began to sing a harmony with the vocalist. She’d never heard him sing before. 

There was a cough by her elbow and Marinette jumped slightly. Marcie smiled down at her knowingly, and Marinette blushed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him play,” Marinette muttered, reaching up to smooth her hair. 

“You two used to be a thing, right?” Marcie asked, and Marinette spluttered.

“No! No. I mean. There was a thing, but. We weren’t a thing. Things just, um. Never worked out that way.”

“Oh, I see,” Marcie said, nudging Marinette with her elbow. “A missed chance.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. “I hurt Luka very badly back then, I know I did, and...I don’t want to risk that again. This isn’t a good time for either of us, we both have so many things to focus on, and I...I’m not good at relationships. I don’t want to do that to Luka again.”

“Oh.” Marcie put her hand on Marinette’s arm. “I’m sorry. I won’t tease you about it, I promise.” 

Marinette blinked, and then smiled up at her. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” Marcie grinned, and for a while they stood watching Luka play and sing along with the band. 

“He looks happy,” Marinette said, without realizing she’d spoken aloud.

“He really does,” Marcie agreed. “I’m glad. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him really happy. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think touring with Jagged really shook him up and did a number on his confidence. I hope this new start will be good for him, and give him a chance to figure out what he really wants, you know?”

Marinette nodded, sighing softly. “It can be hard, figuring out our dreams don’t really match up to reality.” 

The song ended and the crowd gathered around the square cheered. Luka waved his appreciation, and then laughed when the audience groaned as he took the guitar and handed it back to the lead singer. Luka just shook his head as his friend tried to persuade him to stay on stage, slapped the other man on the back, and descended the bandstand stairs. Marinette blinked as she recognized Cherry at the bottom, holding out a bottle of water to him. He grinned and accepted it, nodding at whatever she was saying before throwing his head back to drink. 

“It’s a journey,” Marcie sighed, and Marinette had to think to remember what they were talking about. “You’ve gotta find a way to live that’s true to you and still lets you get by in the world.”

Cherry cocked a hip and tilted her head as Luka’s focus returned to her. Marinette rolled her eyes and tore her gaze away, facing Marcie so she didn’t have to see any more. “But here, we’re supposed to be talking about you,” she said, feeling a pang of guilt at being so distracted. “Please, come in, I’m sure I have some things that can work for you.” 

Marcie was a fun and challenging client and exactly what Marinette needed to pull her back to reality. Her muscular build reminded Marinette of her old acquaintance Ondine, and Marinette had learned a lot from working with Ondine while she and Kim were dating. Marcie was a bit shy and self-conscious, not confident in her own taste, and it felt good to help her.

Money was an issue, of course. Marinette hated that Marcie and so many others had to spend so much money on clothes just because she fell outside of the traditional mold. Marinette did her best to keep her prices down, but there was only so much she could do without sacrificing quality or undervaluing her own time. Marcie couldn’t exactly afford to fill her closet with bespoke clothing, and buying off the rack wasn’t such a great experience for her either. Marinette put her mind to work, trying to figure out the best way for Marcie to get the most out of her money, and relished the challenge.  

Because she couldn’t help herself, Marinette cut Marcie a deal on tailoring, rationalizing that Marcie would pretty much always need tailoring on her clothes and therefore it was actually good business to offer her a discount up front if it meant securing a long-term customer. Marcie left smiling, with one new outfit hanging in Marinette’s back room marked for tailoring, and an appointment for a consultation on altering some of Marcie’s current outfits. 

Customers had started to pick up again for the afternoon, and Marinette was kept hopping until well after dark. When she finally closed the door at the end of the day, she had to laugh at the image in her mirror. She wasn’t barefoot yet, but her hair was falling down, her suit was wrinkled, and she looked just as tired as she had predicted. Even so, it had been a good, satisfying day, and Marinette was grinning as she closed out her POS system and did a little dance behind the counter. She went through her closing checklist, and dragged herself upstairs. She was starving , and though she was tired, she was still jazzed, and she had a sudden craving for something indulgent. Pancakes and bacon, she thought, as she kicked off her shoes at her door. The kwamis swarmed around her with congratulations and questions, and she laughed as she tossed her suit jacket over the back of her couch and went to get started on dinner. 

She was frying the second pan of bacon when a sharp knock on the door made her jump. She glanced around as the kwamis quickly zipped into hiding, and then went to the door. She had to stand on her toes to look out the peephole, but once she saw the familiar figure outside she dropped back to her sock feet and undid the lock. 

“Luka,” Marinette said as she opened the door. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, I just…” Luka seemed to hesitate, and then let out a gusty sigh and grinned at her. “I’ll be honest, whatever you’re cooking smells amazing and I’m starving. I came to beg.” 

Marinette blinked at him, and then burst out laughing, stepping back to open the door. Luka slouched inside with his hands in his pockets, a self-deprecating smile on his face. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Marinette said, closing the door behind him. “I’ll feed you, and then you play for me. Deal?”

“Deal,” Luka chuckled. “I would have done that for free though.” 

Marinette looked over her shoulder and winked at him as she went back to the kitchen. “I would have fed you for free too. I don’t have a table, so belly up to the bar. I’m almost done.” She waved him toward the stools and went back to the kitchen. She saw Daizzi poking his head out of a cabinet to give her a mournful look and mouthed sorry at him. It was a little disturbing to her how much Daizzi loved bacon, but pigs were pigs.

She flipped the last of the pancakes and tipped the pan of bacon onto the plate, and then turned back to ask Luka a question that she immediately forgot as soon as she met his eyes. He blinked quickly and straightened a little. 

“So how was your first day?” he asked before she could say anything. He looked down and traced the pattern of the corian with his index finger.

“What? Oh, busier than I expected,” she said, turning back to the stove with some confusion. “The promotion and the band and all the grand opening festivities really drew a crowd. Time will tell if any of the contacts I made are worth anything for the future, but it felt good to start with a bang. Yours?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Same,” he said, leaning his chin on his fist. “I was really freaked out at first about actually trying to sell stuff, but in the end it was really just a lot of talking to people, listening to their stories, and pointing them in the right direction now and then. I don’t love the bargaining but the rest of it went okay. Lots of tourists, so the small things moved pretty well. Everybody loved the turtle, by the way.” He grinned, and Marinette giggled. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

The kitchen was so narrow that Marinette doubted she could have shared space with even her mother without several full-body collisions, let alone someone of Luka’s height and armspan, but she tried not to smile as she declined. “I’m almost done anyway,” she said, and then frowned. “Maybe I should have made some eggs. Do you want eggs?”

“Don’t do anything extra for me,” Luka protested, and Marinette rolled her eyes, stepping to the fridge. 

“Thanks for the coffee this morning,” Marinette said, as she opened the carton of eggs, trying to decide how many to make. “It was really sweet of you to think of me.” 

“Well, you’ve always been my lucky charm,” Luka chuckled. “My life was brightest when you were in it. I’m happy to get you coffee if it means you’ll stick around.”

Marinette jolted, fumbling the egg carton. She managed to keep it from tipping and quickly set it on the counter. Taking a deep breath, she braced her hands on either side of it, closing stinging eyes. 

Big hands closed on her shoulders in a tight squeeze, and then reached forward to wrap around her, pulling her back against Luka’s warm body. Marinette’s hand curled around his forearm on instinct and she hung her head. 

“No,” he said quickly, voice low and urgent. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, Marinette, I swear. I’m sorry, I was thoughtless.” 

Marinette opened her mouth and drew breath to tell him it was okay, but the breath hitched in her throat and escaped again as a sob. Luka reached around her to turn off the stove. His hands moved back to her shoulders, coaxing her to turn, and then guided her head to his shoulder as he swayed with her gently, making soothing noises. 

Marinette pressed her face into his shoulder and gripped the back of his shirt, trying to keep back the tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” Luka sighed. “I’m still shit when it comes to saying what I mean. I just...I’m happy you’re in my life again, Marinette, and I hope you’re going to be here for a long time, but—but if you’re not...you need to be you, Marinette, and live your life the best you can. I’d never want to hold you back or, or stop you from doing that, I just…I’m so sorry for making you cry.” He pressed his face to her hair. “I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I swear I didn’t.”  

Marinette took a shuddering breath against him. “Shut up,” she mumbled. “And go get your guitar.” She straightened up, and pushed him gently away. “I’ll be done cooking when you get back.”

He was still and silent for a long moment, as if he hadn’t understood her, but then he pulled back, hands finding her shoulders again to squeeze firmly. “I’ll be right back,” he told her, bending down slightly to look in her face, and then he practically ran out of the apartment. 

Marinette turned back to the counter and buried her face in her hands for a moment. A fuzzy body collided with her fingers and she shifted to hold it against her cheek as Roarr nuzzled her. She heard the stove click back on, and knew Tikki and Daizzi were continuing her breakfast-for-dinner prep. 

“Can I bite him?” Roarr growled, rubbing her face all over Marinette’s.

“It’s not his fault,” Marinette whispered. “He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t know, how could he?”

“Don’t care,” Roarr grumbled, and Marinette had to smile.. 

“I did leave him, emotionally, even if he’s the one who left physically. I was checked out before he left and he knows it. Of course he knows it. He just doesn’t know why, because—” She sighed, tired of the worn path in her mind. He didn’t know, because she couldn’t tell him, because— 

Barkk landed on her shoulder with a little whimper and licked her cheek. “Don’t be sad, Marinette,” he said, and she reached up to scratch behind his ears as well. Marinette heard a few tentative notes from Luka’s guitar next door, tuning. She felt a twinge of guilt for breaking down on him like that.

“I’m all right,” she promised them, drying her eyes on her sleeves. “Okay, go hide before he comes back.” She gave both kwamis a little kiss and a pat before they sailed off, and gave a grateful smile to Tikki and Daizzi as she took back the pans. They each hugged her cheek, and went off to hide, just as Luka knocked and opened the door. He leaned in, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Are you sure you want me around?” he asked softly. “I can order in, or just take the food and go, if you’d rather—” 

“No, no, please come in,” Marinette said, setting plates piled with pancakes on the breakfast bar. “I’ve made way too much to eat by myself, anyway.”

“It’s like you knew I was coming,” he joked as he set his guitar by the sofa and slid, tentatively, onto the barstool, like he was still afraid she might kick him out. Marinette laughed weakly and put the plate of bacon between their two plates. She couldn’t very well tell him she was cooking for herself plus a horde of tiny gods, but the look on his face probably would have been priceless.

She handed Luka the silverware and got out butter, syrup, and two glasses of milk before finally coming around the bar to sit down next to him. 

“I’m really sorry I got so upset,” Marinette began, feeling she owed him an explanation. “It just...feels like I’m always leaving people. I get so busy and I overcommit and then people are upset, and I guess...I guess somewhere along the line it was easier to just...stop trying. I can’t expect other people to do all the work, you know? It’s better just to let them go. Maybe someday when—” when I don’t have to be Ladybug anymore “—when things are different, then I can have those kinds of friendships again. It just feels kind of impossible right now.” 

“It’s not impossible,” Luka said gently, reaching over to lay a hand on her wrist. “Not at all.” 

The look Marinette gave him must have been skeptical, because he smiled and withdrew his hand. “So my mom basically kicked me out of the house when Juleka turned eighteen and started modeling seriously,” he said, moving some bacon slices onto his plate as Marinette blinked at his abrupt change of topic. “It was pretty obvious that between university classes and her career, Jules wasn’t going to be back permanently any time soon, and Mom was just...ready to do her own thing again. I mean, she’s always done her own thing to an extent, but there were sacrifices she made to provide a minimal level of stability for me and Jules, and now she doesn’t need to anymore. So she told me I needed to find a place of my own, and almost before I knew it, I was couch surfing with friends and Juleka, and all our stuff was in storage. She traded the Liberty in on something a little more seaworthy. Now she’s living her best pirate life on the Liberty II and…” He gestured vaguely towards his apartment. 

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Marinette frowned, leaning her chin on one hand as she pushed her food around on her plate with the other.

Luka didn’t answer right away, tucking into his dinner before he answered. “It bothered me a little bit, that she didn’t give me much warning, but her leaving didn’t bother me.” He smiled gently at Marinette. “No matter where she goes, she’s still my mom, and she still loves me, and I still love her. Just because she’s not here right now, and we don’t talk every day, or even every week, doesn’t change that we love each other. Same with Jules. She’s got her own life now, and sometimes we go weeks without seeing each other. When we do, though, it’s no big deal. She’s still my sister. It’s like we were never apart.” 

Marinette couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and looked down, only to look up again when Luka put his hand on her back. 

“I know it sounds different, because we’re family,” Luka said, “but it’s not. There’s friendships that are like that, where you do your own thing until your lives intersect again, and then it’s like you were never apart. And then your roads part and you wave goodbye until the next time. Forget all this recordkeeping bullshit about who texted who last and how long it’s been and whether you remembered to send them a facebook message on their birthday, or how many invitations for drinks they’ve passed up and bailed on. There’s all kinds of friendship out there, Marinette. You’re not doomed to be alone and isolated forever, just because you’re talented and driven and career-oriented, and you know where you want to be in life.” 

Almost. Almost, he understood, except he couldn’t, because she couldn’t tell him the real truth. She couldn’t tell him how it wore on her to lie to everyone in her life, or the way those lies created distance simply by virtue of existing—distance the other person could always sense but couldn’t understand. Just like now, in this conversation. She was holding back, and he knew it, and he didn’t get why. Right now, he thought it was a trust issue, that if they ever grew close enough, she would eventually open up and tell him what was really the matter, and that distance would be gone.

Except that would never happen, and he would get tired of waiting, and hurt that she still didn’t trust him, and he would eventually recede even further, and fade into yet another background character in her life, a polite acquaintance with a silent grudge she could never assuage.

It was nice that he was trying, though. She gave him a weak smile, and nodded, though she could feel her lower lip trembling.

Luka’s smile was sad, and he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek before he went back to his food. Eventually, Marinette’s hunger got the better of her melancholy mood, and she was able to enjoy the fluffy pancakes and the bacon she had been able to make just the way she liked it. Luka made a contented noise. “This is the thing I miss the most from the States,” he said, waving his fork at his plate. “I don’t know how they can eat this much heavy stuff for breakfast but for dinner?” He made a little moan and Marinette giggled. That gave her an opening to ask about his travels, and they made quiet, comfortable small talk until they were finished eating. 

Luka gently insisted on helping her clean up, humming quietly as he stood beside her, drying the dishes that she handed him.

“All right,” she said, taking the dishtowel from him. “I’ve done my part. Time for you to pay up, sir.” 

Luka chuckled. “Sure. Do you want to go change or anything?” He indicated the suit she was still wearing. “Not that you don’t look good, but—” 

Marinette snorted and laughed, looking down at herself. “No, you’re right, I could definitely be more comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

She ended up just changing into her pajamas, a set that had a shirt that buttoned over the camisole so she didn’t feel too exposed, and by the time she came back out of her room, Luka was settled on the couch, fingers moving in slow, thoughtful motions over his guitar, just random chords as far as she could tell. His eyes were half closed, but as soon as she sat down on the other end of the couch and pulled her feet up under herself, he shifted into a gentle tune. Marinette folded her arms on the couch arm and rested her head on them, watching Luka play since he didn’t seem to be looking at her. 

“Anything you want to hear?” he asked softly.

“Whatever you feel like playing,” she replied, and he nodded. 

The music seemed to just wander for a moment, and then picked up into something she recognized. Luka didn’t sing, which she kind of regretted, having heard him earlier in the day. She’d like to hear him sing on his own, someday. 

Snatches of the words played in her mind as she closed her eyes and listened.

…Just keep breathin and breathin’and breathin and breathin

… You remind me of a time when things weren’t so complicated…All I need is to see your face…

…Just keep breathin and breathin and breathin and breathin

“Marinette?” 

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes and blinked at Luka. He smiled at her. 

“Maybe I should go. You look so tired.” 

I am so tired.

“One more?” she asked, and he chuckled. 

“Sure,” he said, still smiling, and turned back to his guitar.

Again the melody wandered for a moment, and then he settled into something soft that she didn’t recognize. 

She opened her eyes for a moment when he began to sing, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“Fare thee well, my own true love,” he sang, “Farewell for a while…I’m going away…but I’ll be by…though I go ten thousand miles…” 

She let her eyes fall closed again…and when they opened, it was to the beep of her alarm, and the snores of the kwamis burrowed in the bed all around her. Marinette fumbled for the button on her alarm, and managed to turn it off. She lay blinking for a moment, trying to think. She vaguely remembered Luka’s soft voice, and his arm around her, supporting her as she zombie-walked to bed. 

Marinette supposed she ought to be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. Anything, or nothing, Luka had promised her long ago, and despite the way things had fallen apart between them, he’d offered her nothing but friendship and affection since they both moved in. No judgment, no hurt, no resentment. It couldn’t last, but it was nice while she had it. She closed her eyes and tried not to remember that eventually she would have to push him away.

“Marinette?” a squeaky voice asked, and she opened her eyes again to find Daizzi floating in front of her nose. “Is there any bacon left?” he wanted to know. 

Songs:

Breathin by Ariana Grande, specifically this cover by Eddie van der Meer

10,000 Miles by Mary Chapin-Carpenter

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #guard my heart #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #pro lukamari