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darknights04 · 1 year

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Sensing You

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Summary: You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

Warnings: Spoils for Hogwarts Legacy (obviously), pain, cruciatus curse, unedited, not proof read. Reader is not mc

Masterlist

When it came to you, Ominis was no stranger to the idea of the long game. You, Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne had been friends for as long as you could all remember. Ominis has had a crush on you for almost just as long. It was worst this year. With Anne staying home all your attention was turned to the two boys. Usually you would turn to Anne some days and have girl time between the two of you. Now, Ominis had nothing but time to grow more and more infatuated with you.

Ever since the new fifth year beat him in a duel, Sebastian had been mostly with them, giving you and Ominis even more time alone together. It was driving him crazy. Every time you laughed in the way that he loved, rested your chin on his shoulder to look at what we was doing, leaned your arm against his to whisper something during class. He had to hold himself back so he didn’t just grab you and slam his lips onto yours. One of the only parts of you he has yet to be able to identify. As children you would play games, Ominis feeling all of his friends’ faces and guess who was who, so he knew the general idea of what your face looked like. But your lips was a mystery to him. A mystery he badly wanted solved.

Today, you were sitting with Ominis in a corridor near the slytherin common room. You had spent most of the day trying to cheer him up after Sebastian repeatedly would bother him about Salazar Slytherin’s Sciptorium. You knew that he wanted nothing to do with dark magic after the hold it has had no his family for generations. Sure, Ominis had been exaggerating his hurt feelings just a bit, but if all it took was a little pouting to get you this close to him, then you best believe he was about to win an oscar for this performance.

“He just doesn’t understand how dangerous it is!” he complained with a dramitic sigh, smiling internally due to the hand you had running soothing circles across his back.

“He’s just trying to do anything he can to help Anne,” you replied, wanting to defend him.

“I know. I don’t like seeing Anne suffer either, same as you. But I know where this path leads, and it’s never a good place.”

Ominis’s internal smile fell as he heard you greet the new student Sebastian had befriended.

“What are you doing here?” He asked them with a small scoff.

That scoff, of course, resulting in a small smack on the shoulder from you, muttering a small “Manners,” in his ear. Ominis rolled his eyes, but the smile he had inside, reserve just for you, came back once more.

“Do you have a moment?” the new student spoke up.

Ominis didn’t want to, but he heard them out. After lying about Sebastian showing them the undercroft, Ominis has been wary about this student. Even so, he was feeling at ease due to your presence, and in turn agreed to show them where Salazar’s Scriptorum was located.

“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said with a sigh as he revealed how to access the door.

“We’ve just been sitting outside of it?” you asked with a chuckle, noticing you didn’t have to even move to be at the door.

Ominis shrugged, his internal smile showing through just a bit on the outside. “It was the first place I thought of.”

“First place you thought of to go and complain about the scriptorium?”

“Precisely.”

Before any of you knew it, Sebastian and his new friend had opened the door, ushering each other inside.

“I just hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis continued to sigh.

“We’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure.

“We?” Ominis had repeated. “You’re not coming.”

“What? Ominis you can’t possibly expect me to stay behind.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” was all you said, standing your ground.

“Y/n…” he had tried to coax. You didn’t say anything, hands finding their way to your hips. Ominis sighed. He knew you were stubborn, so he also knew there was no talking you out of this. “Fine.”

Your stubborn glare quickly faded into a cheek to cheek grin as you almost skipped next to Ominis, linking your arms together before making your way into the door, following behind Sebastian and the fifth-year who had already found their way inside.

Not that you would ever admit it, but hearing Ominis speak Parsetounge did something to you. Yes, the language often ties a witch or wizard to dark magic, and for Ominis it serves only as a reminder to his family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how attractive it was when he spoke it.

“It worked!” the fifth year spoke as the door opened. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, retreating back towards you and linking your arms once more.

“Truly,” you agreed. “It’s fascinating.”

If you weren’t near positive that Ominis would never think about you in a romantic way whatsoever, you would have sword you saw a small tinge of red grace his cheeks at your comment. But it was probably just the lighting.

Once the door was open, the other two were fast to start figuring out the puzzles and the maze in order to get through the scriptorium. You and Ominis had stayed behind. Ominis wanted nothing to do with this, his job was just to open the door. You were curious about the area, yes, but Ominis was more important. You wanted to make sure he was okay. Usually throughout the days he would have plenty of distraction from his family and their legacy. But now? In the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium? All that surrounded him were reminders.

As the doors opened one by one, you all moved further and further until you reached a black door.

“Looks troubling,” was all Sebastian had said.

Ominis scoffed. “This whole place is troubling.”

As the other two went into the strange room, you didn’t budge. As Ominis was stopped from the firm grasp you still had on him, he turned towards you confused.

“I don’t like the looks of this room,” you whispered. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

“So do I,” he responded,his hand finding the top of yours to comfort you. “But for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be okay.”

As soon as you stepped into the new room, the door closed behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian called out, “We’re locked in… again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis sneered. At this point, you began to panic. There was no clear way out. You began to lose even more hope when you looked in the corner and noticed-

“A skeleton,” the new student pointed out. “And Noctora’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here. Trapped by… and unforgivable curse.”

Your eyes widened. The incantation “crucio” etched into the floor suddenly making sense.

“No,” you said in a slight panic. “No there has to be some other way out of here. Another puzzle? Another brazier to light?”

“What?” Ominis asked, confused. “What are you talking about? What is it?”

“They know what we need to do,” Sebastian said plainly. “One of us needs to cast crucio.”

Sebastian turned to his friend by the door, discussing the curse with them while Ominis began to pace.

“Ominis,” you called to him. “Ominis relax, we will figure something out.”

“No,” he said simply. “No this all could have been avoided. I could have refused, we could have just gone to dinner. I could have protested more to you joining.”

“Ominis none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! Don’t you see? I put you in danger.”

“I chose to be here.”

“But you had doubts, and I assured you that it would be alright.”

“And we are alright. We’ll find a way around this.”

Before anything else could be said, they heard the new fifth year shout out “Crucio!” in Sebastian’s direction. The two of you looked towards the pair with wide eyes, about to call out towards Sebastion until… nothing happened.

“Did you do the movement wrong?” Sebastian asked.

“No,” they responded, shaking their head. “No, I think that I just couldn’t mean it. I care for you, Sebastian.”

“You have to try,” he urged.

“I can’t.”

“Cast it on me,” you spoke up suddenly, taking a step towards the pair.

“No!” Ominis had interjected quickly.

“They can’t cast it on Sebastian,” you began to explain.

“You can’t-”

“We don’t have the same connection so they could-”

“Not you!”

“Ominis,” you sighed, quieting your voice as you pulled him aside. “I will be fine.”

“I’ve felt the cruciatus curse before so I-”

“Shouldn’t have to go through it again. Let me do this, please.”

Ominis didn’t say anything more. You took his silence as a sign of agreement, so you approached the door.

“You ready?” Sebastian had asked you.

You nodded. “Ready.”

Ominis braced for the moment that the spell left their wand. He knew what to expect, but he’d never heard the sound of excruciating pain from you. That was something he was not curious to find out.

Ominis listened as the screams left your throat, as you fell to your knees on the ground. He expected this. He expected the screams to last for several seconds. But this was too long. If they had just cast the curse and left it at that, the pain would have subsided by now. This was prolonged for too long.

“Stop!” he yelled over the screams. “That’s enough!”

He waited for what felt like eternity for the screams to stop. For any sign that you were no longer in pain. But when your screams had cut off abruptly, it did not give him the relief he was waiting for.

“Y/n?” he asked into the silence. “Y/n are you okay?” Never had there ever been a moment in his life that Ominis had wished more that he could see what was happening around him. When you didn’t respond, he began to walk towards the door, calling Sebastian’s name instead. “What’s happened? Are they okay?”

When Sebastian didn’t respond either, Ominous really began to panic. “Answer me, Sebastian!”

“They fainted,” the student told him flatly.

“What?” he hissed, rushing to where he last heard your voice, hands failing about to try and find any sign of you. When his hand landed on your shoulder, he let out a small breath of relief, almost as if he expected you to have disappeared entirely. “I’m taking them to the hospital wing,” he then announced, following down your arm to find the bend of your knees, intending to pick you up.

“No!” Sebastian protested. “You can’t.”

“And why not?”

“They’ll know we were using unforgivables,” the fifth-year stated.

“What if we need you to open another door?” Sebastian commented at the same time.

“Glad to see you both care so deeply about their safety,” Ominis scoffed.

“You can’t carry them and use your wand to lead you both,” Sebastian continued, looking for another excuse to keep the boy there. “Let’s find the end of this tunnel and then we’ll take them there together, deal?”

Ominis sighed, head faced towards the floor. He didn’t want to delay getting you the help you needed, but Sebastian was right. He could crash you both into a wall and injure you further. As much as he hated to admit it, your health was in their hands now.

“Just hurry up, will you?” he muttered quietly.

---

When you finally awoke from your unconscious state, Ominis was asleep next to you. Looking around you noticed you were no longer in the dungeons, but instead in the hospital wing under watchful eyes. Well, not that Ominis could very well be included in that.

As you turned to look at the boy next to you, you moved as quietly as possible. Lacking his sight, Ominis seemed to have much higher hearing abilities than anyone else you knew, so you knew that any sudden noise would be enough to wake him. Your theory was proved correct as he stirred awake at the small ruffle of the sheet.

You watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out as if he changed his mind on speaking up. Instead, you saw his hand slowly reach out towards you, as if to confirm you were there.

“I’m awake,” you told him with a smile.

Ominis let out a small breath of relief. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded. “I didn’t expect it to last that long.”

“It shouldn’t have,” he said, almost with a sneer. “That new student had to curse on you for longer than it needed to be. All we needed was for it to hit you, they made it linger. They’re lucky I don’t go straight to professor Black and have them expelled.”

Ominis’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he felt you lay your hand on top of his.

“I’m alright,” you assured him again. “Lay with me.”

“I- What?”

“Please? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

Ominis sat still in thought for a moment, stammering slightly to himself before standing from his chair, feeling around the bed to make sure you were out of the way before laying down beside you. You layed your head onto his chest and exhaled deeply with a contented sigh. Ominis smiled gently to himself, his nose falling into your hair as he inhaled your scent. He decided then and there that it didn’t matter that he could never see you. Every other sense he had t otake you in was just fine for him. Your voice was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your laugh even more so. Your smell felt like home to him. He could tell you were in a room just by the smell of your shampoo. He could pinpoint which brand it was in a shop just with a small whiff alone. The touch of you skin never failed to comfort him in times of distress. The soft, delicate touch of your hand on his would always bring a smile to his lips. Your taste.. He was yet to be abpe to experiance. The only one of his available senses that has yet to experience you. The rest thought you were perfect, he could only imagine that would be the same.

That is, assuming he ever decides to do anything about his feelings for you.

For now, however, this was enough for him.

Part Two

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #gaunt #slytherin #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #harry potter #crucio #second person pov #x reader #fanfiction #dark magic #mc #angst

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shadesslut · 9 months

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loving her was red

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Content Includes: Smut, p in v!, Dark!Ethan

Summary: There was nothing he wouldn't do to be her first priority, even if it meant killing his friends

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

✮

Lewd noises filled the small room of her apartment. There was a musk smell filled with sweat and other liquids. He never in his life thought he would ever be in this position, putting her in this position. The sweet and desperate sounds that flowed out of her mouth like honey only stroked his obsession more. They were on her bed, ruining her periwinkle bedsheets, grabbing at each other’s skin trying to explore every crevice they could fit in.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpered softly as he thrusted in and out of her. She looked up at him with a seductive expression and took his hands in hers. He knew he wasn’t the best at this, he knew he had to learn. He would learn about how her body works and what it reacts to if it was the last thing he ever did.

She arched her back slightly as he quickened his movements. “You’re doing so good.” she cooed at him, brushing strands of his curly hair out of his face. His body had never felt this way before; he was on fire, and it was because of her.

He leaned lower over her body and stuck his face into the crook of her neck. His thrusts became sloppier, lazier. “It feels so good,” he moaned. “You feel so good.”

He gasped as he reached his high and held onto her tightly. He was too fucked out to look at her, which is also why he whispered an ‘I love you’ to her. He realized his mistake, but he felt too much pleasure to care at that moment.

As he laid next to her, hugging her side, she looked over at her phone which laid on the nightstand. She quickly kissed him on his sweaty forehead before checking her phone. He sleepily glanced at her and licked his lips. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Her thumbs tapped on her phone hastily before answering. “Texting Tara,” she replied as she set her phone back down. She rolled around over to him and softly smiled. “So, how does it feel not being a virgin?”

He smiled and looked down at his hands that unconsciously found their way to her hips. He shrugged his shoulders and looked up at her. God, she’s so pretty. He thought. He should have said it, looking back at it, he regrets not saying it.

“I always feel good when I’m with you.” It was true; every time Chad invited him along with the rest of the group, he always looked forward to it. Because every time the group hung out, she was always there. She always treated him with kindness more than the others did. When he first hung out with the group, she was the only one to have an intimate conversation with him unlike Chad or the others. He didn’t dislike Chad, he has fond memories of them hanging out, but let’s just say that if Chad wasn’t his roommate, the two wouldn’t be friends.

She smiled sweetly and laid her head on his chest. She started rubbing circles on his torso with her index finger, and it drove him crazy. “Ethan,” she said. “You wanna talk about what you said there?”

The answer was no, he did not want to talk about how he confessed his love for her in the middle of their hookup. “Uhm, what did I say?” he lied, knowing she knew he meant it.

A giggle escaped her lips as he looked up at him. “You said you loved me.” she reiterated. She didn’t look mad or even confused, she just looked…concerned.

“I-uhm…” he spoke, regretting ever saying it to her. He never planned to tell her how he felt about her this soon. There were too many negative factors that played in. He was worried that she’d be freaked out if her friend’s roommate, whom she barely knew, confessed his love to her in the middle of what was supposed to be, a one-night stand. He was scared she would cut him out of her life if she found out how badly he was obsessed with her. “It was just a spur of the moment, I didn’t mean it.” he lied smiling. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

She sat up and shook her head while stretching her arms above her head, causing Ethan to stare at her chest. “It didn’t, I just would have had to tease you about it if you meant it.” She stood up from the bed and walked sluggishly towards the bathroom. “Do you wanna shower with me?” she yelled out as she turned the shower on. He immediately stood up and slightly jogged towards the bathroom

—

Ethan sat next to Chad at the end of a red, torn-up diner booth. It was an old family-owned diner that they always ate at on Thursday nights. Chad’s twin sister, Mindy, and her girlfriend Anika were placed across from them, sharing a chocolate milkshake. The only one that wasn’t there was her; she usually arrives late due to her night class. She insists they don’t wait for her to order, to which they oblige, but not Ethan. Ethan refuses to order his food before you get there, so that’s why his stomach is roaring. Chad notices and looks at Ethan, letting Mindy and Anika continue their conversation.

“Dude, just go order your food. Y/N doesn’t mind.” Chad reassured with a mouth full of his cheeseburger, which wasn’t helping Ethan’s growing hunger.

Ethan gave him an uncomfortable look, “Nah, I don’t want her to be the only one eating when she gets here.”

Chad shrugged and took another bite. He leaned over to sip from his soda before swallowing and replying, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll probably order another side later.” Which made Ethan chuckle at his roommate. “Do you know if she’s on her way?”

“Why would I know? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Ethan asked, confusion lacing his tone. Chad glanced away momentarily, hoping Ethan wouldn’t notice but he did. He nervously coughed and muttered ‘I don’t know’.

That was weird, Ethan thought, but before he could say anything, she walked in and plopped herself down next to Mindy.

“Hey, sorry I was late. My professor is such a douchebag.” she huffed before stealing Mindy and Anika’s milkshake and taking a sip. Her hair was in a low messy bun, and her maroon cardigan slid off her shoulders. She looked so tired, so worn out, she didn’t deserve to be so drained like this. She deserved to be held and taken care of. Ethan wanted to be the one to hold her and take care of her.

Mindy stole her shake back with a playful glare. “What’d the asshole do this time?” she asked. Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed deeply and gave her ‘I’ll tell you later’ eyes. Mindy nodded and turned her attention to the rest of the group. “So,” she started, smiling as she corrected her posture and put her hands on the table. “What is everyone wearing to the party tomorrow?”

Ethan noticed how Y/N perked up at her question. “I’m gonna be Tiffany Valentine!” she said excitedly. “I’m wearing a short white dress with a leather jacket,” she said putting her head in the palms of her hands. Ethan loved how giddy she was, even if it was about a silly Halloween costume. He loved how her eyes lit up, how passionate she got. He wanted to scoop her up and give her everything in the world she wanted; he would give her the world. As the others said what their costumes would be, Ethan could not stop daydreaming about her. He thought about the other night, and how their bodies hugged each other. He wanted to stay in that moment forever with her. He smiled as he looked down at the table and glanced up at her, who was staring right at him. Ethan blushed slightly and quickly looked away. He inhaled deeply and looked up again, only to be met with the others staring at him.

“W-What?” He stammered nervously as he looked between Chad and the three girls. Y/N giggled slightly and covered her mouth.

Chad nudged him on the arm and answered, “We asked what your costume was.”

Ethan’s face flushed with embarrassment as his friends laughed. “O-Oh, I’m dressing up as this guy from a movie; Murder Party. He wears a cardboard costume so,” Chad nodded as Mindy made a slightly insulting comment. The rest of them moved on to a different topic, making Ethan’s shoulders relax. He looked over to Y/N, seeing her softly smile at the group. He wanted to take a picture of your smile, so he could always look at it. He loved your smile, he loved her. He wanted to tell her that, scream it at her, but he was scared; scared he would creep her out.

—

On the way back to campus, the five of them conversed as they laughed with each other. Mindy and Chad were arguing about something while Anika held back a laugh at the two. Ethan and Y/N walked slowly behind the group.

“So,” she said looking at him slowly reaching her hand towards his. She glanced at the group as they laughed louder before intertwining her hand in his. “You wanna come over to my place tonight? I got this new thing I wanna try with you.” she smiled at him as his ears reddened. He looked at the group, still unaware that their two friends were planning on fucking later, and looked back at her.

He gently rubbed his thumb over her skin and pulled her back causing them to both stop. He caressed her cheek with his hand and leaned toward her. She widened her eyes at him and looked at the group before pulling away. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just-” he stammered nervously. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

She took her hand out of his and cut him off. “Just stop,” she said glaring at him. “Stop with all this romantic bullshit, okay? We have rules.” she spat at him as she rushed off to the others, linking arms with Chad. Ethan’s hands clenched into fists as he saw Chad hesitantly wrap his arm around her waist. He slowly started walking as he caught up with the others. He wanted to kill Chad. He wanted to hurt him for touching her. He had always envied Chad for his relationship with her; being her best friend, knowing more about her than him, killed Ethan. He wanted that with her. He was the one who deserved it the most, not Chad. He was going to kill Chad.

#ethan landry x reader #chad meeks x reader #ethan landry #jack champion #scream #scream 6 #scream vi

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kuroosdarling · 1 year

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‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ FEATURING ꒱ : virgin!kenma (&kuroo)

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI !! threesome (?), cuckholding, kenma bein a lil fucked out, kuroo on a power trip hehe yknow the vibes

check out the others here !

everything was so wet, so warm — so tight. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt something as good as this, no. he knows he’s never felt something as good as this.

hot pleasure swarms around in his head and the only thing he can feel is your cunt squeezing around his cock as if it was desperately begging for his cum already. but he tried his hardest to restrain from filling you up too soon.

“that’s it, you feel that kenma? feel how good her little pussy is?” kuroo coos from behind you. kenma’s eye flutter open just so he can glare at the older man who also happens to be your boyfriend.

but he just ends up ignoring him. so instead, he looks up at you, perched up on his cock like a goddess. your fingernails dig into his chest and he lets out a soft groan. between you and kuroo, he didn’t know who was more dastardly. all he knew was he was thankful for kuroo suggesting he lost his virginity to you.

all kenma could do was hold onto your hips as you slowly start to rock against him. his grip was so tight, he almost felt bad. but judging by the way you started to move faster, he figured you didn’t really mind it.

“that’s it, nice and slow.” kuroo purred, circling around the two of you like a hawk about to strike. his eyes were glued to where you and kenma were currently connected, absolutely mesmerized by the way your drooling cunt was swallowing up kenma’s cock. “doesn’t she feel heavenly, kenma?”

kenma’s attention briefly cut over to kuroo, watching him as his hazel eyes were set on you, filled with so much adoration it only pushed kenma closer to the edge that he didn’t want to reach yet.

but that had nothing on the way you looked right now. an absolute vision as you started to play with your breasts, teasing your nipples between your fingers as you mewled out his name. he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a prettier sound than his name tumbling from your lips.

“ken-“ you gasp out when he finds your clit. or rather, when kuroo takes his hand and guides him to your neglected nub. kuroo whispers in his ear, telling him to start moving his fingers around in a small circle over the bundle of nerves. reluctantly, kenma listened and was instantly rewarded with your pretty moans getting louder.

“keep rubbing her there and she’ll be putty in your hands.” kuroo teases, reaching out to stroke your arm, watching how your tits bounce with each roll of your hips. “she’s even more insatiable after she cums, so if you need me to take over, i can manage.”

“like hell you will.” kenma hisses out, possessively clawing his fingers into your hips. the thought of kuroo fucking you right after kenma fills you with his cum sent him into a frenzy. there was a part of him that didn’t even want kuroo to look at you right now, wanting this memorable moment entirely to himself. but he’d be lying if he said the whole situation wasn’t hot — that fucking his best friends girlfriend in front of him wasn’t exactly what he had been dreaming of for weeks, if not months.

but kenma can’t string together another thought, completely lost in the way your velvety walls tighten around him, almost sweetly coaxing him for his release. and he wanted to give in — so, so badly. but kuroo hadn’t let him cum yet even though he could feel the overwhelming sensation shooting down his spine, ready to fill you up with everything he had in him.

“come on, kenma, talk to me.” kuroo mockingly whines out the words as he takes his place behind you. he watches how you’re seated up on kenmas cock, slowly rocking your hips — much too slow for his liking but he doesn’t do anything to fix it. yet. kuroo kisses underneath your ear, looking down at kenma who can’t help but make eye contact again.

“shut up kuro.” he spits out, bringing his lithe fingers to your sensitive nipples— just like how you showed him earlier. you moan at the contact, tossing your head back onto kuroo’s shoulder. kuroo laughs; a vicious sound. its harsh tone tickles your ear and crawls down your spine as your hips stutter.

“i think she likes hearing your voice.” kuroo purrs, kissing down your neck before gripping your hips, just below where kenma’s hands previously were. he starts moving you a bit faster, causing you and the man under you to moan in sync. “aw, you guys are just so cute.”

“tetsu-“ you gasp out, splaying your hands back onto kenma’s chest as kuroo sets the pace for you guys. you couldn’t help but to fall right into your boyfriend's hands, but kenma had other plans.

taken over by a deep need to fuck you harder or maybe just driven by the irritation that he got merely from kuroo being kuroo; kenma starts ruthlessly thrusting upward into you, tossing his head back to loudly moan your name out into the room.

all you could do was keep your head locked onto kuroo’s shoulder, letting kenma set the pace and soaking in all the sweet sounds he let out. kuroo tried to combat it, whispering sweet praises in your ear and wrapping his arms around your waist as his best friend continued to drive into your cunt.

deep down, kenma knew that kuroo had to give the okay for both of you to cum, but it was quickly hurtling towards the end. by the pitch of your cries, kuroo knew it too. and he was eager to have his turn with you.

“you're making him feel so good baby, i can tell.” he nudged his head against yours, making sure he had a clear view of kenma, smirking down at the younger man. “go ahead and fill her up kenma, i know you’ve been desperate to.”

but once kuroo gave the okay, something else overcame kenma when he realized he wouldn’t be satisfied until you came first, trying to milk his cock for everything he��s worth.

maybe he wanted to see how insatiable you really got, or maybe he just wanted to piss kuroo off while he had another round with you. either way, he was just getting started and he didn’t care how much he wanted to cum; he knew he needed to have you begging him for more first.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#ᥫ᭡ : cherry chaser chronicles #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

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The neigbhor’s daughter 2.Pool party

A/N: Got so much love on part 1 that I wanted to write more. This is totally @itgetsdark-x ‘s idea.

Summary: You sneak into Joel’s backyard to use his pool. (pre-outbreak Joel x reader)

CW: Use of pet names, fluff, smut, fingering (f receiving), handjob, semi-public sex (pool), overstimulation, unprotected sex, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 36).

PART 3

Since you two spent your first night together, Joel felt like a teenager again. He had lost at least 10 years. He smiled more; he had more energy.

You would steal short moments together behind your dad’s back. You liked the thrill of it. He would pay more attention to you when he was working in your dad’s backyard, catching up on the lives you lived before meeting.

It was a warm Tuesday; the sun was hitting hard. Joel insisted that your dad rested so he wouldn’t catch a heat stroke and he was working alone on the deck, shirt off, curls damped with sweat. You had brought him hand squeezed lemonade and you were chilling in the backyard. You had invited a high school friend over, whom you rarely saw. You two were sipping on your lemonades, admiring the view of Joel’s body behind your tinted sunglasses.

“So you’re gonna tell me what’s the deal with him?” Samuel asked as he saw how you were staring hungrily at the man’s figure… Joel probably couldn’t hear behind the constant thumping of his tools hitting the wood.

“New neighbor. Really good in bed. Dick twice the size of Chad’s.”

“Damn.” He looked at you, shocked. “You’re fucking the neighbor?” He whispered. “To be fair, he’s quite hot. And Chad’s dick was small.”

“Sure as hell am. And he’s very straight sorry.”

“How old is he anyway?”

“36.”

“Not too bad. I had sugar daddies way older.” Sam laughed and took another sip of his cold lemonade. “Does your dad know?”

“Of course not. I don’t think he would take it… badly. He just doesn’t need to know everything.”

“Fair. You’re playing a dangerous game, though.”

You shrugged it off. Joel looked up at you two and smiled brightly, before he swiped his palm against his sweaty forehead.

“And he has a kid?”

“Yeah. A kid who’s conveniently sleeping at a friend’s house tonight. And I’ll be conveniently “going to your place” and I’ll come back “very late.” You said as you mimicked quotes in the air.

“Got’cha. If daddy calls, you’re drunk and passed out in my bed.”

You did go to Sam’s place for a few hours, but you came back discreetly after diner. You sneaked in Joel’s backyard, where could still hear him working on the deck. Your dad was nowhere to be seen.

You did a small gesture towards him over the wooden fence. He understood the message and put away his tools. Joel disappeared for a bit, probably saying bye to your dad. While you waited, you took off all of your clothes and jumped in the lukewarm pool.

At that time, it was dark enough and the fences were high enough to hide your nakedness.

He crossed the fence and sat on one of the patio chairs, not looking at you, just relaxing with his eyes closed.

“Your dad’s going to bingo right now.”

You went closer to the edge of the swimming pool, like a mermaid preying on a lost pirate.

“Thank god for old people activities.”

“Bingo’s fun, you should try it, hun.”

He was still not paying attention to you, so you sent a wave of water his way, damping his dirty jeans. Joel groaned angrily, until he finally laid his deep eyes on you.

“Goddamn.” He swore under his breath. “You’re crazy.”

You winked at him and swam away.

“Stop, I spent most of the day staring at your sweaty and sexy ass, now it’s my turn to tease.”

He got up on his feet and rapidly discarded all his clothes, while your gaze was analyzing each of his movements. You admired his tanned skin and the way dark hair was trailing down his soft tummy.

“Pretty fast for an old man.” You teased.

Joel climbed down the stairs to the pool and swam to you, in the deepest part of his pool. His arms circled your waist, and he pulled you close, holding you above the water. He pushed your body to the nearest border, where you could hold yourself.

“I’ll show I ain’t no old man.” He responded in a suggestive way.

His hands trapped your body against the border of the pool while his lips found yours. He had been waiting all day for this, only to feel the simplest of your caresses. Joel dominated the exchange completely, his tongue exploring the deepness of your mouth, his teeth hitting messily yours.

“How long can ya stay, hun?” He asked in the crook of your neck, where he left hot kisses. You felt his mustache scratching your skin slightly.

“I can say I’m too drunk and I’m sleeping at Sam’s…”

“I’d like that.”

His large and veiny hand traveled down to your breasts, your soft stomach, before stopping between your thighs. Your breath was stuck in your throat, before your lips let out a soft whine. Joel was a selfless man; he was more of a pleaser. He rarely let you please him, part of him was insecure and didn’t want to show his vulnerability.

Or… maybe he was afraid of getting even more addicted. He knew your time together was limited.

You pushed him to get to the shallowest part of the pool, where you could stand freely and comfortably on your feet.

“Wanna touch you, Joel, please. Can’t do that if I’m trying not to drown.”

He nodded, a small laugh escaping his lips. Your small hand disappeared under the blue water, wrapping itself around Joel’s member, that was already hard against his stomach. While you pleased him with lazy pumps, he took care of you, fingers circling your clit slowly, while one of them was splitting you open for him. You rested your head on his shoulder, so only him could hear the small sounds you were making. His large hand tugged on the back of your neck so you would look at him.

“Want the whole neighborhood to hear you, sweetheart.”

His hoarse voice sufficed to triple your excitation, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Joel’s rhythm was getting rougher and sloppier as you were trying to do the same for him. You were done hiding your reactions and you moaned his name freely. His breathing was heavy, and he was struggling to keep up while you touched him. He pushed your hand and you let go, so he could concentrate on the intensity of his caresses on your heat. You held onto his shoulders and your back arched as you were freed from the knot in your lower stomach, your mouth letting out a final cry. He helped you through your orgasm, and let you go when you had enough.

“C’me here, I have an amazing idea.” He said with a satisfied smile.

You followed him to a particular side of the pool.

“D’you think you can hold on to this side? Yeah, just like that. Lift your legs up for me, spread them towards the spray here.”

You did as Joel instructed, while he helped with holding up your body. You struggled to find the right angle. But when you did, you moaned as you felt the pressure of the water jet that was assuring the movement of the water in the pool hitting your clit. Joel was behind you, on his feet, hands grabbing firmly on your skin to hold you up. Seconds later, he was thrusting fully into you. Your body was getting used to his intrusion, and you took all of him well. He whispered soft praises to your ear, that you were covering with your moans.

One of your hands went around the back of his neck to support your body. You were feeling very overwhelmed with every sensation.

“Can you cum around my cock, sweetheart?”

You nodded and concentrated on the overwhelming sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud constantly, and the feeling of him filling you up with each thrust. Your body tensed, and he encouraged you through your orgasm, your walls tightening around him. Even though Joel was struggling to keep up, he kept going at his own rhythm, concentrating on chasing his own high.

The water was still splashing on you, so you had no time to get down from your high. You just had orgasm after orgasm, as your nails were leaving marks on Joel’s neck. You were probably loud enough for everyone around to hear you.

When he felt you getting tired and limp, he held you strongly, and fucked up into you harshly as he bit into the skin of your neck. You felt him finishing between your walls, and then he took you away from the side of the pool, spinning you around to look at you.

“You did so good for me, baby.” He praised before kissing you tenderly. You melted into his touch lazily, tired.

Joel left you on his messy bed after helping you get dried up. He went to take a shower, leaving you alone. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, only wearing your panties.

A text from your dad made your phone vibrate.

Everything O.K?

Yes. Gonna spend the night at Sams. Drunk lots.

You felt bad about lying, but it was necessary.

You mean Joel’s ?

Your heart dropped.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, dad.

Saw you going to his house b4 I left. It’s ok.

… Sorry.

It’s okay. He’s a good man. Just be careful, ok?

Joel came in his room, wearing a grey towel around his waist. You barely looked at him as you were typing on your phone. He could see that something was wrong by the look on your face. So, he put on his boxers and laid next to you, looking over your shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

You almost jumped as you heard his voice and left your phone on the bedside table.

“Yeah. Dad knows.”

Your neighbor felt like he was losing you at that exact moment.

“But he’s okay with it!” You quickly added as you saw his expression drop. “He says you’re a good man. Plus, I’m a grown woman.”

He could finally breathe when you reassured him. Joel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. You looked up to him and played softly with his damp curls.

“Am I still a good man after what happened tonight?” He playfully kissed your lips. You rolled your eyes at him and punched him softly.

“You’re the best, actually. Stopped counting my orgasms. Now, let me sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #Joel Miller x yn #dbf ! joel #neighbor ! joel miller #dbf ! joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal smut

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

Text

Cheat

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Everything was going so great until Azriel cheats.

A/N: Heavy Angst. Hope you cry reading this just like I did writing it.😭👍

Masterlist

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Gods you are so drunk.

You raise your glass to take another sip of whatever you were drinking, all you knew is that it had alcohol in it. You had asked the bartender for the strongest drink they had and now you have no idea what time it is or which glass you are on. All you knew was that you couldn't think properly anymore.

Good. You didn't want to.

Because if you did, your thoughts would go back to Azriel again. You would again, think why he did it.

He cheated on you. Traded you with a black haired female who was way more attractive then you were. Raven, her name was. You were friends, or at least you thought you were. You finally thought that you've got yourself a real friend now but turns out all she wanted was your mate.

You honestly don't blame Az. She is so beautiful, with green eyes and legs that went on forever. You both met at a coffee shop when the waiter accidentally exchanged your drinks. Your friendship started right away. You were so excited to finally have a friend of your own that you did see the red flags waving right in front of your face.

Like the first time you introduced her and Azriel to each other, you had sat up a dinner because you wanted your mate and best friend to get along. She spent the whole night talking to Azriel instead of you but you thought that she was excited to meet the famous shadowsinger.

You scoff at your foolishness.

One night. One night was all Raven needed to into Azriels pants. One night when you were gone to a mission Rhys sent you on. Just one night when you weren't with Az, she was.

You were devastated to hear what Az did in your absence. You, so badly, wanted it to be false that you asked Az if he truly consented to it. You thought maybe it wasn't true and az, the spymaster, got somehow molested. But, gods, were you wrong.

You left your house and walked, crying until you there were no tears left to fall. You don't know how you ended up in a bar but that's where you are now, drinking yourself into the hole of betrayal and sadness.

"Gods, darling. I was looking all over for you." You sigh as you feel his body loom over you from behind. His hurtful voice effecting you even after what he did to you. Gods, the comfort he brings you is engraved in your body it seems, doesn't matter what happens, his presence will always be comforting.

"Leave me alone." You can't bring yourself to say his name. You'll cry all over again.

"Darling, let's go back home. I'll leave you alone after I know you're safe." He touches you arm and you feel as though you move through space and time before finally landing in your living room. Deffinately a result of the alcohol running in your system. Your head spins and you stumble, Azriel tries to catch you but you force yourself to stand up straight and push his hands away.

You gasp and glower at him. "Why did you bring me here?!" Anger suddenly filling your body, spilling out of the small part at the back of your head that you shut it in. You dont look around your house, you can't. You've handled enough tonight and if you even spare a glance at the house you both built together, you'll break.

"I want to you to leave me alone for a night. I asked for one night alone Az but you can't even do that?" Your sudden outburst surprises Azriel but before he can explain you speak, "I can protect myself. Ugh. You act as if you care about me, but I know you're just acting." You can't control your words and maybe don't want to. "You wouldn't have cheated on me if you did." You grumble and Azriel has the ability to look hurt.

"What do you think would have happened if I was the one who had cheated?" You glare at him. "You would hate me and have kicked me out of the house. The inner circle would despies me for hurting you and laying with another male. Some of them would literally kill me! Why? Because they love you. Love you in a way that no one loves me." You see red and tears start falling down your face when he opens his mouth, probably to oppose to what you're saying but it's true, you know it is. So you don't give him the chance to speak and continue.

"You have a family to go to when you're hurt or angry but I have no one. You have friends that will stand by you no matter what, I dont. The only one that I thought was, turned out to be a back stabbing bitch. My friends are you friends, My family was yours first. I don't have anyone to call my own! You were my everything, Azriel. Now I don't have anyone."

Your crying so much that its now getting difficult to breath. Your not even sure what you're speaking now but all you know is that your hurting Azriel with every word that leaves your mouth judging by the tears that well in his eyes and slowly fall down his face. His looks down in shame because the severe anguish in your eyes is too much for him to handle.

"I am all alone. I have no where to go, no one to go to. I don't want to face Feyre or Rhys or anyone else because I know that no matter what, they'll always be with you. I don't want to go back home because it's filled with memories of us. All the times you said you loved me, all the times you showed me just how much, all the time you promised me that you will never hurt me and that you will be with me until death parts us. You showed me those wonderful dreams just to crush them because you wanted to get your dick wet! You broke my heart and did the exact thing you swore not to do."

"Why would you do this to us? Why would you do this to me?" Your knees buckle and Azriel steps forward, hugging you to his chest and preventing you to fall. Your words incoherent now.

He sits on his knees with you as you sob into his chest and hold onto him for dear life. You don't have the energy to push him away and his touch feels oh so good, so you just let him hold you, for now.

You both sit in middle of the house you once called home and cry for the relationship that's now beyond broken.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x yn #cheating #crying my eyes out

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Text

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 11

“I think you are ready for training” Azriel spoke.

He was sitting on the small chair by your window with a hot cup of tea in his hands.

“My hands still seize when I try to move them for more than five minutes...” you noted.

“We can focus on your legs tomorrow… you were doing so good don’t let it go to waste.” He shrugged.

“I will think about it...” you murmured.

As you were both sitting in silence your thumbs started twitching and you knew that your hands would start seizing in a few minutes. Your eyes watered and you stared at the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked when he noticed your expression.

“Nothing…” you chewed your bottom lip and he sighed.

“Let me see…” he said softly and got up.

You pulled your hands from the blanket and showed him, they had start seizing by now. A few tears escaped from your eyes and Azriel shook his head.

“It’s okay…” he whispered and grabbed some of the ointment. He grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

“Thank you” you replied and kept your gaze fixed on his scarred fingers. When your hands stopped seizing, he grabbed one and placed a kiss on your knuckles. Your breath hitched and he froze.

“I’m sorry I… I don’t know why I did this” he stuttered and backed off quickly, like your skin burned him.

“I’m so so sorry” he repeated and hurried out of your room before you had a chance to reply.

You gaped at the spot he was previously sitting, your thoughts running wild and your heart racing.

What was that? Why did he do this? I shouldn’t care, no… I don’t care. We are only friends and that’s only because he is helping me through all of this. I can’t be with someone who treated me like this from the moment I stepped foot in this court, the only reason why I don’t hate him is this stupid bond and the healing process with which he helped me so much.

Your thoughts kept crushing on your mind like waves and even though it hurt, you kept thinking trying to sort your feelings and beliefs. You couldn’t understand how your life turned upside down and you didn’t know who to blame. Mor brought you here but only to protect you, she couldn’t know that her friends would treat you like that. Azriel for sure was a part of the reason you got hurt but again it wasn’t his intention and if you kept your mouth shut about the mating bond nothing would’ve happened. You could blame yourself for never realizing how badly your parents were mentally abusing you and then following a stranger so blindly. You could blame yourself for not standing up when Azriel treated you like this and for leaving instead of fighting. If you stayed at the house of wind the Illyrians wouldn’t find you and now your hands would remain unsullied. You could blame your fate, maybe everything was meant to happen, maybe the Mother wanted to make you see how strong you really are and snap you out of your parent’s brainwashing. You thought about your power, you didn’t tell anyone about it in fear of what they would do to you. Your mother suppressed it with wards, what if they did the same? Were you dangerous? You could feel it building up again and you knew you had to tell someone sooner or later. What if you couldn’t hold it back and you ended up hurting someone? They wouldn’t forgive you and if they kicked you out, your life would be over before you could even blink. You knew from the moment you came that you were trapped here but now you wondered if it was indeed a bad thing. Cassian was training you and Rhysand seemed like he really cared about his family, if you could become one of them your life would get better and maybe you could be happy.

You closed your eyes and let sleep take over, you were too tired to keep thinking.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came and someone knocked on your door, you almost frowned when Nesta walked in instead of Azriel.

“Good morning, Azriel said that you might want to come to training today.” She said softly.

“Good morning, I don’t know” you mumbled.

“I just came to tell you that we will be waiting for you, it’s okay if you don’t come though.” She smiled and closed the door when you nodded.

You decided to give training a chance and got up, after you washed yourself ignoring the itching on your hands when water touched them you picked your clothes. You could feel a pang every time something touched them and getting dressed took way longer than before. With a sigh you left your room and walked to the roof. The girls, Cassian and Azriel were there, and they all stopped their exercises when they saw you.

Gwyn rushed to you and pulled you for a hug. “I’m sorry” she said and rubbed your back. “Why?” you asked. Your hands remained on your sides.

“I didn’t know he is your mate.” She replied and broke the hug.

“Oh okay” you shrugged. You wanted to tell her that you would reject the bond and that she could have him if she wanted, but your mouth remained shut. No matter how hard you tried to speak it refused.

“Hello y/n, it’s good to have you back” Cassian smiled. “Azriel is going to train you today because I will be sparring with the girls.” He continued at nodded at the ring.

Azriel avoided your gaze and walked to the corner.

“Okay thank you” you said and followed the shadowsinger.

“Any pain?” Azriel asked you and glanced at your hands.

“When I was getting ready, I’m okay now” you replied. Claude had rejoined the other shadows around Azriel, and you secretly hoped it would come back to you after training.

You began stretching and Azriel watched your every move. His eyes lingered on your hands and every time they almost touched the ground he tensed.

“Az I’m fine” you rolled your eyes.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered. You sent him a questioning look and he continued “How did you call me?”

You thought about what you said and blushed.

“Oh I’m sorry…” you started but he cut you off.

“No no it’s okay” he smiled.

You practiced some kicks and worked on your balance. Every time that Azriel thought you were going to fall, his hands were instantly on your waist.

“I won’t fall” you said for the millionth time.

“I know but I don’t want to risk it, you will instinctively stretch your arms and you will get hurt, the pain will be unbearable” he also explained for the millionth time.

“Stop acting like I’m going to break, I know how badly it’s going to hurt but I won’t die” you scoffed.

“Well I’m sorry for caring” he rolled his eyes.

You snorted and shook your head. “Now you care about me? Now you decided to be nice to me? If you treated me like that from the start I wouldn’t be in this situation” you yelled and showed him your hands. You heard a few gasps from behind and noticed everyone’s gazes on your hands.

Azriel teared up and remained silent as he stared on your scarred flesh.

“You know what? Fuck you!” you spat and stormed off.

You entered your room and fell on the bed, sobs shook your body, you didn't know why you blamed him, just yesterday you thought about this and decided that it wasn't his fault. You tensed when your door opened again.

“You think that I don’t blame myself?” Azriel’s broken voice boomed through the house “I know that it is my fucking fault. I know that even though I failed you the first thing you told me was that it isn’t my fault because that’s how fucking good you are. That’s why I wanted you to hate me, because you’re the light and I’m the darkness. Do you know what darkness does? It chases the light away, it destroys it! That’s what I almost did to you.” he was sobbing as he spoke. You noticed how badly he struggled to take a breath.

“No!” you yelled back and stood in front of him “You’re wrong, the light makes the darkness disappear.”

He stared into your eyes and took a step closer.

“I’m what causes your misery. I think it’s best for you to keep a distance.”

You scoffed and moved closer to him, you were now only a few inches away.

“Of course, run away from your problems like a coward.”

His gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“What do you want me to do?” he breathed.

“Fix what you caused. Make it up to me.” You didn’t know why you said that.

“I will, when we reject the bond.”

“Good.” You shouted. “Good” he shouted back.

You remained still for a few moments, staring at each other. You noticed all the shades of brown and green in his eyes and the few flecks of gold, they were unique and you could see that they held way too much pain inside.

“Good” he whispered again and left your room.

“Fuck you” you shouted and slammed the door shut, leaving a whimper at the pain on your hand.

Please let me know if I forgot to tag someone!

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore, @pinksmellslikelove, @bunnyredgirl, @lectoracronica, @tuggboatfishin, @sunnysideup000, @blessthepizzaman, @raisinggray, @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @tsunami-of-tears, @just-a-social-casualty-1, @thelov3lybookworm, @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars, @strangersunghoon , @sosuitcandy , @cat-or-kitten, @ohthemisssery, @starsinyourseyes, @no1massassin, @stained-glass-eyes0708, @vellichor01, @hnyclover

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demxters · 1 year

Note

elle dear, how are you? i saw you opened blurb requests so what about jake holding his girl’s hand in public and doing pda with her for the first around his friend and they’re both just genuinely happy/enjoying the beginning of the relationship?

lyra

—𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

jake seresin x gn!reader

wc: 595

warning(s): none i don't think

find on ao3 here!

a/n: ty for sending this in lyra, i love it and ily. i hope i did this one justice!! <3 got hit by the writing bug this morning and thought i’d attempt to get back into some writing after disappearing for a bit…. i hope everyone is well and i’m sending lots of love!!!!

(ik i said i wasn’t writing on here anymore but i felt guilty for all the blurbs in my inbox so depending on how i feel after this maybe we’ll come back?)

There's a familiar tug in his chest that coincides with the one on his fingers. The lovesick smile on his face hasn't faltered since you walked into The Hard Deck with your fingers laced with his. As the two of you approached the group of aviators huddled in their same booth in the back of the bar, he expected the usual unravel of your fingers from his as you took your spot beside Phoenix.

This time, however, your hand never left his. In fact, it stayed tightly clasped with his own. He loosened his hold on you just a tad when he took his seat beside you, giving you the option to release him if you chose. His actions were only met with the tightening of your fingers around his. You glanced up at him with a small smile that made him freeze on the spot. The way you grabbed onto his hand like it was your lifeline made his heart burst with adoration.

Affection between you and Jake wasn't unfamiliar territory. Public affection on the other hand, was something neither of you had discussed. Your relationship was new. The feelings you elicited in each other was new. He had everything to lose when it came to you. So he let you take the lead. It didn't matter how badly he wanted to hold you close and smother you in kisses in front of his friends. He swallowed that urge to keep you comfortable. To make sure you felt safe.

Which is why he almost couldn't believe his eyes when you failed to let him go as the night went on. Your hand never strayed too far from his and when it did, you had at least some part of your body touching his. Once the initial shock faded from his system, he finally began to reciprocate your actions.

It started with a subtle thumb rubbing gently circles upon your intertwined hands. Then, he was tugging your legs onto his lap under the table, shifting your body to face his ever so slightly.

You fell completely into him, tucking yourself into the crook of his neck right where you belonged while only half listening to your friends' never ending banter.

The two of you felt lighter than you ever have before, being in the comfort of each other's arms despite the public setting. Neither of you really cared that the bar was bustling tonight and that everyone could see you.

You were the only one Jake could see.

Your friends noticed the second the two of you sat down. The dopey smiles never left your faces even as they shifted the topic to things like politics and climate change just to see how you'd react. But the two of you would only nod with those same looks on your faces and silently agree with every point that was made. It was clear to them that neither of you were listening, too caught up in one another to even think about anything else.

They didn't take your absentmindedness to heart. They were actually quite amused by how something as simple as you was able to calm down the usually rambunctious Hangman.

He softly brushes his lips to the top of your forehead in response to the ones on the side of his neck and smiles down at you. All other noise is drowned out as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. This, he realizes, is what he wants to hold onto forever. Just you and him, right here and unabashedly in love.

tgm! taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @bradshawseresinbabe @breezemood @emorychase @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #hangman imagine #hangman oneshot #tgm blurb

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

Natalia texts him four days after Kameron interrupts their date. He has to admit its a shock. He'd kind of just assumed that whatever thing that may have been blooming between them had shrivelled and died. He hadn't been as distraught as he thought he might be, in fact he'd been a little lighter since she walked out.

(Until Eddie had told them about bumping into Marisol at the hardware store, but he doesn't really want to think about that too closely.)

They meet up at a coffee shop because Buck isn't quite sure what to expect, but somehow inviting her back to his apartment feels like a step over the line.

"I'm really sorry," she says as soon as she sits down. "I reacted poorly and I just wanted to get my head on straight before I got back to you again."

"I get it," Buck shrugs, smiles. "I dropped a hell of a lot on you that night. Like all at once. Guess its easier when its just words and not a very pregnant woman on your doorstep."

"Yeah." Natalia laughs, ducking her head. Buck knows she's beautiful, stunning even, but he doesn't feel it. "It was a bit of a shock to say the least." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at him. "I was blindsided, I reacted badly, I'm sorry."

Buck bites back the instinctual dismissal on his tongue, hears an echo of Eddie's you don't have to be anything for anyone.

"Thank you for saying that." Its an awkward thing to say, but Buck is getting better at not cutting parts of himself off to fit into other's perception of him.

"Did I blow this?" She grimaces at him, an apologetic thing that makes Buck huff a small laugh. "I feel like I blew it." She bites her lip. "Its just... You know, you spend so much of your life confronting death that you forget to be afraid of it. But the act of creating life," she releases a long exhale, "that's terrifying to me."

"And I get that." Buck nods, but he doesn't. Not really. His job is filled with so much death, life is a luxury, a privilege. Every time they get to help a mother give birth to her child, Buck feels an old wound from a loss on the job heal. The circle of life, Chim would call it.

"I just." Natalia sighs. "This isn't really something you say on like a third date, but I also feel like the whole sperm donor thing wasn't a second date topic, so I'm just gonna say it anyway." She glances over at a couple in the corner, the man wiping foam off their toddler's chin. "I'm not ready for the whole life thing." Buck blinks. "Like kids. I just don't see it happening for me. That's why I reacted the way I did."

"Because Kameron was pregnant?" Buck frowns, heart stuck on her words.

"Because you're a father," she says plainly.

"But I'm not." Buck huffs, scrubs his hands over his trousers. "I'm the donor, not the dad. I'm not really involved. I just gave them my DNA. Sure, I might see the kid from time to time but that's because Connor and Kameron are my friends. Its not because I'm actually that kid's father."

"But..."

"No, Natalia. I am nothing to that child apart from a family friend. That's it." Buck says it and something inside him settles.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Buck nods. "You want to get a coffee? Try again?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice." She smiles at him, and Buck reaches for his phone just as it buzzes.

christopher: i need your help

christopher: dad's hopeless

Buck snorts down at the texts and shoots an apologetic look up at Natalia as he types out a response.

tell him not to touch anything and i'll come over to help around dinner

"Everything okay?" Natalia quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Buck stuffs his wallet into his pocket as they stand up. "Eddie, um, firefighter Diaz," she nods in recognition, "he's trying to help his son with this big project he has. And Christopher is asking me for help, so I can only assume he's doing an embarrassingly bad job."

christopher: you better hurry, i don't want to fail because dad glued his sliders to the floor

Buck sends a line of emojis he know Chris will get a kick out of decoding before looking up at a silent Natalia. There's something calculating to the slight furrow between her brows that makes his hackles rise.

"And..." She purses her lips. Buck finds himself swallowing in anticipation of whatever she's about to say. "Do you help your co-worker's son with his homework a lot?"

"Eddie's my best friend," Buck clarifies. "Well, no. Christopher is my best friend. But Eddie's a close second. I help out whenever I can." He cuts himself off before he can say anything else, already feeling like he's revealed too much. "Um, w-why?"

"Do you have a picture of him?" she asks. Buck flashes his lockscreen at her, and Natalia smiles sweetly but it looks like she's just figured something out. "He's cute."

"The cutest," Buck murmurs, stealing a quick look at the picture of Chris squirming away from one of Eddie's hugs. "Although he'd probably disown me as a best friend for calling him that now. He's getting too old."

"Buck," Natalia says softly, "I don't think this is going to work out."

"What?" He frowns, figures it would be rude to check his texts when he's being broken up with - if it can even be called a break-up at this point.

"Just the concept of you bringing life into this world was enough to terrify me." She shrugs. "But there's an actual, real life you're shaping and helping to do his homework and looking at like he's the reason you came back from the dead. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Christopher's not my kid, though." It feels like a lie as he says it, tastes like ash in his mouth the moment he thinks it.

"Isn't he?" Natalia taps his phone screen so that it lights up on that same picture of Christopher. She smiles at him weakly. "It was nice meeting you, Buck. Thanks for giving me some answers about death, I hope you can find the answers in your life."

Natalia leaves him in the coffee shop with a sweep of her hand down his arm, and Buck fumbles with a thousand desires all rising to the surface at once. None of which are a desire to run after her. But there's one, there's one stronger, louder, bigger than all the rest. One that makes him want to run all the way to homework club.

on my way, bud

#sami rambles #okayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy still getting used to writing natalia so bear with me. but yeah.#also all of my ficlets over the next few days are probably going to be about buck and chris bc those are the ideas i have so. yeah.#911 spoilers #911 fox #911 show #evan buckley #christopher diaz #buddie #911 spec #911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #911 spec fic #buckley diaz family fic #buckley diaz family #buck and christopher #natalia dollenmeyer #911 fic #911 fanfic

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ninigummysmile · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞́

Summary: Everyone thinks Rosé is naive, but you discover that she's not so innocent when you read her diary

Sub!Rosé x Dom!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.700

You are not one of the most studious students, who gets the highest grades and who manages to answer all the exercises. But you don't do too badly either, you have relatively good grades, an average student and you do what you can to pass the year.

That's why you're not in Rosé's circle of friends. She is an exceptional student, who gets top marks in all subjects and is always praised by teachers as an example to be followed.

You've watched her from afar and like everyone else, you can deduce that she's a sweet, kind girl who tries to help however she can. And that's why there are people who take advantage of her, leaving her with a reputation for being naive and trusting others very easily.

Do you really believe that she is the exception to "the quiet ones are the worst", because as someone who doesn't go to parties, just studies and dedicates herself to it and usually doesn't react to certain mean jokes made in class can have a polluted mind?

You snap out of your daydream when the bell rings and slowly start to pack up your stuff, briefly saying goodbye to your friends, you get up and sling your bag over your back when you spot a small book under a chair. It probably fell when someone was putting his stuff away and didn't notice it missing.

You pick up the little book and on the first page it says “This diary belongs to Rosé ” in a pink glitter pen.

Thinking it disrespectful to pry into someone's life in this way, you keep the diary with the intention of returning it first thing tomorrow morning.

During the afternoon you tried everything in your power to forget about the damn diary kept in your backpack. What could be more in those pages? Probably just reports of what her days are like and important memories she doesn't want to forget...

You know you'll be invading her privacy if you read something that personal, and you feel bad just imagining yourself reading it. But you were always so curious, stubborn and that when you want something you go to the end. You decide that you will only read the first few pages with the certainty that there will be nothing dark and if you start reading something too intimate, you will stop immediately.

You place the diary on top of your bed and after long minutes staring at the cover, you open it again to the first page and read the small name again. “Rosé”. You're about to learn things about a classmate that you've never seen speak openly about herself to others.

Turning to the second page, the title “Thought 23” appears large. You realize that this must be the second version of a diary. In cursive it reads:

“Today she was biting the top of her pen while she was concentrating on paying attention in class and I couldn't help but imagine that same mouth biting my nipples.”

You stop for a second wide-eyed and trying to decipher if that's what you just read. Does Rosé, the innocent, sweet, kind girl just write that kind of thing when no one is around?

Your eyes automatically return to the paragraph and continue:

“With your hands trailing all over my body while your mouth plays with my breasts. I already imagined her beautiful lips on all parts of my body, especially on my pussy, but I can't deny that the sight of her swallowing my breasts must be magnificent.”

You swallow hard. So Rosé imagines herself with another girl? And it's not just thoughts, to begin with there are more than 20 and for her to write, they are more than imaginations, it's a desire that she unconsciously wants to really happen.

On the third page, a new title, “Thought 24” occupies the first lines.

“Y/n. It's all that occupies my mind. Y/n, Y/n and Y/n.”

That's what you read? Does Rosé think of you? Is the diary about you? Are these imaginations all about you?

“Y/n, who has a pretty face when she's trying to solve an exercise and I wonder if that's the same look she has when she's about to come. With her furrowed brows and a little pout that makes me want to kiss it away.”

Your breathing quickens and you are momentarily dizzy, absorbing that the diary concerns you. The book is not all complete, looking for the last filled page, you find “Thought 32”. You ponder whether from the beginning this is about you or what page it started from.

After reading everything, you don't know how you're going to return the lost diary, you don't even know if you can look her in the eyes and pretend you don't know anything.

The next morning, you hope to find the blonde hair in the hall before you enter the classroom because that way it will be less embarrassing. You catch them from afar and when she approaches you say “good morning”.

“Good morning” she replies with the same shyness as always and staring at the floor.

“Can we talk?” she nods and you walk into a room that you know won't be used during that time of day. You take the diary out of your bag and hold out your hand for her to take. “I found it yesterday under your chair, I believe it fell and you didn’t notice”

You can see her cheeks flush and her hands grab the material quickly putting it inside her bag. “You read?” her voice is weak and full of shame.

“No” you reply and take a deep breath. “Yes, I read it” you confess. “I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but my curiosity increased tenfold when I found out it was a diary!"

She doesn't know what to say, she just wants a big hole to form around her and swallow her whole. She mentally already makes plans to change schools and not need to look at you ever again. Maybe she'll even move out of town.

“You know…” you break the silence. “When I read all of this stuff you write about me, I couldn't deny how wet I was. I didn't know these thoughts would make me so excited”

You can see by her face that her mind is completely blank and you can't hold back a little laugh. “C’mon, baby. You're not going to play innocent now, are you? This same person standing here in front of me is the same person who wrote so many impure thoughts about me”

“I didn't think you'd ever know about all this” she says quietly, but you can hear her.

“But now I know. So, just ask me, your wish can come true”

“Serious?” you smile, she is very cute.

“All you ever had to do was ask me. You don't know it, but you always had me in the palm of your hand” you tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and slowly your lips meet. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly turns into a fierce and battle for dominance.

You separate with shortness of breath and you command “sit at the table”. She obeys and opens her legs for you to position yourself between them.

The buttons on her uniform are undone one by one and the fabric slides down her arms, your hands deftly unclasping her bra. “Is this how you imagined it?” you ask before biting down on one of her nipples and she throws her head back.

Trying to put as much of her breast in your mouth as possible, your hand that was playing with the other one starts to explore and slide over her body, exactly as described in the diary.

You make her lie down on the cold table and unzip her skirt, tossing it beside your feet. You see her stain marking her wet panties and without a second thought, your tongue licks her entrance over the thin fabric. She tries to suppress her moans by biting her hand, but you can still hear her whimpers as you circle her bundle of nerves.

You remove her panties and almost groan at the beautiful sight. “That's the most beautiful fucking pussy I've ever seen in my life”

Rosé can swear this is just another one of her dreams and that when she wakes up she'll have to relieve herself, but when your tongue teases her clit and her eyes roll back deliciously, she's sure this is really happening.

You can swear that you would spend hours eating her out, in all possible positions. She tastes sweet, her swollen clit makes you want to devour it, and her beautiful, tight hole contracting around nothing makes you want to make her come over and over again just to see her contracting around air, just asking for something to fill it more and more.

You insert two fingers and they are swallowed by her soft and tight walls. The sound it makes when you move them in and out is pornographic and addictive.

Your mouth goes back to sucking on the bundle of nerves and you're determined to make this the best orgasm she's ever had.

Her legs begin to shake violently and when her eyes slam shut, you know your reward is coming. When her juice comes into contact with your fingers, you help her through orgasm before pulling them out and cleaning them with all the thirst in the world. Her pussy twitching, begging to be filled again, almost makes you come back with your fingers, but you settle for cleaning it with your mouth, knowing she must be overstimulated.

You bite and mark her thigh as her breathing returns to normal and she can come back to reality.

“There you are” you comment helping her to sit down.

“That was amazing”

“Yeah? How did you imagine?”

“Even better” she says and you smile.

“Good, because you can expect more like these. I want to make every page of that a fact and not just a thought” you wink and help get her clothes back on.

#rosé park #rosé #park chaeyoung #bp rosé #kpop smut #blackpink #rosé smut #blackpink smut #ninigummysmilesmut #rosé x reader

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jdbellingham · 1 year

Text

new years - jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x best friend reader

summary: as the bellingham brothers’ best friend, you had learned how to get the upper hand over them, and at new years when you are told to bring a game you have just the trick. but the one thing you didn’t expect from your game is what you got in return.

note: sorry I wrote this a while ago but haven’t gotten to posting it :)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, fluff?

Every year since you’d befriended the Bellingham brothers, you’d attended all of their holiday parties–and New Years was no exception. This year, Denise, Jude’s mother, had decided to make the party a bit more interesting. She had asked everyone attending to bring a fun challenge or game, and whoever won the most points that night would get to have one ask that no one could refuse. When you’d first heard your mind went completely blank, you didn’t know what to bring. But later that night you had dinner with Jude and Jobe, going to get Chinese food after Jobe had finished his final practice of the year. When you were eating you realized that the two of them didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and a shit-eating grinning spread across your face.

“Why do you have that devious smirk on your face y/n,” Jude looked up from his plate and began laughing when he saw your expression. Jobe casted a curious glance at you as well, furrowing his brows at your strange smile.

“No reason,” You had replied, snickering to yourself. You knew Jude and Jobe were overly competitive, and when they couldn’t win something they hated it. So what better way to whoop their asses on New Year’s Eve than to play dirty and bring a game with chopsticks?

–

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jude blatantly spat out, his mouth parted in a small semi circle when you pulled out your game.

“Language, Jude!” Denise exclaimed and swatted her son’s arm, gesturing not so inconspicuously to the 6 year old lad that was watching some cartoons on his mother’s phone.

“She’s a cheater!” Jude acknowledged his mom’s words but chose not to respond to her, then threw his hands up, and Jobe nodded in agreement.

“It’s not cheating, you guys just don’t know how to use chopsticks,” You snorted, and Jude gave you a look that made you laugh even harder.

“This is why you wanted your game to go last, so you could make us remember how badly we did,” Jude accused, and you shook your head and ignored him.

“Everyone has got a minute to transfer as many jelly beans as they can from the bowl on the left to the bowl on the right–using chopsticks,” You explained to them, dishing out hefty portions of the sweets to each of the guests, sending Jude a wink at the last part of your instructions.

After setting everything up you took your place next to Jude, sitting snugly into the chair. You felt Jude’s soft gaze on you, and it made the butterflies in your stomach dance joyfully, flitting around as your face began to burn a pinkish-red. You absent-mindedly wondered how Jude hadn’t noticed your shift in behavior around him. Ever since the summer the two of you were 17 your feelings for him had morphed into less platonic and far more romantic ones.

“Okay, the timer starts in 3…2…1…Now!” Denise exclaimed, stirring you out of the stupor that had left you blankly staring at the boy you had tried to convince yourself you could only ever be best friends with in hopes of dwindling your not-so friendly feelings.

You picked up your chopsticks and began picking up jelly bean after jelly bean, all the while watching Jude put one chopstick in each hand and try fruitlessly to move a single sweet into another bowl.

The timer began beeping, and everyone placed their chopsticks down. You took a peek at Jude’s bowl and was surprised to see a single bean sitting in it.

“Well done,” You patted his back, trying to contain a laugh. Ever since the two of you had started becoming best friends you’d loved mocking him. Even when you stopped thinking of him as one-

“Oh shut it,” Jude whined, interrupting your thoughts while reclining into his chair then crossing his arms in frustration.

“Says the person who can’t use chopsticks,” You elbowed him, leaning heavily into his side. Your rib bones chafed against his, even through the layers of cloth that stood between you.

“What does that have to do with the fact I told you to quiet down?!” Jude complained, pushing his shoulder into yours, his chair scooting closer to yours as he did so.

Denise finally made her way down the table to where you and Jude sat, a smile gracing her lips when she caught the two of you shoving each other.

“Well, it’s obvious you didn’t win,” Denise remarked, not even bothering to count what was in Jude’s bowl.

“The two of you are so mean!” Jude exclaimed dramatically, putting his face in his hands.

“You act as if you have zero points,” You scoffed, turning in your seat to face him.

“Still!” Jude argued, and Denise finished counting the beans in your bowl.

“Quiet down,” You hushed the whiny boy beside you, eyes following Denise who was announcing the final points now that the games were over.

“Okay, now that the final game is over I will be announcing the top 5 scorers, from least to most points,” Denise elaborated, then took a look at her clipboard (which funnily enough she had bought just for this occasion).

“In 5th place is John, with 36 points,” And the 6 year old who had been watching what you thought was cocomelon shouted gleefully.

“4th place is Mark, with 39 points,” Denise continued, “3rd place is Jobe with 45 points,”

You glanced over at Jude, who looked heavily invested. He was quite literally at the edge of his seat, wondering if he had gotten first or second place.

“And lastly, 1st place is Jude and Y/n who tied at 61 points,” Denise finished, and you began doubling over in laughter.

“Are you serious?” Jude’s mouth in a large “O” shape.

“Is the pope catholic?” Denise questioned, raising her brows at her eldest son.

“It’s because of your stupid chopsticks game,” Jude groaned, grabbing your hoodie and burying his face into it, then leaving his head to rest on your chest.

“Aw, it’s okay you suck,” You feigned a sympathetic tone as you ran your hand over his hair.

“Fuck off,” He mumbled, and you could barely make out what he said through the muffle of your hoodie.

“What are you guys gonna ask for?” John, the tiny boy, questioned you and Jude. He had approached you with his mother’s phone in his hand, but it was forgotten and at his side by the time he asked his question.

“We’ll have to think about it,” You reply, and Jude lifts his face up, jutting his chin into your left breast. You shove it downwards to a less painful area as he speaks to John.

“I’m probably gonna get her to do something stupid,” Jude whispered, full-well knowing you could hear.

John giggled and ran back towards his mom, who sent an apologetic smile, probably thinking he had bothered you.

“Get off of me Jude,” You sighed, attempting to push him upright and into his own seat. He groaned and used his hands to grab your hips, pulling himself back onto you. At the very feel of his touch your skin burned, sending another bout of butterflies through your body.

“No, I’m so tired Y/n just let me lay here,” He protested, the end of his sentence stretched to a long whine. You looked down at him, his wide brown eyes staring into yours.

“If you're going to use me as a pillow at least let us move to the coach,” You caved after a moment of silence, and Jude obliged with a smile plastered onto his features.

–

You felt yourself being shaken awake, John’s tiny hands pulling at your hair. You stared at him quizzically before he offered an explanation.

“New Years in 5 minutes,”

You thanked him and he trotted away, then you shifted your attention to Jude. The two of you had fallen asleep together on the large L-shaped sofa in the living room. Jude’s large frame laying atop your smaller one, his head rested on your chest whilst your arms encircled him. The position the two of you were in made your brain turn to mush, the proximity was driving you mad. You stared at his soft pinkish lips, wishing you could press them against yours.

It was almost as if Jude could hear you thinking, and he began to stir under your embrace, his head shifting to rest on his left cheek and his eyes fluttering before going shut again.

“Hey Jude,” You said softly, and Jude’s eyes flew open, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey gorgeous,” Jude replied, his voice sleepy. You weren’t sure why he had decided to use that pet name, but you weren’t going to complain.

“Get up, it’s almost new years,” You began to get up, and this time Jude obliged.

The two of you straightened out your clothing and headed out to the backyard where a large projector was casting the countdown onto a large white screen.

You stood by Jobe, Jude on your other side. As you started to make conversation with Jobe you felt Jude’s hand grab at yours. You allowed him to take it, feeling confused at his newly affectionate behavior.

“One minute left!” Someone shouted, and your eyes glanced at the projector screen.

“Y/n I’m going to use my ask on you,” Jude told you, the clock just hitting the 35 second mark.

“Jude there's 30 seconds left, it's really not the time,” You replied dismissively, still staring at the projector as the numbers slowly got smaller and smaller.

“Y/n look at me,” Jude demanded, and you finally turned to face him.

“What? What do you want?” You questioned, eyes holding onto his, even as you felt his hand leave yours.

“10! 9! 8!” The others began shouting a countdown, and Jude looked more panicked than ever.

“Kiss me,” He finally managed to get out, and he grabbed your face in his hands, pressing his supple lips against yours just as the countdown hit one. Your hands reflexively went to his chest, and you felt the unmistakable curve of defined muscle beneath your palms. You barely registered the cheers everyone yelled around you, your mind focused on the sensation of his body against yours.

The two of you finally pulled away, and Jude grinned like an idiot before softly saying “Happy New Year y/n,”

“Can I ask you to do something for me Jude,” You inquired, moving the conversation forward. You noticed how sharp Jude’s features were in the firelight contrasted by the dark night sky.

“Anything,” His eyes twinkled, wondering what exactly you wanted.

“Ask me to be your girlfriend,”

“Be my girlfriend y/n,” Jude immediately replied, and you smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“Thought you’d never ask,” You said, half honest and half sarcastic. Your heart was pounding crazily in your chest, still in shock of the events that had occurred in the last minute.

“Should’ve asked you sooner if I'm being honest,” Jude tilted his head while his eyes remained on your face, studying the features he’d loved for years.

“Can I ask you for one more thing?” You continued, staring back up at him. You figured you might as well ask for what you wanted, even if it was the heat of the moment.

“Anything for you, love,” Jude replied, the nicknames he was calling you tonight absolutely melting your insides.

“Kiss me again,”

note: working on reqs! I’m so sorry for the delay I’ve been swamped with volleyball and finals :(

if your name is below but not tagged I’m removing it from the list because it won’t let me tag you—prob bc u have a private blog—sorry!!

taglist: @raspberii @xaelia-au @mxyzptlkss @nonaism @itsmevalery @neysl0ver @crowdthena @qvirky-y @azvault @britneysbitch @futbol10 @cooloperajudgebear @lomlcherry @slvt4peterparker @saywhatiwants @richarlisonluvr @milkteabish @kyekai @jinjidontucry @wavessmile @angelxxrose-blog @meehhangryfun @fezlvr @wonderharryy @graysondolansmaid @hazalnut @eddiew-k @livinglifethroughfanfic @l0st-exe @superswaggycooch @honkkey47 @cialovessirlewis @capriaura @maeumiluv @alicesolengg @f1lover55 @frenchgirlsblog @bath1lda @luvelyxp @neymarjrsrealwife @notbluees @yooriscousin @neymarjrsrealwife @wehehwwh @landosmilkjug @edgyficuselastica

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iamqueenpotato · 1 year

Text

Hurts Like Hell

Azriel x Reader

A/N- I want to thank everyone for all the support with my writing, you guys are amazing ❤️ I wrote this piece based on the song Hurts like hell by Tommee Profitt and Fleurie, well like the first part of it. That being said this is just straight angst. I was in a mood ✨️ Enjoy!

Summary: Y/N and Azriel are mates, but when Azriel begins changing, it doesn't seem that love between them exists anymore.

⚠️: Angsty

Word count: 2.6k

Part Two Final Part

How can I say this without breaking

How can I say this without taking over

How can I put it down into words

When it's almost too much for my soul alone

I loved and I loved and I lost you

And it hurts like hell

Yeah it hurts like hell

~~~~~~~

Love was always something you felt you didn’t deserve, your entire life had been shaped around heartbreak, no matter if it was from previous lovers or the family that disowned you. But then you found Azriel and the inner circle, it was then you truly understood the meaning of unconditional love.

You were brought in by Madja, she found you volunteering at the nearby clinic in Velaris, and was impressed by your work and the powers you possessed, claiming you would be a great help to her. After that your life began at the house of wind, constantly on standby at first during the inner circles training, making sure no one ended up with anything more than a minor concussion. Then on call when anyone went on missions.

Cassian was the first one to greet you, his presence was intimidating but then you got to know him and you quickly realized he was just a giant sweetheart, he always knew how to make you laugh. To be fair the entire inner circle intimidated you at first but the more you spent time with them the more you felt at home.

Azriel was always silent around you as if he was trying to understand you like you were some puzzle that needed to be solved. You only talked to him on occasion, when you were healing him or at parties, making small conversation. But then the small talks turned into long conversations and shared secrets. Soon feelings started to bloom within you for the Illyrian male.

Then he got injured, badly.

You and Madja were on rotating shifts taking care of the shadowsinger for weeks. During one of your shifts you were finishing up your nightly check on him, when you placed your hand within his, praying that he would be okay, you didn’t mean to linger but the fear of losing him became too real and when you moved to leave, he held on to you, pulling you on to the bed with him. He thanked you for healing him and begged you to stay. It was rare for a bond to snap at the same time for mates, but as you lay there, you felt that thread. The beautiful life that it was, which intertwined the two of you together.

After that moment you two were attached at the hip, Azriel would pick you up from the clinic with your favorite flowers in hand, you two were so engrossed with each other, at family events you wouldn’t even know what occurred throughout the night since your focus was only on your mate. You two would spend nights together reading by the fire, talking so much that sometimes you would forget to sleep. It was the happiest you had been, but little did you know the happiness would be cut short.

After the Archeron sisters were turned into fae, a lot of things changed around the inner circle, you had nothing against the girls, you liked them, and you found friends within each of them but Azriel began changing, he was either spending a lot of time with Elain or spending nights at the house of wind, then suddenly the bond between you two was seemingly always closed off on his side, when he did come home, he came home late. His focus seemed to be on anyone other than you when you two went out with your family. He hadn’t touched you in what seemed like weeks, you honestly were beginning to forget what it felt like to be held by him. You assumed Azriel had his reasons but you wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t bother you.

It wasn’t until your tenth anniversary came, and you spent the entire day preparing his favorite food, buying his favorite wine, ready to celebrate this love that you cherished so deeply. You knew something was wrong. You waited. And waited. You pulled on the bond, to make sure he was okay but you were met with nothing but coldness.

But then he never came. He forgot. And you were met with a new pain that shattered your heart. You drank the bottle of wine by yourself, threw away the meal you prepared, and spent the rest of the night crying yourself to sleep. But were awoken when you heard him open the front door, you didn’t move, and you didn’t greet him. When he entered your shared bedroom, you smelled it. The sickening sweet floral smell seemed to radiate off of him. He moved to your side to kiss you on the cheek, you didn’t open your eyes, letting him fix the covers on you before he moved into the bathroom to shower. You don’t remember falling asleep but by the time you woke up, Azriel was gone once again. His side of the bed was cold, and empty, as though he never slept there.

You spent most weeks at the clinic, away from the house of wind, you told Madja you missed the work there, and she didn’t question it. Each day you waited for Az to show, to spend time with you, that maybe he would remember you, remember the life you had together, but every day he came home late and left early, and suddenly that feeling of love that you once felt for your mate was dimming, and it started breaking that hope you had for love.

You were sitting by the fire in your townhome one day when there was a knock at the door, you sauntered to it, finding Nesta and Feyre on the other side. You moved to the side to let them in, then sluggishly moved back to your seat by the fire, it was the only thing keeping you warm nowadays.

“Y/N are you doing okay?” Nesta asked, kneeling in front of you. You wanted to be strong, you were tired of shedding so many tears. But the second you looked at Nesta you broke.

Feyre moved next you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?”

You explained everything to them, how Azriel had pushed you aside, how you haven’t seen him for days, how he had closed off that bond, that once was so cherished by him. You told them about your anniversary, when he came home late smelling like another female. It was hard to say these things out loud, afraid to be called crazy for overreacting about all of this. But both sisters hugged you tightly, apologizing that they didn’t notice something sooner.

“I’ll kick his ass.” Nesta stated, she was angry, and you couldn’t help but feel loved that she was so willingly ready to protect you like that.

“Nesta its okay, can we go out tonight? I need a distraction.”

“Yes, we can do that.”

It was the first time you had gotten dressed up in the last few months, Nesta and Feyre picked out your outfit, high-waisted black jeans, and a strapless dark green top, that exposed your back and opened down right above your navel, they did your makeup. After, they went back to get ready, and when they sent Mor to grab you, you were ready to have a good night, no matter what.

Rita’s was packed per usual, Mor interlocked her arm with yours and brought you to the bar, both of you taking a couple of shots before moving to the dance floor. You were thankful for your friends, and how much they cared. Between the music, the alcohol, and dancing with Mor, Nesta, and Feyre you were happy, you let the music move your body, setting your worries aside for tonight.

After dancing for most of the night, the four of you sat down at your booth, drinking and conversing, and you ended up forgetting why you were even sad in the first place. Rhys showed up, then Cassian, you were over ecstatic to see them, it was weeks since you had spent time with either of them, they both embraced you tightly, Cassian placing a kiss on your cheek. They each sat next to their mates, Mor stuck by you, holding you close. You mentally noted to buy her all the wine she will ever need after tonight. But that coldness that you finally had overcome washed over you again.

You felt him before he even walked in. Your eyes found Azriel walking through the door, but he wasn’t alone. Elain stood in front of him, you avoided his wandering gaze as he gestured her to the booth you all were sitting at. He greeted each one of you, but that’s all you got from your mate, a half-hearted gesture. You ignored how his shadows immediately went to you. They wrapped around your ankles, but he pulled them back. You wanted him to come up to you, to embrace you, you missed him dearly but it seemed he did not feel the same. You moved over, hoping at least he would sit next to you. But he sat on the opposite side of the booth, next to Elain. You acknowledged the looks he was getting from the rest of the inner circle, but he didn't notice a single one. Mor clenched her fist beneath the table, but you placed your shaky hand over hers. You gave her a shy smile, trying your best to hide the pain that you knew was shown so clearly on your face.

You felt so alone, though you were surrounded by everyone that meant so much to you, you felt helpless, broken. You watched as your mate talked with his brothers, his arm gently placed across the back of the booth, his body so close to hers. His gaze never landed on you, only on Elain, he stared at her the way he used to look at you. You didn’t realize you started crying until Rhys stopped talking to look at you. Then everyone else did the same. That was when Azriel finally paid attention to you.

“Y/N.” Mor whispered, but the world around you felt so small, you needed to leave, the room was suffocating you. You stood abruptly, pushing the table in the process, you apologized quietly before you winnowed away, back into the townhome that you couldn’t even call your home anymore.

You wiped your tears away, moving into your bedroom, staring at the emptiness it held. You heard Azriel winnow within the living room, his shadows finding you first, his footsteps rushing into your bedroom soon after. “Y/N what is going on?” He asked.

You didn’t turn to him, he didn’t get to show that he worried about you now. “Now you want to act as if you care?” You spat, venom lacing your voice. You were done being sad, you finally let the anger seep through.

“What are you talking about?” He responded, moving closer to you but you backed away.

You laughed coldly. Typical. "Every day I wondered how I would say this without breaking, how I would put it into words when it's too much for my soul alone, but finally seeing it with my own eyes, to know I wasn’t going crazy, gave me the strength to leave.” You were shocked at yourself for saying these things without faltering but you have waited so long for things to get better, and they never did.

“Wait what do you mean leave, Y/N you can’t leave.” He sounded so broken, but how could you tell if it was the truth?

“Go back to Elain, Azriel.”

“Why would I go to her, you’re my-”

“Mate? It doesn’t seem like it Azriel, months I have spent wondering if you were remaining loyal to me if I remained as a single thought within you. I gave you space, thinking maybe it was a phase, that soon it would pass and I would have my mate again. But that day never came, I stayed up waiting for you every night, and you never showed. I am tired of being your second choice.” Your voice was raised, and Azriel still looked at you as if you were spilling nonsense. “You missed our anniversary and then came home smelling like her. I have forgotten how you feel, how safe I felt when you held me, I miss the nights we would spend talking. But those days seem so distant that even you don’t remember. But then again you haven't been here. You were with Elain.”

“She needed me,” Azriel responded, his fists clenched at his side, and his wings pulled taut behind him. You knew he realized his mistakes, but yet was still making excuses.

“She needed you?” Your voice was harsh, empty. It pained you to have this conversation, to feel as though you had to fight for your mate, for his love. “I needed you Az. My mate. But you have pushed me aside, completely left me in the dust while you occupied yourself with Elain. Because she needed you.” You began to pull a bag from your shared closet. Shoving whatever clothes you could fit. You were tired of fighting for this.

“Wait, Y/N what are you doing?” Azriel moved closer to you, placing a hand over the bag, stopping your movements.

“Move Azriel.” You were stern, he attempted to pull on that bond that he had pushed away for the last few months, but it was your turn to shut him out, maybe then he would understand what it felt like.

“No- no you can’t leave, not like this, tell me we're okay, I-I can’t lose you.” His voice was full of emotion, and tears were falling down his cheeks, but where was he when you spent nights crying?

“No Azriel. We aren’t okay. I loved and loved, with all that I am because I cared so much for you it pained me. But even then it wasn’t enough. I lost you and it hurts like hell.”

“But I’m right here. You haven’t lost me, I am yours.” Azriel was on his knees now, his scarred hands pulling on the bag that was draped over your shoulder, his shadows frantic around the room, you couldn’t look at him, you were afraid that if you did, the wall you built within your mind would break and you would lose the strength that you were relying on.

“Not when you come home, to our shared bed, smelling like another female. Azriel I love you. So much. But I can’t, not when I can’t compete with her.” You found the strength to look at him, keeping your head held high.

Azriels wings sagged behind him, the delicate parts of him he treasured rested lifelessly on his back. “I’m sorry, please I know I made a mistake when I pushed you away, it wasn’t my intention, she isn’t you, you are my love, I would never do that, I never would hurt you.”

You felt the lump in your throat creep up, you needed to leave before your emotions broke through. “But you did. Give me time Azriel. Maybe then I can think all of this over. But until then I can’t be here. Not when I feel like I am alone in all of this.” You took one last look at your mate, the way he seemed so broken, if it was meant to be you two would find your way back to each other. Maybe that love you had dreamed of would reignite.

You moved backward, away from his grip, he looked at you, his hazel eyes glistening with tears. The wall broke as you opened your door, and as hard as it was, as much as it pained you, you pushed yourself through that threshold, leaving Azriel broken and alone within the home you once shared. And it hurt like hell to walk away.

#azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #first time writing #reader insert #acotar fandom #cassian acotar #rhys acotar #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger #x y/n #x reader #azriel fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #azriel angst

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part V)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, friendship comes and goes, discussions of anxiety, discussions of virginity, discussions of sex shaming, frottage (PUSSYJOB), everyone’s very vulnerable.

Word count | ~11,800

A/N | Oooh, mama. It’s been a while. I hope most of the people who like this fic are still around.

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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You like calling Eddie, the sound of his voice over the phone. The way he answers it differently each time:

“This is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin; available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and weddings.”

“Munson residence. The old guy’s out so if you’re looking to buy a collection of novelty mugs now’s the time.”

“You’ve reached the church of Satan; Abaddon the Destroyer speaking. For your free introductory handbook on summoning circles just dial six-six-six.”

And then there’s the happy rise in his tone when he hears it’s you on the other side, the surprised laugh at the sound of your soft hi, Eddie even when he’d asked you to call. The crackle of his breath through the receiver, the way conversations with him are easy however they happen. With anyone else, phone calls feel stilted and awkward, but Eddie talks as if you’re sitting right in front of him.

It makes you warm all over to think about. Eddie wants to see you and kiss you and touch you, but he’s also happy to sit on his couch miles away and speak to you, listen in return to everything you can bring yourself to say.

You have taken to dragging a chair from the kitchen and sitting by the hallway table to talk to him like this whenever you don’t see him in the evening. You spend an hour or two at a time smiling at your mom’s address book, twirling the coiled cord of the phone around your finger while Eddie talks about this day, asks about yours, explains why he’s really into this new Swedish black metal band he’s discovered, checks what you’re reading, shares an idea he has for Hellfire, plans your next date.

Today is no exception. Your dad has walked past muttering about the phone bill twice. Your mom, as usual, has stationed herself in the kitchen within earshot, but what exactly she gets out of hearing the low buzz of Eddie’s voice and your laughter, you don’t know.

"And you're sure you don't wanna come, sweet girl?"

"Yeah, I-" You hesitate, playing with a rose petal from the bowl of potpourri that sits by the phone. "I think I should stay here. Just in case."

In truth, you don't have much hope that May will call, but imagining that she does and you aren’t here to receive it fills you with worry. The last thing you want is to make things any worse between you after you messed up so badly.

It’s not unusual for you to feel this type of regret. When overthinking something delays your actions until it’s too late. You worried so much about how to tell May about Eddie that you left it too long. You should have told her the day you kissed him, should have phoned when you got back from your first date. Instead, you spent your time imagining the conversation, and let your best friend find out something important through somebody else.

You hurt her. She is wounded enough that she really has given up defending you. When Caroline remarks on your silence now, May doesn't attempt to fill the emptiness your lumping throat leaves.

"She's just shy," May used to say, waving her hand. Her embarrassment over your stumbled words and fidgeting hands was clear, then, but you knew she felt for you, even if she didn't understand why she had to. Now she just looks at you expectedly like everyone else, pulls awkward, embarrassed faces when you stumble and fidget through a non-answer.

You had taken to spending more of your lunches helping Heather with her new responsibilities as class president, sitting quietly at debate club and nodding along to her speeches, taking the role of a small country at her model UN meetings. But you are starting to feel her frustration with you, too.

“You don’t have to come to every meeting if you don’t enjoy it.” She said to you after the last UN encounter you’d sat through without uttering a word.

“It’s just, I don’t really know much about Anguilla. But I like hearing you speak.”

Heather smiled with her lips closed. “That’s not what it’s for, though. I think maybe you’d prefer having lunch with May and the cheerleading girls again.”

You felt your cheeks burning, pulled the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands and fiddled with the woollen edges. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Sometimes you think about sitting at Eddie’s table instead. To have another hour of him every day. The picture is nice on its own. Talking to him, to Jeff, even the freshmen Eddie has adopted since the beginning of the year. But then the image zooms out; you at the Hellfire table, May with the cheerleaders, Heather at her clubs, and your chest aches. You don’t know when it happened, when you had to start holding on this tight, digging your nails into them. You only know you’ll leave claw marks on your friendship before you let it go easy.

And while you can never get enough Eddie, you aren’t normally deprived of him outside of the school walls. With anyone else, you might have worried about suffocating him, being clingy. But Eddie makes it clear at every turn how much he wants to be around you. His grin in the mornings when you climb into his van. The way he leans into your space, hair tickling your cheeks, and asks all soft and earnest if you want to go home with him. Some days, he invites you into the trailer to touch and taste you. Others, to sit on his couch or his bed and talk. Or to just spend hours just breathing the same air as him, listening to him scribble in his D&D notebook or strum at his guitar while you read or do your homework.

But you won't see him tonight. Eddie is going to see Fright Night with most of the boys in his club, and it's all he's talked about the past week. He'd asked you to come, all wide brown eyes and dimples, and your stomach had twisted.

"Normally May and I do something around this time each month." You hadn't been able to look him in the eye when you said it, fiddling with his hands instead. You'd rubbed the softness of your thumb over the callused pads of his fingers, knowing he had that look he'd been getting whenever you found yourself bringing your friend up. A little sad, guilt he shouldn't be feeling. Irritation, at you or at her you're not brave enough to ask.

"You sure?" He asks over the phone now. "It'd be pretty easy for me to pick you up. I'm giving Wheeler a ride. He's just down the street from your place."

You feel a wave of fondness for him, for the lie he’s just told. He isn’t aware that you know exactly where Mike Wheeler lives. You’ve babysat Holly since you were sixteen, and the route to her home takes half an hour in your dad's car.

"I'm sure," you say, trying to sound firm. "But I hope you like the movie."

"If it's good, maybe we can see it together another time."

"You wouldn't mind going twice?"

"I'd watch the same movie twenty times in a row if you promised to come to the last one." He laughs, sounding enough like he means it that your smile hurts your cheeks.

"That might be a touch excessive," you murmur. "Twice sounds like enough."

"How about tomorrow? We could get dinner first, make a real date out of it."

Your face heats up like the first time Eddie asked you out. You touch your toe to your ankle, winding the cord of the phone tight around your finger. You whisper. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You press your knees together. "That sounds nice."

"Unless the movie's shit, then we'll have to call the whole thing off." You laugh down the phone, imagining the tease in Eddie’s smile. "I'll have a review for you by tomorrow, sweet thing."

"Okay, Eddie."

"And I'm not leaving for another ten minutes. If you change your mind, just call, okay?"

"Okay, Eddie," you repeat. "Have a nice time."

"See you soon, beautiful."

Your toes curl. "See you soon."

When he's gone and the phone is back in its holder, you have to sit tense and still for a second to avoid making some kind of happy squeal, settling for curling your fingers into your skirt and tapping your heels wildly against the floor.

You still feel a little dizzy with the thought of him when you pull the chair back into the kitchen, enough that you jump when your mom speaks. "That Eddie on the phone?"

You fix her with a look, because she knows exactly who you were talking to, and she gives you a mock innocent smile that shifts into a real one.

“You were laughing a lot.”

Her hands drip soapy water from the kitchen sink, finishing up the dishes that would have been done ten minutes ago if she hadn't dragged it out for an excuse to stay where she could hear you. You chew the inside of your lip while you take the next freshly cleaned plate from her. Grabbing a dry dish cloth to drag across the ceramic, you shrug one shoulder.

“He’s funny.”

“And you like that about him?”

“Mom.”

“Just a question!” She says, holding her hands up, before grabbing the dish towel from you to wipe her wet hands. “You talk more, when it’s him on the phone. Did you know that?”

“You listen to all my conversations?”

“I’m your mother,” she laughs, bumping your hip with hers. “And I’ve never heard you so chatty.” You give her another look and she reconsiders. "Chatty for you. There's been times I've rounded that corner surprised you were even on the phone, you're so quiet. I mean, with that last boy-” She hums a disapproving tone, reaches out to fix the collar of your cardigan. "I swear you'd sit there and not say anything at all."

“It's easier to talk to Eddie,” you admit, thinking about how pleased he looks when you ramble about what you're reading, the last kid you babysat, even the new eyeshadow palette you’d saved up for and felt a touch immature being so excited about. All his encouraging nods, all the questions and affirmations afterwards. "He's…"

He’s a million good things. Too many to name, too many to put in order. You glance at her to the side, raising one shoulder.

"I like him," she declares. "I think he's good for you."

Your face is hot and uncomfortable, but it still feels nice to agree. "I think so, too."

When the dishes are away and your mom is settled on the couch with your dad watching Quincy reruns, you walk slowly upstairs, hoping that the phone will ring again before your door closes.

You make a bet with yourself in your head. If it rings before I get to my room, it’ll be May. It’ll be May and she’ll want to be friends again and everything will be alright. You reach the top, spy the door the end of the hall. Any time after, it’ll be somebody else; a sales call, a chatty relative.

All you hear as you pad across the landing is your parents laughing at the TV.

With your door closed, your heart sore, you glance at your desk on the other side of the room, the cork pin board behind it decorated with memories. There is your first concert ticket, next to a postcard from the first time you left this country by plane. An askew origami frog that a boy you used to babysit made for you. A pom-pom that detached from the winter hat you wore from October to March three years running in middle school.

There is Heather. One photo as she is now, smiling at you over a yellow smoothie. Another couple from your first years together, at the edge of womanhood. Her in braces and her mother's lipstick, the aquamarine taffeta dress she wore to your first high school prom.

And there is May. She is everywhere, over and over again, in all the stages of her life since you met. She is in pigtails, her small hand in yours, her gap toothed grin next to your close lipped smile. She is in this room, with sparkling eyelids, the earliest and most keen model for your interest. She is at the Spring fair of 1979, holding cotton candy you'd shared soon after the photo was taken. She is at that first concert, decked out in Wham! merchandise. Swim meets and cheer competitions. A line of photo booth strips. You are there with her; both giggling, eyes crossed and tongues rolled.

May has been a constant in your life, but now your life has shifted. Maybe you have to accept that she doesn’t want to shift with it.

The phone rings downstairs.

You hear your dad huff, the sound of your mom rising from the couch and heading through the hall. You hold your breath, listen to the buzz of her landline specific voice, all breezy politeness. Then she calls your name.

You practically throw yourself down the stairs, slipping at the last couple in your socks. You have to hold yourself back from grabbing the phone from her. Taking just a second to glance over your shoulder to check that she's actually walking away, you whisper into the phone. “Hello?”

"Where are you? I rented Footloose." Tears prick in your eyes at the sound of May’s voice. You look up to the ceiling, silent for too long. “You still there?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Where are you?” She repeats. “Second Friday of the month. It’s movie night.”

“I didn’t-” You swallow, blinking tears away as they rise and trying not to sniffle. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

"Of course I want to see you,” she answers. “You're my best friend."

You feel your bottom lip shaking, can’t fight the sniffles this time. You drag the sleeve of your cardigan across your eyes, voice cracking when you speak next. "You really mean it, May?"

"I’m inviting you round, aren’t I?” She says, sharp tone softened by a sigh crackling in your ear through the receiver. “Of course I mean it.” You hum a high sound, a stifled sob of relief, eyes squeezed shut. “Now, come watch Kevin Bacon shake his ass with me."

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You are warm under the silken soft quilt pulled from May’s bed. Your stomach is heavy with buttered popcorn and gummy worms. Your skin is soft from the homemade face masks you made in her kitchen, singing along to Cyndi Lauper and listening to May read the recipe aloud from the newest YM magazine dropped on her doorstep just this morning.

Stirring oatmeal and yoghurt together like a potion, you felt a pang of nostalgia. For a second, you were seven years old, standing with May over a muddy puddle, your makeshift cauldron brimming with gathered leaves, stones, and red berries. You’d mix it up with long, gnarled twigs and cackle together like the witches. The mucky water wasn’t just mud, then. It was poison, it was love potion. It was magic, made together.

Today, at eighteen, you glanced up at May’s concentrated face while she attempted to separate egg whites from yolks, and let yourself be soothed by the thought that maybe some things are still as they were.

Footloose was abandoned after Kevin Bacon finished throwing himself rhythmically around an empty warehouse, May’s interest in it vanishing swiftly after that. You found yourself on the couch talking while the film played on in the background until the popcorn was finished and the oats could be washed from your face.

Then May led you up to her room, almost as familiar to you as your own.

The cream lambskin rug, still matted and stained in one corner from that time you’d spilt nail polish over it. Terrified you might not be allowed to come over anymore, May told her mom it was her, and she was grounded for a week.

You bought her those fairy lights, the ones that hang above her bed. Last year, you wrapped them in pink tissue paper, felt the satisfying swell of a present well chosen when she’d hugged you tight with the box still in her hand.

May has her own cork board. Amongst plastic medals and concert tickets, there is you at that fair, you and Heather at prom, the second strip from the photo booth.

“And it’s like, when was it decided that we had to pick our whole future at eighteen, anyway?” May asks, eyebrows twitching like she wants to furrow them. She fights through it, keeping them high on her forehead to let you smooth powder over her lids. “Here I am, barely out of the cradle!” You snort, and her mouth tilts a touch. “Feels like I started walking last week, and now it’s all, what do you mean you don’t have a clue what you want to do with your life? It just feels crazy to me.”

“It is.” You shift forward on the soft shag carpet, your knees bumping hers under the throw keeping your legs warm.

“Right? I mean, you know that your brain doesn’t even really mature until you’re, like, twenty-five? So I am close enough to a child that I really shouldn’t have this responsibility.”

Humming in agreement, you rub your thumb at the corner of her eye, smudging the edge of the lilac eyeshadow there.

“At least I have an idea where I’m going. Indiana State, here I come. You’re still applying for NYU, right?”

“Mm. Maybe,”

“Oh, come on, you have to apply at least!” She insists, eyelids twitching. “It’s the place to be, for your poetry, right?”

You hum. “I might still do Chemistry.”

“Chemis- absolutely not!” Her eyes fly open, and you make a noise of protest.

“I’m not done!”

“You are not doing Chemistry.” May says, a comic picture with one eye bordered by soft pastel tones, the other bare of colour, while she looks at you sternly. “You don’t enjoy it!”

“But I could get a job at the end,” you reason.

May snorts, eyes closing gently, chin peaking out to let you get back into it as though she’s already won the argument. “Job schmob,” she says. “When you’re in New York, you can find a rich man to worry about that.” You frown, and like she senses it, the eye you’re not working on opens again. “Or find a rich man for me. He has to be really rolling in it though, so he can look after us both.”

You hear Eddie’s voice in your ear like he’s in the room with you. Just wait, I’ll look after you.

“Think you can do that?” May asks. “Keep an eye out for me, when you’re making all your arty, interesting friends in New York?”

You swallow, tuning back into the conversation. “I don’t think really want me to find you a man.”

“Mmph. The way my love life is going, I’ll need whatever help I can get.” She moves a little then, a slight tilt of her head that would be imperceptible to anyone but you, who's seen every degree of emotion on May’s face. You know she’s going to drop something serious before she even opens her mouth. “I saw Liam last week.”

You fight through the temptation to stop blending the eyeshadow on her lids, keeping your tone as even as possible. “Oh?”

“When I was in Indianapolis with the girls?” Those trips with the cheerleaders you avoid desperately. The thought of being stuck in a car with Caroline on the way there and back can make you break out in a cold sweat. “He was at one of the bars. He apologised, said he wanted to maybe go out again.”

“Mm.”

“Oh, don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything-”

“That was your judgy mmmh,” she says, batting your hand away from her face to look at you straight. “Last time I heard it was when I showed you that top I bought last month.”

Despite yourself, you crack at the memory of the flouncy pink thing she’d shown you with an awkward, self-aware smile. You’d been working out how to gently tell her to burn it when she’d figured out the tone of your hum and thrown it off in front of you with a whispered, “what was I thinking?”

Now, your tilted lips turn down at May’s solemn expression, her eyes shiny.

You shuffle closer, tucking the blanket around the both of you gently, cocooning your legs in together. “He hurt you, last time. Used you.”

She chews her lip. “That’s what boys do.”

“May-”

“I know you think what happened with Andy was bad, but you’ll learn, that’s just how they are. They need a little more forgiveness than girls, and some of them are worth it.”

You feel the beginning of the argument she might not be quite past. “Andy didn’t really like me, May. He only wanted-”

“The same thing they all want. The only thing they all want.”

Your heart aches for her. “That’s not true.”

“You think it’s not true right now, but when you hold out on Munson the way you did with Andy, you’ll see that it is.”

You fiddle with your fingers then, wondering if you should tell her. The guilt of not sharing that you’d started seeing Eddie prickles along the back of your neck. Your knee starts to bounce, and May blinks at you, just as attune to the meaning of your expressions. “Well, with Eddie-”

“Please, please, tell me you haven’t fucked Eddie Munson.”

“No. I mean, not yet but,” you begin, fiddling with your skirt. “Like, we’ve done, y’know, other stuff.” You glance at her shocked face, worry rising. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Why would I tell anyone something that would literally ruin what’s little is left of your reputation? You wouldn’t let Andy do anything but you’ve been seeing the freak for a few weeks and you’re, what, sitting in his dirty van giving him hand jobs?”

“Oh my god, May!”

“What? What am I supposed to think?”

You shake your head, tense your hands in your clothes. “It’s not like that with Eddie.” Your mind is awash with shiny brown eyes, soft pink cheeks, Eddie’s voice tickling your neck. “I don’t worry about anything, with him. It’s fun.”

“It’s fun.”

“It’s like, I thought sex was something a boy would do to me, something I’d have to let him do. With Andy, it was like if he took me on dates, it was what he would get in return,” you say, fiddling with the blanket. “But with Eddie it’s like,” you hum, hating how awkward this all sounds, so unused to talking about sex yourself, so used to hearing it from other, experienced, confident people. “We go on dates together, and talk together. And then with the, y’know, sexual stuff, we’re doing it…together.”

“But not really doing it, right?”

“No. But my point is,” you continue, grabbing her hand, clasping it in both of yours. “I know I don’t really know anything about boys, and I know you’re not Eddie’s biggest fan. But even though it’s not been long, I think he’s proof that, maybe, sometimes, boys aren’t what either of us thought. And if you really like Liam, then maybe he deserves your forgiveness. But I really, really don’t think he does if he hasn’t made you think twice about what all boys want. And maybe if you found somebody like Eddie-” She makes a face, but you ignore it. “I mean, somebody who doesn’t ask you to forgive them all the time. I think that would be better.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, I don’t want an Eddie.” You press your lips together, listen to her sigh. “But you’re also…probably, maybe right about Liam.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, May. I mean, to apologise when you happened to be at the same bar! If he was really sorry, he should have come to see you with flowers and everything. He probably just saw you, all pretty, and realised what a dunce he’d been.”

She smiles a little at the vitriol in your voice, usually so soft and quiet. “I missed you.”

You almost flinch. “I’ve been here.”

“You stopped sitting with me at lunch.”

“I…” You close your mouth, shrug instead.

“I know it’s partly my fault. I was angry, so I stopped defending you. But then, I mean, you just gave up.”

“I just- Some of the cheer girls are so intimidating, I never know what to say to them.”

“But you don’t try.” Your heart is sore, the guilt of knowing you’ve made life a little more difficult for her. “Listen, if you want to date Eddie Munson, I can be okay with that. I am okay with that.” She nods, seemingly trying to convince herself. “But will you just try, a little more, with the cheer girls? You don’t have to defend your relationship all the time, but maybe just try talking to them about something else? You could come on our next trip!”

Your toes curl at the thought. “I don’t know.”

“Please? We can’t let a boy come between us.” You wonder what she’d say if she knew how hard Eddie seems to try not to come between you. “I like Heather, even though she abandoned us. And I like the cheer girls. But I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, May. It won’t change.”

“So you’ll try?”

You chew the inside of your lip, give her a little nod that has her breaking out into a smile. “Okay. Okay, great.”

You try not to think about exactly what you’ve just compromised on while you finish her make up. May sits, silent and smiling while you sweep dark eyeliner across her lids, brush mascara over her long lashes.

“There, all done.” You love this bit. May turns to the floor length mirror beside you and grins at her reflection, her pretty eyes bordered by soft pastels from your new palette. It sends a warmth through you that you’d never admit to. Knowing you’re good at this, that even the cheer girls who think you’re weird admire the way you’ll do their make up at competitions. “It’s cool, right?”

“I love it,” she breathes, shifting closer to the mirror enough that the warm throw pulls from the tops of your legs, leaving your thighs chilly. “Just one last question. You’re not gonna play that Satanist game, right?”

Your brain short circuits, having thought you’d just agreed that you wouldn’t have to explain yourself. “Um, It’s really not what you think.”

The scene plays out in your mind. Eddie, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, letting you tilt your hips to rub yourself over his thigh, suddenly pulled away from you with a gasp. He’d thrown himself from the bed dramatically, holding his open jeans up by the waistband. You’d watched him, breathless and warm, while he scrambled for a pen before writing in his D&D notebook and looking up at you in excitement. “I just thought of a really cool way to lure them into this whole cave thing I’ve been planning. Shit. They’re so fucked.” Before you could consider being offended that that’s what he’d been thinking about while kissing you, your legs were over his shoulders, his lips were smiling at your thigh.

You can’t help your fond laugh. “Eddie’s such a dork about it. Last week-” You pause at her expression, realising that May probably doesn’t want to hear that story. You clear your throat. “They just pretend to be fantasy characters.” Witches over a cauldron, Princesses sharing a Kingdom. “Like we used to do, sorta.”

“Yeah, when we were kids.”

You have to swallow the lump that brings up to your throat. To hear her dismissal of the time you’ve been daydreaming about since you walked through her front door. “It’s not Satanist.”

“But you’re still not going to play it, right?”

“No,” you say, feeling cold. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it, anyway.”

She watches you for a second, but says nothing before grabbing the eyeshadow palette from the floor beside you. “Let me try, then. Get you all glammed up for making s’mores later.”

You smile with closed lips, let your eyes fall shut. You have to ignore the pang in your heart, the reminder that some things are entirely different from when you were seven.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

“You know, I kinda thought there’d be more trembling.” Eddie’s breath tickles your ear as he whispers, again when he blows cool air on your neck just to see you wriggle a little while you look up at him, wide eyed. His pale face is illuminated only by the screen at the front of the room, but you can still see the mischief in his eyes, in the barely there turn of his smile. “I was told that taking a pretty girl to a scary movie would have you grabbing my thigh in pure terror. That you’d need me to comfort you with my masculinity.”

You just about fight off the laugh, still glad that you are sequestered together in the back row when a soft amused noise escapes your throat. On screen, the newly transformed and aptly named Evil Ed laughs maniacally. The special effects and practical make up are impressive, but the whole thing has enough of a teen movie vibe that you’ve been about as scared as you were watching Kevin Bacon stuck on a tractor yesterday.

“You and your masculinity should have picked a scarier movie.” You feel the flutter of nerves that accompanies teasing Eddie back, still always a little worried that it will come out wrong. The answer of Eddie stifling his laughter, eyes crinkling at the sides, has the butterflies scattering.

“Noted,” Eddie whispers, cheeks dimpled. It strikes you how close he is now, his breath spreading over your cheeks. He leans down more, his nose at your temple, his lips pressing soft to the skin beside your eye. You shut both, breath shaking as Eddie’s mouth leaves a handful of kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. There, he feels you twitch, and his eyes open to find you tense in your seat, fingers curled in your sleeves.

You are fighting the urge to turn and check the rest of the row, the whole room, to make sure nobody is watching. The image of an attendant appearing with a flashlight taunts you, the thought of being escorted out of the theatre in shame. You open your mouth, trying to work out what to say, but Eddie just smiles at you. His hand finds yours, fingers tangling together in a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” he whispers, licking his lips quickly. “M’sorry, baby.”

You watch him lean back in his seat, face set in contentment to be sitting with you and feeling your palm against his. You’d been worried for a second there, that he might be angry with you, or that you might have to explain your worries until he understood. But it’s Eddie.

You stare at his profile, the soft curls the brush his face, his pouty lips, and find you really, really want to kiss him, here and now. Eddie’s your boyfriend, you remind yourself with a shiver of happiness. Teenage girls have been kissing their boyfriends in the backs of movie theatres since the projector was invented, so why, why, shouldn’t you kiss yours?

You rub at the sleeve of your cardigan with your free hand, letting yourself have the comfort of looking around you quickly to make sure there really isn’t anyone else in this row, or even the one in front. With your eyes closed tight, you remind yourself that the boy who ripped your tickets looked about fifteen, not quite dedicated enough to this job to search the rows looking for kissing teenagers with an invasive flashlight.

Pressing your knees together, you cuddle into Eddie’s side, smell his two-in-one shampoo and his aftershave and his skin. You press a kiss to his cheek, feel a little scratch of early stubble against your lips. His head turns, eyes scanning over your face. “We don’t have to, sweet thing.”

“I know.” You nod, tilting your chin up in petition. “Please?”

Eddie watches you for a second, giving you time to back out before he leans down to press his lips to yours. It’s a chaste thing; so quick that he has your mouth following him when he pulls away to make sure you’re still happy to kiss him here. Eddie breathes a soft laugh that has your stomach twisting, then his hand is covering your cheek. You feel his breath, your eyes close, and he’s kissing you.

Eddie’s mouth is warm, but it tastes like blue raspberry slushy; sweet and sharp. At the first lick of his tongue against your lips, you feel a soft noise wanting to escape your throat, but it’s beaten back swiftly by the remaining fear that has your heart racing even as Eddie’s thumb smooths a gentle caress over your cheek. Underneath that is a new giddiness. The feeling that you’ve pushed past something, overcome a fear, however small. And to be doing this, making out with your boyfriend at the back of a movie theatre, like other girls have done.

Your arms find his shoulders, hands clasped together behind him, and Eddie smiles to your lips, just barely pulls away. His thumb stretches to rub your swollen bottom lip. “My brave girl.”

You shiver when he kisses you again, your toes curling in your sneakers. You think you could live on Eddie’s praise. Every pretty girl, smart girl, good girl he gives feels like it’s designed to leave you wanting to crawl onto his thighs, or else sit between them. Eddie’s mouth, intent on yours, wet enough that it feels like the start of something he definitely won’t finish in the back row of screen three, has you remembering how free he can be with his praise when your mouth is on him.

You weren’t expecting to like it so much, but thinking about the weight and taste of him in your mouth makes you squirm as much as the thought of his own tongue where you are most sensitive. You’ve enjoyed it every time since the first moment you spent looking up at him from between his thighs. Watching Eddie fight to keep his eyes on you, mess his own hair up when he forces himself not to take yours in his fist and push you down. His voice, desperate and breathy, coaxing you to try and take him just a little deeper, sweet thing. The quick hot flash of degradation when he taps his cock against your cheek or your tongue before pressing inside.

There is even something pleasant about the lasting ache in your jaw afterwards. The feeling that you’re willing and wanting to do something that hurts to make Eddie feel good is a sick satisfaction you're not yet used to.

Cinema speakers fill the room with a swelling, dramatic soundtrack. A girl screams, a monster cries out in pain, no doubt making everyone else in the room jump in terror and shake with anticipation for how the whole thing will end. You can hear it, but only just, so firmly in the world of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie.

Eddie has the beats of the movie memorised already, pulling away from you with a soft gasp just as the opening notes of the music over the end credits begin, a little line of spit connecting your lips until Eddie makes one last move to lick it away.

The lights come up seconds later, the first groups of people standing to leave. They walk past you and Eddie, both breathless and dishevelled, without a second glance. Under the new lighting, Eddie’s cheeks are now clearly pink. It warms you from the inside out to know that you did that.

You feel the need to be close to Eddie as you leave, grasping onto his hand with both of yours when your jackets are on and he’s guiding you from the theatre. “How’d you like the movie?” He asks in the parking lot, dimples deep in his cheeks.

You hide your face in his arm, feeling that strange new embarrassment crawling up your spine. You mumble into the leather of his sleeve. “I hope nobody asks me how it ends.”

“Yeah, hadn’t thought about that.” Eddie opens the door to his van, holding your hand to help you up until you’re settled in the front seat. He leans in through the door with wide eyes. “Hey, maybe we could see it again next weekend?”

You chew the inside of your lip. “Would I really see the end if we did?”

His head falls forward, hair following in a wave. When his head tilts back up, one of his eyes is closed. “You figured me out that easy, huh?”

You smile at each other, Eddie looking over your face as you look over his. His big eyes, dark eyelashes, light freckles, sweet nose, plush pink lips. You’ve never seen another boy you could so comfortably describe as pretty.

You think he might walk round to his side, but instead you feel Eddie’s palm, warm at your knee. “So, uh, the thing is,” he rubs a circle with his thumb at the bottom of your thigh. “It’s Wayne’s day off, and most likely if we go to my place he’ll be in the living room watching MacGyver.”

“Oh.”

You feel guilty for being disappointed. Wayne is always polite, never breathes a word of complaint at the fact you seem to be in his home most days. The only inkling of irritation you get is never at you or Eddie. Instead, there is something in the way he drags himself from the trailer every evening, ready to stay up all night at the factory. When you’d asked where he slept, realising that the only bedroom in the trailer was the one decked out with posters and amps, Eddie had shown you the fold out bed in the living room with a close lipped smile.

He is, more than anyone, due a day off. But you were gearing yourself up for being in Eddie’s bed tonight, trying to prepare the least awkward way of asking him.

“And I’m happy to just hang out with you, sweet thing, you know that.” His hand squeezes, even the metal of his rings warm from his skin. “So we can go back to mine and watch MacGyver with the old man, or I could try to teach you some guitar again?”

That’s tempting, certainly. You doubt sitting between Eddie’s legs with his arms around you, guiding your hands over his acoustic guitar was the most effective teaching method, but you certainly preferred it to any alternative.

“But if you wanted,” Eddie continues. “Only if you wanted, I could maybe drive us to the quarry or something?” Eddie blinks, tucks some of his hair behind his ear with his free hand. “It’s, uh, quiet.”

Your heart beats a little faster, you can hear the sudden rush of it in your ears. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, in that sweet way of his, wanting to make sure you’re not just acquiescing to everything he suggests.

“Sounds good, I mean.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Belt on, sweet thing.” He gives your knee one last squeeze while you pull the belt over your front, then pushes away from the frame of the door. He taps a quick rhythm under the window when it’s closed, grins at you through the glass. You watch him jog round to the other side, hair flying out behind him, and wonder if every single thing he does will make you want him more.

You sit in companionable silence while Eddie drives, feeling that soft comfort you only get with a few people, knowing that he’s not waiting for you to speak. You look out the window, watch the shops and gas stations disperse into houses which in turn give way to trees. All of them appear more as streaks of colour than clear pictures with the way Eddie drives, like he’s being judged on time.

“Hey, can I play you something?”

You turn from the window, taking a second to fully register the question before you hum a positive noise. Eddie’s right hand reaches out to turn on the stereo, the sudden attack to your ears of wailing guitar making you jump until he turns it down all the way with a sheepish smile, a murmured, “sorry.”

You watch Eddie’s hand, pale and lithe, as he skips through tracks. The metal chain that adorns his wrist is twisted a little at the leather clasp, and you reach to straighten it out with your thumb and first finger. When he’s found the right track, he turns it back up a touch, wiggles his fingers until you grab his hand. An urgent rhythm fills the van, the tell-tale guitars of all Eddie’s music, and he sighs, leaning back into his seat with a grin.

“Hear the rime of the ancient mariner, see his eye as he stops one of three, mesmerises one of the wedding guests. Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.”

Something clicks.

“Oh, that’s a Coleridge poem!” You lean forward to turn it up further with your free hand, trying to concentrate on the words. It tells the whole story from the lyrical poem you’ve had a copy of since you took an interest in the romantics when you were fifteen; a mariner who kills an albatross and is blamed for the resulting misfortune by everyone on his ship.

“I knew you’d know it. My smart girl.” Eddie is the picture of pride, eyes crinkled at the sides. “I was reading a Steve Harris interview - he, uh, writes most of Iron Maiden’s songs? And he mentioned the reference and I just thought, you know, you might think it was cool.”

“I do.” You picture Eddie, soft and comfy in his bed, flicking through a magazine. You imagine him reading about his favourite thing, and a spark lighting in his head relating to you. Something that made him excited to share it with you. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything, but his cheeks are blooming with pink. You can’t say anything else, for fear of blurting out every thought running through your head.

You listen in silence, trying to decide how you want to ask him. Every way to say it feels awkward and wrong. Fuck me, take me, have sex with me. You picture asking Eddie to make love and feel a mix of yearning and nausea. By the time you reach the quarry, you have been playing with the ring on Eddie’s right hand, feeling the smooth stone, twisting it round his finger, for a good five minutes.

Eddie steals his hand from you while he parks by the trees opposite the quarry, pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing them on the dashboard before reaching out to let you take hold of his hand again. The easy quiet is gone. You can feel him waiting for you to speak. Your mind screams at you to remain silent, hating the thought that you might risk humiliation with Eddie.

“Will you look at me, baby?” Eddie pulls your hands from between you. You follow it with your gaze, watch him press a kiss to your knuckles before you meet his eyes. "I really didn't mean to, you know, imply anything by bringing you here."

You shake your head emphatically. “I know. You’d never.”

Eddie breathes a little sigh from his nose, looking relieved. You think he has to be the sweetest boy ever born, and then you can’t help yourself. Eddie makes a soft happy noise when you bring your face to his, lets you kiss his soft bottom lip. He licks softly at yours, so you open your mouth to let him in, holding back a whine and reaching up to play with the collar of his denim vest; the material rough and familiar in your fingers.

Eddie pulls from you, licks his lips, and breathes, "I can't get enough of that."

"Mm?"

"The way you grab at me when you get a little shy."

Your eyes widen, processing the reminder that your silly little habits are not as inconspicuous as you might wish to believe. Of course Eddie has noticed the way you fiddle with his hands, his rings, his hair, his clothes, the second you feel an uptick in the pace of your heart. But then, Eddie just said he likes it.

"S'not annoying?"

“Not for me! They call me Eddie the stress toy, you know. People used to come for miles around to give me a squeeze."

You laugh at his attempt at an earnest face. "Used to?"

"Yeah, well, you got exclusive rights, these days." Eddie says, tilting his head with a touch of endearing shyness. “What kinda idiot would I have to be, not to like my girl touching me all over?”

You want him, want him, want him.

You press your heated face to his shoulder, still playing with the frayed denim of his collar while you mumble into the vest. “Eddie?” You feel the vibration of his answering hum against your cheek. “I want-” You shake your head, as if you could bury yourself into his clothes. “Can we-” You turn your face, looking at the seat behind, all the space there.

Eddie strokes at your waist. “You wanna, uh, get in the back?”

At your quick nod, Eddie clasps your cheek with his warm hand. He tilts your head, kisses you soundly. “Stay right there.”

Eddie jumps from the van, legs swinging, and jogs round to your side to open the door for you. “Princess,” he says, offering you his hand with a flourish. You giggle, jumping down towards him and letting him lead you round to the back of his van like a gentleman. Still keeping up the routine, he opens the back door and gestures with a bow before helping you up.

The back is a scene of amps and wires, a bass drum with CORRODED COFFIN scrawled over the skin. Luckily there is space enough for the two of you, so you settle yourself in the middle, surrounded by enough little pieces of Eddie that the back of this van feels a little like home. When you look up, Eddie’s still outside, staring in at you.

You press your knees together, turn them to the side. “Eddie?”

“Yeah-” his voice breaks. He tries to hide it with a cough, clearing his throat and giving his chest a couple taps with the side of his fist. “Yeah,” he repeats, deeper now, as he climbs up after you. When the doors are closed, Eddie shuffles towards you, half squatting. “So, you’re happy with the carriage, Princess?” You nod, throat tight when Eddie kneels down in front of you. “That’s good.” Something in his face changes, a spark of excitement in his dark eyes. “You wanna lay back for me?”

The space between your legs pulses. “Mm.”

“Here,” he says, pulling off his jacket and rolling it up into a makeshift pillow. You lean back and he leans in to place it below your head, face above yours while you settle into the soft leather. His hair tickles your cheeks until he tucks it back, staring down at you. Your heart, your body, screams at you, ask him, ask him, ask him. Eddie kisses your neck quickly, shakes his head like he’s emptying out a thought. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this dream.”

Again, ask him, ask him, ask him.

“Eddie,” you start, mind caught between the worry of how this will go and giving in to the gentle fuzziness of Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your waist. You swallow, look to his eyes, then his forehead. “Will you-” The words catch, leaving you with a warm face and eyes squeezed closed in embarrassment.

Eddie hums, gifts your cheeks his lips. His nose brushes the side of your face, and he murmurs. “Anything you want, pretty. Let me hear it, mm? ”

It’s Eddie, you tell yourself. From the first time you spoke to him, he’s never judged you for anything. He won’t judge you now. It’s Eddie, you repeat in your head. My Eddie.

“I’ve never, um-” Your toes curl at the clear nerves in your voice, the beating of your heart that you swear he must be able to hear. “Nobody’s ever- Mmh.”

“It’s just me,” Eddie says, thumb at your cheek. “It’s only me, sweet girl. Wanna know what you’re thinking.”

“I think,” you sigh, let some of the nerves out with it. “I think you’re beautiful, Eddie.” He blinks, surprised, but gives you a sweet smile when you touch gently at his pink cheek, feel the beginning of bristle under your finger. “And I want you. I mean, I want you to be first.” And second, and third, and every time after.

You stare at each other, breath heavy in your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine until he blinks it away. “Come- come here,” Even though he says it, he’s the one to lean down to you, giving you a chaste kiss that turns desperate when you reach up to play with his curls.

Your head swims, relief and anticipation swirling together. A quiet moan escapes you when Eddie’s mouth moves to your jaw, down your neck. “Do you, um, have, like, protection?”

Eddie freezes. His face comes into view, brows furrowed. “Wait. You want me to fuck you right now?”

Oh. You hear the rush of blood in your ears, a ringing noise. You pull your hands from his hair, fingers curling, hands tucked to your chest. You suddenly wish he wasn’t on top of you, wish you could hide your face from him. Your head starts working overtime, supplying all the things he’s no doubt thinking about you now. You think of Erin, writing on the bathroom wall. Slut. Desperate. Whore.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. Eddie presses his pointer finger to your temple, gives it a playful rub. “Are you doing that thing you said you do? Lying there convincing yourself you’ve fucked something up?”

A little part of you resents that he nailed it down so quickly, but you nod, blinking away the first bubbling tears, staring at the collar of his Metallica shirt rather than his face. “I just thought you’d want to.”

Eddie makes a soft noise at the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He pushes himself up from the floor of the van, grabs your hand to pull you with him. You end up curled at his side, knees just resting on the side of his thigh, his arm tucked around your shoulder as he leans you both against the back of the seats. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fidgety even as Eddie is rubbing at your shoulder softly.

“Course I want to,” he says, leaning into you. “I wanted you on that picnic table. I want you all the time.”

That soothes you a little, enough that your right hand peeks out from your sleeve to play with the hem of his shirt. But your sensitive heart still throbs, tentative and sore. “So, why…?”

“I- Shit. Give me a minute.” Eddie hugs you tight for a second, then shuffles across the floor of the van, practically launching himself out of the back doors with a practised ease that makes you smile despite yourself. You can’t see him from here, but you hear him outside, the passenger door opening and closing behind you. When he returns, he’s got that metal lunch box he carries around with him. A different kind of confusion blooms when he sits next to you and opens it, rummaging through the little plastic bags of illicit substances. He pulls out a wad of rolled bills, a little chunkier than when you’d bought weed from him in the woods that first day.

“Wanna know what this is for?” Eddie asks, looking unusually serious when you glance at him. He opens his mouth then closes it again, eyes fixing on where he is thumbing at the band holding the bills together. “I thought you might ask me, eventually. Hoped you would, at least.” He breathes a laugh, pings the elastic. “So I’ve been saving up, you know?”

“Saving up?”

Eddie nods, turns his wide gaze to you with a tilted head. “Wanted to take you somewhere nice. Buy you dinner, something other than a burger or a pizza slice. Get a room at a hotel, with a big comfy bed. Thought I could show you-” He twitches, eyes flickering away from your face and back again. He swallows, shrugs. “S’like I said. I wanna deserve you.”

Your tense shoulders slump. Your chest aches. “Eddie,” you whisper, shaking your head. Trying again to blink away tears, you grab the roll of dollars from him, throw it back into that dumb obvious lunchbox. You climb up into his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your wet eyes meet his. “You don’t have to prove anything. You deserve-” Me, whatever you want, everything. Your fingers twitch. You close your eyes tight, ashamed you can’t look at him when you say it. “I think, all the time, about how much I wish I knew you earlier. It’s like, before, I just spent the whole time missing you.” You find it in you to look at him then, gaze at his pretty face; pink, lightly freckled, shiny under his eyes. “I want you, Eddie. I want to be with you wherever you are.”

You stare at each other, listening to the steady rhythm of your breaths until they move in sequence, chests expanding and contracting together. You get that same feeling you got when Eddie held your hand after touching you for the first time, how he listened when you told him about how you blow out of proportion in your head, the way he was angry for you when you recounted how Andy treated you. When Eddie told you that he couldn’t understand you liking him, that people have held him at arm's length for being too much, that he refuses to give up on school, believes wholeheartedly in his dreams. One moment at a time, you are peeling back layers, exposing soft tissue. You are offering each other all your hidden parts, whispering, please look after this with every squeezed hand and kissed cheek.

Eddie sniffs, wipes his eyes. Seeing his shaky smile, hearing his wet laugh, is better than any soft bed in any hotel.

“That’s good, cause, uh, I really hadn’t saved that much.” You giggle together through lumped throats. “At the rate I was going, you were gonna be waiting till you were forty-five.” You shake your head at him fondly, reaching up to play with the feathers of hair that brush the side of his face. Eddie pulls you in closer, ducks his chin. “But I still can’t take your virginity in the back of my van, sweet thing,” he says. “It just wouldn’t be right. You should be in a bed, at least. And if you’re happy for it to be mine? I’ll just make sure my sheets are washed.”

You rub the soft ends of his hair between your fingers. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” His hand comes to your cheek, helping you look at him. He must be able to feel the warmth of your face in his hand, but you lean into his palm anyway. When Eddie kisses you, it’s a gentle thing, a promise.

When his tongue peeks out to lick into your mouth, it’s a request you’re happy to fulfil. Eddie groans at the taste of you, the sound of it registering across your whole body. Your hips roll subtly, and you feel the quirk of his lips.

Eddie sighs into your mouth. “My pretty girl wants me to fuck her in my bed, mm?”

The increasingly familiar zing of pleasurable shame zips up your spine. The air around you shifts, crackling like the split second of awareness before an electric shock. “Yeah, Eddie.”

“But you need to be touched right now. So desperate,” he murmurs, the word that had mocked you minutes ago, now a warm tease. “So desperate you wanted to take my cock for the first time right here. In my van, parked by the side of the road.”

You shake your head, because you’re not really at the side of the road. Eddie was right when he said it’s quiet; nobody comes here. You’re about as likely to be found by the quarry as you are in his room. Eddie’s eyes light up with dark amusement, his hand drifting to the back of your neck. The pressure of his fingers there makes your hips twitch, your body recognising the signs, the promise of what’s to come when Eddie’s palm starts holding your head up.

“No?” He asks, tilting his head, a teasing pout finding his pink lips. “You sayin’ I didn’t hear your right?”

Your toes curl. “No.”

The lines that run from the sides of Eddie’s nose to the corners of his lips deepen. “No, I did hear you right?”

“Eddie,”

“Ahh, yeah,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you lie back. He reaches out for his jacket, still rolled up on the floor, and places it back under your head. “That’s the good stuff.” You open your legs for him, let him settle his body on top of you, feeling the hardening length of him through denim and cotton at the apex of your thighs. Eddie licks his lips, tucks his hair back with a breathy laugh. “Shit. You got me thinking about it, now.”

Eddie sinks his face to your neck, the warm sting of his tongue making the mess between your legs increasingly hard to ignore. His big hand pulls at the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to your tummy. He glances down your body, eyes closing tight at the pale blue cotton cupping your mound, dark and sticky where it’s soaked up your wetness. “Wanna feel your little pussy on my cock so fucking bad. I can’t tell you how-” He cuts off a groan at the first run of his fingers over the wet material. “Christ. How many times I’ve thought about it.”

You blink at him slowly, mind drifting into the calm of knowing Eddie’s going to make sure you both feel good. Your hips tilt naturally, helping him rub the curve of his finger over your clit through soaked cotton, then wiggling to help him more when his fingers hook into the elastic to pull them down your legs. Once they’re past your sneakers, he holds them in his hand for a second, rubbing his thumb along their centre. When you tilt your hips, pussy barely catching the rough denim over his crotch, his nostrils flare. “Don’t distract me, I’m holding precious cargo.”

He seems to settle on where to put them, draping the cotton over the top of one of the amps rather than letting them touch the floor. You giggle at his careful consideration, and Eddie’s dimples press into flushed cheeks.

“You thought about it?” Eddie asks, watching your face when his thumb sweeps over your clit, noting the sensitivity before he starts up with tight circles that have you keening. “Thought about me inside you?”

He has to feel the new wetness between your legs that comes with your desperate nod. In truth, you’ve thought about it almost endlessly. You know it can hurt, have heard enough stories of virginity loss from the girls at the cheer table to know that it probably will. But when you imagine being close to Eddie that way, the only thing you can conjure up is the feeling of his fingers inside, how much further you’d have to stretch to take Eddie’s cock, the one that makes your jaw ache. Maybe the prospect should give you pause, but thinking about how Eddie would guide you through it sends excited shivers down your spine.

“Yes, Eddie.”

“You wanna feel my cock now?” He breathes, watching confusion flicker over your blissed face. “Know you like riding your pillow, sweet thing,” he says, your face hot at the memory of telling him how you masturbate. “But I think you might like rubbing up on me a little better.”

Your clit twitches. You clench inside. Eddie either feels or sees the reaction of your body because he’s humming in excitement the next second, leaning down to kiss you, press his tongue to yours until you’re groaning into his mouth. He looks a little manic when he pulls away, hands scrambling with his belt when he throws himself to the side, lying on his back, ready for you to climb up on him.

Without thinking, your hands catch his, stopping him from pulling at the loop. You squeeze his palms. “Let me?”

In answer, he moves his hands from his jeans, letting them rest flat across his stomach. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to sit on his thigh and grind against the denim just to get some instant relief. You reach out to the side of his head, grab his jacket and slide it to the back of his head. Eddie tilts his head up, lets you position it just so. You check, “comfy?” and he nods.

Satisfied, you return to Eddie’s belt. The action of pulling at the leather is excitingly familiar to you now. The button of his jeans comes next, then his zip humming as you pull it down. His boxers are a soft check, the waistband positioned just under the first tufts of dark hair that lead to where Eddie is filling out the material. You think about his hands teasing your clit through your panties, mimicking him by brushing a knuckle over the mound peeking out from his zipper. It’s enough to make Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his fingers twitch.

You hook your fingers into the elastic, start pulling them down. Eddie sighs in relief when his cock meets the air, hard enough to rise from his underwear the second he’s free. You imagine the stretch of him again, and clench down on emptiness. Eddie’s cock is a pretty pink all over. The furled skin at the top is a little shiny, and you know if you grasped his cock and pulled that skin back, his head would be wet with excitement.

The thought strikes to just lean down and take him in your mouth, surprised to find that that’s already something of a comfort zone for you. But your clit throbs like it’s protesting, so you shuffle on your knees, feeling the sticky spread of your cunt when you open your legs to bracket his hips. You reach down, let yourself stroke Eddie’s cock just to hear the soft noise it draws out from his throat. You rub your thumb over that sensitive spot below his head, press his cock down until his length rests over the hair above it and the bottom of his soft tummy.

With your free hand, you drift your hand between your legs, letting your fingers drift over your clit. You make a V with your fingers at the top, splitting your cunt open for him and feel a bone deep certainty that Eddie is the only person who could watch you doing this without real shame casting its shadow.

“C’mon,” Eddie says, getting impatient. “Sit on it, use my cock how you want, just let me feel you.”

Nodding, body instinctively wanting to follow his direction, you settle yourself on his cock. Eddie groans at the warm slick that surrounds him, hands immediately moving to your hips to help guide you. Your entrance flexes at the base of him, and he tries to pull you straight down like he could find more space between your lips for his girth. “Jesus Chri-”

Eddie’s words cut off with a choke when you glide yourself forward, hearing your wetness spread along his dick. You whine at the feeling, Eddie’s cock stimulating not just your twitchy button but your soft, clenching hole. Shifting back, your legs twitch when his head, exposed as the surrounding skin is pulled back by the clasp of your lips, catches just right against your clit. A few more blissful drags, and you are whining, hands flat against Eddie’s chest, fingers pulling at the softness of his shirt.

You wiggle your hips, close to hysteria at how good it feels to have Eddie this close. Eddie grins up at you, the pride on his face making you all the more desperate. He looks overwhelmingly pretty like this, hair fanned out across his jacket, lips wet and swollen from his constant licking and your own kisses. His neck, as blushed as his face and his cock, is exposed and tense. His dark eyelashes that flutter every time his head drags over your clit and emerges from between your lips. His eyes, dark in the centre where his pupils have swallowed up mahogany, flicker back and forth between your face and where his cock vanishes and appears again, enveloped and released by the wet split of your pussy.

“You feel me now, mm?” He says, sounding hurried like he’s trying to get it out before his voice is swallowed up by groans. “Haven’t even taken three of my fingers, but you thought you could just lie back and take my cock?” You bounce a little when his head flicks your clit this time, torturing the swollen button with him a little longer. “Couldn’t’ve done it right, not how my desperate girl needs it. Just wanna make you feel good, you know?”

“Feels good,” you murmur, wiggling your hips to feel his cock flex and shift over all the tender skin where you are most sensitive. “You always feel so good, Eddie.”

“Yeah? That’s it, that’s it.” Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips, no doubt leaving you with marks that will be satisfyingly tender by morning. “Fuck. Fuck, baby, I love you-r pretty voice.” He swallows, eyes now fixed on your pleasured face. “Love when you talk to me.”

“Eddie, m’gonna-” You start to shake, and his hands grab at your hips, helping you keep moving along him even as the stimulation edges towards painful.

“That’s it, cum on me. Let me feel it.”

Your body spasms, letting yourself move only with Eddie’s pushing and pulling as the throb of your clit spreads through your body, sends tingles up your spine. You feel your clit numb for a second, know enough now about your own body what that means for the intensity of your orgasm. You sit on that precipice, gasping in air.

Pleasure bursts, has you shaking and moaning and, unbeknownst to you, repeating, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” while the boy beneath you chases his own high, wanting to finish before you’re too oversensitive to keep your perfect warm pussy on him.

Bending his knees, he grinds up into you, helping you slide along him. When he pulls your hips just so, and the tip of him barely catches the soft entrance of your cunt, Eddie finally cries out beneath you. The almost violent twitch of his cock between your legs makes you squirm, picturing that happening inside you. Eddie’s cum, thick and white, lands across his stomach in droplets, the last rope clinging to the tip of his cock in a way that, shamefully, makes your mouth water.

Sensitive, twitching, you rise from his body. Your shaking thighs fail you almost immediately, and you fall back on your butt between his open legs, a hand coming to cover your stimulated pussy like it needs protection. Eddie sits up, wipes his own hand across his stomach and draws his cum into his mouth with an ease that might surprise you if you hadn’t seen Eddie casually taste his own cum just about every time he’s orgasmed in front of you.

This is what you meant, when you told May that being with Eddie is fun. Sex has always been something with disclaimers attached. Something to be enjoyed, but not too much. Something to get lost in, but not enough that you cross the line into acting slutty. It seemed to you like a tightrope nobody had shown you how to walk.

And then there’s Eddie, who just watched you cum so hard on top of him that you immediately fell on your ass, and he’s grinning at you like he’s never been so proud of anyone in his life. “Now tell me that wasn’t way better than your pillow.” He reaches out for you, and you let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest. You watch, warm in your face, while he tucks his softening cock, still covered in you, back into his boxers. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, tracing the blue lines of lightning on his shirt with your finger. Your thighs twitch again, and you laugh together, soft and breathless. You settle into that post high afterglow, letting yourself be comforted by how surrounded by Eddie you are. His arm around you, his chest under your head. You can hear the way his heartbeat shifts from an intense rhythm to a steady beat under your ear. There’s another sudden uptick just before he speaks.

“I was missing you, too.”

You shift, look up at him from his chest, find him staring at the ceiling.

“Sometimes my life has felt like being dealt one bad hand after another.” His gaze shifts then, eyes finding yours. “Now, I think, maybe I was saving up for something really good without realising.”

Eddie Munson; town freak, rumoured Satanist, bad news for sweet girls like you, on the floor of his van, arms wrapped tight around you, says; “You’re a lifetime of good luck, sweetheart.”

And then you know.

Next Part

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #tmyg

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