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#'hope...it is the only thing stronger than fear'
agir1ukn0w · 5 months
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sorry but snow is such a well written iconic villain and donald sutherland performs him so fucking good it's almost hilarious how i start practically foaming at the mouth every time the man opens his mouth to say something deplorable in those movies, like he's so utterly and despicably wrong about almost every crucial thing from katniss and peeta's relationship to human nature as a whole and yet the second he starts talking about how hope is the only thing stronger than fear and how you have to allow a little hope but control it so its spark doesn't grow into revolution and how it's the things we love the most that destroy us you bet your ass i am on the floor screaming crying throwing up because that is my psychotic mustache-twirling villain RIGHT THERE
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togrowoldinv · 9 months
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Castles Crumbling
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Trying to get through to Natasha can be a difficult task, but you’ll never give up on her.
Note: So this one is a lil sad, but I promise there’s hope laced in it as hope is always around if you just look for it. Yes, it’s a Taylor reference hehe. Enjoy this one!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
Things with Natasha were great. Until they weren’t.
You met the woman when you joined the team. It was one of your favorite days of your life. You had finally reached your goal of becoming an Avenger and there you were there amongst the heroes that you had so admired.
Natasha took to you surprisingly quickly. She hadn’t realized she was doing it, not really. She just felt comfortable around you. But everyone else, including you, noticed that she was drawn to you.
You were drawn to her too, so you spent a lot of time with her. You always trained with her and spent nights watching movies with her. Most nights you made hot chocolate and giggled over how many marshmallows you could eat.
Beginning to feel like your relationship with her was something more than a friendship, you took the chance and asked her out one night.
It was bold, you knew that, but you didn’t want to miss the chance at something real. And Natasha was as real as it got. Your hopes were shattered when Natasha said no and all but ran away from you.
It’s been two weeks of silence from the woman. You haven’t seen her at training or any other event. Honestly, you’re not even sure she is at the compound. Still, you make a cup of hot chocolate for her and march to her room.
You knock on the door. No answer.
“Natasha,” you try. Nothing. “I don’t even know if you’re in there, but if you are, will you please open the door? I miss you so much.”
You still hear nothing on the other side of the door. Sighing, you place the mug on the ground next to the door.
“I made you a hot chocolate. I’ll just leave it here,” you say into the door.
Taking a few steps away, your attention is drawn back to the door. It creaks open slightly, and you see her hand reach for the mug. To your surprise, the door doesn’t close immediately. You stand completely still in the hallway even though you’re sure Natasha knows you’re there.
“Y/n?” She calls out. You could cry at hearing her voice for the first time in weeks.
You walk towards her, and she simply gestures for you to enter her room. You do so easily, noticing the way her usually perfectly clean room is a mess. Clothes are everywhere, and papers on her desk are haphazardly stacked.
“I made it with extra chocolate,” you say, referring to the mug in her hand.
“Thank you,” she says. She means it. Nat takes a sip of the hot chocolate and places it on her nightstand.
You nod. You’re racking your brain for what to say next when Natasha speaks instead.
“You don’t want to know me,” Natasha says. “Not like this.”
“Natasha,” you try to stop her, but she continues.
“I’ll just let you down,” Natasha says. “Everyone who tries to love me just gets pushed away. It’s my fault.”
“Hey, don’t do that,” you say. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“But it’s true.”
“It’s not. I love you and I’m still standing here, aren’t I?” You ask her. Her lips almost quirk up at your confession, but she is too focused on how she will hurt you to truly smile.
“I shut you out for two weeks,” Nat says. “That doesn’t really scream that I am capable of-”
She stops herself short, opting to shake her head. Life is full of incomplete sentences, but you want to know what she was going to say. So, you push.
“That you’re not capable of what?”
“Y/n.”
“Tell me, Natasha. Because if you say what I think you’re going to say then you’re completely wrong.”
Natasha’s cheeks turn a rosy pink, a sure sign that she is keeping herself from crying. Her green eyes are a sea of sadness.
“I don’t know how I got this way,” Natasha says, her voice low. “I used to be so strong, and I was great at keeping myself uninvolved.”
“Was that strength or was that fear?” You pose the question.
“I don’t know,” Natasha admits. “Both.”
You dare take a step closer to Natasha. When she doesn’t step back, you reach out your hand to her. She hesitates, but eventually she lets her nimble fingers slip between yours. It’s electric, as it is every time you two touch.
“You know we don’t have to be anything, but friends. But at least can we be that?” You ask. “I miss you. I miss us.”
Natasha finally lets her teardrops fall. No one ever sees her like this.
“I’ve hurt so many people,” Natasha says through her tears. “I can’t hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you assure her. “And even if you did, it would be hurt that was one hundred percent worth it. I’d let you hurt me a million times over if it meant I got to love you and be loved by you.”
“I don’t- why would you let yourself be hurt by me?”
“Natasha, people hurt people. That’s what makes us human. But there is no hurt that the two of us can’t get through. And there’s no way I’m ever giving up on you,” you explain.
She squeezes your hand harder. You give her your best smile.
“I’m not sure how human I am,” Natasha admits. “People see me as a monster.”
“Those people don’t know you. You are so beautifully, wonderfully, painfully human.”
You’re not sure she believes you, but her tears begin to subside. Natasha reaches her other hand out to your free one. She intertwines them just like the other two.
“You really want me?” She asks, a certain shyness you haven’t heard before to her voice.
“I really want you.”
“With all of this pain and hurt I cause?”
“It’s not your fault,” you remind her. “And, yes. I love you. Nothing will change that.”
“I- I’m not ready to say it,” Natasha says. You know what she means. “But I do feel it. I think. It’s not simple.”
“It never is. All I know is that we can do this,” you tell her. “Can I hug you?”
Natasha nods. You step forward and she releases her hands from yours. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you feel her bury her face into yours. Residual tears dry, and you hold her tight.
You don’t know how long the hug lasts. Maybe mere seconds, or maybe it was hours.
But you know that you will always love Natasha, even when her castles are crumbling to the ground. A million times over, you will choose her.
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saltpepperbeard · 4 months
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you know what i'm so tired of? the influx of negative clickbait articles surrounding the possibility of ofmd s3. i've seen things like "taika says he isn't sure whether he wants to return for the third season" and "the show will go on without ed and stede." and the worst recent offender was "stede might be the one to breakup with blackbeard in the third season" because it misconstrued rhys' words when he was talking about ed and stede likely reuniting with the crew.
and like...intuitively i know that they are all indeed just clickbait, and are trying to take advantage of everyone's desperation for any sort of s3 news. and also, i feel like the negativity is pointed and purposeful, because it gets people talking and subsequently spreads the article around faster/gives that particular site more attention.
but man do i hate it, because it does not mix well with my anxiety.
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mzcain27 · 2 months
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“It’s just the kind of story that catches fire” YES because making the Hunger Games more popular and getting all of Panem to watch had to do with keeping the districts oppressed but there was nothing the Capitol could do about them being angry but also Grandma’am is THIS CLOSE to the point because the Capitol doesn’t care about its citizens either. They can parade for the funerals all they want but Clemensia is in hospital being half mutted and everyone is being lied to, Gaul will use whoever she needs to experiment and if that’s a lying Capitol kid then who cares? Sejanus has been saying ‘we’re supposed to protect our young’ but they are throwing high school kids in to deal with the district “animals” and all Coriolanus thinks about is the Snow legacy while his family eats cabbage soup for days while they think about losing their apartment
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myriadxofxmuses · 5 months
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@conscriptur from X
She scoffed at the poetry recitation, even if she got the jist of what he meant. And it wasnt the answer she expected. Especially from such a sought after victor such as Finnick. She'd fully expected some automated answer about victors sticking together or that it was his job to watch out for her. The usual Capitol yada, yada, yada.
Instead he showed her he had depth. That he may not have been as narcissistic as she thought. Finnick was definitely surprising her - her initial impression of him being slowly dismantled.
Johanna side eyed him as she struggled to gain some semblence of comfort in her current getup. His stare cut through almost to her core. It sent a small shiver up her spine. Somehow in his gaze she felt safe however. Though her mind remained partially in her games, her heart still fluttered at his offer.
No one had tried to help her before.
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"What makes you think I need your help?" she asked defensively, however inwardly she desperately wanted the alliance. "Don't tell me that pretty little head of yours has already forgotten how I won my games?" she asked further, though rhetorically.
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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months
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Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience
The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.
Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.
I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.
Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.
But wait! There’s more!
You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.
This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”
This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)
Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.
Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?
Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.
And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?
Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.
And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.
Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?
For…all of it.
All of the time that ever existed.
They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.
And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.
That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.
I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.
Do you know how uncommon that is?
Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.
That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.
And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.
And then you have the end of S2.
And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.
And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.
Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.
It just works.
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starrystevie · 4 months
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eddie isn't sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe. isn't sure how someone he actively avoided in crowded hallways morphs into a pair of eyes he seeks out when things are too much. isn't sure what it is about steve harrington that has him gravitating towards a once was king. it just suddenly is.
steve's a steady hand on his shoulder, a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe to get him up and moving. he's a barely there smile reassuring him that things are okay, will be okay, could be okay if they keep trying to get to whatever okay could be.
steve's there for all of them, he always has been. he's the one that every single one of their ragtag bunch runs to in their own ways because steve's strong in his own way and can take away bits of their pain and fear and hide it behind his armor so it can't hurt them anymore.
but he's different for eddie. he's more quiet, more sturdy. what would be smiles for el and a crass joke for dustin and a carefully crafted hug for robin is soft silence for eddie. maybe it's because he's the tiniest bit younger than eddie, maybe it's because he's newer, maybe it's because he put eddie back together with strong hands and an even stronger will and saw the quivering underbelly that he hides away from everyone with wide grins and overwhelming flair.
everyone except steve, apparently.
whatever it is, eddie searches for it with every chance he can. he slides closer to steve when crowds get too loud looking between their feet to make sure he isn't too close but can still feel the heat radiating off of his bare arms. he looks up to see steve's eyes on him when eddie's gone quiet, throwing him a small smile and hoping it catches. he holds onto steve's quiet acceptance of a shitty mixtape in the car when eddie needs loud, needs angry, because he feels loud, feels angry.
but then it changes.
whatever they used to be isn't a factor anymore. whatever they used to be starts to bleed into steve's fingertips against bare skin, feeling his heartbeat through paper thin veins like he's trying to remind himself that eddie made it. that he himself made sure that eddie made it.
eddie does know when that change happens, though. knows when they go from never touching to always touching. knows when it changes from the steve and eddie that are two separate thoughts to the steveandeddie that can only ever be said within the same breath.
it's just that he was so tired and steve was sitting on his ratty little twin bed in his ratty big city apartment and steve was safe. steve meant safe. steve was the hands that held him together in a nightmare world and the air in his lungs when he couldn't breathe on his own.
so it all seemed to make sense for him to crawl onto the bed, rucking up the well worn quilt that he stole from wayne under his bony knees, and settle his head onto the legs that carried him out of the upside down into a world where steve was a security blanket in and of himself.
and as eddie stared up at the ceiling with his curls draped over steve's lap, he felt when it all clicked. felt the thighs he was laying on tense and then fall, felt the hand holding crumpled magazine pages come to rest gently on his chest, palm covering his racing heart. but most of all he felt when steve looked at him, gaze landing on his face and covering him like a balm over a burn.
he looked back, because eddie always looks when steve needs him, and quickly realized he was steve's safe, too. eddie might not be sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe, but that doesn't matter. not anymore. not when eddie can be that for him, too. not when he can learn what steve needs and when he needs it. he's a joke when steve's mind starts spiraling. he's the loud of a shitty mixtape to make him smile as he sings off key when they drive. he's a hand in his hair, pulling him in to rest against his chest when there's bats and russian doctors and max's broken body clouding his vision.
eddie still crawls into his lap when he feels that bone tiredness pulling at his limbs. steve still shoves his face into eddie's chest when he has to clear away the ghosts hiding in his eyes. they still let their fingertips brush over pulse points when they need little reminders. and when they need to be wrapped up by each other, held together with hands that are gentle and unspoken promises, eddie knows they'll both go with open arms.
because they make each other feel loved, make each other feel real, make each other feel safe.
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angel-munson · 11 months
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stevie doesn't know
warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), use of petnames, cheating, phone sex (kinda), slight use of "daddy", choking, multiple orgasms, protective eddie with his fuck buddy
pairing: eddie munson x female (afab) reader
summary: your boyfriend steve cheats on you all the time. your vengeance comes in the form of eddie, who you're secretly hooking up with. when the phone rings during one of your sneaky sessions, a three-way call might be the way stevie finally finds out...[6.8k]
—inspired by "scotty doesn't know" by lustra—
a/n: i had this idea while listening to this song and HAD to write it. this is one of my first times writing smut, i'm still practicing! enjoy ♡
Your boyfriend Steve couldn't help but be a douche sometimes. Most times, actually.
You should have known dating Hawkins' most infamous ladies man might be problematic before you even started. His stupidly perfect hair and ability to smooth talk made you believe he might be different with you.
The first time you caught him with another girl, you didn't want to believe it. And because you were naïve and try to see the best in people, you stayed with him.
Unfortunately for you, there was a next girl. And another. And then another one after that. The cheating reached a point where you almost expected it to happen and even grew apathetic to it.
You stayed with Steve out of fear of being alone, and because that's all you knew how to do. That was until you became acquainted with the notoriously odd and intimidating Eddie Munson.
It started one night when you were buying weed from him. He'd told you to come by the trailer he lives in, claiming that he kept his "good stuff" there. You were surprised to find out how funny and kind the older male was.
He was a total flirt, making you smile and laugh in ways that King Steve never even came close to. That's how smoking a joint with him turned into the best sex you ever had, each having an earth-shattering orgasm on his stained mattress.
That one-time thing turned into a routine, squeezing in a quickie any chance you got. His place, yours, his van in the school parking lot, under the bleachers...
You and Eddie were addicted to each other, drawn together like magnets. The connection only got stronger the more time you spent together. He made you feel more than just physical pleasure...he made you comfortable.
After a shitty day, you went by the tattooed male's place hoping to forget your troubles. You ended up crying in his arms and telling him about everything on your mind. Eddie cared, he really cared about you.
That's why his blood was boiling when you told him about Steve. He could never believe that the douchey brunette got to have you, the coolest girl in town; hearing how he was treating you made him want to "rearrange Steve's face".
Slowly, you became more than just fuck buddies. It was a complicated situation, especially with how passionate the sex got at some points. Fingers laced together, longing gazes into each other's eyes, tender kisses, and sweet nothings.
You felt guilty for cheating on Steve even though he had been doing worse to you for about a year. Eddie encouraged you, never letting you feel bad about it. And how could you argue when he was inches deep inside you, calling you pretty and making you feel amazing?
He was doing exactly that now, thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt as he knelt behind you. Your upper body was limp against the bed, back arching as Eddie held your hips up. He gave your ass a firm smack, watching the recoil with a groan.
"Mmn, fuck, Eds," you moaned, face down in your pillows. The laud only spurred him on, encouraged him to pull you back against his fat cock.
"Yeah? You love being fucked like this, baby?" he grunted deep from his chest. The pet name made your walls clench around him like they always do. It drives Eddie crazy.
The slapping of your skin together halts when he pulls your ass flush with his hips, making the bulging tip of his dick push the soft spot inside you. You whimpered and reached back, searching for somewhere to hold on. Your sweaty hand found Eddie's forearm and you squeezed it firmly when he started gyrating.
The rolling motion he's making with his hips allowed him to fuck you insanely deep without ever leaving your pussy. His ringed hand slid down beneath you to your clit, three calloused fingers working it perfectly as he's done thousands of times.
"Oh my god," you pant, feeling a warmth tingle in your lower abdomen. "'M gonna cum. P-please, please."
The sound of you begging even though Eddie always gives you what you want made him chuckle darkly. He pulled out his dick merely a couple of inches, looking down at where you were swallowing him in. A creamy ring surrounded the base of his length, a sight that made him twitch as he pushed all the way back in to continue his motion.
Just as your whining picked up and you were about to cum, your phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Eddie's hand on your clit stopped and he slowed his thrusts as you groaned, annoyed.
"Does that asshole have to ruin everything for me?!" you bitched, already knowing it was your shitty boyfriend. You pushed your ass back, hoping to fuck yourself on Eddie although your climax was already ruined by the shrill ringing. "He can wait."
The curly-haired boy watched the part of your face he could see, laying against the pillow with reddened cheeks. He read the frustration on your face and bent down to kiss your shoulder blade. His hand slithered up your body, pinching at your hardened nipple.
He hummed a pleased noise when you clamped down around his length. When he was about to start back up, the phone sounded again.
"Oh my fucking god," you hissed, reaching to unplug it from the wall.
Eddie took hold of your bicep, stopping you. When you looked back, the expression on his face was one of deviance. He smirked from beneath his dark, fringed bangs and your heart sank.
"Answer it."
"What?" You couldn't believe what he'd said.
"Pick up the phone," he began, and his voice took on a devilish tone. "Have a conversation with your boyfriend."
"That's it?" you questioned. "No catch."
"Only one. I want you to be quiet. Don't give it away."
"Give wha-" Your words were snatched away when Eddie pulled his dick out with a wet schlick, plunging two fingers in as the replacement.
A high-pitched scream tore through your throat as he began to fuck you filthily with his digits. They weren't as thick as his cock, but the ferocity of his movements made you require a moment to recover.
"Pick up the phone and talk, sweetheart," he spoke with a steady voice, a talent of his you were consistently amazed by. He brought his face down to kiss the plush area around your ass and hips. When you didn't grab the telephone fast enough for his liking, he brought his teeth down on the skin.
You squealed, biting your lip and regaining your composure as you lifted the phone to your ear.
"Hello?" You swallowed thickly, hearing your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
"Hey, babe. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday." You rolled your eyes at Steve's lie. "What are you up to?"
"Me? Oh, nothing much, just-"
Eddie began to scissor his fingers inside you. His lips pressed to the unoccupied area of your slick sex, lapping up the juices as quietly as he could. Your free hand slammed onto the mattress on its own accord, grabbing a handful of the floral sheets for purchase.
"Talk, baby," Eddie breathed against your core. He licked a stripe up your fold and blew on it before introducing a third finger in your swollen hole. You pulled the phone away temporarily to whine.
"Just watching some TV and working on homework," you lied, letting the words out a little too quickly.
"Oh, that sounds fun." Steve's totally not listening to you. "I saw that 'Risky Business' is playing at the drive-in this weekend."
"Cool. That's the one with Tom Cruise?"
Eddie chuckled when you squirm as he removed his fingers, creating a sinful noise. He saw the way your thighs were shaking and pushed your hips down to level you flat on the bed. He hovered over you, caging you beneath him as he moved his face to where you could see him.
You met his eyes that were hooded with a teasing hunger you can't stand. He sucked on the fingers that were just inside you, cleaning your slick off as he moaned quietly enough that Steve didn't hear.
"Yeah, that one," Steve's voice sounded, though it's impossible to focus on anything but Eddie.
"I was thinking we could go see it. It'd be like old times."
As Steve started to detail the date, Eddie crawled back down to part your legs with his large hands. You brought your hand from the sheets to your mouth, covering it as his plump lips start to kiss their way up the insides of your thighs.
"We could park in the back, bring some booze..." Steve's voice rambled on as Eddie's lips finally connect where you want him most.
He began to eat you out from behind, sucking and swirling his tongue in combinations that had you grinding yourself on the mattress, desperate for some more friction. Your mind went blank when he flattened his long tongue on your clit.
"Are you listening to me?" Steve snapped.
"Y-yes. I'm listening," you struggled to respond back. "Go ahead."
Hearing this makes Eddie laugh, vibrating against your dripping cunt. The sensation shot you closer to your orgasm and he could tell from the way your hole gaped around nothing.
"Pretty pussy," he spoke against it, though you can barely hear him. "Needy for her daddy, huh? So naughty. Gonna cum on my tongue while she talks to her boyfriend."
You caught the last part and made a fist, biting down as Eddie prodded his long tongue into your slit. And because he's greedy and wants to taste your orgasm, his thumb skillfully circled your clit.
"No one can see us so we don't really need to watch the movie..." Steve chuckled and you would surely roll your eyes if they weren't already back in your skull from Eddie's ruthless assault on your pussy.
"Sounds like you just wanna get in my pants, Stevie," you shot back, voice steadier than it had been because he was really bothering you. This made Eddie growl an animalistic sound.
He knows he shouldn't be jealous, but he is. Especially now when he's buried in your cunt, the one you've told him he owns so many times before. He knows Steve can't make you feel half as good as he does, can't fuck you the way he does, can't love you the way he does.
With a final slurping sound, he abandoned the idea of pulling an orgasm out with his mouth. He lost all self-control; he needed to be as deep as you can take him rightfuckingnow. You barely had time to register the fact that he stopped licking you before he roughly tugged your ass back up in the air.
"I didn't mean it like that, I just...We haven't gone past second base in forever." Steve's ridiculous words were drowned out when Eddie slammed back into your pussy.
It welcomed him, wet and stretched out from everything he'd given you so far. He faced hardly any resistance stuffing his generous length all the way to the end of you. The backs of your thighs smack his pelvis as he started to drill into you with an unforgiving pace.
You screamed, loud and high-pitched into the receiver. Your upper body sank and you attempted to hold yourself up on your elbows. This only added to the pleasure as your blushed nipples rubbed the cotton sheets, tits bouncing with every thrust.
"Babe? What was that?" Steve stopped mid-sentence to question you.
It was a challenge trying to straighten out your thoughts when you could feel Eddie in your throat. He's hitting such a delicious angle, one that prods the spongey end of you so forcefully it's teetering on the edge of pain.
"N-no..." you stuttered, holding out the vowel as you fail to soothe your boyfriend's suspicion. "Nothing. Something f-fell off the shelf and scared me."
The words came out rushed, all weaved together in one single breath. Each time the metalhead thrust in and out, he stole away your oxygen. His large, rough hands squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to pull you against him. His thick cock was splitting you apart, emptying and filling you to bust at the seams at a frantic speed.
A dark chuckle spilled from the plump lips of the male behind you and he could still taste you on his tongue. The realization made him groan, dropping his head back as sweaty tendrils of cocoa hair tickled the backs of his shoulders.
Without warning, he slowed suddenly. You were about to whine at him before Steve's droning voice on the phone reminded you of the secrecy you were beginning to fail at maintaining.
The metal of Eddie's rings bit your skin when he squeezed firmly on your left hip. This was one of his signals for when he wanted to switch positions or have you take over.
He was able to guide you without words, your heated body pliant beneath his dominant touch. His cock never left your pulsating core as he relaxed his position back, kneeling on the mattress.
Your legs bent around his as you sat back against his lap. His chest pressed flush against the curve of your spine as you wriggled, adjusting your seating. The position would allow you to reverse ride him using the strength of your thighs.
The curled cord of the phone was stretched out to reach where you were. The douchey brunette on the other line was telling a story about some party he and Tommy had gone to, laughing at his own words as he recalled the memory and tried to omit the parts about him hooking up with other girls.
Eddie's one hand settled against your hip while the other smoothed its way up your side. It started at the soft pooch of your tummy, up to your heavy tits to tweak the hardened peaks, and finally to a gentle grip on your neck. His long fingertips reached up to tilt your chin forward as he clamped around the thundering veins near your throat.
As you breathed a strangled gasp under his touch, he forced you to look up where the reflection of you two stared back in the mirror atop your dresser. The sight of his hand of rings wrapped around your neck as you were seated on his cock made you moan, a noise that was cut short by the pressure from his choking.
You weren't sure who looked more fucked out, you or him. Usually, Eddie was great at keeping his composure, but the look he had in his eyes when you met them in the mirror was...feral. Rabid, exhausted, lustful, on the brink of losing it.
He took in the sinful sight of you. The way your head was hanging limply on his shoulder, drool glistening at the corner of your lips from the aggressive pounding you'd just taken. Your grip on the telephone was weak, leaving it to slide low on your neck as your sweaty hand could barely stay up.
"Come on, pretty," he rasped hotly in your ear. "Take what you need from me."
       With a breath in for preparation, you lifted yourself up slowly. As you hollowed out, your cunt drooled down every inch of him and onto his balls, heavy and wound tight with his impending release. You cried out when you dropped your ass back down, spearing his bulging tip into your guts.
You began a steady pace, bouncing yourself on his dick and swallowing the whimpers that came when he stretched your hole continually. Eddie thrust his hips upward to meet your movement. This only wedged him deeper into your sex, nudging your uterus and launching you toward climax.
       Steve was ranting about how much he loved having a pretty girlfriend and that he'd make it up to you for how busy he's been lately. You pulled the phone away, clamping a hand over the lower speaker as you switched to gyrating your hips in circular motions.
"F-fuck, Eddie. So good, so, so..." you babbled.
His rugged hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises you were making. On your neck, his hot mouth sucked and nipped.
"Gotta stay quiet, sweets. Pick up the phone and keep talking," he ordered.
"But, da-"
"Don't be a brat," he barked. A particularly sharp thrust upward punched the air from your lungs. "Don't you wanna be good for me? Want me to let you cum?"
You nodded with such vigor Eddie thought it must've hurt your neck. He removed his hand from your mouth and smacked a wet kiss onto your temple.
"That's my girl."
       Your cunt fluttered around him, giving you away.  You loved how possessive he could get and he knew it. Maybe it was because he cared and wanted you to be his...that was more than your actual boyfriend ever did.
Taking a deep breath in, you brought the phone back up to your ear to find Steve finishing up his ridiculous ramble.
"How are you gonna make it up to me, big boy?" you uttered, exerting all your effort to sound natural.
The tattooed male grunted beneath you and encased both your hips with his large hands. He used his strength to lift you up and drop you back down on his fat cock. It was a challenge keeping the sound of slapping skin to a minimum, especially when his brain was this fuzzy.
His dark eyes kept darting between the mirror and his lap. One allowed him to watch himself pumping in and out, your cunt stretched wide around his girth and soaking down to the coiled tufts of hair at his base. Your ass jiggled each time and the skin reddened from the roughness.
       The mirror was his favorite view: you, coming undone from how incredible he was making you feel. Your body was littered with love bites, places he'd nipped at for hours that evening. The sight of your breasts, full and flushed as they swayed with the motions, was making him lose it.
When he ever looked at your pretty face, Eddie had to tighten the muscles of his abdomen to hold off his orgasm.
Your head was lolled back into the crook of his shoulder. Sweat-damp wisps of hair were glued to the sides of your pink cheeks. Your eyebrows were knit together, creased in the middle as you worked to stay quiet. Saliva glistened where it trailed down from your swollen lips, stuck open with small breathy pants.
He needed to make you cum now because it was growing impossible for him not to.
       Steve was spewing some bullshit about flowers and taking you to Enzo's for dinner. You nearly laughed thinking about how the last time he did that, he flirted with the waitress and ogled at her ass right in front of you. It blended into white noise when Eddie increased his efforts.
He leaned back slightly, the sticky skin of his chest leaving your back to allow a needed swath of cool air. Two calloused fingertips pressed to your sensitive nub and begin to play you like his most prized guitar. That alone was pushing your stimulation to the brink of exploding, but he wasn't done yet.
The lanky male returned to thrusting upward into you again with more fervor this time. Rather than just stroke straight up, he used his hips to direct himself in different directions, at multiple angles.
His massive cock pioneered its way into places you'd never felt him before. You could feel the thundering of his veins as he stretched out new channels in your pussy.
"H-hmn," you bit down on moans. "Mmn, hngh."
       It didn't take much more for you to lose yourself. The band in your stomach that had been pulled taught since before the phone even rang finally snapped. A pathetic whine rose from your chest as your body quivered, seizing up and then falling limp.
"Oh, fuck," Eddie spat, about to come undone himself. His throat choked up as he continued to ram upward, quickly chasing his own orgasm as you became a rag-doll in his lap.
Your juices trickled down his skin as he pumped into you a few more times. His whimpering blended with your heavy-breathed panting as he came deep inside your cunt.
The sound of his ragged moans and sharp cussing was almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. When you came back down to earth, he'd already recovered from his climax.
"Shh-shh," Eddie soothed. Your slit throbbed as the milky mess you two made warmed where you remain connected. He pulled your back flush to his inked chest. "Took me so well, honey. I've got you."
The bad boy being that sweet to you though he fucked you so ruthlessly made you melt into his touch. Your eyes drooped and a single tear streamed down. The sensation inside your chest was red-hot, passionate; deeper than something you should be feeling for your fuck buddy...
       Coming had caused such a blackout in your mind that you didn't register Steve speaking to you until he shouted through the phone.
"Hello?! Did you hear what I said?"
"S-sorry." You struggled to hide the exhaustion in your voice. "What?"
"What the hell was that noise? Are you watching porn or something?" he pushed, clearly irritated.
You weren't sure what to say...he had definitely heard your keening as you came, probably Eddie too. Would he be dumb enough to believe a lie?
"It's just the TV. Some overdone sex scene, I dunno," you responded.
Eddie wrapped his strong arms around you to help you relax against him, giving your worn-out body a rest. Your abused cunt fluttered upon feeling his warm release spilling out around his softened length.
"Oh. Okay. Well, turn it down," Steve requested. Wow, he is dumb enough to believe it.
       Miraculously, your boyfriend went right back to blabbering. He loved to talk when it was about himself; he switched to the topic of how his dad was forcing him to get a job at the mall for not getting into college.
You almost felt bad since he doesn't really have anyone to talk to. He always dumps it on you, and you let him no matter how shitty he is to you.
Your mind doesn't have time to wander that way as the metalhead picked you up, pulling out and admiring the mess you made. The hollow feeling as your gaping hole clenched on nothing made you wince.
Eddie's soft hands laid you down with your back on the mattress. It felt nice to be horizontal again, able to let yourself settle in with limbs that felt like Jell-O. You rolled your head to the left, trapping the phone between your ear and shoulder so you didn't have to hold it up anymore.
With heavy eyelids, you glanced up at where the long-haired boy was. He was standing at the foot of the bed, taking a long drag of the cigarette he'd abandoned in the bedside ashtray. You two held gazes as he blew out a grey cloud.
"Want some?" he mouthed to you. You nodded, eyes blown open with luster. The springs of the mattress creaked beneath his weight as he leaned on a knee, outstretching his tattooed arm.
"What about The Gap? Or Herman's Sporting Goods?" you suggested to Steve's need for a job.
After the words left you, Eddie held the filtered end up to your lips. You laid a gentle hand on his forearm and swept the pad of your thumb over the freckled skin. The deep inhale of tobacco was a welcome indulgence after the body-shaking orgasm you had.
The sight of you was trouble, however.
Eddie could feel the blood rushing back to his crotch again already. As he backed up, you caught sight of his cock, red and hardening. His sex drive never failed to impress you; that's why most times you left his place being unable to walk.
He couldn't handle it. How beautiful and fucked-out you looked laying there. Your body, every curve and dip, was glimmering with a sheen of sex. His marks were all over you: from hickeys to bruising indents of his rings, to his cum dribbling out of your sweet center.
His heart was throbbing, perhaps even more painfully than his dick was.
       It stood upright against his toned stomach as his gaze dragged across you. The Harrington boy recounted his failures of the jobs he'd already applied for while you twisted the rubber-coated cord around your finger.
The image of the older male needy for you again had you rubbing your bare thighs together. He was undeniably the most attractive guy you'd ever seen. Never before had you had this level of sexual chemistry and spark with someone. It's like he unlocked something in you, took away your fears, and maximized your pleasure in all things.
"Jesus," he muttered.
       You two moved in sync, your hand traveling up your own body as he brought an uneasy hand down to palm himself. His tip glistened with pearlescent pre-cum when your red-painted fingernails cupped your breast. You squeezed down just enough for the fat to spill between your knuckles, putting on a show.
Apparently, your stamina had built up since being involved with Eddie. You beckoned him closer with a curling pointer finger.
"Need you," you let the words ghost out. And because he would do anything you say, the boy crawled atop you so his frizzed curls hung down around your face.
You gripped the midsection of the phone to secure Steve's increasingly-irritating voice against your ear. The lower speaker pressed into your shoulder, hopefully an effective agent for muffling noise.
Two of your nimble fingers hooked around Eddie's dangling necklace to pull him down. His mouth was gentle on yours, a newfound softness to ease back in. It was a nice break from the rushed heat of the past hours and still turned you on an immense amount.
       There wasn't much foreplay this time. Eddie's diamond-hard cock sank inside you easily as you made out lazily. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your puffy cunt, a pathetic sound that he swallowed as you passed it onto his skillful tongue.
"Do you think Coach would be one of my references?" Steve's questioning intonation snagged your attention before it got too foggy. You hummed against Eddie's lips and your unspoken language got him to pull away.
"Mm, maybe...who else do you have?" you mumbled. As you turned your head to the receiver, the long-haired male kissed your cheek and temple. He then nuzzled his face into your neck.
It was a momentary break for him, pausing to breathe in your scent and become intoxicated with you. It was something he did when he was feeling clingy, needy for you; a confusion in his mind on why he felt so intimately connected to his friend with benefits.
"Perfect girl. He doesn't deserve you," Eddie slurred with hot fanning breaths. "Gonna make you forget him. Gonna fuck you so good you can't remember his dumb name..."
       As he grumbled in one of your ears, Steve was in the other, justifying that he used his mom as a reference. You urged him to think of other people and asked him about places in town that he thought would be fun to work at; you knew this would send him into more verbose blabbing.
Your purposeful inquisition worked and your boyfriend's words became garbled nonsense as you shifted attention back to the pretty boy on top of you.
He had begun to thrust, slow and sloppy. The movement was enough to increase your two's breathing and arousal. He accompanied it with wet kisses along your neck, suckling the tender skin every so often.
"More," you huffed. Your fingers twisted in the roots of Eddie's hair and tugged softly, emitting a groan from his throat.
"More what, sweets? Hm?" he urged, lifting his face up to see you. He was super talkative in the bedroom, so it was killing him trying to tone it down since you were on the phone.
"M-more Eddie."
       He puffed air through his nostrils in amusement and forced his cock a tad deeper in you. His hips continually met yours as you felt every veiny detail of him gliding inside. The whine that left you was unintentionally loud, neediness pricking momentary irrationality in you.
Hearing you asking for more him had Eddie's world spinning and cock pulsing.
"'M gonna give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me," he grunted. "Just a little longer."
You gave him agreement by stretching your neck up to meet his lips, kissing him into a wet mess. He adjusted his legs, slightly kneeling to give him better leverage to fuck you. As his hips picked up moving again, a thought struck his fuzzy mind. He broke the kiss.
"Baby, need you to do somethin'," he uttered in that deep bass his voice takes on during sex. "When you cum, be as loud as you want."
"E, he's gonna hear." You emphasized the words quietly, gesturing with your head to the phone you held with a clammy hand.
"I know" was all he said before snapping back and stuffing his cock meanly into your sopping pussy. Your hand was jostled from his hair to the broadness of his back, muscles strong beneath taught pale skin. You had to dig your nails in for grip, trying to hold on and not scream from how incredible he felt.
       Missionary was not a position you two used often. It was too romantic, though you blamed it on its "vanilla" reputation; nothing was vanilla when Eddie was as huge and skilled as he was.
In fact, being able to see him up close in the position was launching you toward your orgasm so quickly that you couldn't even think. His eyes were like polished cedar, brown and glossy as he maintained an unbroken gaze.
The curled mess of his hair hung around his broad shoulders and strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat. Pink, plump lips that kiss you just how you need him every time were parted to let out throaty breaths. His cheeks, flecked with faint spots and a tiny vertical scar, had flushed the most delectable red hue.
It was impossible to conceal the small uh's and hah's that slipped your lips. Eddie couldn't get enough of them, fueled to fuck you harder so he could hear them louder.
       You loved being able to hear him too. He was no doubt the one in charge, but you had the ability to make him fall apart with such ease. There was a longing in your chest to hear him praising you, something he was holding off on since Steve was still a third party to this.
Normally, the older male would be coaxing you to your orgasm. He always hit this point where you were squeezing him so tight that his mind got lost, absolutely drunk on you and how you felt.
Feel so fucking good, babe. Jesus, you're fuckin' tight. Wanna hear those pretty noises when you cum for me. Perfect pussy squeezin' me just right. Gonna fuck you like this forever, beautiful girl.
He was biting his tongue now, only letting flat huffs and the occasional groan fly free. But you knew the things that drove him crazy.
       You lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him closer. It made you suck his thick cock even more, pussy suctioning him to its limit. The angle had his tip spearing into your stomach and he could feel it. He hissed through his teeth.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned. Your warmth was gripping him like a vice and it had the muscles in his abdomen tightening. His thrusts stuttered only a second before they increased in intensity.
Harder, deeper, faster.
"Fuck! Eddie, Eddie," you gurgled, tongue twisted and mind entirely mush. Reckless abandon took over you, leaving Steve entirely forgotten. "Oh my-hah-ah...Baby, baby please!"
The pitched whininess to your voice was a telltale sign of your climax. Eddie stroked a hand up your side, thumb rubbing your tummy.
"Let me hear your pretty sounds," he purred. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."
You were a goner.
       With the sensitivity of your cunt, you came suddenly, harshly. A flash of white light overtook your vision and your head pushed back into the pillow. As Eddie continued grinding himself deep into you, your back arched up off the mattress to press your body against his chest.
The noise that rattled your throat was somewhere between a sob and a moan. As your body seized up, the plastic phone dropped into your shoulder. Your fingernails dug further into the reddened lines they scratched on Eddie's toned back.
Your juices mixing with the cum he was fucking back into you made a wet squelching as he continually rammed in. He thrust through your high as his balls tightened and he couldn't take any more. His rings pinched your skin as he clamped down on your hips for leverage.
"Pretty girl takin' me so good." Eddie began the mindless ramble he often does as he unravels. "Pussy was made for me. Pretty...fuck, 'm gonna cum. Gonna cum inside my girl. My sweets-"
       Despite your exhaustion and subspace blankness, you gasped at the sensation of the hot flood of his cum coating your walls. His cock throbbed as you squeezed him for every drop. Eddie panted in heavy breaths as he continued to slackly thrust.
He let his sticky body rest on yours gently while his dick softened inside you. Your legs dropped onto the mattress and you relaxed, letting your breathing regulate.
The wordless recovery was one of the best parts of sex with Eddie; both of you making dulcet sounds, bodies pressed together...just you and him in a cloud of euphoria and heat.
       That peaceful moment was cut terribly short when Steve's furious voice boomed through the phone speaker. He was loud enough that you both could hear him even as the landline lay in the crook of you.
"Are you having sex right now? You're fucking some other guy?! Answer me, (Y/n). I swear to God..."
Eddie lifted his head up from your chest to clutch the phone, believing you were too out of it. As he was about to scream back at your boyfriend, your small hand encased his large one. You nodded at him and took the phone.
       Though you appreciated his protectiveness of you, this was yours to handle. Steve Harrington had screwed you over, treated you like shit too many times.
No more.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that wrong of me to do?" you began. You didn't know tonight would be the night you duke this out with him, but here you were.
"Are you fucking kidding?!" Steve snapped, obviously fuming. "You're cheating while you're on the phone with me!"
"You wanna talk to me about cheating, Steve? That's hilarious. Really fucking ironic, don't you think? I'm not an idiot. Heather, Tina, Linda, Tracy, god damn Carol!"
       The words you spat made him shut up. You took a moment to breathe, the anger toiling inside you mixed with the heat of sex. Eddie collected your tangled hair to lift off your neck, preventing you from overheating.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Steve deadpanned. "I knew you could be a real bitch, but slut trumps that by a long shot."
The phone was ripped out of your grasp before you could reply. Eddie had heard and he was fucking seething. In the low lamplight of the room, you swore you saw fire in his eyes.
"Talk to her like that again and no girl will ever want to be seen with your reconstructed face," Eddie threatened. His voice was booming, full of venom.
"A cheating, classless, daddy's money douchebag like you could never take care of a girl like her. Don't worry, 'cause I've got it covered. Fuck you."
       You flinched at how hard he slammed the phone back onto its holder. His shoulders broadened as he inhaled a deep breath and released it, shaking with anger.
However, when he brought his face back to you it was soft and kind...those eyes cradling you inside their vision like the most precious thing he's ever seen. Without thinking, you used two slim fingers to brush back his hair with a tender touch.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned his weight onto his left side, hip meeting the mattress. His soft length remained inside you, plugging up the creamy mess you two made. Your body moved with his, angled just slightly as he used a grip on your waist to keep you ever so close.
"Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes momentarily. You were dazed, worn from going at it for hours with Eddie and exerting the rest of your energy on Steve.
The tattooed boy tipped your hips as he pulled out, making you wince at the sensation. Feeling that empty after being stuffed full all night had you tingling. He kissed your cheek with saliva-shined lips and reached blindly around the bedside. Your eyes blinked open slowly upon the contact of him wiping you clean with his bandana.
Mindlessly you ran your hand up and down his warm bicep. He swiped the cloth delicately over your swollen folds, taking care not to hurt the sensitive area.
       As he cleared the wetness, you watched his eyes, glossed and mesmerized that were glued to your sex. You breathed a hum of amusement; he was still shamelessly addicted to your pussy, even when he was showering you with the tender aftercare he did every time.
"Thank you," you expressed. It was an innocent utterance into a room heavy with sweat and lust. Eddie's gaze met yours and you blinked, tiredly.
"I told you before, you don't have to thank me for cleaning up, sweetheart." He scrunched his nose cutely.
"I didn't mean for that."
"You don't have to thank me for making you cum," he remarked with a cocky smirk.
"Not that either, you dork." You poked your red-varnished fingernail into the black ink on his peck. As your round-cheeked smile faded, the eye contact between you two intensified.
       For fuck buddies who keep one another secret, you sure do look at one another with a lot of endearment. Maybe it's because of how intimately you know one another from the sex. Deep down you both know it's more than that; you just don't want to admit it and ruin what you have.
"I meant thank you for helping me finally get rid of that jerk," you mumbled. It made him smile genuinely with those dimples that charmed his way into your pants many months ago.
"Fun way to do it, wasn't it?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He circled you in his arms, one slipping beneath your neck and the other wrapping around your back.
Both your hands rested on his chest when he tugged you closer. Naturally, your legs tangled into a jumble as your bodies were constantly magnetized to be as near as possible. It was a state of calm that you never felt with anyone else.
"I couldn't handle hearing you cry over him anymore," Eddie admitted. His voice rumbled under where your palms were flattened. "He never deserved you and you didn't deserve to feel like that."
       The wavering breaths you released tickled his pale skin, still burning. He seemed to always have the right words and the ability to make you feel good. You scooted your face closer to his on the silken pillow.
"I feel a lot better now," you murmured.
"I bet you do," he smirked. "I think that big finale was the loudest you've ever been. 'Oh, Eddie! Oh, baby!'"
His teasing mockery of your moaning made you roll your eyes, but his big dimply smile got you. You burst into giggles as the inches between you closed and his nose bumped yours.
You didn't need Steve; you never did. It was your friends with benefits, your fuck buddy, your dirty little secret who finally made you realize it.
       A blissed smile formed on your plumped lips when Eddie kissed your forehead and hugged you against him. Relaxation soothed your sore muscles as you had nothing left to worry about.
Not then, anyway. It was just you and this perfect boy who respected you and made you scream with pleasure.
Cuddling in the afterglow with him, it wasn't long before you were both fast asleep, velvet skin pressed warmly together as you rest your tired bodies.
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reblogs & feedback are appreciated! thanks for reading♡
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nsharks · 6 months
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part ten —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~
An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run. 
Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires. 
Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"
Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.
"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.
She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself. 
Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.
He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.
Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—
There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.
You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."
You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.
The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.
"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."
He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.
"You bitch!" 
He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.
Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides. 
"Blue!" he bellows. 
"Dad!" she yells back.
He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans. 
"They tried to kill us," she cries.
“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”
You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased. 
"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"
He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."
He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so. 
He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him. 
Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.
"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.
You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.
"They can fucking smell us," you choke out. 
"Hit the faster ones!"
Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you. 
Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal. 
When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left. 
A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid. 
"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks. 
You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running. 
You whip a brief look behind you. 
"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!" 
"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."
You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms. 
You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter. 
This time you fail to grab the beam.
Cold water envelops you like a million needles.
A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up. 
You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.
Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.
"Grab on!"
A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering. 
You cough up water and bile. 
"Bloody fucking hell.” 
It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.
Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.
"Take off your clothes. Put these on."
The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep. 
When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin. 
"You were shot?" 
His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills. 
"Knife," he says.
You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.
When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to. 
You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."
His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."
"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"
"Just a graze," he confirms.
"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."
Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?" 
"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."
"Why did they try to kill us?"
He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.
"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."
He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.
You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.
"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."
You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.
There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Do you fight so hard."
A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.
"I... I don't know."
With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket. 
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beenbaanbuun · 17 days
Text
brothers best friend w/ yunho
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this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓
you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now
whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you
you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon
it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully
“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”
threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose
he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older
a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit
the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick
but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead
yunho
he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips
it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin
“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”
you ignore him
“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame
the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs
trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…
“where is he then?” you urge
“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious
like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need
you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now
“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”
he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down
“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”
yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face
the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout
holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—
“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”
yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”
he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway
you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him
god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him
“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment
he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket
it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge
you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge
“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room
you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life
the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning
you can’t help it when you groan in complaint
“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”
“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”
he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”
he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features
you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you
you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead
you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night
a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh
“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”
again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in
how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray
you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands
if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now
it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister
“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”
you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it
he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft
he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming
god, he needs to get a grip
“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”
and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having
the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away
his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—
“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”
“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”
“i can’t belie—”
“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”
the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior
yunho chuckles
“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”
he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her
“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”
san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated
“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”
“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone
“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”
there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more
his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room
oh fuck
he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time
especially with you in those tiny little shorts
for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something
they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself
thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed
he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs
he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress
“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”
yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny
“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”
“they’re fine?” you confirm
he nods
“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you
he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him
how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure
yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat
“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”
you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling
he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command
not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them
they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it
he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts
it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt
the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy
a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more
but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you
what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more
how you’d sound when you beg him for more
how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back
fuck, he’s in so deep
and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about
he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle
he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms
he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush
he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle
god, he needs to be fucking sedated
a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next
“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”
“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”
mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes
he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him
“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”
“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission
“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs
yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation
it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all
but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears
and he hears it
something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night
no… it can’t be
“yunho…”
your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day
you moaned his name
“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time
yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs
he freezes
“yuyu,” you mewl
yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips
it’s now or never, he decides
he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself
sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed
the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you
“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed
a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes
fuck, he’s going to destroy you
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singmyaubade · 7 months
Text
Are You Afraid Of The Dark?
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KINKTOBER 2023
Dark!Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader
Summary: Don't be afraid of the dark.
Warning: Containing DARK THEMES such as NONCON/DUBCON, cursing, smut, etc.. Stay advised.
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Studying late at night wasn't always the best idea considering students weren't allowed in the corridors after eight PM.
But of course, Ms. AlwaysTryingToAceATest couldn't resist spending the night before OWL's to study her arse off.
It was truly a bad decision on your part but you couldn't fail your last year of Hogwarts, it was entirely unacceptable.
Getting the perfect scores was something that you needed. But was it worth walking through the dark corridors with a small light beaming from your wand?
You heard a creak behind you, startling you out of your thoughts.
"Fuck," You whispered, looking behind you to see only pitch black.
"No cursing!" An old lady in the painting reprimanded you as you muttered an apology.
"And turn that bloody light off!" A scruffy looking old man yelled at you, causing you to sigh in annoyance.
'You only had a few more steps before reaching the Gryffindor common room, you could make it without light there.' You thought, putting your wand in your back pocket.
You kept yourself to the side of the wall, using your hand to navigate where each door was by swiping it across the walls, hoping to feel a door.
"Y/N," An eery whisper ran shivers down your back as you looked behind you to only see pitch black.
A part of you wanted to calm yourself down by saying that it was all in your head but another knew that you weren't insane and there was no way your brain made up that sound.
Your feet quickened, trying to make it faster to the common room before you felt yourself trip over something hard.
"Shit!" You mumbled, trying to pick yourself up.
You heard a deep laugh behind you which sent the same shivers down your spine you had felt from earlier.
"Alright, who's fucking with me?" You questioned, trying to take your wand from your back pocket to use as a flashlight but you could no longer feel it.
You panicked, feeling around for your wand but you couldn't see and neither could you feel anything around.
It could've dropped anywhere.
You stood up, about to walk backwards before you bumped into what felt like a chest.
You turned around, still only seeing pitch black, "Who are you?" You asked, slowly backing away.
"Why?" The deep voice asked, "Are you afraid of the dark?"
You couldn't make out the voice and it wasn't helping that you couldn't see the figure but it could see you.
The fear was almost radiating off of you but you tried your best to seem stronger than whatever it was in front of you.
"No," You answered, "This really isn't funny whoever you are," You tried to sound strict but you knew you sounded more scared.
"Are you sure you aren't scared?" You heard another deep voice from behind you as it gripped your waist.
You didn't know where you could go, there was two in front of you and you couldn't see a thing.
"Fuck off!" You stepped on the foot of the guy that was gripping on your waist but it only made his grip tighter.
Tears were about to stream from your eyes, "Please stop," You sobbed, feeling the most scared you have ever felt in your life.
"We won't hurt you," The guy behind you whispered in your ear, brushing the hair away from it.
"We would never do something like that," The guy in front of you said, stroking your cheek.
"Never," You heard another deep voice next to you, creeping you out even more.
"How many of you are there?" You cried but it sounded more unserious than you meant for it to sound.
All of them did a throaty chuckle, "Just us three," The guy next to you spoke.
"Please don't hurt me," You sniffled, tears actually raining down your cheeks now.
"Like he said," The guy in front of you whispered, "We would never hurt you," He kissed your neck down to your collarbone.
"Unless you're bad," The guy next you chuckled, palming himself through his pants.
"C'mere," The guy behind you stroked your hand, gripping it lightly and leading you somewhere.
You could feel the two men behind you following you guys and you still wondered how they knew where to go.
You heard a door close behind you as you gasped to already feel hands groping your breasts as a moan left your mouth.
"Keep quiet, you don't want people knowing what a slut you are," The man said, continuing to knead into your breasts.
A man tsked, "Don't be so mean Prongs,"
Prongs? You didn't know anyone by that name nor by that nickname which confused you.
Prongs snickered, "How can I resist?" He said, before reaching under your shirt to feel your breasts, twisting your hardened nipples. He pulled your shirt from over your head.
"Moony," The man said, "Aren't you gonna get in on this?" He asked.
"I'll have my time Padfoot," Moony answered, his voice not that far away from you.
"How about you be a good girl and get on your knees?" Moony asked, still standing where he was. Prongs and Padfoot placed there hands off of you.
You obliged immediately, getting on your knees as you heard footsteps towards you. You heard the sound of a belt being pulled off as you gulped.
"You know what to do darling," Moony said, gripping your hair in his hand.
You placed your hand around his erect cock as you did a small lick on the slit of him, earning a groan from him as you tasted the pre-cum on the tip of him.
You started sucking on the tip of him, teasing him a little bit. You felt him grip your hair harder as you went further, trying not to gag considering how big he was.
Suddenly, he shoved himself down your throat as you placed your palms on each of his thighs.
"Come on, I know you can do it," He encouraged you, your nose being tickled by his pubic hair.
You tried your best to breathe through your nose as he fucked your throat. He pushed your head back as you gasped for air, him letting you breathe for a few seconds.
He lifted you up from your knees using your hair before delivering a harsh kiss to your lips. His tongue exploring your mouth as if he was tasting himself.
You could feel him leading you somewhere, "Bend over," You did as he you felt your bare chest on a cold desk.
You could see a little bit of light peaking through from outside just enough to see that you were in a classroom.
Before you could think deeper, you felt your tights and underwear being ripped.
"At least let he keep her clothes intact Pads," Prongs said.
"Don't have time to take them off," Padfoot muttered, his cock teasing your entrance.
Before you could react, he placed himself inside of you, a guttural groan from him as you moaned. The stretch almost ripped you open, you felt. His fingers reached towards in between you and the desk, rubbing your clit in circles as you moaned loudly.
You could almost feel him inside of your stomach due to how big he was.
"Gotta keep her quiet," Prongs said, positioning himself at your mouth as you opened it willingly, his cock entering your mouth.
Padfoot's movement quickened as you moaned around Prongs's cock, earning a groan from him.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last for long," Prongs whimpered as you tasted him down your throat.
You could feel your release building up inside of you as Padfoot started pumping inside of you faster.
"Shit," Padfoot cursed as he started going faster, signaling he was about to cum inside of you.
Both of your moans were loud as you both came simultaneously as he placed kisses on your back before pulling out.
You hissed at the sudden emptiness you felt in your stomach.
Prongs moved away from your mouth as you cheek laid on the cold desk, already tired.
"Baby, we still have a long way to go," Prongs whispered in your ear as you felt Moony move behind you.
He gave you no time before inserting himself inside of you. He was longer and thicker than both of the other boys, earning a loud moan from you as you didn't go gentle on you.
The sound of skin slapping and moans filled the room. You knew you were red from how lewd the sounds were.
"You're doing so good for me," Moony praised, placing his hands in your hips to push you into him.
Drool was leaking out of your mouth, the pleasure you felt was nothing you had felt before.
His thrusts became sharper, more of him inside you and faster. You gasped every time he pulled in and out.
"Come on, give me one," Moony said, kissing the top of your ear.
You felt yourself inching towards your release as he pumped inside of you.
You both moaned one final time before both of your releases came.
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After what felt like hours of orgasms, the boys finally let up but you were clearly out of it.
"How was that sweetheart?" James asked, the light beaming from his wand as he kissed your forehead.
"So good," You lazily said.
"Did we go too rough on you?" Sirius said, positioning you upright as he did a spell to fix your undergarments and putting them on you.
"Never," You said, giving him a peck on his arm, "I loved it," You smiled, “By the way, what were those nicknames?”
Sirius smirked, “Just something we made up,”
Remus moved your hair from your face, "How about we run you a bath?" Remus asked, smiling at you.
"That sounds perfect," You grinned as Remus kissed you on the lips, "It was all perfect,"
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A/N: Okay, I am very rusty when it comes to writing smut but woo! The official first day of Kinktober, I am so excited for what's left to go and if you hated this, I apologize LOL.
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ravenclairee · 6 months
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Hope. It it the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective. A lot of hope is dangerous. A spark is fine, as long as it's contained.
THE HUNGER GAMES — 2012, dir. Gary Ross
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idanceuntilidie · 5 months
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What about yandere prince over his favorite knight? Male reader ofc :)
I am done I deserve mac n cheese and almonds
Hope this was okay.
Yandere Prince x male reader
tw: yandere themes and being held against will
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You were assigned to prince Charlie since you were little, so naturally you were very protective of him.
You two shared a very special bond of course, two best friends since childhood.
But for prince Charlie, it was oh, so much more. At first he didn’t understand it, you were there more often than not.
He remembers how often you clinged to him when you two were younger. You were supposed to be the one protecting him, he didn’t mind that.
As you two grew older, you got braver and stronger. You even spend less time with him. He noticed something was wrong with him.
An unknown feeling blossomed in his chest.
And you made it so much stronger.
It’s not really like you did anything special, you just,
existed.
He started to appreciate your existence more. How when you smiled your cheeks were dusted by pinkish colour and your eyes twinkled with such a happy flame.
How you wielded your sword and how brave you were.
He watched you, heart longing for you. For your little touches, your laughs.
Oh how he wishes you two were kids again, he would protect you from danger and you would cling to him and never let go.
You were so far away but at the same time so close. After a while, just watching wasn’t enough, he needed you back and he would do everything to make it happen.
You noticed a slight change in your environment.
It started small, maids, servants and other knights started to ignore you. They shook when they saw you and ran away.
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You weren’t a violent person, so you didn’t understand what was wrong.
It hurt slightly, but you can’t just go around crying. You were a royal knight after all.
Then Prince Charlie requested you must be near him at all times, you expected that since you were his personal knight,
no more strolls through the castle and gardens. No more training. You can’t leave him, not even to eat or sleep.
You feared the last one. You feared you might grow weak, but you can’t let your prince that so you stayed silent.
You didn’t dare to eat, drink or sleep in his presence, much to his dismay. You thought it was disrespectful to even do these things in his presence, EVEN if you two knew each other all your lives.
After some time your body could in fact, not take it anymore so you fainted.
You woke up not long after, laying on the comfiest bed you had ever felt. Stripped from your armour and chained to the bed. Your first thought was that someone broke in and hurt your prince, naturally, you began to struggle. Your body was weak due to the lack of food or sleep.
You didn’t notice your Prince walking cheerfully through the door.
“Oh you are up, how wonderful”
He chirped happily. Your tired eyes followed his figure.
“Your.. highness? What is the meaning of this?”
You asked, voice raspy. Swallowing hurt so much.
“Oh you had fainted my dear knight”
he hummed as he placed something on the table. You tried to move your arms, you felt weak. Chains only rattled quietly because of your movement, it caught Charlies attention.
“Don’t you dare to move y/n”
“Just, just take me to the doctor I will be fine in few days and-“
His pale face turned cherry red in anger.
“No! You are only allowed to see me, only me! I AM taking care of you now!”
His voice boomed loudly in your ears. You winced.
He turned away from you, trying to calm down, then took something from the table, a plate. Charlie walked to the bed, and placed the plate on a nightstand, so he could uncuff your hands.
Your body felt weak, you let him sit you up.
“Now, let me feed you yeah? You must be oh so hungry, and then we can spend some time together.”
he smiled, you were too weak to argue so he took your silence as an agreement. You prayed silently that this was just a dream.
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myriadxofxmuses · 4 months
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13. someone they have conflicted feelings about (for johanna)
From X
I think it's pretty obvious she has conflicted feelings for Finnick, but I also see her as having them for Katniss. Just not in a romantic way.
Johanna doesn't want to believe that Katniss is the savior of Panem like everyone else seems to so easily fall into. She doesn't want to believe that although the fight ahead will be hard, that it is also that easy for everyone else to just fall in line and follow her. She's seen how she trains. She watched her games. While she will admit Katniss had some strategic wins over the other tributes, she also belives a lot of it had to do with luck. And luck doesn't win wars in her opinion. She also doesn't think Katniss is any better than any other victor/tribute - she was thrown into the arean with the goal of killing off her competitors and winning the right to continue breathing. Anyone with half a brain would do the same things she had. On that note, she doesn't see anything special about the girl on fire.
But Johanna also can't deny the signs that the pedestal everyone has put Katniss on is legit. While unwilling to admit it outright, she does see the light within and knows she is just as much an equal, if not better. While Johanna used trickery to acheive her win, Katniss did not, which is where the girls definitely differ. Katniss was never afraid of showing her abilities -whether out of naivety or strategy Johanna doesn't know, but it worked all the same. She sees the will and the fight in her and, regardless of her preconceived notions of the girl, knows that is just what Panem needs to fuel their rebellion.
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st4rtar0t · 1 month
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Helping your recognise your superpower
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I'm currently doing donation based readings to pay for my tuition fees. DM to purchase a reading!
Thank you so much for your time and energy and I hope you have a great day ahead!
Picture 1
Your lust for knowledge is your superpower. And I know you may think that is a lame power to have but I do want to your realise that knowledge is everything. The more knowledgeable you are, the more mature you become. Maturity comes from a sense of understanding and experience. The way you're always ready to learn new things makes you unique. Some of could be an higher achiver, or your sense of self comes from your academic performance. I think it's good to be knowledge but don't bring yourself down when you don't perform well. Give yourself time to learn and revise.
Your another superpower is your ability to look at situations from different perspectives. You know sometimes our pain clouds our vision making it difficult to acknowledge the hurt of others. But not for you, no matter how bad your situation is, you wouldn't let your emotions cloud your judgement Which is an remarkable ability.
Your faith, whether in yourself, in others or in something greater than us all, gives you strength and resilience in times of difficulty. Your belief in humanity, your trust in kindness and your faith in the possibility of a better future awaiting us uplifts not only you but also the people around you.
Picture 2
Your planning is your superpower. It's like having a secret weapon in life. When you plan, you're like a master strategist, able to foresee obstacles and navigate around them. You can set goals and figure out the steps to reach them. Planning helps you stay organized, focused, and prepared for whatever comes your way. It's not just about making lists; it's about taking control of your future and making things happen. So, embrace your planning abilities, because they can truly make you unstoppable. Some of you could be INTJ/ENTJ.
Your another superpower is your protectiveness. It's your ability to shield and guard the ones you care about, keeping them safe from harm. Just like a superhero, you have an instinct to watch over others, anticipating dangers and swooping in to shield them from harm. Your protective nature is a strength that shines brightly, offering comfort and security to those around you. Embrace this superpower, for it is a reflection of your love and dedication to keeping your loved ones out of harm's way. you may think that this makes you more feminine but caring for the people that you makes you stronger. Your constant transformation is your superpower because it means you're always evolving, learning, and adapting. Instead of being stuck in one way of thinking or doing things, you embrace change and use it to your advantage. You're like a chameleon, able to adjust to any situation or challenge that comes your way. This flexibility allows you to grow stronger, wiser, and more resilient with each transformation. So, don't fear change, embrace it, because it's what makes you unstoppable.
Picture 3
Your love for others is your superpower because it has the ability to transform lives in ways beyond imagination. When you extend kindness, understanding, and support to those around you, you create an atmosphere of warmth and positivity. Your love has the power to heal wounds, mend broken hearts, and inspire greatness in others. It's a force that spreads joy, brings people together, and fosters deep connections. Through your love, you become a beacon of hope and strength, capable of uplifting the spirits of those who may be struggling.
Your powerful presence is like a superpower. It's all about how you carry yourself and how you make others feel when you're around. You don't need special abilities because you are your own strength. People notice you without you having to do anything flashy. Your confidence and the way you connect with others make you stand out. Your presence is like a magnet, attracting attention and admiration wherever you go. It's what makes you truly remarkable.
Your voice and the words you choose have immense power. When you speak, it's like magic weaving through the air, touching hearts and minds. The tone, pitch, and rhythm of your voice can convey emotions and messages in ways that no other form of communication can. And the words you select? They're like arrows hitting their target, shaping thoughts, inspiring actions, and building connections. Whether you're calming a storm with soothing words or igniting a fire with passionate speech.
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milswrites · 2 months
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Hobbies Part 9.
~ Azriel X Reader
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series masterlist
Warnings: none?
Azriel moved through the halls like a starved beast. Hunting for the one thing that could satisfy him. His mate.
After the bond had snapped into place Azriel had wasted no time in travelling through his shadows to the Day Court. Whilst he couldn’t directly travel into the palace, Azriel made sure to get as close to the wards as he possibly could. Not stopping to wait for a single minute as he forced his way into the grand building, uncaring of the shocked guards who had taken to chasing after him through the winding corridors, shouts of their objection flooding his ears.
He was searching for Helion. For the one person who could tell him where Y/N was staying, where Azriel so desperately needed to go.
The shouts of alarm from the Day Court guards was a blessing for Azriel, their call having drawn the attention of the High Lord. Helion appearing before Azriel in all his glory, there was no surprise on his face at the presence of the shadowsinger in his halls. In fact it was almost as if he was waiting for him.
“I must say you’re later than I expected, did you walk here?” The High Lord teased, flashing a blinding smile to an unimpressed Azriel.
“Where is she?” He growled out, not wanting to waste any precious time he could be having with Y/N by staying and talking to Helion longer than he needed to.
“What?” The male gasped mockingly, “no hello Helion? I’ve missed you Helion? You’re the greatest High Lord ever Helion? I was hoping for more after what I did for you, forging relationships isn’t my usual job role.”
“Where is she?” Azriel snarled once more, refusing to play this game. Azriel was surprised at the control he was showing, the ugly monster inside of him that was born from the revelation of the bond wanted nothing more than to hold a knife to the High Lord’s throat until he told him where Y/N had been sent.
Helion sighed, but the glint of something other than annoyance shone in his eyes and Azriel could tell that the male was pleased at Azriel’s impromptu arrival at his court, “She’s in a village North-East of here, it’s about a two hour flight… but with the state you’re in I’d reckon you could make it in one.”
Without as much as a thank you, Azriel sped from the scene, the guards that had been chasing after him divided, allowing the tense Illyrian to pass through them, fearing what would occur if they were to stop him.
Not even waiting until he had cleared the palace gate, Azriel stretched his wings and took flight, as if spending another hour without Y/N’s grounding presence would lead to most certain death.
And so Azriel flew faster than he had ever done in his life. The bitter evening wind biting his cheeks and knotting his unruly hair. But Azriel didn’t care, not about his appearance, not when every minute that passed meant he was getting closer and closer to his mate. His Y/N.
Azriel would have flown for centuries if he had to, if only it meant Y/N would be there waiting for him when he landed. The mating bond must have gifted some cauldron-blessed power to Azriel who found he had never flown so swiftly, wings acting on their own accord as they beat powerfully, allowing Azriel to cut through the sky like a blade.
Until he felt it, the gentle tugging growing stronger, drawing him towards where he most needed to be. Stirred on by the feeling and wanting to be consumed by it completely, Azriel followed. Slowing his flight until he came across a quaint village which was glowing amber as the sun set around it. Y/N was somewhere in this small collection of thatched houses and farms, unaware of the arrival of the male who had become overwhelmed with his want to be near her.
Landing with such a force that his knees buckled, Azriel readily cast his eyes to his surroundings, scanning for the woman he so longed to hold. He walked through the gathering crowd of alarmed villagers, whispering to each other in question as they clearly had never seen an Illyrian soldier before. Let alone one who looked as feral as Azriel no doubt did after his rushed flight, wings flared and cobalt siphons vibrating with the need to release the power building within him due to his increased adrenaline the bond was pulsating through him.
He scanned all their terrified faces, seeking the familiar features of the woman he had grown to love. Eyes jumping from villager to villager until they finally landed on her. On the woman who Azriel was prepared to drop onto his knees for and beg for her forgiveness. He would do anything to ensure her happiness.
~~~~~
“Azriel” she breathed his name from her lips in disbelief, needing to repeat it to be sure that he had truly existed and that he was here now, “Azriel?”
Here she was, stood before Azriel in the sweetest shade of violet and he found himself unable to speak, stunned by her innocent beauty. Even the small crease of her brows caused his heart to palpitate. All the words he had wished to tell her over the past two weeks lodged themselves in his throat. Nothing he could say would ever do justice to the incredible woman before him.
As the shock of his sudden appearance in the village wore away, confusion flooded her expression, “Is that…my tunic? How did you get that? It was in my house.”
Once more Azriel failed to find the words he so urgently required. His mouth open yet unspeaking like a fool. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his tunic to retrieve the item he had hurriedly crammed inside before his disappearance from the Night Court. Azriel pulled out the sketchbook she had given him on their very first day of meeting and held it out to a stunned Y/N.
“What- what’s this?” She asked, taking the book with a frown on her face.
“You were right” the words finally poured from his mouth, “about me being miserable, about how I don’t do anything. That my friends wouldn’t want me to do nothing and waste away.”
Her eyebrow twitched as she pulled open the sketchbook, the pages of which were filled with inky drawings of her. Azriel knows he had failed to capture the true beauty that is Y/N. He had never drawn before and numerous pages from the book had been torn out in his frustration at his lack of skills. But he had filled the book, page after page being covered in the hours he had spent by himself in the Night Court. The need to print her pretty face in permanent ink and capture her glowing smile before he forgot it led to Azriel picking up this new hobby. The one way to ensure that even if he never saw Y/N again, he would always carry a piece of her with him.
As she took the time to turn through each work or art Azriel had created in her honor, the trails of tears that freely flowed down her rosy cheeks and her rapidly beating heart which Azriel felt entwined with his own, gave the male the confidence to continue.
“I love you” he stated, Y/N’s affectionate gaze moving from the drawings to his deadly serious face. “I have done for a while I think” he continues, “and Y/N if you forgive me I will love you with every ounce of my being until we’re nothing but dust in the stars.”
Now sure that he had her attention and Y/N wouldn’t run away or ignore him for his disappearing act, Azriel felt free to tell her what he should have done when they were in the solitude of the garden all those weeks ago, “You are the reason my heart beats and if I had to live the rest of my life not knowing if you feel the same way I do, if you share the same burning need for you that I have, then I will surely perish because that is not a life that I want to live.”
He slowly stepped towards her, raising his hand to brush the diamond-like tears from her soft cheeks, “You are my salvation and my undoing and I will love you for as long as the mother allows. And if you’ll have me, even after all that happened, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that I take you to explore every inch of Prythian. That we’ll see the world together and leave no place untouched.”
Allowing the notebook to slip through her fingers and drop onto the floor, Y/N grips Azriel by the front of his tunic, the tunic she had so lovingly made him, and pulled him in to a firey kiss, uncaring of the nosy villagers who were still gathered around them.
Unwilling to waste a single moment with Y/N that he was given, Azriel’s arms flew around the woman, pulling her roughly towards his chest and encasing her in his arms as their lips melted together. His lips which moved desperately against hers, wanting to express just how much she means to him and how harrowing the past few weeks without her had been. Y/N seemed to be on the same wavelength as the kiss she delivered him was filled with the same burning passion and uncontrollable need as his.
Finally, not wanting to get too carried away in front of the crowd of people who were now awkwardly staring at the pair, their lips broke apart, though Azriel refused to let go of Y/N’s waist, not wanting her to take another step further from him.
She smiled, lifting her hand so it brushed over the shoulder of his tunic, “it fits” she beams, pleased to see the shadowsinger wearing her clothes. “It’s perfect” he whispered whilst leaning his forehead against hers, “I think I’m going to need a whole wardrobe full of them. All with dresses to match for you of course. Pink, purple, blue, I want them all.”
“That’s a lot of work” she giggled, hands still running over her creation which fit snug against his broad form.
“If you give me another chance we’ll have all the time in the world” he said earnestly, pulling his head away from hers far enough that they could lock their eyes with each other, “I know I don’t deserve it after what I did to you but please allow me to have a do over. A proper date this time now that I’m not afraid to call it what it is.”
“No running away?” She asked, a brief glimpse of sadness in her eyes as the memory of his absence was still fresh in her mind.
“Not even the mother herself could drag me away from you now” he promised, lips brushing against his mates once more.
Part 10
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: I screamed the entire time I was writing this. She knows he loves her but she’s yet to find out about the bond…hmmm wonder how that will go.
Only one more chapter and then the epilogue and it’s over but I really don’t want it to be 😭😭😭
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