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#fic: soaring high
taegularities · 2 years
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right, sorry for not mentioning things earlier 😅 so a fluff drabble for soaring high with tae, oc and jae? a day out! where jae misses oc and tries to call her with tae's phone or something lmaoo
anonymous said: bae i rlly need a drabble to see what souring high!tae is like when they’re finally alone 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️ u could literally do anything that u want !!
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fic: soaring high pairing: dilf!taehyung x reader warnings: a cute son, a cute dad, a cute relationship between said son and oc; tae loves to watch them play. he really is into oc, he just doesn’t say it smh. super sweet dilf!tae <3, explicit sexual content: fingering implied, he bends her over, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), manhandling, multiple rounds of sex implied, he’s so hungry and a beast, dom!tae, degradation; a whole lotta fluff too <3 wc: 1.5k (damn??) a/n: i thought i could merge those two requests into one !! hope that's okay and that u guys like it 🥰 if u’d like to indulge in the fluff parts only, u can totally stop reading after they drop off jae at his friend’s place. and do lmk what u think! <333 also totally unedited again, i apologise 😭 
ask my character! (no more drabble requests, please!) <3
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The sun shines onto the park pleasantly, the sky an azure blue and busy voices sounding all around. Children are busy exploring every corner of the place; one has been chasing a squirrel for over twenty minutes, Taehyung is sure.
Except his own spawn.
Immersed in the wonders of technology, he taps around Taehyung’s phone; most of the apps don’t interest him much, too adult-y, and too colourless.
His eyes dart between various symbols, not quite sure what to settle on. He sighs, somehow focused on both exploring and rambling. Taehyung has been nodding and humming for half an hour, listening to his son’s stories about kindergarten and teasing girls.
And when the narration ends, Taehyung waits for a moment. Reckons the tale is over, that his son has vented his chest off once and for all – but when he glances over to him, looking down at his wiggling legs and content smile, he realises why silence has descended upon them.
“What... wait, what are you doing?”
The phone rings. And then, your voice chimes through. Jae knows the functions enough to apparently not just recognise the picture Taehyung set for you on his phone, but to put a call on loudspeaker, too.
“Where are you?” Jae yells, and you make a sound that indicates you’re taken aback.
Then, a giggle sounds through the phone, and you fall back into your toddler voice as you ask, “Heyyyy, Jae, how are we doing? I’m at home.”
“Can you come to the park?”
Taehyung watches with furrowed eyebrows, close to snatching the phone from his son before he sees the delight in his boy’s eyes.
“Which park, baby?” you ask, still laughing.
“Uhm... near my kindergarten.”
“Right now?”
“Please?”
“You don’t have to,” Taehyung’s voice interrupts, and Jae looks at him as though he’s noticing just now that his father is right next to him, watching him.
There’s a small pause, a chiming of keys, a hum; then, you say, “It’s okay. I’m not doing anything today anyway.”
Because who are you to deny any request the little man might have? You can’t remember ever saying no – Taehyung says you spoil him too much. You call it “making his kid love me”.
And as he wished, you find yourself in the park around twenty-five minutes later; Jae’s eyes light up – genuinely delighted. Stars in his eyes that resemble the ones in his father’s gaze.
Previously busy with digging holes in the sandbox, he gasps; runs towards you with his little yet fast feet, clinging onto you as if he didn’t see you just last weekend.
Taehyung never says much when Jae and you play around. He enjoys the scene, enjoys the way you whisper secrets into each other’s ears; or how you let him win every game of rock, paper, scissors.
How he chuckles and falls back onto the couch when you crack a stupid joke or tell him a story from work.
“I forgot the shovel,” he tells you loudly, looking at you wide wide, shocked eyes. “We can’t make a sandcastle!”
“Oh no!” you exclaim; both your gazes drift to Taehyung’s, seeking help.
“Daddy, can I go and get it?”
But his beloved father kills both your hopes with one shake of his head, wiggling a finger as he says, “You’re invited at Chae’s. Maybe she has a shovel and you can play in her garden.”
“But–”
Jae looks between you and his dad, pleading and innocent.
“You can’t let a friend wait, Jae,” Taehyung scolds, standing from the bench. The beige slacks are smooth, hugging his waist where he tucked his white shirt in. The shape of his body is so alluring – the curves, edges and bulges leave nothing to imagination.
As always.
And your insides keep buzzing. Keep twirling as you look at him. Watch him talk to Jae, smiling softly, talking to him, reprimanding him. Telling him that he’d pick him up around eight, and that he needs to behave if he wants to eat his favourite pasta dish tonight.
Before you know it, you’re left alone with the man who asked for your number after a flight months ago. The man who rearranged your insides, anything but shy, a demon and lovely father at once.
But now that you look at him, his eyes are tender. Sweet and soft, housing care for not just his son and his relationship to you, but for you as a person, too.
Taehyung’s two-story-flat isn’t too far from little Chae’s house, so you decide to walk the small distance to his place.
Being alone with Taehyung never really comes with awkwardness. It has become your own personal source of comfort; one you cherish. One you think back to when the moments are over.
“What were you doing all day?” he asks, thumbs in the pockets of his pants.
“Was just rewatching my favourite show. I’m glad you guys called.”
“Well... Jae called.”
“Yeah, technically,” you say, smiling, your steps slow and relaxed.”
“Gilmore Girls, was it?” Taehyung then guesses, squinting one eye shut in concentration.
“You remember my favourite show? That’s flattering.”
“I uh,” he starts, swallowing, “I remember your favourite dessert, too. And your favourite drink. If you want, we could...”
You wait, looking at him in anticipation; he looks sweet when he’s shy. Utterly different from when he batters your body. He licks his plush lips, and you wait some more before you ask, “Yeah?”
“If you want, we could go to my place, and... eat some dessert?”
You laugh.
You know what that means.
First he eats his favourite dessert – pretty much swallows it whole. Then he lets you eat yours.
And then, he finally opens his fridge and takes out the actual delicacy.
“You know my dearest pastime,” you tell him, and he laughs.
“Jae was missing you.”
“Although we met last week?”
“Mmmh, honestly, he can’t ever stop talking about you anyway.”
And Taehyung enjoys it. Loves to hear your name, basks in the pictures of you that his son calls forth.
“And,” he hesitates, licking his lips again, “I talk about you a lot, too.”
You almost halt in your steps; your heart falls down deep and lands in front of his feet. It does the same whenever he mumbles things like these �� you might never get used to it.
“What is it that you talk about?” you ask.
“Just... I ask him what he thinks of you. Then I tell him what I think of you.”
“And what you think of me is...”
“Is for me to know and for you to find out.”
“Unfair.”
You hit his shoulder playfully right when you arrive in front of his entrance door. One hand of his holds his keys – but the other grabs your softly violent wrist, tugging your body close before he whispers, “Gonna treat you fairly to make it all good... ‘kay?”
Here he is. The beast you know.
The beast you still haven’t grown used to. The beast who pulls you inside his apartment, pushes you against the door. Growls against your skin, holding your arms over your head.
Mumbling curses against your flesh, eyes closed, groaning and lost.
He licks a trail along your neck. Tugs at your panties, shifting up your dress.
Taehyung’s slender fingers explore your shivering body, digging deep where you want him most.
“Pretty little cum dumpster,” he murmurs in between his actions; words so sore, actions so raw. “Prettiest woman in this neighbourhood.”
“Just this neighbourhood, huh?” you moan, laughing, eliciting a chuckle out of him as well.
“Just scared to use the word universe, ‘cause... you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
You want to remark something, but words die in your throat once he bends you over his desk, pushing away his books and stationery. 
His cock is throbbing, hard, slick with his own spit when he enters you caringly. A hand rests on the small of your back, the other holding your wrists under your shoulder blades.
He caresses your skin, pumps into you harshly, harder, a deep baritone assuring, “You’re the fucking best pussy I’ve ever fucked. God, I wanna... wanna–”
“Wha– what?”
“I don’t want you to be able to walk for fucking days, baby.”
He says that every time. And he keeps the promise every time.
His hand comes down to clutch the flesh of your ass tightly, slapping against it, pushing it up; and then, he repeats. Until your bottom feels bruised, aching and tingling.
Just how you like it best – he knows.
And when his thumb circles your clit, feeling your cunt clench around his veiny, thick cock, he lets go the moment you do. Synchronised, crazed, loud.
“Fuck, fuck, yeah, I–”
“Taehyung, I can’t feel... my limbs.”
Of course you can’t. His grip cuts off the bloodstream in your arms, and your legs jiggle like pudding, close to giving out.
But his arms are strong and steady. Keep you afloat, his body pressed against yours. 
He keeps you close, panting against your ears, ready for another round after your beloved dessert.
He wonders, “What do you think how many rounds we can go before I need to pick up Jae again?”
Cheeks pressed against the cold desk, you smile, readying your body for an evening of exhaustion and pleasure. Digging your nails into your palm, you wet your dry lips, open your eyes and say, “Let’s find out.”
DAMN THIS WAS........ longer than expected holy. please do let me know what u think !! <333
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adreamf-spring · 1 year
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Euphoria (TV 2019) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fezco/Lexi Howard Characters: Lexi Howard, Fezco (Euphoria) Additional Tags: Spanking, Light Dom/sub, Smut, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary:
“I just wanna feel you. Nothing else,” she says, and he nods instantly. Understands, like he always does. Like he always has, every part of her.
(reposted)
"She wants a bruise there, too, wants something that’s shaped just like him, his mouth, his teeth, a heavy weight she’ll wear proudly on her chest. Something to show off, and that runs a lightning bolt through her too."
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kiwi-bitchez · 2 months
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The Girlfriend Experience
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
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explorevenus · 29 days
Text
baby steps ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 5k
description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.
tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting
a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33
hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
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Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.
And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.
You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.
It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.
No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.
Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything. 
With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.
For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.
Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.
You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.
It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.
And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.
He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.
Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.
Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.
But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.
He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”
Silence. He felt like he had been shot.
“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”
His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership. 
Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.
He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.
A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you. 
Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration. 
You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.
Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.
On his side, of course.
He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.
But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.
You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.
“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.
But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.
“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.
His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.
Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.
“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”
You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine. 
“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”
Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.
You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.
He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless. 
“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”
A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…
“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”
You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.
He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up. 
He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.
Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.
“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.
His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”
You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.
“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”
Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.
Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.
That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.
Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”
His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.
You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.
Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.
“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”
As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.
You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.
He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take. 
In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?
In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.
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Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.
Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.
“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”
He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance. 
After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.
You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.
Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.
Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.
You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.
“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.
Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.
You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.
You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.
“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.
“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.
Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”
And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.
His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.
“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”
Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.
It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.
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tarjapearce · 7 months
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Laus Be
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WARNINGS: SMUT. Double cock Demon Miguel, Not proofreaded, Mild dub-con, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
A/N: I'm high af on Advil and had to take this out of my system before I forgot. And yeah jskjs. Probably comes out as crack fic jsksj.
[Laus Be - Praised Be]
Summary: A cult offers you as a tribute to the Demon King himself ~
Viscous crimson liquid rolled off your chin as you were forced the goblet on your lips. Some of its remnants seeping and sliding down your throat.
The chants of cloaked figure around you intensified as they prepared their sacrificial lamb for slaughter. You.
They had not only kidnapped and kept you in the shadows for a while, depriving you from external stimuli that could soil what they had in hand.
Silence had turned your biggest company in the dark, stony, fusty and humid cell, you were being fed with selected things. And no matter how much you begged, they never released you.
You didn't know them, neither their faces, as them remained perpetually obscured by the cloaks. The only indicator they were human was the fresh smell of charred flesh in the back of their palms. A skull like spider symbol  burned and forever marked into their skin.
You were kept in the dark until now. Everyone spoke in a foreign language you've never heard before.
One of them dragged you away from the  twisted comfort your cell provided you, another group, bathed you in such delicate oils and perfumes, a common practice among the royals, and finally donned in nothing but a white silky and lace robe.
Then you were taken to another room, more like dragged, a golden chalice brought to you. The sickly sweet smelling concoction stared directly at you, but naturally, you refused.
Do not ever accept a drink from a stranger.
Wise words from your old man came into mind, but the wistful thought was shaken away as the liquid was forced down on your throat. Some droplets staining your angelic appearance. Their cloaked leader seemed annoyed you had ruined the immaculate purity your dress limned.
But it mattered not. Not when you were guided to a different room. A room that immediately lit on its own, revealing several pentagrams carved on the floor and walls. Candles melted, but they seemed perpetually alight, neverending incandescence illuminating and warming the room.
An appalling contrast from your cell, from the place in general. There was no windows, not a glimpse of anything that could dictate you who reigned over the skies. Day or night. Your sense of time had been so warped you couldn't even tell how many days your stance in this place had been.
Your eyes felt heavy, droopy and your body shivered. The perkiness of your breast peeking through the silky and soiled gown. One of the cloaked figures pulled you inside the outer circles of the first pentagram.
The contact of their skin made you whimper. You didn't know what had came over you, but certainly that sweet drink you were forced down a little ago, had everything to do with it.
The gates closed behind you, as the mystery people surrounded you. All of them kneeled as their voices united in an ancient chant.
Your mouth panted as they repeated the chant.
Laus be, Rex tuus [Praised be, Our King]
Your heart thumped harder, as your temperature increased. Heat and fear spreading through your body as the circles of the pentagrams begun buzzing with dark energy, soaring into life.
The chants increased, and so the smoldering heat between your legs.
An Aphrodisiac?
You didn't know not cared. The only thing in your mind was to run, as fiery red eyes emerged from the dark mist that disippated into tangible black spiders. Spiders that approached to you in a freakish speed.
Egredere de requiem tuam!
[Rise from your slumber]
You fell on your knees. The presence of the emerging entity had your insides cry in sheer need. Your body was rioting against all rational thought. Need clawed and begged to be acknowledged, but fear clung so hard you tried in crawling away, only for a hand to reach for your ankle and drag you back.
"No!"
You whimpered as the spiders crawled on you, panic rose at seeing them jumping all over your body, you tried to shake them off in your haste, but a low growl made you still. Deliciously low and dangerous. Your heart and clit pulsed.
No, no, no! Run!
The little crawlers hopped on your body again, to your shock, they melded together, taking the shape of hands that were now caressing whatever exposed piece of skin you had as other tugged and tore at the ceremonial robe, forcing you deeper in the pentagram circles, right before the demon.
Palms brushed on your bare body, by instinct you tried to cover up, a pair of hands stopped you. Black mist hands held your arms above you, wrist together as the rest proded at your outer folds, squeezed your breast together, pinched your nipples, kneaded your hips and ass.
"S-Stop!" You mouth lied and the demon before you smirked. His sharp and well sculpted factions revealed to you. Despite the horns attached to his forehead, he was as beautiful as terrifying. Sharp teeth shone when he plunged his big thumb inside your lips, toying with your warmth and moist tongue.
"Don't fight it"
Raspy and underwordly voice echoed through the walls
The summoned hands ventured a couple of fingers inside your now soaked hole. Your eyes drooped even further. A debauched expression coming through your flushed face. You licked his thumb, and engulfed it with closed eyes as the fingers slid in and out of you.
"Surrender to me"
He growled as another finger stretched your squelching and pulsating cunt. His thumb twirled against your tongue as his body took it's final shape. Broad and well sculpted torso, narrow waist with a sight that made you clench around his fingers and your mouth water. Hard and proud cocks, adorned with thick veins, a happy trail decorating the above.
The chants never stopped, but it didn't matter. You were focused on his deep and alluring voice that called you into the depths of depravity where he came from. You were a sacrifice offered for him to devour.
Pushed on your knees and crawling to him, whimpering as his fingers slid faster out of you, edging you to your first demise.
His clawed hand took gently your chin, holding it open as his other hand took one of his hefty cocks and fed you the tip, you immediately took a hold of the other one, stroking your hand on it. All inhibitions gone as your mouth worked  him. He tasted rich, tangy and so addictive. He cackled at your shameless cock worship. Both mouth and hand wet and warm.
Your tongue was desperate to taste every inch of him, your eyes glowed in the same red hue. Your strokes on his second cock went faster, nearly fisting him between a tight grip. He hummed in approval
"So eager to please" He grunted and pushed deeper inside you, the stretch in your jaw was worth the pain as he slid in and out of your plump mouth. His hand bobbed your head on his length, coating him with a mix of your saliva and his pre cum.
You gagged but he pushed you as deeper as he could, holding your head still as his hips rammed on your lips, Your nose nuzzling and inhaling his musky and tantalizing scent that not only sent your senses in a stronger riot. He growled as your throat muscles clamped around him, tightly, just like your hand.
"Wonder if it's as tight between your thighs"
He rasped with a grunt and thrusted a few more times before releasing your head. A thick thread of his cum connecting your lips with his tip. You gasped, mouth gaping as the soft and wet noises kept coming from his soaked fingers. Your need to hold onto something only increased as your hips moved on their own, sinking deeper ontop of them.
"Pl... Please!" You mewled in between breathless pants. Your flesh soaked and quivered under his ministrations, imploring to be taken
"Are you begging to be destroyed, little one? Is that what you want?"
You nodded and his sharp fangs came into view as a wicked smile stretched in his meaty lips.
"So be it."
You mewled once more as he pulled his summoned fingers away from your slit, snake like tongue curling around them, taking a taste of you. He growled and pushed you to the floor.
Summoned hands immediately taking a hold of your body, spreading your legs for him to take in the sight of you. His lips were brought into sight as he approached your puffed and drenched cunt.
Slimy and amphibious like tongue slid between shivering folds, to then push in inside you. Clawed hands brought your hips against his mouth. Your hands clenched in tight fists at the pressure
His slithering and coiling tongue made you scream at the overwhelming sensation of him instigating your orgasm. His tongue was a bully, just as his hands that toyed with your clit and butthole.
Your nipples, engorged by the constant pinching and pulling. Toes curled in as you came into his mouth. As he left you, your insides felt empty, in dire need to be filled again.
One would think after such ministration the effects of the lust would tame down, but since the chant of the cloaked figures never stopped, your lust didn't subsided either. It only burned with such intensity you were growing to fear.
The handsome devil positioned himself between your legs, his sprung cocks twitched, ready to be plunged. The summoned hands folded you in half, exposing your holes to him.
The fist one rubbed in between your folds, coating it even further in your slick as the other one poked at your second tight hole.
"Oh God!" You cried as he stretched tortuously slow both of your holes at the same time, only to end up in a powerful plow as you mentioned 'god'.
He growled as his hand squeezed your neck, dangerously tight. Your arms restrained above you
"You'll see what a real god , feels like, wench"
Your spine arched as his hips began moving. To say you felt full was a measly thing compared to how your body was being used. Your lower belly bulged everytime he slid in, he pulled out only to plow deeper. Your skin shook by the rough display of power.
The hands that kept feeding your delusional debauchery, held you in place. The room was filled with your breathless and unceasing pleas and needy cries. A lot of 'Yes!' along with 'It hurts so good' and more 'use me!'
Your hips felt like breaking by the hefty weight of his own as they slapped against yours. Your senses were drowning in the sensorial overload he slowly put you through.
Skin burned, your nose kept smelling him, sweet and musky, adding to your already overwhelmed arousal, His taste reminiscing on your tongue, Your eyes locked in his cocks and how these disappeared into you, taking you to a new level of pleasure you'd never thought reaching. And hearing his growls everytime you clenched around him made you reach your second orgasm right away, despite him just starting using you.
"Pathetic" He sneered
His thrust increased in strength, making you spill out broken pleas and incoherent mumblings. The rough friction felt like nirvana itself. Overstimulation was devastatingly delicious.
Hands turned your convulsing form down. Chest flat against the floor, your arms were restrained behind your back by his demonic hand, and your plump ass, up, awaiting to be ruined.
You took a look at the hooded figures, none of them were looking, but they kept kneeling and chanting like their lives depended on it.
The new stretch on both your holes made your eyes roll back and your jaw to slack.
An array of lewd curses flew out your moaning mouth. His cocks fought for which hole came first. Your sobs choked and were replaced by mild grunts and screams as your body lurched forward at the force his god like body exerted on you.
Bot of your holes were shaped into his girths, stretching and welcoming him despite their continuous bullying.
The back of your thighs tainted red by the rough slaps and thrusts.
Another orgasm for you. Both holes clamped and creamed around him, his cue for giving you a little break that didn't last much as he laid on his back and sheathed you ontop, earning a weakened and shivering scream from you.
"I can't!" The hands held you again, helping your hips to move up and down as they spreaded yours ontop of his thighs.
A frown came into his face, with a swift movement of his hands, he made the summoned limbs to sheathe you faster and rougher. Your slick rolling down his thighs. His hand pulled your hair down as you wailed like a banshee in need.
As much as you wanted to close your legs, it was impossible. Pleasure turned borderline painful as his other hand squeezed your throat. The asphyxia only increased the brain splitting sensations.
The demon king only laughed with sultry mockery at your state. He wasn't even half satisfied, and you were already losing your mind.
What was it? Four? five? The clenching and sobbing from you just confirmed the fifth one.
"Giving up so soon?"
This time, he cradled you into his arms and summoned a throne. A throne where he'd sit down and sunk you once more ontop of him.
You shook your head vehemently, trying to get away. Your arms were numb behind your back. Both holes deliciously stretched, empty and a tired face Miguel still found amusing and endearing as to how you reacted.
He was holding back after the third orgasm. Humans felt always welcoming. But you, you felt heavenly.
So tight and delicious. A need he had to sate every year. The past tributes were outright awful. You had been  entertaining him for quite a while now.
His free hand cupped your cheek before his lips crashed onto yours. He moved his hips in a slow motion, trying to give your raving a pause as he took his time in exploring your mouth with his own and his tongue.
Your moist muscle opposed little at the slithering and coiling one that had you breathless in matter of seconds. Your body glistened in sweat. Hair strands etched to your neck, super back and cheeks. Flushed flesh and a dumb gone look that made you even more worthy to look at.
He had ruined you. And it was time to reward your outlasting.
His lips let you go and his hips began moving once more. You couldn't even utter a proper word. Voice hoarse and raspy. Mouth dry.
As he kept pounding and relishing your broken body, you couldn't help but collide against his chest and arch your back, creaming at the base of his first cock as your ass squeezed his second
He took a fistful of your front strands and seized your face as pleasure flooded your senses once more.
"Eyes on me, wench"
Miguel commanded despite your obvious struggle to remain conscious. His pace increased and so did your panting.
Breast bounced mercilessly at his rutting, his lips came closer to yours, you moaned into each other's mouths, before his moved to your neck.
He whispered and groaned things in that ancient language before kissing your tender flesh and biting with his fangs. Marking you as you came with a weakened yelp.
His hand let your arms go to then secure you in a tight embrace while growling and plowing deep enough to have thick spurts of his seed painting your tight and sore walls.
You had achieved what no other lamb had. You had appeased him.
For now.
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jksian · 3 months
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Rivals in flight (m) |JJk
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Navigating the challenges of adjusting and studying as a commoner amidst insults from the nobility was tough, but, the struggle only intensified when the fellow dragon rider, Jeon Jungkook, who took so much pride upon his status and abilities, became a formidable enemy and the ultimate pain in your ass. What did you do then? Simple. You started fucking him.
Pairing: dragon rider!Jungkook x dragon rider!oc
Genre: forbidden love, fantasy, e2l, ewb (enemies with benefits? lmao), smut, angst (18+)
W/c: 5k+
Warning: okay so... Jungkook is a jerk in it, noble Jungkook x commoner reader= chaos!, jk called her names (love, phoenix, SLUT), school bullies, arguments and fights, Enter Namjoon!!, oral sex in a semi-public place, hair pulling, grinding, fingering, ass spanking like for twice, he eats her out in a library🫣, edging, orgasm denial, cum eating, they are kinda toxic but it'll be okay later IF I EVER MAKE IT INTO A SERIES🥹
A/n: It's finally here!! This is my first ever fic so I hope y'all will like it! I know that e2l meant to be slow burn and it will be the same if I make into a series but I'm not so sure about that:⁠,⁠-⁠) Like, do you guys want me to turn this into a series?
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“Aster, ascend! Use ‘astral radiance’ on them now!” You commanded. The dragon respond with graceful flight, scattering the shadows with pulsating waves of celestial energy with his power.
Jungkook’s dragon again surged a series of shadowy entity, a relentless onslaught aimed towards you. You didn’t even had enough time to recover from the previous attack before you see a cloak of darkness approaching you.
“Screw you, Jeon Jungkook.”
As both of you resumed in a blaze of magic and motion, each command from Jungkook and you echoing through the air.
Eythor and Asterlith soared high above the arena where the game is going on, their wings slicing through the enchanted currents with a thunderous flap.
You guided Asterlith through a series of evasive spins and turns, “Defend! Unleash bursts of celestial energy to dispel the shadows!” That burst of energy created a celestial barrier, disrupting the shadowy figure.
The sky became a canvas for elemental clash. Shadows and celestial radiance intertwined, creating a mesmerizing dance that captivated the onlookers in the grandstand.
You heard Jungkook’s voice, a command filled with determination as the word ‘attack’ reverberates through the arena. Soon, you see a shadowy tempest raising above the ground, big enough to engulf the whole arena in its darkness. The intensity of it makes you a bit wary.
You, however, remained steadfast, “Aster, illuminate the sky and repel the encroaching shadows.”
You can hear the heavy breath from your dragon, as he tries his best remain solid in the fight. He had already used so much of his power that its getting harder for him to continue using constellations energy.
You rubs his neck, tried to calm his nerves and encouraged him, “I know you’re tired, baby, but please just a little more. Could you do that for me?”
You ask softly as he nodded at you. He gathered as much as energy as he can, his celestial radiance intensified, pushing back against the looming darkness.
The crowd below watched with bated breath as the clash of flight and attack unfolded.
The Dragon Duel had reached a crescendo, the clash of shadows and celestial radiance weaving a mesmerizing tapestry in the skies above Syndril. However, as the intensity of the battle grew, an unseen force intervened.
The authorities of the Wings academy, recognizing the escalating magical energies and potential consequences, decided to halt the duel for the safety of all involved.
“Cease the duel, right away!”
A resounding voice echoed through the arena, as you and Jungkook momentarily caught in the ebb and flow of the magical currents, reluctantly reined in your dragons, their energies already subdued but still resonating with the remnants of the fierce battle.
“This clash of powers has reached a level of intensity that poses a threat to the safety of the participants and spectators, so we have to dismiss the game at this very moment.” As the principal of your academy announced.
As the authorities assessed the situation, a magical barrier shimmered into existence, enveloping the arena. It served not only to contain the remnants of the magical energies but also to signal the temporary halt of the sports day.
Jungkook and you, both atop your respective dragons, when you shared a glance with him, you clearly saw a mixture of frustration and anger in it. You shrug it off as you saw a representative of the authorities stepped forward, addressing the dragon riders and the assembled audience.
“The Dragon Duel shall be temporarily suspended. We will assess the situation, ensuring the safety of all involved. Further instructions will be provided once we are confident in resuming the event.”
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In the ethereal expanse of Syndril, where dragons painted the skies with hues of mystique, the art of dragon riding was a privilege bestowed upon the chosen few, a regal tapestry woven for the noble and royal alike. The intertwining destinies of rider and dragon transcended mere power, forming a sacred covenant that echoed through the ages.
In the middle of Syndril’s heart, there stood a grand place called the ‘Dragon Keep’, a living testament to the ancient bond shared between the realm’s sovereigns and the winged custodians that adorned the heavens.
Throughout the annals of history, dragons have been formidable companions on the battlefield, their majestic forms serving as both a symbol of power and a devastating force. Since ancient times, these mythical creatures have been harnessed as instruments of war, their scales reflecting the glint of conquest and their breath embodying the fire of conflict.
But, as the time goes, dragons become companion and more of a friends to the humans as the bond between two becomes more strong.
In Syndril, the training of dragons was a vital necessity rooted in the intricate balance of power, protection, and tradition. But, only the nobles were allowed to have a companion such as mystical creature.
To provide such directions and train the dragon in a proper manner, the ancient of this land made a dragon rider academy named ‘wings academy’, where people from royal blood and noble families can train and study with their dragons.
There are few reputed dragon houses in the kingdom, famous for their Excelled skills and magnificent magic, from the ancient, these are the elite houses which has been serving this kingdom from ages.
Each of this houses carries unique abilities and distinct attributes that contributed to the kingdom’s intricate tapestry.
The first one is Eythor from the house Shadowthrone, famous for its mastery over shadows and illusions, possessed a unique and elusive power. Its ability to manipulate darkness and create intricate illusions made it a formidable force in both stealth and strategic deception. Ruled by the Jeons, highest member of the royal council. It is rumored that the only people who build this entire Kingdom and found out about it was, The Vilothorn’s and Jeon’s.
Next one is known as the house of stoneheart, famous for possessing the power of earthquake and stone manipulation, ruled by Kim’s.
The house of inferno is famous for harnessing the power of heat manipulation. There ability has become a relentless force of searing destruction on the battlefield, ruled by Park’s.
In contrast to the previous house, the house of Frostland is famous for its capability to freeze opponents with its breath and control ice in various forms, ruled by Min’s.
The house of Skydancers ruled by Jung’s, has the ability to dominate the skies with its mastery over air manipulation and flight agility.
And, once-extinct dragon, has been reborn again, now found by a commoner girl. Asterlith’s wings were said to carry the very essence of celestial realms, now under the care of you. A creature emerged with scales that radiated with the brilliance of a thousand constellations became a living testament to the resurgence of magic and the rekindling of ancient bonds between dragon kind and those destined to ride upon their majestic backs, and now, you become one of them.
A commoner in the academy where she will study alongside other aristocrats were something not acceptable. ‘only the noble are allowed to ride a dragon’ was like a tradition which now has been broken by you.
“Your Majesty, with all due respect, Wings academy has been a fortress of nobility for centuries. This departure from tradition may disrupt the delicate balance that has safeguarded our realm.” Lord Liam voiced his concern in front of the gathered noble in the chambers of Syndril’s royal court.
Lord Jeon, the most trusted component of king Leo and an expert diplomat interjected, “Yet, Your Majesty, the magic that binds ___ and Asterlith is undeniably potent, not to mention that she is the chosen one by Asterlith himself. Are we to dismiss the weaving of destiny itself?”
Conflicting ideologies echoed through the walls of the royal court as each person tried to justify their opinion. Some nobles, entrenched in their adherence to tradition, cast disapproving glances, while others, inspired by the possibility of a new era, nodded in silent approval.
A decision was reached—a groundbreaking one that defied the norms of Syndril. King Leo then announced that everyone must accept this new norm and welcome you into the, once only for the nobles, Wings academy. You, the common girl, would be permitted to study at the Royal Dragon Rider School alongside the nobility was the new rule passed through out the kingdom.
But, you weren’t warmly welcomed by the other students at the school neither.
You found yourself facing the cold glares and condescending whispers of those who clung tightly to the rigid norms of Syndril. The nobility, accustomed to a lineage that stretched across generations, viewed your presence as a disruption to their established order.
Despite that, you continue your training regardless. At least, those insults weren’t as unbearable as Jeon Jungkook.
The second son of Jeon house, Jungkook, a formidable presence in the mystic realm of Syndril’s, is an embodiment of unparalleled power and prowess.
Jungkook’s physical prowess is akin to a tempest, an unstoppable force that commands attention.
His martial skills, honed through rigorous training, transform him into a living weapon.
His strategic acumen, a calculated dance of intellect and intuition, adds a layer of sophistication to his formidable persona.
Not only talented but, Jungkook is a magnetic paradox himself, a living canvas painted with ink and adorned with piercings that echo the rhythm of rebellion.
His onyx locks, a rebellious dance against tradition, frame a countenance that carries the weight of both legacy and defiance.
With a set of piercing eyes, a deep brown that reflects both determination and a hint of arrogance, Jungkook’s gaze is both intense and captivating. His brow piercings increases the intensity of his gaze even more.
Upon his strong arms, a tapestry of tattoos unfolds, each design a narrative etched in ink- The motifs, stark against his fair skin, trace the contours of muscles that hint at a strength not easily contained.
Beneath the hardened exterior, however, lingers the paradox of a “baby-faced” warrior. Jungkook’s soft features, though sculpted by the passage of time and the rigors of dragon rider training, retain a youthful charm that defies the graveness of his responsibilities.
Here, Jungkook writes a story of contrasts, where tradition and rebellion dance together in a spellbinding harmony.
Yet, him being loved by almost the whole population of the kingdom, you found yourself loathing him.
The animosity that grew between you two, emerged from a combination of conflicting backgrounds, divergent ideologies, and a clash of personalities.
Jungkook carried the weight of familial expectations and traditions. His reserved demeanor and arrogant nature often set him apart, earning him both respect and an air of intimidation.
You, on the other hand, hailed from more humble origins, your ascent to the esteemed academy marked by determination and an unyielding spirit.
You both fought for recognition in the academy, often led to arguments marked by sharpe words, competitive duels, palpable tension and mutual hatred for each other.
The hatred grew over the years as well as the thick sexual tension between you two. The irresistible attraction you both feel towards each other is unexplainable but not-so-hidden either.
The aftermath of the halted Dragon Duel left the arena in an eerie silence, the tension was thick in the air.
As, all the students got dismissed by the school authorities, everyone stared entering the school and going back to their respective dorms.
You were walking alone as usual towards your dorm when you heard a very familiar and annoying voice of the male you hate so much, “This intervention was unnecessary. We could have settled it ourselves.”
Jungkook, his usually reserved demeanor now tinged with visible annoyance, broke the silence at last. His voice reverberates through out the hollowed hallway, making everyone pause in their movements.
You, equally agitated, responded sharply, “Your arrogance is truly astounding, Jungkook. The authorities stepped in to prevent a catastrophe, something you seem oblivious to.”
The venom In your voice evident and not much hidden from anyone present there. People gathered around you, saw the argument unfolding in front of them.
Jungkook’s patience worn thin, he retorted, “You act as if you know everything. This clash was an inevitable part of our training. We can’t shield ourselves from every challenge!”
He was being absurd with whatever statement he was stating. His pride was taking a toll on his thinking ability clearly.
You were beyond annoyed with his obliviousness when you shot back, “Training, yes. But, not at the risk of endangering everyone around us. Your recklessness is a danger, and it reflects poorly on House Shadowthrone.”
You heard a few gasps around you, people were surprising with your choice of words. You saw their eyes gone wide upon hearing you pulling house shadowthrone into this argument.
Jungkook was enraged, if he wasn’t a human but a dragon, he should have breathed fire and burned you to the ashes once and for all.
He snapped back, “You act as If your celestial ideals make you infallible. This interruption only proves your inability to handle the challenges and run away from them. I chose the perfect name for you, didn’t I? Phoenix? Rise from the ashes without any ability and prowess–,” he stepped a bit closer to you, burning holes into your face with his Sharpe eyes as he said, “You belong to the slums and should stay there.”
His insulting words pierced through your heart and ignites a intense rage which you were unable to handle, “I’m not afraid of challenges, Jeon Jungkook from the house of Shadowthrone.” You said mockingly, “I just refuse to let arrogance and recklessness guide my actions unlike you. We must be responsible for the consequences of our powers.”
Soon, the onlookers, divided by loyalties, began to interject with verbal insults and jeers. A supporter of Jungkook, emboldened by the mounting tension, shouted, “Jungkook’s strength lies in action, not in empty words and celestial theatrics. Your ideals won’t protect us when the real challenges come.”
People found amusement in them as they begun to laugh at you. You were standing alone there, with no one by your side but yourself, helpless but still defending yourself.
You countered with determination, "Strength without responsibility is a liability, not an asset. We need more than brute force to navigate the complexities of our calling."
You heard a ‘tsk’ from Jungkook as he kept on glaring at you. The voices in favor of Jungkook gained momentum, echoing sentiments of tradition and House Stonethrone storied legacy.
You saw Ivy Drakaron, one of the nobles who happened to be your fellow classmate, smirking at your direction and quite enjoying you being insulted in front of thousands of people, whispering provocative remarks to those around her and laughing along with it.
“Your supposed ‘responsibility’ is nothing but an excuse for your lack of prowess. Syndril needs dragon riders who can face challenges head-on, not ones who cower behind ideals.” Jungkook spits venom from his mouth at you, and this time, it was enough for him to break your hard exterior which you were maintaining carefully and brought tears to your eyes.
With glossy eyes, you glare at his direction and this time, he looked quite surprised and speechless.
Kim Namjoon, senior of yours, belongs to the house of Stoneheart attempted to mediate, stepped forward, “Calm down, both of you, Jungkook and ____. Our unity is paramount, and personal disputes must not undermine the cohesion of Syndril’s dragon riders.”
He had always been the mediator whenever you two started quarrelling in the middle of nowhere. Being the president of the student community, he had all the abilities to be the perfect leader, still, you both made him afraid with your intense fights, so much so that he became tired. He referred himself to an old man because, according to him, he will soon become bald, if he had to continue taking care of you two anymore.
You thought, he might stop with his hateful remarks after seeing your cracked demeanor, it was clear that you were hurt but he didn’t stopped. Jungkook, unwilling to yield, shot a disdainful look at you, "Unity does not mean blind conformity. Your idealistic notions jeopardize the very essence of our training."
“And your recklessness jeopardizes lives. I won’t compromise the safety of our dragon rider community for the sake of your misguided ideals.”
Before the tears descended from your gaze, you departed, no longer willing to endure the ceaseless barrage of disparagement.
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You were alone in the library at night, when you sensed an elusive presence that stirred the tranquil air.
It wasn't that the library was open at night, you often snuck in there from a secret path, finding the atmosphere of the silently library amusing, it became one of your nightly endeavours.
The muted glow of lanterns cast intricate shadows on the ancient bookshelves, creating an ambiance that heightened your awareness.
As you delicately turned the pages of an age-worn tome, the subtle rustle of paper seemed to echo louder in the stillness… An inexplicable awareness tingled at the nape of your neck, compelling you to glance over your shoulder.
Despite the initial surprise after seeing the figure that stepped into the pool of dim light, you decided to mask any reaction, adopting an air of nonchalance.
Because, you knew who it was.
You continued your perusal of the ancient tome, deliberately chose to ignore his presence.
Jungkook, sensing the deliberate indifference, cleared his throat as he leaned on the table in front of him.
You just gave a quick glance at his direction before continue your reading. You saw Jungkook’s eyes aglow with the flickering candlelight, he looked…handsome. You might fall in love if it weren’t for his arrogant nature.
“Seems like you’re quite fond of conversing with seniors. Is that how commoners like to elevate their status?”
There he goes again. Why can’t he keep his mouth shut?
Wait…why he is asking that?
It’s nothing like you both share a loving relationship, far from that. You both hated each other but despite the hatred, the burning desire and the tentative lust for each other was unexplainable.
The magnetic pull that neither of you could deny, at last gave in.
The first time he fucked you was the time, when you came in the second position of your test.
The rule was simple. The winner must take the lead.
It was quite exquisite seeing Jeon Jungkook squirming under your touch when you tied him up and kept him on the edge until he was begging underneath you, because he lost to you in a game of chess.
It was only this ‘physical’ relationship between you two besides the rivalry. So, why he sounded… jealous?
Nonetheless, you were quite enjoying it when you donned a smirk in response to Jungkook’s probing gaze. “Oh, didn’t realize my choice of conversation partners was under such intense scrutiny –,”
You moved towards the bookshelf beside Jungkook to grab an another ancient tome as you continued, “Namjoon? Just discussing the intricacies of life, you know, the stuff that doesn’t make it into noble conversations.” your words, laced with sarcasm, floated through the library.
You did had a conversation with Namjoon earlier, about the incident that happened before. He was worried about you. So, it was a normal decent conversation.
“ –also he was worried about my wellbeing.” You said as your fingers idly tracing the spines of the books. The calmness in your tone unwittingly added fuel to the simmering fire.
Jungkook’s jaw tenses, he retorted, “Seems like you’re building quite the support system among the nobles, ____.”
His constant insults only proves your theory further more, “It’s called having friends, Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you should try it sometime.” You subtly threw a smirk at his way before minding your own business.
This time, when you tried to move away from the spot you were standing, you felt a strong arm pulling you backwards.
“What friendship, ____? Where you fuck them?” His face was closer to yours, his warm breath hitting your face. You looked up at him and saw a intensity in his eyes you’ve never seen before.
“Why do you care? Huh?” You stood firm on your toes, “That’s .None. Of. Your. Business!”
“It is. Because, I’m the only one who fucks you.”
He clenched his jaw, a subtle tension lingered in the air. You didn’t knew why he was acting the way he was acting, so you tried to push your body away from him.
It wasn't like it’s any of his business. You can have any kind of relationship with anyone, he was no one who could tell you otherwise. His oddly possessive behavior made you irritated further more.
“J- Jungkook –,” You tried to pull your hand out of his grip and pushed him back. Your hand was on his chest, you felt his muscles tenses under your touch, “–let go of my hand.”
Instead of doing that, he pushed your back onto the table beside you, caging your hands behind your back as your butt hit the edge of the table.
He didn’t said anything, just looked at your eyes with the same intensity and something your couldn’t decipher.
“Let me go!” You whisper-shouted at him.
“Kiss me and I will.”
You eyes widened at his words as you saw a devilish smirk on his face. He was clearly messing up with you. You pushed against him again, but he settled his one leg in between your thighs, further confining you in that position.
“Fuck off!” You retorted, annoyance etching your words.
In response, he countered with a smoldering gaze, “I shall if you ask nicely.”
His face more closer to yours, lips brushing against each other and the leg between your thighs slightly grind against your throbbing cunt, making you whimper in the process.
You didn’t held back yourself anymore as you smacked your lips on his.
As your lips collided, an intricate ballet of conflicting emotions played out. You sucked on his lips harder, so much so that it might leave brushes behind but he didn’t restricted you.
You heard him growl under his breath when you latched on his lower lip and pulled it down with your teeth.
You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was like you were hypnotized.
“I hate you.” You said in-between the kiss and he instantly responded, “The feelings are mutual.”
The intensity of the kiss grew even more when he grabbed your one leg, wrapping it around his waist. You could feel his boner right against you.
You grind on it, eliciting a hiss from him, moaning when you feel him growing harder underneath those clothes.
He deepened the kiss further, pushing further into your body. His hands comes down to your butt as he squeezes it.
Both of your tongue moved in a symphony, making you weak on your knees.
Then you did something. You grabbed his long locks in attempt to push in your tongue inside of his mouth but, in return, you received a harsh slap on your ass, along with a bite on your lower lip.
“Don’t even try, love.”
The moan that escaped from your mouth should be illegal, because the way Jungkook’s cock twitched and jumped in respond to that made him moan into your mouth.
You feel a gush of arousal approaching just from the name he called you. You knew he called you that mockingly but the things it does to you…it would rather be better if no one knows about that.
Pulling your head backwards by your hair, he started kissing your neck , leaving trails of colorful masterpieces on his way.
A reminder for you about your secret, which no one knows but you, the walls of these library and the man sucking your tits.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet.” The sounds you were making, was obscene. He twirls his tongue around your hardened bud, harshly sucking on it. Two of his fingers makes its way towards your throbbing pussy.
“You aren’t wearing any panties?” You didn’t understand why he was in disbelief. It’s night time, so, wasn't it obvious?
“Yes, because I was going to bed, you stupi–,” you gasped when he suddenly pushed his one finger inside, making you clench around it.
“Watch your mouth, love, or I might shut you up with something else.”
That jerk!
Before you could threw some insulting remarks towards him, he turned you around abruptly and made you spread your leg wide. You found support on the table in front of you, as you gripped on the edges of it for some support.
He pulled your nightgown all the way up to your waist. You couldn’t saw him in the dim light, but you felt the heat of his burning desire.
The library's dim light cast shadows that played upon the canvas of your unspoken desires.
You felt his fingers on your thighs as they tentatively draw patterns on your smooth skin, as he kissed your inner thighs, making you shut your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.
When you did looked back, you saw Jungkook on his knees as he fondle your ass feverously, his intense gaze focused on your soaking pussy.
“Wandering around like this? You are a little slut, aren’t you?” You mewl when he placed a kiss on your clit, so soft that you just felt the ghost of his lips but it was enough for you to threw your head back.
Without a warning, he started sucking you clit, twirling his tongue all over your cunt as if he just found his favorite desert.
“My little slut, only mine. Right, love?”
He was settled in between you thighs, both your legs on his shoulder.
When you look down on him, he was smirking at you while devouring your pussy like a starve man.
The subtle eye contact ignited something in you, he made you feel things you shouldn’t felt. The forbidden sense of this makes it more appealing as you couldn’t help but drawn to the this unspoken game of lust and desire.
You screw your eyes shut, gripping the table as you prepare yourself for the upcoming orgasm.
He brought his fingers to your clit and started rubbing it in a crisscross way while his tongue goes inside of you, fucking you on his tongue.
As soon as that hot muscle entered, you moaned out his name, unable to control yourself, your essence dripping all over his mouth as he kept on rubbing and tugging your clit with his fingers while his tongue explores your warm walls as he found that spot which made your brain numb.
And, he knew it.
He smirked when you gripped on his men bun, shoved his face further into pussy as you grind on his face, desperately chased you release.
He kept on hitting that spot until you were a whimpering mess, but as soon as he felt your orgasm approaching, he pulled back altogether.
The whine that escaped your mouth was desperate. Embarrassing. But, you didn’t care.
“What the fuck?”
“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
Asshole.
He wanted you to admit, to submit to him. Admitting that you’re his, had always been a struggle for you. Why would you though, when you weren’t his? You never understood his obsession with making you admitting that.
It must be some sick power play for him, you thought.
“I’m not saying it, because I’m not yours.” You firmly stated, glaring down at him.
His eyes further hardened from the previous half lidded one, “Let’s see for how long you can stick to that.”
Again he goes back to his work, this time more rougher than before.
Every time, you came closer to your release, he pulled back and made you squirm in his hold.
At the last thrust of his tongue, you cried out, your cries resonated through out the empty hall of the library. You instantly slapped your hand over your mouth.
“Come on, love. Say it if you want to cum.”
He was determined about leaving you then and there, hot and messy with your dripping cunt if you weren’t tell him the words he wanted to heard. His stubbornness and competitive nature wasn’t anything new to you.
He again brought his hand to your abused pussy, but this time, he put his fingers in it while sucking on your pulsating bud, occasionally tugging and biting the bundle of nerves, making you go insane.
“Fuck. Please, please Jungkook, let me c-cum,”
You voice was whiney, your broken cries made his cock twitch in his pants once again, making him growl into your heat.
“Then say it –,” He smacked your ass, his teeth dragging all over your throbbing clit before tugging and sucking on it harshly, “Say that you’re mine.”
You gripped onto his hair, tugged on it as your thighs stared trembling along with your whole body, you were close.
This time, you gave up.
You pleaded to him, chasing your release once again.
“No no, O-okay, please I’m yours, I’m yours, jus–Just lemme cum.”
“Then, cum for me but look at me when you do. I wanna see your face”
You obliged without any obligations. You looked down at him, staring into his eyes as you saw his brows pinched together as his lips attached to your clit, while thrusting his fingers inside you as you cum around them, made them soaking wet with your essence, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he watched your blessed out face with a smile on his face.
He didn’t stop though, until he drunk all of that you gave to him, slurping your essence, leaving you dry.
He was back on his toes as he turned you around. Your legs still trembling from the intense orgasm and overstimulation, he held you, encircled his hand around your waist and made you sit on top of the table.
You could see his face glistering with your essence, shining under the dim light, his piercing eyes staring at your soul as you saw he licked his lips with his half-lidded eyes and tousled hair from you gripping and tugging on it.
He was so hot that you didn’t knew if you wanted to kill him or kiss him.
He made it easier as he put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence of off it, then pulling you into a kiss.
An electric charge rushes through you as it seemed to dance across every inch of your body. You gasped, when you tasted your own cum on your tongue.
You were out of breath when he detached his lips from yours, both of you tried to breath in some air while you thought what the fuck you just did?
When he tried to caress your cheeks, you pushed him back, made him bewildered in the process.
“I-I have to leave.” You stumbled a bit on your steps but caught yourself before he could reach out.
“____...” It was surprisingly…tender, almost affectionate. It made you wonder if he genuinely felt remorse, maybe guilt?
“What went down earlier shouldn’t have, and I get that I said some hurtful things. But…honestly, if you weren’t mentioned my house, I wouldn’t have gone there and– I hope you know that…”
Oh, the irony! Expecting an apology from him?
His pride soared too high to grasp your emotions. He didn’t even considered the things he said to you, the things you had to heard because of him, how much you had to suffer.
Yes, you truly despise him and he is the reason behind that.
As you kept on walking out of the library, not sparing a glance back at him, unwilling to linger in the aftermath of his intensity.
“You are a fucking jerk, Jeon Jungkook and I hope you know that.”
The damage was done, and the scars of his callousness lingered.
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Note: Let me know your thoughts on this and also, help me out with making the decision about if I should make this into a series or not. Like, is it worth it? Please let me know!!
copyright ©2024, jksian on tumblr. no revisions, translations, or reposting allowed.
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atlaswav · 2 months
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FIRESIDE ✦
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INFO: atla jet x gn! reader drabble, 1.4k words...... (bad writing i'm not proud💀) SYNOPSIS: you're the damsel in distress that falls for your saving grace. or: delusion WARNINGS: tiny bit of blood AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read (it wasn't supposed to be this long), I wrote this post without making it a proper fic to make up for the lack of jet fanfictions anywhere please take my contribution 😞 listen to fireside by the arctic monkeys 👍
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You're a travelling merchant dealing in handmade weapons. Your craft is passed down in your family, and you recently left your hometown on your own for the first time to travel to Ba Sing Se to make a living there.
The day you two first met, you'd been on your horse all day, dragging behind you a creaky stand containing your life’s worth of materials and weapons (rattling with each step – it was beginning to grate on your nerves) with no signs of the glaring sun easing on your weary limbs. So when the forest suddenly falls far too silent for your liking, you don’t even notice in your heat stricken malady.
It’s only when a group of bandits abruptly seizes the reins of your horse, sawing loose your saddle straps when you realise you’re under attack. But by then, they’re already beginning to rifle through your belongings as you fall unceremoniously onto the hard dirt path, wincing as a bandit grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you up. 
You reach for the sword at your belt – the one that you crafted yourself under the guidance of your father once he’d deemed you skilled enough – but you didn’t even need to draw it before a bird call sounded amidst the cacophonous riot.
Emerging from the thick treeline, a band of – kids? Jumped out, wielding perilously sharp and comically large weapons for their ages and sizes. The bandits scoffed at their appearance, brandishing their vicious looking blades at the children who charged at them. 
Then the vice-like grip on your shoulders eased, and a hand appeared in the peripherals of your vision.
As you took the hand being offered – calloused and rough, yet warm – your saviour gave you a cursory glance, checking you for injury. When he finally met your gaze, you both froze in place.
Warm eyes, tanned skin, dark, unruly hair that loosely framed his face. In his other hand he held two long, hooked swords that gleamed in the harsh light. 
Jet couldn’t tell whether you were simply shocked or there was something wrong – either way, there was a fight surging around you, and there was no time for greetings and formalities.
(if you looked for any longer, you’d have seen the slight blush dusting his cheeks)
“Behind,” You had no time to process his meaning before he stepped in front of you, meeting the serrated blade of the bandit with his own weapons in a deafening clash of steel. You quickly drew your sword and slashed at the arm of another bandit whose club soared a high arc above Jet’s head, eliciting a howl of pain as they dropped the club onto the ground and scrambled for the trees.
You two seemed to make a pretty good pair. 
After the dust had settled, he offered you his flask of water, chest heaving, hair clinging to his forehead with perspiration, with a grin playing across his face.
“Thank you.” You take it, drinking your fill before capping the container. “But who are you?”
“We’re the freedom fighters.” His companions wave at you as they attempt to salvage the wreckage of your goods (which you supposed you should’ve also been doing, but you’d had a long day).
“And you?”
“They call me Jet.” he smiles, a glint in his eyes. “But you can call me whatever you want.”
I hate myself for writing that line but I can’t think of another thing for him to say
Anyway time skip a little, he showed you to the freedom fighter’s hideout, and you decide to pay them back for saving you by giving their weapons a little maintenance
They offer you further kindness by inviting you to stay for dinner, to which you accept – what choice did you have after the bandits spoiled most of your food on the ground?
You sharpen some swords, polish some daggers, and share a meal with the ragtag freedom fighters around the fire, laughing along with crude jokes shared about clumsy bandits. 
Then Jet comes up to you with his hooked swords hanging loosely from his grip – offering them to you for maintenance – and your curiosity gets the better of you.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” You observe the craftsmanship of his swords, testing their balance, running your finger along the blade’s hooked ends.
“Pretty neat, huh? They’re Tiger Blades. Traditional weapon.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“Stole it from a firebending soldier.”
You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “You fight off firebending soldiers regularly?”
A grin. “When the job calls for it.”
“That’s not… dangerous?”
“You’ve seen me fight, haven’t you?”
In the firelight, his eyes are alight with molten gold. 
“So your job isn’t just saving random people from bandits?”
He laughs, and the sound fills the air between you with warmth. 
“I wouldn’t say you’re a random person,” you look up, but his gaze is cast into the fire, unreadable. 
When he doesn’t say anything further, you sustain the silence, only rummaging through your bags to find another stone to sharpen his blade with before the thought occurs to you. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Ah, I’d rather not try to sharpen this blade. I don’t know how.” you attempt to hand it back, but he stops you.
“I can show you,” he leaves the unspoken question hanging in the air, watching you with a certain hopefulness in his eyes.
You nod wordlessly, and you hand him the stone, watching him tie his hair up. His brows furrow as he angles the blade, quickly running the stone along its edge. But you can’t focus on the blade – not really – as the firelight illuminates his features, basking them in a soft glow. 
“It’s not that hard – well it won’t be, for someone as experienced as you.” 
You’re grateful for the dim light, or he would’ve seen the blush highlighting your cheeks. 
“You just guide the stone along the edge as usual,” he absently says under his breath, “and use more force here.”
You nod blankly as he turns back to you, handing you the blade and the stone. 
“There you go.” 
You move to grab the handle of the blade, but your finger catches on its edge, drawing blood.
“Shit,” you lick the blood off your finger, wincing slightly as it rapidly flows out. 
“Sorry, I –”
“No, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t careful.” you shake your hand, grimacing at the throbbing pain. 
“Smellerbee, could you fetch the bandages?”
“What? Why me?”
“Just – do it. Please.”
Smellerbee grumbles something under his breath as he leaves.
You nurse your injured finger as it pulsates, face drawn in pain.
“You have a little something –” 
“Huh?” your gaze flickers between him and your finger, unsure of what he means. 
“Here,” his fingers graze your chin as he wipes off blood from your face – from the initial injury, when you tried to lick up the blood from your wound. 
Your face heats up as his touch lingers, skimming across your chin to your cheek. 
He’s utterly captivated, it seems. 
“Am I interrupting something?”
He snatches his hand away with a look of guilt, and you turn away. “Ah. Smellerbee.”
“...I’ll leave the bandages here.”
“Thanks.”
“.........Don’t mention it.”
He bandages your finger with deft movements. Neither of you speak a word, but nothing needs to be said. The tension between you is electric, and any onlooker can tell with a mere glance (especially after Smellerbee went and groaned about the two of you to Pipsqueak and Longshot).
After he bandages your finger, he gets up from his place at the fire. 
“You’re staying the night, right?” 
You nod.
“Smellerbee will show you to your tent.” your disappointment must be visible on your face, because he huffs a laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t. I have duties to attend to. But you’ll be here for breakfast, right?”
You nod. He seemed to have that speechless effect on you.
“Right then, uh, goodnight.” he smiles, appearing to hesitate for a moment before walking off. 
“You guys are gross.” Smellerbee mutters from beside you. 
“What?”
“Gross. Look at what you do to him. And don’t you give me that clueless look or I swear.”
Neither of you could sleep that night.
(but when you woke up there was a bright basket of fresh berries arranged with little flowers throughout it at the door of your tent. You can only wonder who sent it, and why there was a note reading “sorry about your finger, please let me make it up to you.”)
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written by @atlaswav, published 3rd of March 2024
405 notes · View notes
leaentries · 4 months
Text
shield | nico hischier
summary: nico is very protective of his girl, so when someone hurts her, he takes it personally.
warnings: protective nico, physical harassment, swearing, slight violent themes
wc: 1.6k+
a/n: another 3am nico fic 🕺 this one’s a lil bit heavier than most of my nico fics, but don’t worry! i have some new spicy things coming up!
the captain’s girl masterlist
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The bar was jammed. Sweaty bodies pressed into every corner of the bricked building, the heat almost unbearable. A door in the back, propped open was your only solace, serving nicely with the winter air wafting in. Although, despite the sticky air and stench of beer, you couldn’t be happier.
You stood by Nico’s side, practically glued to him, not that he would complain. Nico loved the feeling of your body against his, it brought him comfort knowing you were safely tucked away from the world. He was over the moon, still riding the high of tonight’s win. It was a solid win too. Nico got out with a 3-point night, his ego soaring.
Now, you would never admit this sober, but you loved when he got cocky. The way his body demeanor would change and he would have a special swagger in his step. The sexy smirk that never seemed to leave his face every time his gleaming eyes would settle down to yours. It was almost embarrassing the grasp this man had on you, but you loved every second of it. 
His dark shirt clung tightly to his sweaty body, the heat around you two making a visible impression. 
You sat next to him at a table with some of the team, celebrating their win. Seeing the wide smile on Nico’s face made you want to take everything bad in the world and toss it away. That way Nico could smile forever. 
His arm rested on your thigh, corded with thick veins, squeezed slightly, just as reassurance. You squeezed his hand back. 
“You know, I still can’t believe that Merc just left like that! I was in the middle of talking too. What an ass.”
You looked over to where Jack’s voice echoed. His annoyed face set on where Dawson was talking to some girl near the bar. You felt a chuckle rise in your throat, causing you to shove your face into Nico’s arm in an attempt to smother it. 
Nico looked down at you with amused eyes, “What’s so funny, schatzi?”
You let out a breath, shaking your head, “Nothing much, Neeks. Just Jacky.” 
Nico glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who was still complaining to his, very bored, little brother. He nodded his head slowly in understanding. When he turned back to the table, he noticed your tired eyes. 
“You tired, pretty? You’ve been awfully quiet.” 
This was true, but only because you enjoyed watching Nico so much. To you, that was more entertaining than talking. 
“Yep, I’m all good!” You gave him a big smile. Nico searched your eyes for any insincerity but failed to find any. Accepting your answer, he turned back to Holtz, engaging in a spirited conversation about certain plays during the game. 
After half an hour or so, your drink had finally run out, your empty cup now urging to be filled. You nudged Nico’s arm, gaining his attention. 
“I’m gonna go get a refill,” You shook your empty cup, proving your point. 
His brows furrowed, “Want me to come with you?” His eyes flickered to the large number of people, “It’s a bit crowded over by the bar.” 
You smiled at his concern, but denied his request, “No thank you, baby. I’ll be fine.” 
He hesitantly agreed, placing a kiss on your temple and a quick, “Be careful,” as you left. 
Shimmying your way through the dense population proved to be a lot harder than you originally anticipated, getting bumped back and forth violently. By the time you had reached the bar, you could have sworn you had whiplash.
Quickly flagging down a bartender, you ordered your drink and secured a spot to wait. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by the obvious male gazes from every direction. You could only hope that one didn’t have the balls to approach you, but alas, luck wasn’t on your side tonight. 
A lean man, of about 5’8, approached you, clearly too inebriated to be thinking correctly. His scruff was patchy and gross, the tell-tail signs of a failed attempt at growing a beard. His red shirt loosely hung on his body, beer wetting the sides of it. At least, you hoped it was beer. He stumbled into the slot beside you, almost on top of you. 
“Hey, sexy. What’s your name?” His voice was grating, not a sultry tone to be heard. You found yourself repulsed by his presence, now desperately wishing Nico had come with you.
“None of your business, but thanks for asking.” You gave him a snide smile, hoping he would take the very obvious hint that you weren’t interested. 
“Whoa, attitude, missy. I just asked your name.”
“And I don’t care.” You rolled your eyes, the strange man not making an effort to leave.
“Damn, if you’re this feisty all the time, I know a much better way to put that mouth to use.”  
Fear pitted deep in your stomach at the dark look on the man’s face. Needing toi escape, you tried to make a move to leave, but he blocked your way, now caging you to the bar top. Your breath picked up in a panic, frantically searching for someone to help. It was far too loud to call for anyone and everyone around you was already preoccupied with their own conversations. 
Deciding to fight back, you lifted your arm to slap the man who was rapidly approaching you. His hand came up to grip your arm harshly, drawing a hiss from your lips as pain spiked through your wrist. Tears sprung in your eyes as you tried your hardest to free yourself from the man’s body. You felt helpless as your voice died in your throat, shutting your eyes tightly.
You prepared yourself for the worst until you felt the man’s weight abruptly leave. Your eyes shot open, seeing a blur of the man get thrown to the ground. The familiar figure of your boyfriend towered over the cowering stranger. 
Nico reached down, gripping the man’s collar, dragging him to his feet, and slamming him against the nearest wall. 
“What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” Nico’s eyes were ablaze with fury, a hard look resting on his once-happy face. 
“I-I don’t know man,” The stranger was gasping, obviously terrified of the much larger man holding him to the wall, “I was just trying to get some pussy, like every other guy in the bar.” His meek words only fueled Nico’s anger. 
“Don’t you ever fucking touch my woman like that again. Don’t ever touch any woman like that. You’re a fucking pussy.” Nico’s voice was laced with disgust as he spat at the man. Holtz and Jack rushed over, attempting to pull Nico away. He dropped the guy, worry for you now seeping into his clouded mind. 
Nico was by your side within seconds, pulling your shaking form into his arms. He tucked you under his chin, tightly holding you, “It’s okay, schatzi,” He brought up a hand to cradle your head, “You’re okay. I’m here now, Nico’s here.” 
You let out a slight sob, your arms recoiling into your body as you gingerly held your bruising wrist. Nico pulled away, eyes desperately raking your body to determine the cause of your pain. Once his eyes settled on your wrist, he held out his hand, silently asking to inspect the damage.
Nico felt a new wave of anger take over his body, now practically shaking as he tried his hardest to not go beat the shit out of the guy. The man had hurt you. Hurt his girl. If it were up to Nico, that guy wouldn’t be breathing right now, but fortunately for the stranger, murder is illegal. Nico carefully guided your body to the exit, not bothering to bid goodbyes. 
Only once the two of you hit the cold parking lot and the adrenaline started to wear off, did you fully begin to comprehend the severity of what had happened. A fresh batch of tears formed in your eyes,  sobs rapidly pouring from your lips. Your body shook with the pure force of the cries that pierced their way through Nico’s chest.
He immediately pulled you tightly into his body, making sure to be mindful of your wrist. Nico felt his own tears well up in his eyes at your pain. He hated that he couldn’t help you, but he hated even more that he was in the building when it happened and didn’t get to you soon enough.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Nico sniffed, “It’s all my fault this happened.” 
You shook your head against his chest, slightly pulling away to look into his deeply saddened eyes, “No, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t control.” 
“I knew I should have gone with you. If I was there then he wouldn’t have hurt you.” He looked away biting his lip as he tried not to cry. His broken voice stabbed your heart. It was gut-wrenching to see Nico blame himself for what that man did. 
“Stop, Nico. It was not your fault,” You held his face gently, forcing him to meet your eyes, “Please, stop blaming yourself. I chose to go by myself, that’s not on you.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you were too quick, “Don’t say anything else. Please, for me? Stop.” 
He nodded slowly as tears silently slid down his cheeks. Nico reached up, carefully cradling your wrist that was near his face, leaning to place a sweet kiss on the black and blue splotches.
 “Let me get you home, schatzi. Wanna take care of you.” 
942 notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 4 months
Note
Hey!
I’m really bad at explaining stuff so bare with me haha😂
I was thinking that reader is a virgin and has never even kissed anyone, then she starts dating Eddie and he’s her first everything…
Then someday while they’re having sex, Wayne walks in on them and then he tries to talk to them about being safe and something like that 😅
omg, this is so heavily inspired by my own experience...Are you in my walls? this is literally my experience with my current bf now...How did you know?!
Cw: This is NOT a fic about corruption kink. Angst, fluff, f!reader, readers first time (oral, fingering, p in v penetration) , reader and Eddie are 22. Happy ending 🤭
Word count: 7.2k oops
The Sweet Days in the Shire | Eddie Munson x F!Reader
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*Five years ago*
"I'm going to die alone," You groaned.
Were you being dramatic? Yes. But you were seventeen and truly felt like the most undesirable girl. No one had ever shown any interest in you. Your best guy friend, Eddie, was trying to convince you otherwise.
You had known Eddie since first grade but only got to know him once you went into tenth grade.
"Come on, don't be like that" Eddie spoke.
You were hanging out in the Shire, a.k.a. Eddie's bedroom, reviewing the new DND campaign, making sure there were no significant loopholes the others could get through.
"It's true! No guy had ever liked me like that, or if they have, they're all weird, and I don't like them back... Remember Lorne? He told me he liked me out of the blue when I hadn't spoken one word to him.'"
Eddie chuckled.
"It's not funny, Eddie! What was I supposed to say? I hardly knew the guy."
"I'm sorry. You're right. It's not funny." But he was still laughing.
"Ugggggggh," you rested your head back in defeat.
"So what if non of these shitty high school guys aren't interested? You're way out of their league."
"You're just saying that as my best friend."
"I'm really not. They are all douchebags or interested in anything other than getting a girlfriend."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Where do you fall in that line?"
"I'm different." He smirked.
All you could do was roll your eyes. Of course, Eddie was different. He was Eddie. Your Eddie. Eddie, who you sprung a teeny tiny crush on within the last couple of months.
"I feel like such a loser, Eds. I'm seventeen and haven't even had my first kiss." You admit, softly.
"What?" This caught Eddie by surprise.
"You heard me." You mumbled.
"Impossible."
"Well, I'm not lying." You snap.
"Don't believe you"
"Well, you don't think I would have told you if some guy came up to me and planted one on me?" You folded into yourself. Succumbing to your self-depreciation.
Why didn't he believe you? Was it really that hard to believe that you were such a loser that no one has even ever tried to kiss you?
"Okayyy. So what if I helped you with that?" he pushed you back up.
"What?"
"I mean-shit- you obviously don't have to; you probably don't want to kiss me. We are just friends. But if you want to get it over with, you can...-I can help you." He rambled.
"Okay," You answered without thinking. You've wanted to kiss Eddie for months. You wanted him to be your first.
"Yea?"
You nodded your head, afraid of what might come out of your mouth next.
"Uh-okay"
You both shift, so you're facing one another. You don't move, unsure of how to approach this. Eddie was much more experienced than you. He probably already lost his virginity at this point. But the two of you never spoke about that.
So here you were, sitting on his bedroom floor, with your eyes closed, like a statue, until Eddie leaned in. You felt his warm, plush lips against yours. Butterflies soared in your stomach. It was just like everyone always described it to be. You felt the connection, that spark. The kiss felt like it lasted hours when, in reality, it was nothing more than a peck. But as far as first kisses go, you were convinced it was the best.
"Wow," you let slip when he pulled away.
Eddie chuckled softly and leaned back on the bed like nothing had happened.
Your stomach dropped at the realization that you and Eddie were, in fact, just friends. He didn't feel the connection you had.
"Thanks," you managed to get out without your voice cracking in disappointment.
"Anytime, Pip." He smiled and then went back to the DND campaign...
To add more salt to your wound, Eddie was arm-in-arm with Veronica a week later. Eddie had never even mentioned interest in her. You spoke every day. You never once hear him display any interest in a girl... another girl when not even six days ago he was kissing you in his bedroom. And that's when you decided to distance yourself from Eddie Munson.
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*Present Day*
After a very long four years of college out of state, you were back in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Freshly twenty-two, you finally blossomed into the young woman you were meant to be. At college, you got to find yourself and your people. Once you had found your confidence, you grew into yourself. You had got a haircut that flattered your face and styled yourself with clothes that made you feel comfortable and confident. Before, it used to be all-black jeans and band tees that hid your figure. But now you find wearing skirts, dresses, and colours even fun!
You used to be a late bloomer, but now you have gained many life experiences. However, you still need help in the love department. Your college years had been your party girl era, for sure. However, nothing ever went past a makeout session in the bar because you weren't like that... you wanted to have sex with someone you trusted, who you loved. Not some random stranger.
So here you were, back home in the early days of summer, and you were out job hunting. You'd been out on Main Street, in and out of stores, looking to see who was hiring, handing out your resume for about half an hour.
The sun was scorching for this time of year, causing you to start sweating and feel uncomfortable without air conditioning. As you walked by the local record store, you noticed they were advertising a job opening, and it felt like fate. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped inside the cool store. The door chimes jingled, announcing to anyone who was around that a customer had arrived. The store appeared empty, with not a soul in sight.
"Hello?" Your voice filled the empty air. "Hello?" You repeated once again a minute later with no reply.
"I'm here to apply for the job?" You peek around the back of the counter. As you looked over, you noticed a slightly open door. A figure passed by, but they didn't seem to notice you. As you looked over, you noticed a slightly open door. A figure passed by, but they didn't seem to notice you.
You respectfully waited a few more minutes but were becoming impatient. You decided to round the back of the counter and knock on the door labelled Staff Only.
"Excuse me." You knock and push it open a little further so you can see inside the staff room.
You notice a young man facing away from you, wearing headphones covering his ears. The loud guitar and bass sound emanates from the headphones. It's no surprise that he couldn't hear you.
"Excuse me?" You say a little louder, but it doesn't seem helpful. You sigh and walk up to him, hoping he doesn't take a swing at you for sneaking up on him.
Apprehensively, you tap the man's shoulder twice before stepping back quickly before they can react.
"What the fuck?" They rip off the headphones, and your stomach drops as you recognize the voice. Your prediction is confirmed as Eddie turns around with a frightened look on his face.
"You can't be back h-" He cuts himself when the reality of who he was talking to hits him.
"Eddie?" you cock your head in curiosity.
"Oh my God, Pippin?" he smiled brightly.
It had been four years since the last time you saw him. You briefly crossed paths in the hallways of Hawkins High, but the two of you hadn't spoken more than a sentence to each other since the day he kissed you. It was nice to hear his voice again.
"Hi," You smiled.
Eddie swore he heard angels singing when you spoke. You looked different, good, but different. More confident. More like yourself.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Trying to apply for the job posting. I've been waiting ten minutes in the store calling out for someone like a moron." You giggled.
"Shit, sorry, I was just on my break." He scratched the back of his head, letting his bicep flex in his tight band tee.
You tried your best not to stare at him, but your attraction to Eddie lingered. He looked really good, having filled out more and grown out more facial hair than he had in high school. He still, however, had his pretty wavy locks. They were just a bit shorter than you were used to.
"Oh, sorry, I can come back later."
"No!" He blurted out. "I mean, it's really good to see you..."
"It's nice seeing you too; it's been a long time," you shy.
"Yeah" He sighed.
"So are you the person I need to talk to about the job or..." You try to fill the awkward silence.
"Shit, yeah, I guess so. I'm, uh, the manager." He cleared his throat.
"Wow, manager, very impressive! Moving on up in the world, Munson," You laugh.
"Watch is missy; you want the job or not?" He slung his arm around your shoulder and walked you back out to the front of the store.
You couldn't help the shiver that broke through your body when his arm made contact with you. It didn't help that he also smelled delicious.
"Well, if it means I get to work alongside you? ... Yeah, I want it," You flirt.
"Oh, I see buttering up an old confidant for a job." He smirked.
"Things with Eddie returned to normal as if nothing had ever changed. Like you never left. Like he never kissed you, then broke your naive teenage heart.
"Well, the job is yours if you want it." He smiled.
"Just like that?" You ask in shock.
"Just like that. I don't wanna go through all that paperwork and boring questions. I know you, trust you. It's full-time. $5.50 an hour. So it's yours if you think you can stand working with me daily."
"I think I can manage that."
"Great. We can start training tomorrow at 10:00am."
"Deal." You reached out to shake his hand, but Eddie only stared at it like you were crazy.
"Come on, Pippin, a handshake? Who do you think I am? Bring it in." He opened his arms up to embrace you in a hug.
Pippin. No one but Eddie called you that. It was a nickname he gave you in the tenth grade because you were smaller than him... He said Pippin was the best hobbit from his favourite book.
"You know I could have robbed the store, and you wouldn't have known a thing," you quip, trying to play off the way your breath hitched when you embraced him.
Your hormones would have to chill if you were going to work together.
"That's why security cameras were invented, sweetheart."
"Oh," You shied away. You weren't as clever as you had thought.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he guides you out the door.
"Bye, Eddie." You smile.
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Over the next three weeks, you and Eddie picked up where you had left off all those years ago. Things were good, great even. The flame that had been blown out was brought back to life and hotter than ever. There was an extreme tension between the two of you.
However, you both were avoiding the elephant in the room. It was fine until it wasn't. It was eating at Eddie. He loved having you back, but needed to know why you left and ended the friendship.
You were stocking up the new supply of jazz cassettes that came in when you felt Eddie come up behind you.
"Hey, so -uh- what happened?" he leaned back on the shelving, as he crossed his arms.
"What do you mean?" you chirp. Did you do something wrong? Was the till not even?
"With us, I mean, one day we were best buds, and then the next you were just... gone. I really missed you."
Oh, so we are having this conversation. You knew it was inevitable.
"You mean you really don't know?"
"Know what?"
"God, men are dumb," you mumbled under your breath.
"Hey! I heard that"
"Good." You deadpan.
Eddie stared at you blankly.
"You kissed me, Eddie. That meant something to me. Then you were with Veronica a week later..."
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what?" Eddie's eyes went wide with confusion.
"Eddie..." You sighed. This conversation was giving you a headache.
"Pip, I didn't? I wouldn't. I-"
"Forget it, Eddie. It was a long time ago."
"Did you like me or something?" He genuinely asked.
"Or something," You mumbled back.
"Pip, I'm sorry I didn't know... I had no idea you liked me like that. I would have never offered to kiss you if I had known. I never wanted to lead you on."
"It's okay, Eddie. We were seventeen. I eventually got over it, but I had to not be around you to do that. I'm sorry I ran away... I missed you. Like a lot."
"Pip-" Eddie began, but a customer was ready to be rung up at the counter.
The rest of the day was busy, and your shift ended before Eddie's did today. So you quickly said goodbye and waited to talk to him the next day.
Eddie needed to make things right between you. What you had once was so good, and now it seems to be even better than before. Eddie was becoming infatuated with you. He got excited to go to work when you were on schedule. He loved making you laugh; seeing that beautiful smile across your face was his favourite pastime. He could have had that all these years, but it was all ruined for some hot piece of ass Eddie got for a few weeks in their senior year.
Eddie had met Veronica in his grade twelve English class. She was way out of his league, so when she agreed to go out with him, he was only thinking with his dick.
He was thinking about her and how she would be on his knees for him when he kissed you for funsies. He was not thinking about how it would have affected you. He was a selfish teenage boy being controlled by his hormones. Because of that, Eddie was now facing the consequences of his actions all because he wanted to get his dick wet in the twelfth grade.
“Hey Pip, can I talk to you for a sec?” Eddie greeted you when he walked in for his shift mid-afternoon.
“Sure what’s up?” Things were a little rocky since yesterday and you didn’t know where you stood.
God what was this so hard? Why did you make him nervous?
“I uh. I was hoping we could hang out… you know. Outside of work. If you wanted. I wanted to make up for being an ass.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.
"Okay." you smiled.
"Awesome! We are both off on Friday… I made sure.” Eddie said with a goofy smile. God, you were so falling for him again.
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You and Eddie have been spending time together outside work every chance you have had for the past six months. He invited you to see your old high school crowd the first few times, and then it slowly became more one-on-ones. Unfortunately for you, your ever-growing crush on Eddie had come back and was stronger than ever.
You hated yourself for falling for him again, but you couldn't help yourself. He was just so charming, boisterous, funny, and not to mention the most attractive man you've seen. Eddie was a natural flirt; he always was throwing compliments your way. He always knew how to make you blush.
That evening during closing, Eddie offered you to come over to The Shire. a.k.a his trailer. After a long, tiring day, both of you wanted some relaxation. He suggested staying in and having a cozy evening with pizza, beers, and perhaps a little weed to escape the cold November weather.
As the night progressed, it began to snow, and a snowstorm was predicted for later in the evening.
"Do you want your usual order, Pip?" Eddie turned his head to glance at you. You were standing near the front door, taking off your hat, scarf, and jacket. As he was watching you, he got lost in your graceful movements. Suddenly, he realized he was staring at you and almost bumped into his fridge.
"Yeah," you shiver. You almost thought about putting your coat back on, but that would be silly. "Can I borrow a sweater or a blanket?" You asked sweetly.
"Of course, sweetheart." Eddie didn't miss the way your nipples perked out of your low-cut t-shirt when you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to warm up, but it only emphasized your breasts.
"Where is Wayne tonight?" You asked.
"He has an overnight shift tonight; he probably just left not too long ago." He said as he disappeared into his bedroom to find you a clean hoodie.
"I'm sorry, I missed him; I haven't seen that guy in years." You huffed. You loved Wayne; he was like a second dad.
"Yeah, he keeps talking you up like I don't already know how amazing you are." He threw the black hoodie at your head.
"Hey!"
I just gave you my sweater and a compliment, I think you should be thanking me."
"Shut up and order the pizza before the storm, Munson." You laugh as you pull the sweater over your head.
You and Eddie settled in, splitting a six-pack of cheap beer and delicious pizza. You wanted to watch a movie after dinner, so Eddie found a few stashed away that he still had yet to return to Family Video.
"How do you feel about horror?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
"You know I don't like scary movies, Eds." You whine.
"Well, hate to break it to you, sweetcheeks, but this is all we got, so it's either this... or cable that will most likely be down within the next half hour if the weather keeps up." You glanced out the window, and if you didn't leave now, you were not making it home tonight. The storm had started a lot earlier than anticipated.
"Oh shit, it's awful out. I didn't think it would be this bad so soon! I should go... shit, I've been drinking, we both have! We can't drive!" You started freaking out.
"Pip, you can always crash here. I don't mind." He offered.
"Are you sure?" You twiddled with the drawstrings of the hoodie.
"Of course! You think I would let you go out there?"
"Well... no."
"We can share my bed". He said nonchalantly.
Was he insane?! You can share a bed... with him... you'll want to do things with him. You can't take the rejection again.
"Umm."
"Well, I would sleep on the pull-out couch by Wayne sleeps there."
"It's okay... we are both adults," You swallowed. "Hey, do you have any more beer?" You needed a drink. Desperately.
"Oh, so we are having one of those nights? Edie wiggled his brows at you, and you rolled your eyes in return.
"I need liquid courage for these movies you're going to put me through," You fibbed.
"Don't worry, Pip. I'll protect you."
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Two movies and many screams later, you called it. You were maxed out on the spooky stuff. Halloween was long gone, and you were supposed to be in Christmas mode.
"You can get ready for bed first. I'll follow after. Eddie offered.
You slipped into Edie's hoodie and got under the covers, realizing the sweater was long enough to be worn as a nightgown. Eddie would be none the wiser that you had forgone pants.
You called for Eddie to enter, and he got ready for bed. You tried to pretend to occupy yourself as you watched Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. He pulled his plaid pyjama pants over his boxers and forgone a shirt.
There was tension in the air, but neither of you said anything. You held your breath as Eddie turned off the bedroom light and felt the bed dip as he got in.
"Pip?" Eddie broke the silence moments later.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?'
"Sure."
"Did you ever date anyone when you went away?"
"No"
"No?"
"Well...I went on one date, and he was shorter than me..." You laughed at how ridiculous it was. You didn't even like him, but you felt bad because you agreed to give him your number when you were out dancing one night, and you'd consumed a little too much alcohol.
"How is that even possible?"
"Well, you see, Edward everyone has different heights an-"
"No, you doofus," he laughed. "how is it possible you never dated anyone? You're beautiful." He says like it’s obvious.
Eddie made you feel fluttery when he called you beautiful.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful, Pip," Eddie repeated. "You’re a total catch; how are you still single?”
“Guess I never met the right guy…”
“Oh... " It was quiet for a moment then Eddie spoke again. "I know you always said you uh- wanted to you know…. Wait for the right guy and all… so have you slept with anyone since you were gone?”
“Eddie!” you cry, covering your face with your hands. You’re so mortified by this conversation.
“I’m sorry! Can’t blame a guy for his morbid curiosity.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“I can’t believe you remembered that. I mentioned it once six years ago.”
“I remember every thing when it comes to you.”
You felt his fingers intertwine with yours.
“Eddie…” you whisper.
“Yea”
"Ask me again."
"Are you still a virgin?"
You let out a deep sigh before you answered. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And I want you to be my first.” you blurt out at a mile a minute.
“Pippin-”
“Just don’t go off with another girl next week or else I’m going to have to quit” you chuckle uncomfortably.
“Are you sure? Because if we start this I’m never going to want to let you go… not ever again.” He rolled over to face you.
“I’m so sure, Eddie, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You rolled to face him.
You didn’t know where this bravery was coming from. Maybe it was the combination of alcohol and being in the dark, but something sparked inside of you that you couldn’t put out.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please”
You both moved in tandem as your lips collided. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes that all lead you to this moment, this perfect moment. Eddie and you always belonged together.
“I missed you so much,” Eddie spoke into your mouth as he shifted to hover over you.
“I missed you too. I missed you so much.” You grabbed for him, to touch and feel him. Your hands gripped his hair at the back of his head.
“Baby,” Eddie sat up and slinked his hands under his sweatshirt up your bare middle.
Baby. Goosebumps spread across your body from his touch. His calloused fingers lightly scratched your soft skin, and his hands travelled further up until his fingertips grazed your breasts.
“Can I take this off?”
“Yes,” The temperature in the room suddenly increased, making you feel extremely hot. The hoodie you were wearing became suffocating.
“Sit up for me, baby. Arms up.” You obliged and felt nervous that you were basically naked in front of Eddie. You pull your arms out of the sweater and cover yourself immediately.
“No, baby, please, don’t hide from me.” He gently peels your arms away from your body. “Beautiful,” He whispers with eyes full of lust.
You reached out to cup his face so you could kiss him again. You needed to distract yourself from the fact that you were naked in front of someone for the first time. Your kisses felt rushed and needy like you would die without them.
"Slow down, Pip, we have all the time in the world." Eddie coxed you back down into the plush pillows of his bed. "I'm going to take good care of you. okay?"
You nod your head yes to let him know you understand. The room was dark, but the street light peaked through the blinds. You could hear your heartbeat along with the howl of the wind from the snowstorm. You looked over to the clock. It read 12:18am. Wayne won't be home until early morning, at least 6:00am, especially in a storm like this.
Eddie leaned forward to kiss you again, travelling his lips down your body with each peck. His mouth found your neck, and he sucked on it, making your hips jerk up into him. You could feel his erection against your leg, which only excited you more.
He made his way lower once satisfied with the marking he left on your skin. He nipped and licked and peppered your sensitive chest before latching his mouth around a perked nipple. How Eddie fantasized about this very moment for months. To him, your boobs were perfect. The way your soft skin felt under his tongue, it was like they were made for him.
You let out a squeak, embarrassed by the noises you held back. You didn't know if this was normal? To want to make sounds while Eddie's mouth discovered your body.
"Don't be shy, baby. You can let it go. Get loud. I want to hear you."
"Are you sure, Eddie? Is that like... normal?"
"Oh god, yes, it's like music to my ears... Would it make you feel better if I shared with you what I like?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well." He clasped your hand, intertwining your fingers as he rested his chin on your upper stomach. "I like it when the person I'm with makes noises; it lets me know I'm doing well. I like it when the person I'm with takes compliments and praises. I like it when the person I'm with calls me certain names, but we will save that for another time. And I like it when I get to be in charge... like right now."
"What kind of names?" You bite your lower lip.
"Ah ah, naughty girl. You'll find out eventually. But not tonight." Eddie promised.
"Eventually?" your heart perked up with hope.
"You think this is going to be a one-and-done? You're sadly mistaken, Pip." He shifted his weight and started back up, loving your body. Worshiping it with a thousand kisses. Lower, lower, lower until he reached the hem of your plain black panties.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” His hand cupped your panty-covered cunt.
“No.” you shiver.
“I’m honoured to be your first” He slowly started to guide and move his hand over your clothed pussy, massaging it. Exploring what makes your body jerk and tick. You let out a gasp as his soft touch grazed over your already swollen clit.
"That's my girl." he cooed as his hand travelled up and under the hemline of your underwear.
His hand slid down your soft, manicured mound before finding your slit. He let one singular finger travel down your clit to collect the wetness that had pooled and dragged it back up to play with you some more.
"Oh my god," You yelped as the unfamiliar but wonderful feeling of Eddie's hands explored your body.
"You're so wet, sweetheart. This all for me?" He raised his hand to examine the clear, wet, slippery substance that coated his fingers. He then stuck his fingers in his mouth before his eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned at the taste of you.
You were curious if you should be turned on or grossed out by Eddie's behaviour. "You taste like heaven." He praised you, and your body ultimately decided for you. You were turned on.
"Please touch me," You barely whisper. You bravely started to take off your panties when Eddie's hands stopped you.
"That's my favourite part." His hands replaced yours, and he watched intently as he stripped you down into nothing.
You were now fully naked in front of Eddie. You were a bit nervous, but not overly concerned. You trusted Eddie because you've gotten to know each other better over the past six months.
"My god, you're beautiful," He praised once again. You don't think you will ever get tired of him saying that. Your heart soared each time without fail.
"So are you," You whispered back and swore you saw Eddie blush.
Eddie's hands found your needy pussy once more. He wiggled his way down the bed, and he played with your clit until his face was level with your cunt. You felt so exposed you wanted to close your legs right away. But you also wanted to know what it felt like to have Eddie's mouth on your most intimate area.
"Show me how you play with yourself."
This shocked you, and your body froze. How could he ask you to do such a crass thing? Eddie sure was pushing a lot of your boundaries tonight.
"Come on, sweetheart. It's okay, perfectly natural."
You didn't want to disappoint him, so with a trembling hand, you started to circle your clit like always. The feeling started as a mild ache in your lower stomach, but it began to rise as you continued. Your worries and apprehensions slowly drifted away as the feeling of pleasure wafted through your body.
"You never push your fingers inside?" Eddie was mesmerized by the sight in front of him.
You shake your head no. "Doesn't feel right." You were too afraid to finger yourself in the past, not wanting to push the limits; you knew how to please yourself from clit stimulation alone.
"I'm about to change that." Eddie replaced your hand with his mouth, and you cried out in pleasure. This new feeling of something hot and wet consuming your pussy made your eyes involuntarily roll back into your head.
"Yes, good girl, let me hear you." He latched his mouth back onto your clit. His tongue circled and flicked your swollen bud until you were on the edge. You were so close, then his finger slowly entered you, and that took on a whole new feeling. His fingers were longer and wider than your own. He stretched and reached further than you have ever experienced.
"Holy shit!" You cried as his fingers pushed deep inside you. Eddie was careful to go slowly. His middle finger pumped in and out of you before he added another. As his finger worked inside of you, you felt a wave of pleasure from a spot you hadn't ever felt before. It made you cry out embarrassingly loud.
"Ohhhh, good job babygirl." He chuckled smugly. Eddie knew that he had found your one spot that would make you see stars. So, he continuously grazed over it again and again.
You didn't know what was happening to you; your body was undulating under Eddie's touch. He struggled to keep your hips pinned down as he continued to devour your pussy. You couldn't think; you couldn't form words. Your brain had gone into a cloudy haze that focused only on your body and how Eddie was making you feel.
No wonder everyone raved about sex.
"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" You didn't even know you were talking.
“That’s it, baby, say my name.”
"Eddie!" Your body clenched, and every muscle in your contract as your orgasm ripped through you. Waves of pleasure pulsed as Eddie's mouth and fingers continued to massage your pussy.
"Mmmm, that's my girl. You did so good for me." Eddie praised, and your stomach did another flip-flop at his words.
"You think you want to keep going? Or do you want to stop? You don't need to worry about me. This is all about you, Pip. Okay?"
"I want to keep going." Your voice sounded breathy, like it wasn't coming from you.
"You're sure?"
"Yes, Eddie, I want you to fuck me. Please," you squirmed.
"God, I love hearing those words from your mouth." Eddie bent down to kiss you once again.
.As he kissed you, his mouth had a tangy and slightly salty taste. He explored your mouth with his tongue, just as he had moments before with your lower lips.
"I'm going to go get a condom, okay?" He whispered again to you.
"Okay," you bit your lip with anticipation.
You watched as Eddie shuffled on his knees off the bed to his nightstand and grabbed a blue cardboard box out of his stuffed drawer. He pulled out the foil packet and pulled down his pants and boxers. Your eyes bludged at the sight of Eddie's cock. Sure, you knew what a penis looked like. However, this was your first time seeing one in real life.
"No need to be scared, Pip." Eddie gave a reassuring smile.
"Okay, Eddie," You whispered.
"You can touch me if you want?" He walked over to the bed, cock at full mast. You slowly nod your head and reach out to feel it. Obviously, it felt hard, but you were surprised by the soft skin that felt like velvet.
Eddie made a whimpering sound as your delicate fingers grazed the red tip. You jerked back your hand, afraid you'd hurt him.
"No, no, Pip," Eddie stutterd. "You're okay; it just felt really good s'all."
"Oh," you blushed. Amazed at yourself that you made him feel really good.
"Shit, okay, I'm going to put the condom on now, okay?"
"Okay," you repeated like a parrot.
"Can you lay back for me?" Eddie crawled back up on the bed and over you once more.
You popped back down, and Eddie giggled at your eagerness. He wanted to make this perfect for you, but in your mind he already had. He wanted it to be the least painful he could make it. Hopefully, your orgasm will have helped with that.
"This may hurt a little, but I'm going to go slow, and if you need me to stop or pull out, you tell me, okay?" Eddie's face had never been so serious.
You nod your head.
"No, Pip. I need your words. I need you to tell me you understand. It's important."
Oh.
"I'll let you know if I need to stop. I promise."
"Good girl."
You sucked in a breath and bit your lip at his words. Eddie took a mental note about your reaction. He would tuck it away and save it for later.
"You're already wet enough, I think. I'm going to try and put it in now okay?" Eddie kissed you tenderly and you replied.
The feeling was odd. You felt like you were being split open as your walls burned from being stretched the furthest they have ever been.
"Oh god," Your face scratched as Eddie went in deeper.
"You okay? I can stop"
"No, I can do this. Just stay there a minute." Your body needed time to adjust.
"It's okay," Eddie cooed. He peppered your cheeks with small kisses as he waited for further instructions.
"Okay, I think I'm okay." Your vagina was still tight, but it wasn't as bad as a few minutes ago.
Eddie made sure to be as gentle as possible. Even though it was killing him to not just ram into you repeatedly. Your soft, warm walls were squeezing him so good, too good.
Eventually, after what felt like an hour, Eddie finally reached the hilt. You never felt so full. The feeling was strange yet exciting.
"I'm going to move now, okay?"
He was so patient and kind; you never imagined your first time to be so guided and full of communication. You thought it would just be like boom, stick it in and start. But, no. Not with Eddie.
As Eddie started to rock his hips, the burning started to ease into pleasure. Your hips started moving and rocking with Eddie's body, and you worked together to feel pleasure. Your instincts took over as your thoughts started to numb.
"That's it, baby, fuck, you're making me feel so good." Eddie praised.
"Mmmmm," Was all you managed to get out.
Eddie took that as a sign he could go faster. Thank god he did because the moans that came from you were sinful.
"Yes, baby, be as loud as you want," Eddie commanded before latching his mouth back on the sweet spot he found earlier.
A high-pitched ""Uhhhhhnhhhh" left your mouth as you became more and more cockdrunk by the second. His thick long cock was grazing your walls, finding your g spot that he had reached earlier in the night. Making you yell out his name.
"That's it, baby girl; tell me, who owns this pussy?" Eddie gritted through his teeth, and his pulsing cock pounded into you.
"W-what?"
"Sorry, shit, sorry I got carried away." Eddie kept his rhythm as he forgot that this was your first sexual experience. He couldn't wait to teach you about all his little desires. "you're doing so good for me."
"o-okay"
Your nails lightly scratch up Eddie's back, making him shiver. You then run back down and grab onto his ass. You hugged him like a koala bear, refusing to have this feeling he was giving you to go away. You were so blissed out by it all.
"God baby, I don't think I can hold out much longer," Eddie puffed. His hips never break the rhythm he set.
"Please," you didn't know what you were begging for? You just need him.
"I got you, baby girl; you're being so good for me" Eddie felt your pussy clench down at his words of praise.
"Come on, baby; I know you can give me one more," His hand slipped between you two and found your clit once again. You were so overstimulated that with just a few mild touches, you were falling apart, beneath Eddie.
"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Eddie tried to hold off, to keep going, to keep fucking you, but he couldn't. Your pussy was so tight around his cock he emptied himself into the condom that was buried inside of you.
Your head felt like it was spinning; your body was limp and racing with those feel-good hormones.
"I'll be right back." He kissed your cheek before getting up off of you after he caught his breath, got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up before returning with a wet cloth for you. But when he returned to the bedroom, you were fast asleep.
He laid the damp cloth on the back of his desk chair and brought the covers back up over the both of you before pulling you into his chest to cuddle you until he fell asleep.
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The next morning the snow had finally stopped, and the bright sunlight had peaked its way through the slits of the cheap blinds that hung in the window.
Eddie heard footsteps outside the bedroom door in his hazy, half-asleep state. He peeked in an eye to see you sprawled out comfortably in his bed. He lifted covers to see your still naked body that he didn't really get to see last night due to the pitch black. He could see the marks he had made more clearly as they had gotten darker within the night.
He couldn't help himself. Here you were naked, sleeping with him in his bed; he just had to touch you. He kissed up the side of your exposed neck, marking the other side that had been left untouched. You moaned and squirmed, then giggled when Eddie's hair tickled you.
The reality of where you were hit the second you awoke.
"Oh, Eddie," You softly moaned.
"Good morning, baby," Eddie rolled on top of you, his morning wood more hormonal than ever.
" 'Morning," you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before Eddie nuzzled his head behind the small of your neck.
"So I was hopin' that you'd want to go out with me, officially... or whatever?" He cleared his throat. His morning voice was so sexy.
"Or whatever?" you smiled back up at him.
"Or wha-"
"Hey, Ed's, I'm finally back-Holy hell!-" Suddenly, Uncle Wayne was walking into the bedroom, and you were screaming, trying to cover yourself, and Eddie was trying to cover as much of you as he could.
Wayne was mortified as he shut the door behind him as quickly as possible.
"Put a sock on the door next time you have company, Kid!" Wayne shouted, flustered as ever.
Eddie barked out a laugh, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.
"Oh my god, I can't go out there? Do you think I can fit through the window?" You asked Eddie before covering your face with your hands.
"Come on, Pip. I'm sure he didn't see anything; probably only saw my pasty ass." He got up and pulled you along with him.
He found your folded clothes on the chair where you had left them, but when you went to put on your underwear, they were nowhere to be found.
You got dressed without them, and Eddie pulled you out of his room hand in hand to Face Wayne.
"So I guess it was your car all covered in snow." Wayne shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee. "There uh- coffee for the both of ya's if you want." He offered.
"Thanks." You tugged at your sleeve, not knowing what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay? Can you leave? The show was up to your knees.
"Better make yourself comfortable; the plows will take a while to get to this side of town." Wayne made the decision for you. Eddie guided you to the kitchen table and pulled out a seat for you.
"Wayne, you remember Pippin, don't you?" Eddie smiled brightly as he got you two mugs.
"Of course I do." He smiled genuinely this time. The awkwardness was lifting.
Eddie didn't need to ask how you took your coffee. He remembered two creams and two sugar. He once said it was too sweet, just like you.
"Thanks," you smile up at him as he places your coffee before you.
"I was wondering when the two of you would finally get together... Ever since high school, I've been bugging this one," He motions to Eddie, " To get his head out of his ass and to lock you down already."
"Took him long enough, you giggle"
"Now I know you two are adults, but I don't need no little munson babies running around here just yet, so you better be safe-"
"Okay, okay, Old man, we get it. We have already had this uncomfortable talk once when I was fifteen. I don't need it again."
"Fifteen?!" your eyes blog you're off your head.
"What can I say? The ladies love them some, Eddie." he smiled cockily.
You lightly pinch Eddie's arm, so he shuts up.
"Hey!" Eddie rubbed his bicep.
I knew I always liked you." Wayne tipped up his mug to you with a smile. "keep him in line."
1K notes · View notes
bratphilia · 6 months
Text
his bunny (w. afton x reader)
request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"
note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex
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engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.
and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.
but he's never noticed you.
not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.
you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.
so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.
in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.
"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.
Thank you,
Professor Raglan"
any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.
professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.
the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.
over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.
steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.
he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.
your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.
and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.
steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.
he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."
you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.
"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"
god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.
you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."
he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."
you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"
your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"
he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."
if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.
you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"
"yes, professor," you answer.
"then get on your knees, slut."
he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.
"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."
"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.
you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.
you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.
"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.
he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.
before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.
you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."
you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.
"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.
"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.
he tsks. "such a slut."
steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.
he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."
you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."
"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."
with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.
the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.
before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.
steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.
"you did so well for me, sweetheart."
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taegularities · 1 year
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im missing the soaring high couple soo much ......can we please have a Lil update on em 🥺?
the soaring high couple has finally given up on their fwb shenanigans and is taking it a step further... so far, being in a relationship suits them. they're enjoying it a lot !!
tae is learning to love again and oc is getting used to falling for someone who leads an entirely different life !! it's new to them both. but it helps that jae and jimin love her so much 🤍
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willownwisp · 3 months
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ree's leon valentine's day advent <3
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hi everyone. <3 as the leon kennedy fluff truther, i'm making an advent for valentine's day because pookie deserves so much love! everyday, i'll be posting a fic ranging from nsfw/sfw fluff for babu leon, i'll be putting out the scenarios and snippets below if y'all are interested. author's note: i've been meaning to put this out like a week ago when i finally figured out the problem w my account as to why tumblr wasn't letting me reply to comments :( but sadly, college got me so head empty. anyway, i've already got 2 days worth of fics already finished so i hope y'all can give me a read. <3
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FEBRUARY 8 𖹭 nice legs, daisy dukes. (vendetta!leon x fem!reader) Leon feels like a creep, fuck that. He definitely looks like a creep. Thirty-six year old in all of his 5'11 glory standing outside his girlfriend's college leant against his Ducati like a dick, carrying a box of those, instagrammable pastries you always like to look at. It doesn't hurt to be sweet. Not when you walk — run, at the sight of him in your preppy mini dress, highlighting those long, long legs. Nothing is sweeter, especially when it's wrapped around him.
FEBRUARY 9 𖹭 starry skies, blue eyes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Stars dot stygian skies, the night is young, the moon is high. Leon's heart soars with your every laughter. The way your eyes close and your nose scrunches. God he was so in love with you, he could forgive the fact that the tent should have been up hours ago before night. You swear you remember your knots from your wide-eyed Girl Scout days, and he swears these silly moments with you are what makes life bearable.
FEBRUARY 10 𖹭 cold woes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Leon S. Kennedy. The apple of his instructors' eyes (and yours), he's a top graduate in the Police Academy for fuck's sake. He's decimated hordes of zombies in his first day as a rookie cop. Endured military training in the middle of nowhere, he's saved the President's daughter. He doesn't get sick. Only that he does catch a cold at the expense of prioritizing you, his clumsy girlfriend, who forgot to wear a jacket on a camping trip, offering his warm clothes to you. He doesn't regret it, he likes taking care of you, but there's something adorable about your sheepish apologies as you wait on him. He could get used to being babied. FEBRUARY 11 𖹭 love on me. (di!leon x fem!reader) As much as Leon loves the sun, the beaches, the tropics. Oh what he would give to become a beach bum in his next life instead of being smacked by bioweapons day in, night out, and being a good bitch to good ol' U.S of A. Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights. So why in the world were you dragging him to a love hotel? FEBRUARY 12 𖹭 fill up your cup. (re6!leon x fem!reader) He feels himself spiraling recently, turning to the bottle because a glass is never troubled by his woes. He breaks them of course, can't help it, seems like his life is doomed to him breaking in the end. Fragments of glass scatters on the floor, vodka spills on the floor splashes it around like his grief because his body can only take so much. You arrive as he tries to pick them up, attempts to pick himself up. You whisper assurance, he doesn't deserve it. The way you look at him ardently, the gentleness that is your existence. You empty out his pain, and fill it with love. FEBRUARY 13 𖹭 the thrill, the love. (damnation!leon x fem!reader) He wills his old Yamaha to go faster. Your dainty arms clinging to him, the softness of your touch as his speed breaks the sound barrier. What started as mere curiosity turns into rituals. Secrets that only the both of you know. He knocks on your door at midnight, drives you around town. He scolds you every time your arm breaks free, throwing them to the wind. You don't care, you love the thrill, you love him. Leon admits that there is something alluring to the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that's why he's spent his years chasing Ada, but with you it was different. FEBRUARY 14 𖹭 kiss it better. (di!leon x fem!reader) Leon is a man full of stories, his pain, his peace, his fears, his needs. There is more to him than just being a formidable weapon against bioterrorism. He never was a weapon, just a flesh and blood human, and in his mortality there are scars. Deep within him, and littered in his skin. You kiss the faded slash on his hand, he tells you how he'd got it from when Ashley Graham had tried to stab him under the influence of the plaga. You kiss it again, and what he doesn't tell you is the wave of warmth that washes his entire being, it tugs on his very soul. You kiss the scars because it's there, because it's him, and in his reverie, he thinks you truly are his person.
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duos silices ad ignem
Just a Rollo fic I wrote based off of this post
I write Reader/Yuu as female
Also my writing may be a bit biased but I refuse to write Deuce as nothing but a sweetheart even in an angst fic
“You’re ‘used to it’?” Rollo repeats incredulously, looking at you as though you’ve gone barmy, “Oh you poor thing. I can’t blame you for becoming numb to the absurdity after spending every day swimming in it.”
You open your mouth, ready to dismiss his words and defend yourself, but you find the words clogging up at your throat, refusing to leave. The stoic Student Council President continued to look at you, concern overcasting his features, so you swallow thickly as you feel your heartbeat in your ears and mutter that you think you hear Professor Trein calling you before making a much too hasty exit.
You’ll admit that initially, yes, the concept of magic terrified you. Why wouldn’t it? After spending a lifetime without it and then being thrown into the both metaphorical and literal lions’ den with no support whatsoever was the stuff of nightmares. Especially when you consider your first overblot, where everyday was the physical representation of out of the frying pan and into the fire.
But you learned to see the beauty of magic, learned to see how it can help and heal, how it can mend broken bones in seconds instead of months, how it can protect you and make you soar. 
Though why do you feel resentful? Why do you feel that tang of bitterness when you’d see someone wave their pens and have an entire room spotless in a blink of an eye? Why does it cause such discomfort to witness a meal magically prepped to perfection? Why does watching your classmates using spells to play around in class and make their life easier fill you up with so much dread?
You love magic so why do you still flinch?
‘Maybe,” your mind supplies, “it’s because they’re so used to it. They’re so lackadaisical about throwing around spells because it comes to them without a thought. To them it’s mundane. To you - well, it’s proof that you don’t belong here, that you’re not yet home.”
Later on you find yourself sitting in isolation on a bench, far removed from the festivities of your peers, as you watch them produce fireworks with seamless flicks of their wrists, laughing gaily with every spark and flicker.
Why was it that a complete stranger could see you, hear your unspoken thoughts, much better than an entire castle full of people that you’ve spent months with? Why was it that this wiry, unfeeling, looming presence was able to piece together what was laid out in front of him much better than the people you brushed with death with to save?
Was it pity? The thought should have filled you with offense, that this person you just met is treating you with such infantilising condescension. How dare he patronise you without even knowing what you’ve done, what you’ve lived through, how you’re barely holding on to the tattered shreds of your sanity before it slips through your fingers-
How dare he be so right.
Maybe it is pity, maybe his patronising words were warranted. Maybe, just maybe, you’re so desperate that you’ll take it, that you’ll take anything if it meant someone would look close enough to see that you’re not okay, that you want out.
You’re left alone with your thoughts now, as you watch your schoolmates with a blank look, your eyes fixated on their high spirits but not quite seeing them. Your thoughts that liked to remind you of how small you are, how insignificant against the might that was magic, how easy it was for you to sign away your life to Azul with a simple signature, how eye contact or a few words was all it took for Jamil and Ruggie to own your mind and body, how Vil cursed your food without a word to you nor a care in the world.
How completely breakable you are in this twisted world of vices and villains.
Even the other first years, who are considered the least powerful in regards to magical capability, could end you as fast as lightning flashes.
You think back on the scars that coiled and burned along your skin, how the foreign slivers of jagged discolouration were littered along your body, a sadistically twisted storybook that mapped out your past, present and future torment. The deep reddish-purple lesions and inky black cracks that spiderwebbed your once young, innocent and untouched complexion were nothing more than a perpetual reminder of all that you’ve lost, all that’s been taken from you in this world. That you weren’t who you once were and you can never go back to being her.
(“Deuce,” you whispered to your friend late into the night. Ace and Grim were contentedly dozing away on the mattress you’d placed on the floor of Ramshackle’s living room, leaving you and Deuce the only ones awake on your couch, the dim light of the television bathing you in opalescence and and the tinny sounds it played turning into white noise. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice just barely a mutter but you heard it loud and clear. “Have,” you took a breath and looked down at your twiddling fingers, “have you ever looked at a mirror and saw a stranger?”
“Yeah, I have,” Deuce replied. Your head cants upwards and you see his blue eyes piercing through the darkness, “it was right after I heard my mum crying on the phone to my grandma. I didn’t know who I was. I just knew I didn’t want to be who I saw.”)
But it’s okay now because they are your friends.
That’s the mantra you chanted as you surveyed everyone in front of you. 
Riddle who called you pathetic who didn’t hesitate to make a mockery of you who attacked you with both his words and his thorny rage, diligently listening to an NBC student explain the history of Fleur City.
They are your friends
Deuce who was your best friend who you trusted with your life who you can’t tell any of this to and Epel who’s a victim like you who wants out like you who’s still destined to hurt you like everyone else, talking animatedly about their magical wheels as they eat their candy apples.
They are your friends
Ruggie who can control you with one word who still has the fangs and claws of a predator who you still don’t know if you can trust, munching on as many baked goods as he could.
They are your friends
Azul who’s sadistic and manipulative and uses and takes for his own benefit who happily made you homeless and still has everything despite all that he’s done who’s predatory eyes burn you whenever he’s near, looking for your next weakness to exploit and Jamil who used and kidnapped and manipulated you who hypnotised you and ripped away what little control you had whilst playing pretend as your friend who took pleasure in your suffering were surveying the stalls, asking the vendors questions about their wares. For some reason, the thought of joining them felt like acid crawling up your throat.
They are your friends
Rook who’s an enabler just like everyone else who watched on as his housewarden cursed your food and tried to poison and kill someone who can easily hunt you down and find you no matter where you are or how well you hide, laughing along with everyone’s merriment and spouting out verbose french poetry that you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.
They are your friends
Idia who took Grim from you who unlike everyone else was an actual genuine friend before he overblotted who played his part just like everyone else did, looking like he found Nirvana as he was surrounded by stray cats and kittens.
They are your friends
Silver who you don’t even know yet who could still be part of this twisted ploy to cause your downfall who could hide a person as sadistically corrupted like everyone else, napping on a bench near Sebek who hates your existence who hates that a human would dare to breathe the same air as his liege who doesn’t even hide his contempt for you who was watching Malleus who’s never there who never helps who just does what he wants and you can’t say anything because who are you compared to him with his usual starry-eyed worship.
They are your friends. They’ve changed. It’s alright now, You easily washed away the red of their sins so everything’s all good. You’ve moved on - forgive and forget, right? Sure they hurt you but it’s all water under the bridge. They won’t hurt you again. So why, why- 
Then why does your stomach feel like lead now. Why do your eyes sting so badly, pinpricks dotting the edges of them as you feel the telltale drip of water run down your cheek.
All you want is to survive
But how do you survive in a world that wants you dead?
Apart from Ace, Deuce, Grim and the ghosts that haunt your dorm, not one person looked at you and saw you as someone other than the magicless prefect who stops overblots and cleans up messes that they had nothing to do with. Not one person who’s hurt you had stopped to think that you were someone who could feel hurt, that your feelings matter, that you don’t fight death every other second because you want to but because it’s the only way you could survive in a place where you have been abandoned. 
Shakespeare was right. There are daggers in men’s smiles. In every predatory grin, in every saccharine leer, in every simper that coiled and tightened around you like a serpent, with its poison-laced fangs prodding at your carotid, just waiting to strike.
You feel him before you see him, his lanky figure joining you in your shadowed refuge. Without a word, he sits down beside you.
“Do you believe in fate?” you ask idly, your stare never once wavering from where you watched Professor Trein who’s in on it who, just like every other adult, has failed you who never once punished anyone except you and your fellow students, “that things happen and there’s nothing we can do about it because that’s just how things are meant to be? That the people who do bad things just get to do those things and everyone’s supposed to live with it because that’s how the story is written?”
He regards you for a second and then turns and looks straight ahead with a gaze like steel, “I believe in justice. That without it, humanity is doomed to live in a delusion of peace. I believe that the only way to be truly free from the sins that swarm and bite us, that follow us around like a plague, is to take the reins ourselves and use our power to free us from them. The past is just a tragic history but the future has several names: for the weak, it is impossible; for the fainthearted, it is unknown; but for the valiant, it is ideal. And once the gavel of justice has done its duty in punishing the wicked and freeing the innocent, even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
You feel a cold, thin hand placed over yours and you let it rest there. It was grounding, comforting.
Maybe, it’s about time you stop being a victim of the narrative and take control of your own story. You’ll rid yourself of your tragic ending and fashion a new happily ever after.
In NRC, you found horrors beyond your comprehension.
In Rollo, you think you’ve found your guardian angel.
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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okay but your last annoying sweet gf katie fic had me thinking because i just know she would lose her mind if you ignored her - her ego can’t take it and she’s also secretly clingy af
so here’s my idea/req:
she’s been getting on your nerves a little too much, being all cocky and high and mighty about getting a ball into the net during training that you should have stopped and nutmegging you in the process (bc cmon we all know that she’d eat that up), she’s talking about it non stop so you ignore her to get her to shut up since she’s too quick with her verbal comebacks
only it doesn’t work because she is instantly all over you, doing stuff for you (housewife katie gotta make a comeback) and trying to get you to pay attention to her instead
when it doesn’t work, she just grabs you and forces you into a cuddle until you’re laughing again
nutmeg II k.mccabe
"press in and cut her off!" you heard jen yell over to you as your girlfriend hurtled down the wing, easily passing kimmy and kyra with a few steps. you ran toward her, intending to tap it away from her but you misread her speed, the girl easily stopping and tapping the ball through your open legs as you braced.
you watched on hopelessy after the humiliating enough nutmeg as katies ball soared through the air and swooshed into the back of the net, just skimming the tips of sabs glove as you sighed heavily.
"want some cinnamon for with that nutmeg darlin?" your girlfriend smacked your bum with a grin as she sprinted past you to celebrate with her team, the whistle blowing to end the game as katies team won 5-4.
"that doesn't even make any sense!" you yelled after her with a scowl, the irishwoman only flipping you the bird and sticking her tongue out as you rolled your eyes, kicking at the ground.
this was not something she would let you forget easily.
"-oh and she strikes again!" katie cheered loudly, pumping her fists in the air as she tapped her shinpad through your open legs, nutmegging you as you all showered and changed after training.
"you're so fucking annoying." you muttered, shouldering past her and heading for the showers, the older girl having relentlessly teased you all day about your mistake this morning
at first it was light hearted and of course dating the jokster for years you knew how to take it. but now, almost five hours later, your patience had gone and every little comment, jab and smirk was only rubbing you more and more the wrong way.
you rolled your eyes as you re-entered the change rooms now dressed and ready to leave, her cheeky grin greeting you as you did so, making yet another comment about her goal purposefully loud to steph beside her as you packed up your things.
"better watch it katie, might be single by matchday." jen teased as katie tried to pull you into a hug and you shoved her off, grabbing your bag and your headphones, storming off without another word.
"dog house for you tonight it seems macca." "ah buzz off russo, she loves it."
it took an incredibly silent car ride home with you for katie to realise you may in fact not love it, pushing her away every chance she tried to lay her hand on your thigh, as she always did when driving.
your headphones covering your ears you stared out the window, arms crossed over your chest as you made a point to ignore her and every attempt at making conversation with you.
the moment she pulled in the driveway you were out of the car, popping the boot and grabbing your bag, marching to the front door and waiting impatiently with your headphones round your neck, katie unfortunately having the keys.
"after you gorgeous." the older girl opened the door, gesturing you inside with a charming smile as you refused to even look at her, striding inside as katie frowned, following you inside.
she winced as she heard the bedroom door slam, rubbing the back of her neck realising you were a lot more upset with her than she'd intended. so with a sigh she got to work, determined to make it up to you.
it was around an hour later when the bedroom door opened and you didn't even flinch, eyes trained to the tv as katie shuffled inside. "baby girl?" she tried calling out, huffing when you continued to ignore her.
"i made dinner, your favourite!" she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, slight hope spiking as you got up from the bed. her face fell when she tried to kiss you and you walked right past her, heading downstairs without a word.
"ah! allow me." she was quick to pull out your chair for you, pushing it in and hurrying into the kitchen, grabbing your plate. "made with love, so much love." katie smiled brightly, placing it down in front of you and trying to peck your lips as your head turned and her kiss fell to your cheek instead.
you didn't give her the satisfaction as you began to eat, not even waiting for her to sit down with her own plate as you normally would. "baby please, i'm sorry for the teasin." katie apologised as she sat across from you, your eyes trained down at your food.
"you did good in the gym babe, hit a new pb right?" silence. "your bum looked well peachy in the new training kit." nothing. "that goal you scored where you did the little flick and sweep around wally was glorious!" crickets.
"oi stop ignorin me!" the irishwoman whined, kicking you gently as you continued to blank her, determined to teach her a lesson. you finished your food in record time, standing to your feet and moving toward the sink as katie hurried after you.
"don't you dare! i'll do it gorgeous." she kissed your cheek and maneuvered you away, running the water to wash up the dishes as you left her to it, moving into the living room and settling into the sofa trying to find something to watch.
you were aware of katies movements around the house but you paid her no mind, engrossed in the latest episode of the kardashians, laughing to yourself as your girlfriend would pause to smile at the sound before returning to what she was doing.
awhile later she sat herself carefully down on the sofa, choosing to give you some space as you felt her eyes burn into the side of your head.
"so i did your washin and i put away all the clean clothes from yesterday, i stripped and remade the bed and sprayed that fabric softner scented shit you bought on the sheets, i cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards." she listed off with her fingers, your eyes still trained to the tv as you didn't move a muscle.
"i packed your bag already for the trip away to villa on friday, i vacuumed the bedroom and i'll clean the bathroom after we shower tomorrow morning." katie continued, shuffling a little closer and laying her body down so her head laid in your lap.
"what else has a girl gotta do to get back in her missus's good books? help me out here babe i'm dyin!" katie groaned, staring up at you helplessly as you fought the urge to look at her, knowing the minute you did you'd crack and you wanted to carry this on for as long as possible.
"angel? love? baby girl? gorgeous? my everything? future mrs mccabe? superstar? peachy bum?" katie rattled off nickname after nickname, poking and prodding at your face as you swatted her hands away, jaw clenching as you held back a smile.
"right! thats it i've had enough of this then." you squealed as just as suddenly as you'd been sat comfortably on the couch you were thrown over the taller girls shoulder. though still not wanting to give her the satisfaction you crossed your arms and remained silent as she flicked off the lights and the tv, carrying you upstairs to the bedroom.
"look at me!" katie threw you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you as you looked to the ceiling. "i love ya, i love ya, i love ya, i love ya-" the irishwoman attacked your face with her lips, kissing over every inch of skin as your lips couldn't help but curl into a smile.
"alright fine! get off me mccabe." you gave in, the brunettes face lighting up at the sound of your voice. "i love ya, i love ya, i love ya-" she continued to pepper your face with soft kisses, hands tangling in your hair as eventually her lips moved to meet yours.
"did you learn your lesson?" you raised an eyebrow as the two of you lay tangled up together beneath the duvet, katies strong arms wrapped around you as her chin rested on your shoulder and your fingers intertwined with hers as they lay on your stomach.
"i learned that next time i win i'll be sure to tease you behind your back and not to your face. what a sore loser!" "katie!"
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diejager · 2 months
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I've been reading the Stepfather! Konig fic and I had just an idea. What if to get away and feel at least some safety reader fakes their death and joins the military with many fake names and constantly changes up themself to keep safe and away from König and Horangi?
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, military, recruitment, enlisting, military inaccuracies, tell me if I missed any.
Where was the best place to hide? The last place they would look, right under their nose. You managed - somehow - to keep your papers a secret from them, you were lucky they dealt with things online on encrypted servers, keeping it as hush-hush as possible. Fortunately, there weren’t many requirements for enlisting, all they had asked was your age, level of education and citizenship, some vague papers about you and that was all. You bode your time, leaning on your freedom when you left the house to hit the gym to get a head start in your training, pack a bit of muscle and get into a tight routine to get used to it before you joined; and buying the few things you’d need to build you stage with the few materials and story you made up. 
You were prepared when the time came, just a week before your training and your body thrummed with adrenaline and anxiety, slowly finishing off your plan. And when the time was right, you struck, vanishing with the car that you drove into the lake, you made sure that it was deep enough to be left untouched until you had at least finished your training. It was a stroke of luck, sheer luck that you made it to the base, flashing your papers and given a permit to meet the major of the base to receive your identification once you passed the examinations and interview. 
“Welcome to hell, cadet!” Were the first words you heard in the mass, dressed in the black and white uniform of the navy you stood ramrod with others beside you. 
They separated men and women in the early stages of training, once the selections were done, they’d mix both sex and leave them to train and learn together. It was a gruelling process, the physical and mental exhaustion of it all almost made you crash more than once, mind on the brink of frustration and muscles worn into painful bruises. You’d seen friends - made through nights of venting and moaning about life - and acquaintances quit early or halfway through the training and education. They were weeding out the weaker ones, the less competent and determined from the rest. You feared being picked of quitting, but you powered through it, all your blood, sweat and tears culminated to your graduation nearly eleven weeks later. 
You could stand with pride in yourself, head held high as you received your praises from the major, his rough voice echoing through the room in congratulations. You took your oaths and were given a white uniform and a hat, the black cap and gold encrusted hat that gleamed under the sun. You were proud; you were happy; you felt accomplished and free. You thought of flying, to be and feel as free as the birds that soar the skies, perhaps you’d join the aviation branch of the Navy. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, to be moved and passed around wherever you were needed, never staying in one place made finding you much harder if König and Horangi found your bluff. 
But you’d gone so far, done so much to take things back or be taken back. You’d accomplished something with what little you had and you knew- You knew that your mother would be so proud of you for persevering. 
“I miss you, mom,” you kissed the sole picture of your mother, the only thing you thought worth keeping, “I’m sorry, I miss you.”
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shadowdaddies · 3 months
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With Her Own Wings
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel's mate wishes that she could have wings like his, and goes to dangerous lengths to acquire them.
Based on this ask.💜
A/N: I had TOO much fun with this. One of my favorite fics I’ve written
warnings: kinda spooky, mentions of blood, allusions to sex
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Azriel’s fingers laced through yours as the pair of you lazed through the quiet evening streets of Velaris. A sparrow soared across the watercolor horizon like a paintbrush against the canvas sky.
Azriel tracked your gaze, noting how it followed the bird. A small smile graced his lips, hazel eyes twinkling in the setting sun as his wings twitched behind him. 
“I wish you knew what it feels like,” Azriel sighed, his eyes out of focus, as though he were imagining flying high above the city, rather than walking through it with you. It was a conversation you’d had repeatedly, his words echoing through your mind every time he took to the skies - how inadequate you were, bound to the ground. 
Guilt panged your chest as you watched Azriel, his heart racing within his own chest at the mere thought of flying. But he was tied to a wingless mate. You were someone who brought him into your own cage instead of setting him free. 
“You should go,” you nodded towards the warm-hued clouds in the distance. “Enjoy an evening flight. I can walk home,” you forced yourself to say, flashing him a practiced smile.
Azriel’s eyes lit up, wings flaring in reaction before he looked to you. His smile disappeared, wrenching your heart as his expression turned sympathetic. “No, love. I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his disappointment clear. “You could come with me. You know I like to fly with you in my arms as well,” he offered.
The ache in your chest was unbearable at this point. You knew Azriel loved to fly by himself, testing how fast he could soar, flipping and diving through the wind. All the things that made him feel free, at peace. All the things he couldn’t do with you in his arms. 
Knowing that Azriel meant what he said - he wouldn’t leave you - you agreed to let him fly you up to the house. The air was crisp up high, the wind against your cheeks clearing your head of the worries it held. You sighed, sending a childish wish to the Mother that you too could fly, one day.
Azriel arose early the next day, waking you with a kiss goodbye as he set off for a mission. You laid in bed, watching his wings spread wide before jumping from the balcony, your heart straining as you watched your mate diminish into a spot on the horizon.
Thoughts began to spiral, and you kicked off the covers with an irritated huff as you forced yourself from bed, forced yourself from journeying further into your self-loathing. Trudging down the stairs, you turned into the kitchen to find an amused Cassian studying you.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted, raising his cup to you in a mock-toast. Flipping him off, you pulled out a chair at the table, burying your head in your hands, feeling the press of your palms against your closed eyelids.
Cassian softened at your display, setting down his cup as he reached a hand, gently pulling your arm away. “What’s wrong? Tell me how I can help.”
Cassian’s hazel gaze was so genuinely tender, you felt the burden slightly lift as you looked at your friend. A wry chuckle left your lips, and you sighed, leaning back against the chair. “It’s nothing, Cass. Nothing to be done... Unless you know of a good wizard around here.”
His head tilted slightly, brows raised at your strange comment, but Cassian decided not to pry, instead going along with the joke. “Mmm, no wizards I’m afraid. If it’s a potion you’re looking for, maybe try the Weaver’s Cottage. I went in there with Az once now that it’s empty...”
The general’s head turned to see the intrigue on your face, suddenly alight with interest. “No,” he scolded, pointing a finger at you. “I know that look. I’m serious, don’t go there. That place has a darkness that will never go away,” he muttered, a shudder working through him at the recollection.
You rolled your eyes, giving your best effort at nonchalance as you scoffed. “Cass, I wouldn’t dream of it. I just wanted to hear more about what scared the might Lord of Bloodshed. Good to keep in mind,” you teased with a wink. 
That appeared to satisfy Cassian, the male returning the gesture you’d given him earlier. Your friend mussed your hair, muttering about Azriel leaving him alone for training as he left you sitting at the counter, devious ideas eddying in your mind. With a smirk, you hopped up from your chair, headed upstairs to get dressed. 
An hour later, you’d winnowed your way to the forest’s edge, a shallow tree line separating you from the clearing where the Weaver’s Cottage stood. Smoke no longer rose from the chimney and no light shone in the window. The dust and cobwebs weren’t new, but you slipped on your gloves, nose scrunched as you brushed away the silken strands that webbed the front porch steps. 
Looking down, you watched the cobwebs shake from your hand, falling to the dusty deck when the door creaked open. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you watched the door slowly open for you, a light flickering on across the room.
Swallowing thickly, you crept forward, breaths shallow as you crossed the threshold. Floorboards creaked beneath you, dust flying as a rat scurried across the top of your boots. With a squeal, you jumped back towards the door just to feel it close behind you.
The light on the far side of the room grew brighter, cluttered artifacts coming into view. 
“So skittish for one that hopes to learn to fly,” a silken voice sounded from the dark. As your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, you saw the blurry outline of a female, the edges of her form hazy and semi-translucent. 
Keeping a hand on the dagger sheathed at your thigh, you crossed further into the room, curiosity winning over your better senses at the sight of spell books and herbs lining her table. “Who are you?” you questioned, voice wavering more than you would have liked.
A cackle left her lips, the young woman twirling long black hair through her iridescent fingertips. “There’s that boldness I was expecting. You aught to be more careful dearest, about entering someone’s home uninvited. They say that curiosity killed the cat - imagine what it would do to a little bird like you.”
Your heart thundered in your chest as the realization dawned on you. This witch knew that you were coming, and she had prepared for you. “I didn’t expect anyone to live here. I had been told the home was empty,” you admitted, hoping to quell any offense she might have taken to your invasion.
A scratchy hum sounded from her chest, amusement flickering in green glowing eyes as you shifted on your feet. “It clearly is not empty,” she drawled, moving her hands in a flourish as she gestured to the hoards of both trinkets and treasure that enveloped the space. “I do hope that you don’t rush into all of your decisions the way you rushed in here, dearest, or you may not like what the future holds.”
You opened your mouth to ask her to elaborate when she stood abruptly, gliding across the floor to the table laden with books and herbs, and one singular vial of liquid that she held in her long, nimble fingers. You could see the purple potion through her hand, its contents shimmering in the dim light, drawing you closer. 
“Ah, ah,” she crooned at you, lips spreading into a wide, wicked smile that revealed rotted teeth. Just as your gaze flicked to the bone, it turned to a pearly white, as dazzling and unsettling as the rest of her appearance. “Such a foolish girl. So easily drawn to the potion she seeks. But have you not considered the price to pay?”
Your mouth was watering, vision only able to focus on the vial in her hands. You barely processed her words, eyes still glued to the bottle as you murmured, “a payment? What do you want?”
You didn’t see the sly grin of the witch, a spider who’d caught a fly in her web. “What will I take? I would just like a little lock of your hair. As for what the wings will take, it matters what you are willing to give.”
You didn’t hesitate, dazed as the potion swirled in front of you. Thirsty, you were so thirsty. “I will give whatever it takes to make my mate happy,” you breathed. 
“Very well then,” she snapped, handing you the vial. Her cold arm swept through your skin, sending a chill down your spine as she pulled away. You heard a snip as she cut your hair, and you eagerly uncorked the vial, downing the contents in one go.
The moment you finished drinking, clarity returned to your senses. That was too easy. What could she want from you, truly? You turned to ask, but words couldn’t form in your mouth, vision began to fade as colors grew more vibrant. The witch leaned in, ice-cold hands tucking a parchment into your palm.
“To give you a fighting chance. Go now, pet. You don’t have long,” she whispered, a high-pitched cackle echoing in your mind as you stumbled towards the door. You fell to your knees, crawling on weak limbs towards the entrance. “Oh, little bird. So naive,” she cooed, just as the door burst open.
The light burned your eyes, the outline of an Illyrian standing tall in the doorway the last thing that you saw, cedar the last that you smelled before you awoke again.
Eyes fluttered open to find yourself in your room, Azriel hunched in a chair next to you as he pored over a parchment in his hand. A shadow curled his ear, and hazel eyes flicked to you.
“My head hurts,” you grumbled, hand reaching up to try to stop the pounding against your skull. 
“You are lucky that’s all that hurts,” Azriel said, hurt of his own flashing across his expression.
“You are mad.” You stated. It felt dumb to say, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “You look very handsome, even when you are angry. I love you and I don’t want you to be mad.” The words continued to spew, Azriel’s expression changing from shocked to appraising as you spoke.
He looked down at the parchment. “I guess that is the truth part,” he sighed, running a hand through his onyx waves.
“What truth part? What are you reading? I want to see it. I don’t like when you keep things from me,” you babbled.
Azriel’s nostrils flared, his hands clenching at your words. “You don’t like it when I keep things from you? What the Hel is this?” He thrust the parchment at you, and you read:
The wings that you seek will be yours to keep,
But beware as follows, for nothing comes free:
For one to paint the sky as the winged might fly,
From them new colors will bloom like a light in fog’s gloom.
To truly grow wings, be true to oneself.
Truths may be drawn easily, like books from a shelf.
If one wishes to fly, they shall see from bird’s eye.
But prepare for a scare as you float through the air.
So long as one can endure the challenges that be,
Their wings shall grow freely, they will branch like a tree.
Your cheeks turned red, memories from the cottage flooding back to you. 
“Well, what is it?” Azriel demanded.
You bit your tongue until the metallic taste of blood coated your mouth, but the words forced their way out. “I want wings. Cassian said the Weaver might have something to help and I knew that it was stupid but I went and then this witch gave me a potion to help me grow wings. Please don’t be mad, I can’t bear upsetting you anymore,” you pled, salty tears falling down your cheeks.
Azriel’s featured softened, a scarred hand coming to cup your face as he kissed the tears away. “Hey, my love. It’s alright. I am glad that you are safe. But why would you do this? Why do you want wings?” 
You sniffled, holding his hand against your cheek as you leaned into his comforting warmth. “I see how disappointed you are, that I can’t fly with you. I see how happy you are when you are flying. You always said that you wish I knew what it feels like, and I’m tired, Azriel. Tired of weighing you down. I want to lift you up,” you admitted, the corners of your eyes stinging from crying.
“You do not bring me down. You keep me grounded. And you lift me to new heights - you challenge me in new ways, you bring me more joy than I have ever felt. You are perfect as you are,” Azriel promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You sighed, looking down at the parchment as you noticed your skin begin to change color, turning a ghostly white. “Well, as I am seems to be changing, so I hope you mean that,” you said, holding up your hand to show Azriel as the skin turned as translucent as the witch’s. 
Starting at your fingertips, the skin turned pink, then orange, followed by yellow and purple. It was as though the sky was being painted across your body, your skin turning watercolor shades of sunset. 
You turned to Azriel in horror, only to see him biting back laughter. At his expression, you couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on your lips, and Azriel followed it belly-aching laughter, bent over the bed as he turned red in the face.
“Well, that would be the ‘For one to paint the sky as the winged might fly, from them new colors will bloom like a light in fog’s gloom’ it seems. Very pretty, I must say,” he purred, bringing your purple hand to his lips as he pressed hot kisses to your skin. 
“Oh Cauldron, what else will that witch put me through?” you huffed out loud, collapsing back onto the pillows. Something jabbed your shoulders, and you hissed as you turned to the mattress to find the offender, but nothing was there. 
You took in Azriel’s expression. His jaw hung open, the Illyrian warrior frozen in shock as he stared at you. Finally, he brought a hand to your back, and you gasped at the feeling. He was touching you, but it felt like something attached to your shoulder, sensitive as his fingers traced it before stopping at the fabric of your nightgown.
“Az, is it...?” you couldn’t manage the words. Azriel simply nodded, too stunned to speak. “I guess I’m growing wings,” you said, and you couldn’t stop the excited giggle that escaped you at the proclamation. 
Your mate gave you a soft smile, hazel eyes twinkling in appreciation of your joy. Your stomach rumbled, skin changing back to its normal hue as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.
“Let’s go get you some food,” Azriel murmured, draping an arm around your waist as you ventured down to the kitchen. No sooner had you sat down than Cassian stumbled through the door, gaping at the wings growing on your back. 
“Oh my gods, you did it,” he breathed. His brow furrowed, mouth turned down as he practically ran towards you. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “You are okay, right?” 
You bit your lip, turning to Azriel who was still laughing as he focused his attention on the stove. “It seems as though the worst has pass-“ 
No sooner had the words left your lips than you began to ascend in the air. Like a puppet on a string, you were pulled up by an invisible force as you looked down at Cassian and Azriel from where you were caught against the ceiling.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Cassian murmured, the smirk on his lips disappearing as Azriel smacked the back of his head. You looked down, panicking as you yanked the fabric of your nightgown to cover as much as you were able.
Azriel groaned, removing his shirt as he tossed it up to you, the clothing longer than your dress when you put it on. 
“We forgot about the ‘If one wishes to fly, they shall see from bird’s eye. But prepare for a scare as you float through the air.’” Azriel mumbled, rubbing his temples as he and Cassian looked up at you. 
“How are you going to make that work for dinner and drinks at Rita’s later?” Cassian mused, arching a smug brow at you.
Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized that tonight was family dinner, and you were going to Rita’s to celebrate Mor and Emerie’s anniversary. “It shouldn’t last that long,” Azriel answered resolutely, drawing you from your thoughts.
You nodded down at him in agreement, some relief washing over you as you realized that you still had hours until you needed to leave. 
“Do you think you could help me get down from here?” You asked, groaning as your head thunked against the ceiling for the third time.
“I have an idea,” Cassian muttered, turning on his heel as he went back through the door towards the training ring. He returned moments later, rope in hand, as he tossed an end up to you. “Tie that to your ankle,” he instructed you. You followed his orders, letting out a surprised yelp when he tugged you back down to where you were almost to the ground. 
The general bent down, looping the rope around Azriel’s ankle when Az stopped him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“If I tie your ankles together, then she won’t float away,” Cassian answered, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Azriel sighed, waving his hand resignedly for Cassian to continue.
The half of your body that was tied to Azriel remained grounded, the other half slipping upwards consistently, awkwardly pushing you into your mate’s body. 
“We can make this work for a little while, right?” you looked to Azriel.
A small laugh left him, the shadowsinger shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to yours. “Like I said, I am with you. No matter what color you are, or how much you try to float away.” 
Hours passed, Azriel sitting with his legs crossed awkwardly on top of yours to keep you seated on the couch. Your back itched and ached from the wings that were growing shockingly quickly, the size of an Illyrian child’s at this point. 
Azriel looked pointedly at you, saying the words you knew were coming. “We have to get ready for dinner.”
Half an hour later, you found yourself hobbling down the streets of Velaris, ankle bound to Azriel’s as Cassian snickered at your other side, holding you down. 
“This is humiliating,” you grumbled, your fledgling wings twitching in anger behind you as the Illyrians kept you looped through their arms. 
“I think the punishment fits the crime,” Cassian retorted breezily, wincing as your elbow met his ribs. 
“I didn’t commit any crime,” Azriel muttered, his cheeks turning bright red as you arrived in front of the restaurant. The rest of your family was already seated, their faces in various stages of shock and amusement as they took in the sight before them. 
“What the Hel did you do, girl?” Amren questioned, sipping her wine as she eyed the wings on your back. You told them the embarrassing tale, knowing that you would never live this down, but had already concluded that this was worth it.
Azriel held you tight, his body pressed firmly against yours as you danced at Rita’s. Through the evening, he discovered the preferred way of keeping you grounded was by holding you flush to his chest, which the two of you had fun with when you got home that night.
You woke the next morning with Azriel’s wing draped across you, and you smiled before opening your eyes to see Azriel was asleep on the other side of the bed, his wings draped across himself. You startled, gasping as you sat up in bed, a slight new weight on your back sending you flopping into the mattress.
Azriel mumbled sleepily as he awoke, rubbing his eyes as he turned to you. Your mate choked on his words, eyes bulging as he took in the sight of your wings, larger than his as they spanned the entire length of the bed. 
“Oh, my gods,” he gasped, his hand instinctively reaching out to feel the thin membrane that was now apart of you. 
A small gasp left your lips, followed by a moan at the pleasurable feeling. “Cauldron, I know why you wished I had these now,” you whispered, dizzy from pleasure as you grinned up at Azriel.
He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Good morning. How do some flying lessons sound?”
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