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#but also angst between them is good too
mousequill · 4 months
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My thoughts/head cannons on Velvet and Veneer
On Veneer: I personally believe that Veneer’s sympathy stems from his goldfish he used to have. Here’s how I think it went down. Veneer, like any other little kid, probably begged his parents for a pet dog or something but his parents thought that was too much responsibility so they gave him a fish instead. Veneer might have been bitter about this, because c’mon now, that’s a boring fish and Veneer probably wanted his pet to be more entertaining (referring to his pet monkey). So he might have halfheartedly taken care of it and slowly over time he might have even grown a small bond with it but again, Veneer is a little kid and I doubt he did any research on how to properly take care of a fish (the fish probably lived in a small glass bowl with no enrichment) and of course, the fish dies despite Veneer now giving it slightly more attention. This makes Veneer guilty of course but he moves on because in the end of the day, it’s just a fish. Then much later on Floyd comes along, not in a glass bowl but similar, and this time his new ‘pet’ can actually talk to him. I personally see it as Veneer viewing Floyd as something akin to an entertaining talking hamster or something or the sort. So forming a bond with Floyd becomes a lot easier than his fish. And then Floyd begins to lose his color (much like how fish do when close to dying) and that same guilt begins to creep up on him, because internally wether he realizes or not, he sees his goldfish in Floyd, leading to him eventually helping out Floyd.
Tldr: Veneer feels guilty about killing his pet goldfish so he makes up for it by helping Floyd.
On Velvet: People need to stop making her out to be this sadistic abusive monster. She’s literally just a bratty teen diva, and arguably, also suffering from addiction from not only the fame going to her head but also actual addiction lowkey. Like, I can’t be the only one that noticed how agitated and on edge she sounded before giving herself a few doses of essence and her voice immediately going soft and relaxed. Additionally, just because she’s the stronger voice out of the two twins doesn’t mean she’s abusive to Veneer, y’all need to chill with that. Speaking of loud voices, I’m also seeing the theory that Veneer actually has talent but acts like he doesn’t to keep his sister happy, and like, I get it, considering his speaking va and his singing va are the same and he doesn’t dose himself as much as Velvet, but I think that’s simply because he doesn’t NEED his voice to be as strong as Velvet’s, he’s just the backing vocals, so of course he’s not gonna dose himself as much as her. Lastly, Velvet is a good sister to Veneer and I say this on the basis that Velvet was happy to perform with her brother at all times. She could have done a solo career and hogged all the fame and glory for herself but she didn’t. The fact that Veneer actually sassed Velvet back in two scenes (“Our parents were dentists 🙄” “Why do I have to do it 🤨” tells me that he’s not afraid of to talk back to her like some of you are making him seem out to be). Velvet loves her brother obviously, but being famous, being remembered forever, that was her DREAM, not Veneer’s, so of course she went a little aggressive with it towards the end.
Tldr: Velvet is actually a good sister and a normal teen girl acting her age.
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3-inch-doodles · 7 months
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TRON AU POST WITH ACTUAL KINDA DONE ART
"Smile for the camera, Gordon!"
(pre-Cascade virus)
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he is SO full of corporate malware <333
(post-Cascade virus and Gordon's repurposing)
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rapidhighway · 6 months
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K I've been thinking about this for like a week now. Ignoring any immortal headcanons if you have them. Knuckles knows he's not going to be able to guard the Master Emerald forever and that probably troubles him, but, if he was dying do you think he'd ask Sonic to guard it? He's the person with a unique connection to Chaos and the Chaos Emeralds and he's basically chosen one the most specialest guy, and one of the few people Knuckles could trust with that duty.
Of course I think Sonic would say no. I think he'd never be able to do that and he wouldn't want to.
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celestial-toys · 1 month
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been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying
#it’s good crying dw i am just. i have so many feelings about this story#Seven’s Celestial Commentary#Everything Stays#writing stuff#i may be stuck in bed struggling to type due to personal reasons but that will Not stop me from cooking up ideas for this fic#there is gonna be so much fucking angst and it’s gonna hurt soooooo good#the more i listen to it the more the possibilities expand#i can easily see Moon and Reader going back and forth between verses vulnerably arguing over Sun#but i can also see it being Sun and Moon getting real and discussingcougharguingover Reader#can’t decide which i like more#god i wish y’all could see this story the way it plays out in my head#next best thing would be to keep writing and sharing the story instead of vagueposting abt future plot points tho wouldn’t it lmao#and GOD don’t even get me fucking STARTED on Two Hearts…#Dermot Kennedy’s music is responsible for yet Another plot point for this story and i can’t even be mad about it. his fucking lyricsss dude#‘and so we jump to the THEATER??? in that SAME OLD TOWN???’ DO WE? FUCK I GUESS WE DO NOW!!!#picture me listening to that song and inspiration hitting me like a truck. diligently taking notes like the lyrics r instructions from God#‘she sees his face?? and HE sees HER as the LIGHTS GO DOWN???’ write that down write that down#‘the life that they should’ve had sat between them that night??’ FUCK Man yeah it sure did!!!#anyways it’s chill i’m chill. i’m very normal about my little stories and their musical inspirations!#and i’ve listened to these songs a very normal amount (translation: they will likely be in my top ten for the 2024 wrapped)#(cut to the scenes playing vividly in my head) ‘Well‚ at least I can always say that I /told/ her!’#‘I can’t relate to having a heart like that‚ Sun! With all of your wonder and your trust intact…’#like no i wouldn’t lift the lyrics directly for the song to use as dialogue but FUCk does it work well.. Lucky is such a good script for-#like- a heated conversation between my Relentlessly Positive Sun and my Apathetic Jaded Moon#‘How could our farewell mean as much as our time? Honey‚ I’ll be gone. It’s better if I’m something that you leave behind.’#‘I used to paint these trees‚ now I just scream at the sky. Honey I was wrong. Guess there’s certain things you never leave behind.’#*sobbing shaking throwing up clawing at the walls* I Am Normal About These Characters#anyways uh. on an unrelated note how many song lyrics do ya think i can cram into ES before it’s Too Many#gonna have to start getting creative with how i can incorporate more songs in a way that feels natural and not forced#even tho i am forcing it. i am forcing it very much bc i have songs with applicable lyrics and y’all Will read them one way or another
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pumaskulls · 1 year
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"Your worth is determined by your sacrifices."
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mahabharat (2013) was actaully a really beautiful, really well written, directed and acted serial and honestly i'm kinda wishing there was a fandom around it
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orcelito · 9 months
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me struggling thru the generally happier chapter bc of Circumstances
i just cant wait to finally let loose. dig my claws in like i havent gotten the chance to yet in itnl. i wanna it
#speculation nation#itnl shit#discacc readers know the kind of thing im talking about#there's angst and then there's Violence#not necessarily violence in events. though that can certainly contribute. act as a conduit for it.#but no. the violence of digging my own nails into the character's psyche#targeting their fears and insecurities with pinpoint accuracy. reducing them to blubbered tears as their world feels like it's ending#that kind of violence. honestly the kind that the manga is sooo good at doing#the kind that makes readers feel like the shocked tails meme. just as i did throughout reading the manga.#vash will have many moments of this sort of thing throughout itnl. it's inevitable.#but the first true taste of it is Soon. so soon i can taste it. and it's making it sooooooo hard to write this#i may or may not have also had bit of a brain hiccup just now that has me wanting to Dig My Claws In#i think. i need to paint my nails black.#i have something wrong with me right now and it's called grief. one more week until the memorial...#im coping by wanting to dig my claws in. which. my nails r getting kind of long. thus the Claws#i havent trimmed them in a few weeks. not since he died. i think im going to let them keep growing. at least until the memorial.#itnl writing will likely continue to be difficult. i keep mood swinging between manic and morose.#it's making it difficult to get anything done. writing or otherwise.#im hoping tomorrow won't be too awful at work. i think i'd benefit from spending some time in the woods.#i need to decompress. the woods are good for that. and maybe that will stave off the insanity. for at least one more day.
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moonlesslights · 11 months
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Miguel O’hara in Love
Headcanons.
━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━
A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.
Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)
This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.
Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍
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Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.
You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.
And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.
What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.
The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.
He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.
You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.
“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”
You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.
“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.
“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”
“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”
The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.
That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.
“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.
You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.
“For real?”
“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”
His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.
“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.
He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.
Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.
No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.
Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.
Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.
“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.
Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.
History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.
You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.
No. You would never find out about that.
Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.
But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.
“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:
“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.
“I know.”
“You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”
He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.
He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.
“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.
“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.
“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”
That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?
Were you really that bored?
“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.
You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.
“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”
You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.
Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.
He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.
You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?
“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.
He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.
When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
You nod without waiting for another question.
“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.
It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.
Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.
He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal…
Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.
He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.
With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.
“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”
“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.
“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”
Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”
“Miguel…”
“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”
When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.
“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.
“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.
“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.
You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.
It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.
His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.
The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.
“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.
“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.
“Need help?”
You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”
“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.
But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.
You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.
Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.
His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.
“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.
“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”
“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.
But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.
“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.
“I’m…”
“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.
And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.
And then… A call.
He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.
His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.
“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.
“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.
“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”
And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.
“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”
He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.
“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.
“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”
The woman, for the first time, remains silent.
“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”
A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.
She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.
She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.
Miguel wanted to own you.
He wasn’t good at hiding it.
His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.
Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.
But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.
When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.
“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.
He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.
“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.
You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.
The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.
You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.
“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.
“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.
You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.
You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.
But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.
“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.
You nod.
“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.
“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.
He was so close, he just needed…
“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.
You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.
He was ready for the next round.
Thank you so much for coming all this way!
PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.
This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.
I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.
Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3
PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!
PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.
13K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 7 months
Text
Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie…" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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genderlessdude92 · 27 days
Text
GENTLE, PLEASE
NSFW FIC
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PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader
SUMMARY:Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off).
WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)
!!TRANSLATING MY WORK OR COPYING IT IS NOT APPRECIATED (But thanks for liking it :3)!!
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Alastor was a man of his word.
Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.
“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”
Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.
But, did he?
What was real pleasure?
“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”
Another time.
Did he want another time?
“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”
The look he gave you.
Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.
She threw the piece of plastic across the room.
She had to give him something.
when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
22:10 PM
She couldn’t sleep.
Was she good enough?
Ugh.
She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.
She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.
Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.
Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.
Knock knock knock
Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.
“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.
She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.
“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.
Fuck.
He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.
Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.
“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.
Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.
That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.
Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.
“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.
He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.
Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.
You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell
Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”
Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.
She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-
“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.
Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.
…Holy fuck.
Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.
None.
“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”
Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.
The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.
Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.
Oh god, what do i say?
“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.
Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.
Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.
“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.
Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”
As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.
The lingerie that she wore the night before.
see what i did there
As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…
That she didn’t change from last night.
Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.
Now you’re bra-less.
Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.
Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.
Dirty landry.
Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.
“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.
Fuck yeah, it was hot.
Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.
he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.
…but…it didn’t feel right.
Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,
“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.
She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.
“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.
Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…
“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-
“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.
Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.
It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.
Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.
She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,
“May I, darling?~”
Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.
He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”
Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.
But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.
She wanted more.
“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.
She needed more.
He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.
Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.
Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.
Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.
Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-
It was seriously…thick.
She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,
“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”
Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.
Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.
…she opened for him.
When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.
His dick physically throbbed more.
After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.
Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.
-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.
What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.
“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.
Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-
“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.
Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.
Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.
After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.
“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”
How is she so tight?
Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.
…was this too slow?
Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.
She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”
Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“
“Alastor, fuck me.”
That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.
Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.
He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.
“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.
“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.
“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.
Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,
“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.
As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,
Positioning her into a breeding press.
“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.
Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-
“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”
He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.
And Y/N was completely fine with it.
But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?
Just made her feel like there was no control.
“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.
Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,
…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.
He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”
That’s when the coil snapped.
The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
23:04 PM
Y/N was exhausted.
“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.
Y/N groaned like a toddler.
“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.
after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.
…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.
Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.
He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.
Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.
“…Hey…Al?”
“mhm?”
“…I love you…”
He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,
“…I love you two, as well.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
BONUS ☆♪
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“
Angel stared at the sight before him.
Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.
“…Don’t-“
“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”
Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.
And which, he probably was.
“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”
“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”
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NOTE: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭 (we aren’t counting my slender x wife!reader fic from 2016 that got 11k notes help it wasn’t even that good-) But let’s be fr, tips and comments are appreciated! I’m also taking reqs but only Alastor ones for now <3 oki baiiii
-Genderlessdude92, Kiki
MY MASTERLIST!! (Click me :D)
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 7 : Sweet Strawberry
Summary: You're not a soldier, you're just an omega. You shouldn't have to remind them of that, yet you find yourself needing to. Price makes it up to you in the best way possible.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, fluff, suggestive content, terrible flirting
A/N: Not entirely happy with it but it's done and I can move on from this one. I struggled so much with this chapter omg. Also, I just wanted to make it clear that I am not from the UK, I've never been to the UK, I'm simply going off of prior knowledge and what Google can tell me. So, if there's any inaccuracies, I am so sorry.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You’re expecting the knock when it comes. You’d been standing in front of your door for almost five minutes, and you get it open almost before he’s finished, hand still raised. He gives no sign that betrays his surprise, if he feels any at all, instead he simply looks you over before turning on his heel and marching towards the door. 
You close your door behind you, slipping down the hallway after him. It’s raining again, though you had prepared for that, flipping the hood of your jacket up as you hurry after Ghost. He threatens to disappear in the darkness of morning, slipping between the street lamps like a specter. It’s not often you get to see the true danger in them, the threats that they pose, the things that make them good at their job. You can imagine how many on his opposing side have been caught unawares by the way he seems to flow with the darkness around him. 
You are significantly less graceful and quiet, feet slapping the wet pavement as you speed walk to keep up with the giant alpha. You can almost imagine the look on his face as you plod along behind him. If your lives depended on your silence at this moment, well, it wouldn’t entirely have been your fault. If he didn’t walk so fucking fast...
He’s at least courteous enough to hold the door open for you, though perhaps that was simply something that was deeply ingrained in him. Manners that become unconscious practice, even when you despise the person you’re with. He leads you down the hall towards the practice room again, unlocking it and flipping on the lights. He empties his pockets and removes his shoes and sweatshirt, before moving to one of the punching bags. 
You can already predict what your lesson today will entail. Your knuckles have almost completely healed since your little fit a week ago. You quickly strip off your jacket and toe off your wet shoes, moving to join him without having to be told. 
“Do you know how to wrap your hands?” He asks, holding out two rolls of hand wraps. 
“No.” You shake your head. It’s not entirely true. They had shown you once while you were with the CIA, but that had been weeks ago and you’re sure you’ve forgotten the right way to do it. Even if you tried, he’d likely sigh and do it himself anyway. 
He lets out a breath, pocketing one of the wraps before grabbing your right wrist. His hands are just as rough as you remember them being the day you punched Corporal Allen, calluses dragging against your skin as he meticulously wraps the fabric around your fingers. You watch him, trying to memorize how to do it in hopes that maybe, eventually, you’ll surprise him and manage it yourself. 
He finishes your hands quickly before wrapping his own. You flex your hands, trying to get used to the feeling of the wraps. They’re not too tight, shockingly. You had half expected him to choke your fingers until they’re purple just because. But, you also know Price will be looking for any mark or sign of injury as soon as he sees you at breakfast. The thought of him laying into Ghost for even a bruise as your stomach twisting, and not in a bad way. 
“Make a fist.” Ghost says, crossing his arms as he stands in front of you. 
You stare at his bulging muscles for a second too long, quickly curling your fingers as your face warms. 
He takes hold of your hand, inspecting your fist. “Not bad.” 
“I did grow up with brothers.” You murmur. 
“Did they ever hit you?” He asks as he turns you to face the boxing bag. 
“Only playfully.” You say, missing the subtle edge to his voice. “Dad would have caved their heads in if they ever tried.” 
You can’t see the way he’s staring at you as he stands slightly behind you, but you can feel his gaze as it lingers for just a second longer than you expected it to. You’re not sure if maybe he doesn’t believe you, or maybe he knows there’s more to the story. You’ve hardly spoken about your family since your arrival, but they seemed to accept the fact that they haven’t been your family for years now as a valid reason.
“Get into your fighting stance.” He finally says, moving around you as you take the stance you had perfected last training session. “Good.” He says, looking you over. “Now throw a punch at the bag.” 
You squeeze your fists, imagining Corporal Allen’s face on the bag before you throw a punch, barely managing to move the bag. 
“Punches like that are what will get you hurt.” Ghost says, extending your arm. “You can throw your weight, which is good. That’s why you were able to throw Allen off his feet. You’re asking for a broken arm, though. Keep your arm flat and facing downwards through the entire punch. Aim with the knuckles and twist your lower body for support.” 
He throws a punch at the bag, the sound of his fist hitting it loud, and you watch the bag swing back and forth violently. He could probably punch through you if he wanted to. Your pitiful punch wouldn’t even stun him. 
He stops the bag from swinging, having you throw repeated punches at it. He fixes your form and technique as you go, teaching you different kinds of punches. Your arms quickly get tired, and you know you’re going to be sore again. Maybe you should take up some weight lifting or something. You could ask Soap to help you. 
You go until your arms feel like they're going to fall off, your shoulders burning. “I can't anymore.” You whine, breathing heavily from the exertion of throwing punches for 30 minutes. 
“You have to learn to push through the pain.” He says, looming over you. “You think in a fight, everyone will just stop because your arms are tired? Or you're a little sore?”
He has a point. 
You take half a step back as he invades your space, leaning down close to you. “If they're out for blood, they won't even stop even as you're bleeding out in front of them.” His eyes are dark, biting into you, speaking volumes of his knowledge and experience. You wonder how many times he's been in that situation, how many times he's had to fight quite literally for his life. He steps away from you, moving towards the center of the mat. “Come on. I'll teach you some combinations.” 
You don't want to follow him. You want to curl up in a corner and nap for the next four hours. You don't doubt he'll find a way to force you, though, so you move to the center of the mat with a sigh. 
He teaches you different combinations, working through them over and over. You're sloppy, mixing up which punch is which, which move means what. It only gets worse as you get more and more tired, but Ghost is relentless. 
Finally after almost an hour and a half of training, he calls it. Your legs are shaking and you can barely lift your arms to unravel the wraps from around your hands. You sink onto the floor, laying out flat on the padding as you try to catch your breath. 
“Come on.” Ghost says, lacing up his shoes. “You'll have time to shower before breakfast if we get back now.”
“Wait. Just gimme a minute.” You breathe, not even sure you have the willpower to get up from the floor, much less the muscle power. 
He lets out a sigh before approaching you, bending down to slip his hands under your arms. “On your feet, soldier.”
He lifts you easily, far too easily. Your legs shake, nearly giving out as you're forced onto them. You pout, ignoring the ache in your bones as you're forced upright. 
“‘M not a soldier.” You murmur. 
“In here with me, you are. You want to learn to fight, you get treated just like everyone else I've taught.” He says, glowering down at you. “Now get your shoes on and let's go.”
Your brows pull into a frown, but you do as he says, slipping your shoes back on and your jacket. You had hoped perhaps he would have a little mercy, given your status and inexperience, but it seems you're not even being awarded that. You know part of it is his revenge for you invading his protective circle around Soap, for kissing Soap in front of him. 
The frown doesn't leave your face as you follow him back to the barracks, having to almost run to keep up with him. 
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“You look tired.”
“I am. I had training with Ghost again this morning.” 
“How is that going?”
“It's hard.” You admit, sinking back in your chair. “He's hard on me. He sees me as a soldier, not an omega.”
“Have you brought this up to him?” Dr. Keller asks, crossing her feet as she relaxes on the couch across from you.
You nod. “Yeah. He said I have to push through it, because if I wind up in a real fight, they won't go easy on me.”
“Well, I can’t say he’s wrong about that. But, that’s still no excuse.” Dr. Keller tilts her head at you. “You could bring it up to Captain Price. He is your pack alpha, and he’s also Lieutenant Riley’s. I don’t doubt he’d bring it up to him on your behalf.” 
He would, but you don’t really want to stir the pot in that way. The last thing you need to do is become a tattle-tail. It’s quiet between you for a few moments, Dr. Keller shuffling her papers as you mark a clear end to that conversation. 
“How did you do on your assignment? I see you’re wearing a different sweatshirt this morning.” She says, eyeing you. 
You’re wearing Price’s sweatshirt, the one he gifted you. You’ve been wearing it almost every day, his scent still clinging to the fabric. Your face warms as she stares at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, but...I didn’t ask for this one. Price gave it to me after I told him about where my other one came from. I uh...I kissed Soap. And Gaz.” 
“Oh?” Her brows raise, and she writes something down on the paper. Your face warms even more as you watch her pen move with every letter. You can only imagine what she’s putting down. “Is that something you wanted? I know we talked briefly about it last time.” She says.
You nod. “Yes. I did want it. I...I also...kneeled...with Price...Did a couple times actually...” 
Dr. Keller’s mouth opens in surprise, her eyes shining as she looks at you. “You did? That’s huge! That’s an incredible development! Did you initiate, or did he?” 
“I did.” You say bashfully, sinking back further into the chair. “Both times.” 
Dr. Keller smiles at you, looking almost proud. “This is a big step in the right direction. How did it go? Were you able to relax?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It was nice. He was...gentle. He did it right.” 
“Good. How did you do coming down from it? I know it can be intense and difficult for some omegas.” She asks. 
You shrug. “Fine. I felt it a bit the morning after, but it wasn’t too bad. I fell asleep on him both times.” 
“Oh?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Did you stay with him?” 
You shake your head. “No, Gaz took me to my room both times.” 
“Good. That’s good practice, for when your heat comes. Shows how much trust they have in each other.”
You hadn’t really thought of that. There was a lot of trust involved in omega’s heats. Omegas have to trust their alphas to take care of them while they’re blind with insatiable need, but both alpha and omega have to trust a beta to keep them alive. Your heat will trigger Price’s rut and make him lose control for a while, and it will be up to Gaz to keep you both fed and hydrated. He’ll be the one to help you both afterwards as well.
“Have you started nesting yet?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You shake your head. “No. Don’t feel any drive to either.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she writes something down. “Well, it has only been two weeks. Though, perhaps if you can manage to ask for some things to make your space more comfortable, that might help ease you into it.” 
You chew on your lip, tugging at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You know she’s right. Until you’re comfortable and feel safe enough, you won’t feel the drive to nest. You’ll need to nest before your heat arrives. Otherwise, it’ll cause issues for both you and Price. 
“When...when should I be worried?” You ask. 
“Hmm...” Dr. Keller looks at her calendar. “If you’re not feeling any sort of drive to nest by our next appointment, then I’d say we may need to consider using some exercises to help jump start it.” 
“Exercises?” You ask warily. 
“All easy things.” She reassures you. “Things like scent introductions, tactile explorations, and some bonding exercises might be helpful as well.” She writes something down on a sticky note. “I’ll explain everything in detail and you’ll get to choose whether you want to do any of it or not. No one’s going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, alright?” 
Tears prick your eyes at her words, and you furiously blink them back. It’s a little late for that kind of sentiment. Your presence here alone was thanks to a long line of people forcing you to do things you’re not comfortable with. It was easy to get lost in the excitement and the emotions of bonding with a pack, easy to forget that you would never have chosen this place had you ever been given the option to choose. 
You would have gone far from the military, far from this kind of life. It’s your duty to bond with an alpha, but what if you don’t want to? What if it’s all a front, and as soon as you’re claimed the curtains rise and suddenly everything is different? What if Price isn’t as kind as you’ve come to believe him? Just one squeeze too tightly around the back of your neck while you’re kneeling and everything would change. 
How easily he could take everything from you. 
“You want to talk about what’s going on in your head right now?” Dr. Keller asks, breaking the silence between you two.
You hadn’t even noticed you’d been staring off into space, lost in your thoughts. Of course she knows something’s changed. She’s spent years learning the ins and outs of omegas and all the secrets you can only imagine. She’s probably just as in tune with subtle changes as the four well trained soldiers that make up your new pack. Maybe even more in tune with them. 
You shake your head, keeping your gaze on the floor. 
“Remember nothing shared in this room leaves this room. It’ll always only be between us.” She says softly. 
You’re panicking. You can feel the pressure rising within you. You’re like a grenade and someone is about to pull the pin. You’re afraid you’ll spill everything to her, afraid you’ll let out things you’ve successfully kept buried for years and years. Things you’ve left behind, things you’ve had to move on from. Things you can’t afford to let out now. 
“I’d like to be done now.” You silently curse the way your voice shakes. 
Dr. Keller’s brows pull into a frown but she nods. “Okay.” She slips her papers into her notebook before standing. “Let me grab my keys.” 
You stand as she moves to her desk, grabbing her keys from the drawer. She leads you from her office, thankfully staying quiet as you walk through the rain towards the barracks. You’re still panicking, the turmoil inside you probably projecting the sour scent across the entire courtyard but you don’t care. You can’t. 
“Remember, if you ever need anything, I’m usually in my office.” Dr. Keller says as she drops you off at the door. 
You feel guilty as you hurry to your room, shoes squeaking on the tile. You feel bad for cutting the appointment off early, you feel bad for feeling the way you do. Later you’ll be grateful for Dr. Keller respecting your boundaries and not pushing, for following through with her promise and letting you be in control of the appointment. 
Right now you don’t care. Right now you can’t care. You’re too lost in your turmoil, the bitter scent of your distress seeping out from under the locked door. 
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“...can ye talk tae me, hen? Let me know yer alright?” 
The soft voice coming through the closed door pulls you out from your burrow under the thin blanket. You blink blearily at your phone, trying to see the time. It’s just a little past the normal time you go to lunch with them. How long have they been knocking on the door? 
“Come on, lass.” Soap’s voice comes through the door again. “I dinnae want tae have tae kick in the door.” 
You force yourself out from under the blanket, pocketing your phone before quickly moving to your door. You throw it open, Soap’s eyes immediately scanning you as you rub tiredly at your eyes. You don’t doubt he’d kick in your door if he felt he had to. 
“Sorry,” You yawn. “I was asleep.” 
His eyebrows raise as he stares down at you. “Ye were asleep? Ye weren’t kidding about bein’ a heavy sleeper.” He leads you from the barracks, crossing the courtyard towards the mess.
“One time, when I was about two or three, my dad took us to some demonstration on base.” You say as you begin walking to the mess with him. “I fell asleep about halfway through and slept through a howitzer going off.” 
Soap lets out a laugh so loud it echoes in the courtyard. “Ye slept through a howitzer?” 
You nod. “Yup. My dad never let me live it down. I heard it all the time. ‘You’ll have to try hard to wake her, she slept through a howitzer once.’” 
Soap chuckles, leading you into the mess. “Ye are a deep sleeper.” 
You shrug. “I did say so. My phone will wake me up though. Alarms, calls.” 
“I’ll keep tha’ in mind.” He says as he guides you through the line, making your tray for you. 
You sit between Price and Gaz as usual, feeling a bit on edge still despite your nap after your appointment. You hadn’t gotten to sleep for very long, not nearly long enough to clear your head completely. You know they can tell, Gaz slowly shifting closer and closer to you, Price’s gaze flickering to you out of the corner of his eye every so often. Even Ghost’s eyes pass over you every so often as they sweep across the mess. 
You wonder if he feels responsible. 
You hope he does. 
Soap walks you back to the barracks after lunch and you spend the afternoon burrowed under your blanket again. You’re exhausted and sore after a long morning of training and your appointment. You wish you could sink back into sleep, let the emotions pass without you having to feel them, but you’re too awake now. Too aware of them as they prickle in the back of your mind. 
Dinner passes without incident, but you can’t ignore the feelings still stirring within you. You feel agitated and on edge, not even pacing your room helping you. You let out a breath before you put your slippers on, slipping out of your door. You make your way down the hallway, turning right instead of left like you would if you were heading for the rec room. The door is cracked open and you pause just before you reach it, suddenly feeling nervous. You shouldn’t really. There was no reason to be nervous, yet you can’t help the urge in the back of your mind to turn tail and race back down the hallway to the safety of your room. 
“You can come in, unless you’d prefer standing in the hallway all evening.” A voice calls from inside the office. 
Your face warms a bit at getting caught, but he could probably hear you coming down the hallway. He could probably smell you too. 
You push open the door, slipping inside before closing it behind you. Price stares at you from his desk as you stand there, shifting nervously on your feet. You feel agitated, on edge still. You’re worked up, and you don’t quite know why. 
“Everything alright?” Price asks, likely picking up on your nervous energy. 
Yes. You want to say, but then you’d have to come up with a reason as to why you sought him out, why you feel so worked up. You could just kneel for him. It’s what you should do, let yourself be eased into a peaceful state of mind. Let him take care of you. 
 “I don’t know.” 
The words are hardly more than a whisper, your voice trembling just as much as you are. Your chest feels tight, your breaths becoming shallow. You're not sure when he got up, when he even moved. His scent wraps around you, warmth encompassing your being as your face is pushed against his chest. 
“I need you to breathe for me.” Price says, pressing your ear against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart, the air flowing in and out of his lungs. 
You close your eyes, trying to match your breaths to his. It's hard, your body fighting your attempt to regulate it. You close your eyes, focusing on the soft fabric of Price's shirt against your cheek, the warmth of his hand on your head as he keeps you pinned against his chest. It's not constricting or suffocating. It's grounding, keeping you from drowning in your own thoughts. 
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to as he holds you there, letting you calm down. You begin to slowly relax, your arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. 
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” He murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head. 
“I don’t know.” You whisper, still clinging to his shirt. “I’m just...I feel off. Ghost was being hard on me this morning and then I got upset during my appointment and I’ve just felt on edge all day and I can’t relax because I can’t get comfortable!” 
Price tightens his grip around you just slightly. “What do you mean?” 
You huff out a breath, squeezing your eyes closed so the tears don’t escape as the words leave you in a flood before you can stop them. “The blankets aren’t soft enough and the pillows are too thin and it’s too dark and I’m tired of smelling like bland soap!” 
Price hums quietly, squeezing you gently as a tear slides down your cheek. “Then we should do something to fix that.” 
“But I shouldn’t need it!” You cry, trying to push away from him, but he keeps you tight against his chest. “I’m supposed to be a good omega and adapt and learn to be comfortable where I am.” 
“That might be what you were taught,” He says, letting you push away from his chest, but he wraps his hands around your arms, keeping you in front of him. “But things don’t have to be that way. We should have taken care of something like this sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t even think of it. You shouldn’t have had to ask for it.” 
You blink up at him, genuinely surprised by his words. “I...what?” 
“We all have our own little comforts that we keep. Soap sleeps with a stuffed bear. Don’t tell him I told you that.” 
A small smile tugs at your lips at the mental image of Soap snuggling up with a teddy bear. 
“You deserve some comfort too.” He says, squeezing your arms.
“But, it’s not...regulation.” You say. 
“Doesn’t have to be.” He says. “You’re not a soldier. Even then, the only ones going in there are us. The only thing I can’t approve of is painting the walls. Unfortunately the prison grey has to stay.” 
You can’t help but laugh, wiping the tear from your cheek. “I suppose that’s alright. Just...as long as it’s not as dark and maybe a soft blanket or something. That’s really all I need.” 
He hums, staring down at you. You can’t quite figure out the look on his face, something shining in his eyes. “We’ll get it figured out.” He says, squeezing your arms again. 
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“Get some shoes on. We’re going on a trip.” 
You look up from your book, staring at Price as he stands in the rec room. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, arms crossed as he stares down at you on the couch. You mark your place in your book, pushing yourself up to sit. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and unlike last week they had the day off, which means you do as well. 
“Are you going to make me hike through the woods for two hours again, sir?” You ask, pushing yourself up to stand. 
“No. We’re going into town.” He says. 
You blink at him. You haven’t been off base since you arrived, and you figured you probably wouldn’t be getting that opportunity any time soon. “Can I ask why, sir?” 
“We’ve got some shopping to do.” He says simply, turning and leaving the rec room. 
You stand there shocked for a moment before you’re following after him, slipping into your room to put comfortable shoes on and grab your phone and a jacket. You don’t even have a wallet to carry around to make yourself feel better. 
Price is waiting by the door for you, a car parked outside. You’re slow to approach him, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions. He’s doing this for you. He’d really taken your conversation last night to heart and now he’s going to go spend money on you that he doesn’t need to. 
“What’s that look for sweetheart?” He asks, standing in front of the door. 
“You don’t have to do this.” You say, staring up at him. He seems so tall like this, so...imposing. 
“Course I do.” He says, his gaze softening just slightly. “Should have done it sooner. You deserve to be comfortable too.” He says, turning to open the door. 
You follow him out, climbing into the car when he opens the door for you. He gets in the driver’s seat, the car rumbling to life. He drives to the front gate, passing off two ID cards to the guards. He passes one to you when the guard hands them back, the gate in front of you opening. 
“That’s your ID card. Gets you on and off base.” He explains as he drives away from the gate. “I doubt you’ll be leaving on your own, but just in case.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, slipping the card under your phone case for the time being. 
He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “You can call me John, if you'd like. You don't need to be formal when we're in private.” 
“Yes, sir.” You make a face, biting your lip at your automatic response. “Sorry. Old habits.” 
“From the institute?” He asks. 
You shake your head. “My dad, actually. He was a firm believer in respecting authority figures. All ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ by the time we were old enough to know the difference.” 
“Sounds like my father.” He says, staring out at the road ahead. “Old grizzled military man.” 
“Do you still have contact with him?” You ask curiously. You don’t know much of anything about their families, their backgrounds.
“Not really. Beyond holidays, neither of us really make an effort to talk to the other. After mum passed, there wasn’t much to talk about.” He says. 
“She was the glue.” You say, watching the trees pass by the car. 
“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “As betas usually are.”
“Do you have any siblings?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. You know next to nothing about them, while they likely know your entire life story. 
“No,” He shakes his head. “Just me. You have a lot of siblings.” 
You nod. “Seven at the time I left for the institute. Could be more now.” 
“They never tried to keep contact with you?” He asks. 
“Nope.” You turn to look out the window. “The institute didn’t really encourage it either, because we were being prepared to join new packs. That’s hard to do when you still have bonds with your old ones. I think they might have forcibly ended some. I know there were some omegas that tried to keep contact, but it became less and less until eventually it just stopped.” 
Price’s hands tighten around the steering wheel just slightly. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention. Silence settles in the car as he drives, farmlands passing until the houses start getting closer and closer together. You stare at the buildings as he drives through town, a blend of historical and modern. 
“It’s beautiful here.” You say, watching people and cars pass by. 
“I suppose so.” He says, glancing at you. “I grew up in this area.” 
You turn to look at him. “You did? I didn’t know that. Then again, I don’t know much about any of you.” 
“You can ask us, you know.” He says. “We don’t have to be that secretive with you. At least not about ourselves.” 
He pulls into a parking lot, opening your door for you and helping you out of the car. You slip your hand into his, holding it as you cross the parking lot. You stare up at the store. ASDA. You’ve never heard of it before, though you suppose the stores would be different here too. 
Price drops your hand to grab a cart, the store bustling with people. You hang onto the edge of the cart, staying close to Price’s side. “We’re here for you.” He says, guiding you through the aisles. “Get whatever you want.” 
He’s led you to the homegoods section, your eyes widening at the entire aisle of blankets and bedding in front of you. You try to take it all in, but you feel a bit overwhelmed. There’s so many choices, so many options. 
“Pick out as many as you want. Don’t worry about the price.” He says, before you can protest. “We get paid decently, but don’t have many chances to use it. Let me do this for you.” 
You stare up into his eyes, the sincerity in them, before you nod, turning back to the wall of blankets before you. You study them, running your hand along them to find the softest ones, doing as he says and ignoring the price tags. You settle on a couple soft ones, grabbing a throw blanket as well that you can pack around to the rec room if you want to. He takes you to the pillow aisle, and you settle on a pair of fluffy pillows, as well as a couple decorative ones as well. 
“Here.” He slips a big plush strawberry into your arms before you leave the aisle, your cheeks warming as you look at it. “Makes me think of you.” 
You preen at his words, holding onto the strawberry as you make for the lamps and nightlights, settling on a cat shaped one that will sit on your desk and changes colors. You pick up a few other items before heading for the toiletries, finally setting the strawberry in the cart as you zero in on the soaps and body washes. You smell all the strawberry scented ones, trying to find the perfect one. 
“Why strawberry?” Price asks as you put a strawberries and cream scented body wash in the cart. 
“Compliments my scent.” You explain as he leads you to the shampoo and conditioner. “We had a scent specialist come to the institute one time as an activity. We all figured out what our scents smell like and what notes compliment them the best.” 
An arm wraps around your waist before you can look at the shampoo, pulling you back against a broad chest. Price’s nose presses into your neck and he inhales deeply. He lets out a content hum, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. “I think you’re right.” 
Your face burns hot as he presses a gentle kiss against the side of your neck before releasing you. You stand there for a moment, trying to calm the heat rushing through your body and focus on the shampoo. You hear him chuckle as you shuffle forward, your face still burning as you smell the shampoo bottles. 
You settle on one, holding onto Price’s arm as you continue around the store, picking up a few other items and a couple for himself as well before heading to the checkout. 
You hold on to Price’s arm as you leave the store, sticking close to him as he loads the bags into the trunk. You can feel the slight tension in his body, the way his eyes scan the parking lot every few seconds. You can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to relax, especially out in public. How fast his mind has to be running, how alert he is to everyone and everything. A threat could come out of nowhere, could come from anyone. 
It must be exhausting. 
“Hungry, sweetheart?” He asks as he buckles his seatbelt. 
“Always.” You answer, leaning on the center console.
He smiles. “What are you in the mood for?” 
You blink at him. Most of the restaurants you know probably don’t exist in England. “Fish and chips?” You offer, pulling up the one British food you’re confident in naming. 
“Fish and chips it is.” He says, turning on the car. 
“I have yet to have real fish and chips.” You say, settling into the passenger seat. 
“Well, I know the perfect place.” He says, pulling out of the parking lot. 
You don’t have to go far before he’s parking on the street and helping you out of the car. His hand settles on your lower back, guiding you down the street to a fish and chips shop. 
It's too early for the dinner rush, the shop mostly empty and quiet. Price orders for you before guiding you to a table, and you let him sit facing the door and front window. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. They seem so relaxed on base, though you suppose that's the place they feel the most comfortable. You can't even imagine the kinds of things they've seen, the horrors they've been subjected to. 
You don't want to think about the things they've done. 
Your eyes snap downwards as Price's hand slides across the table, closing around yours. You don't want to think about the things he's done with those hands. The lives he's taken, the people he's tortured. Will he ever turn those hands on you? 
They've given you no reason to fear them yet. They've all been kind, polite. Even Ghost hasn't truly given you a reason to fear him, despite his obvious disapproval and hard exterior. 
You know nothing about them. 
You've known them for just over two weeks. You can't possibly have any understanding of who they are, how they express their emotions. What if they get upset? What happens when they get angry? What if you anger them?
“I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Any of it.” Price says, drawing you from your worried thoughts. “I know you were taught to expect this, perhaps not this exact situation, but something like this. Being sent off to some strange alpha to join their pack, bonding with complete strangers. None of us were expecting this either. It’s been an adjustment in a lot of ways, but I want you to know that we’ll take care of you. You need anything, you tell us. You want anything, we’ll do our best to make it happen. We’ll keep you safe.” He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I promise you that.” 
You want to believe him. You really do. They haven’t given you any reason to not believe it. 
It’s only been two weeks. 
You continue to talk with him as you eat, making light conversation, getting to know him a bit more. Despite the trickling uncertainty in the back of your mind, it feels good. It feels like a date, something you had dreamed of before you presented, something you had imagined happening when you finally got old enough to start looking for potential mates and packs. 
Of course, back then, you had thought you’d be an alpha. 
It had been expected of you. 
Price has his arm wrapped around you as you walk back to the car, his hand on your hip. It’s possessive almost, and it makes your stomach flutter. Price is the only one you haven’t kissed yet, well, besides Ghost, but you’re certain you’d wind up through a wall if you even thought of trying. It’s almost ironic that Price would be the last, considering he’s going to be the one claiming you, the one you spend your heat with. 
You stare out the window as the buildings fade into farmlands again. The sun is setting, painting the world in oranges and reds. You still feel a bit warm from Price’s possessive hold on you, his teasing in the store. You can still feel the tickle of his beard on your skin, his lips pressing against your neck. 
You jump when rough fingers trail down your arm, pulling it from where it had been resting in your lap. 
“You were right.” Price says as he lifts your hand to his face, pressing his nose against your wrist and inhaling for a moment. “Strawberries are the strongest note in your scent.” He lowers your hand again, lacing your fingers together. “What’s got you all worked up over there.” 
You stare at him, your face getting warm again. Of course he can smell it. You can smell the muskiness beginning to form around the edges of his scent. Desire. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” You say, moving his hand into your lap. “You're the only one that hasn't...well, besides Ghost.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “You sound disappointed.” 
You untangle your fingers with his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. “What if I am?”
His fingers flex against your leg, the muskiness of his scent strengthening. “Then maybe we should fix that.” 
The cocktail of scents in the car is intoxicating, and you feel bad for the poor beta soldier at the gate when Price rolls down the window to hand off your IDs. 
Price is out of the car as soon as it's parked, moving around to your side to open the door. He pins you against the side of the car as soon as you're out, caging you in with his arms. 
You stare up at him, head swimming with the musk laced in his scent. You can see his eyes shining in the light next to the door of the barracks. He looks like a hungry wolf, the back of your neck prickling with excitement. 
He leans down, breath fanning your face as he gets closer and closer to you. You press yourself against him, hands gripping his shoulders as he presses his lips to yours. His lips are surprisingly soft, his beard tickling your face. He growls quietly against your lips, pushing you harder against the side of the car. 
You let out a quiet sound in response, hands gripping his jacket. His hands slide from the car to your sides, sliding down to grip your hips. You can feel the muscle hidden beneath his jacket and shirt, the strength that he possesses. He may not be purebred like Ghost, but he’s still every inch an alpha. 
You let out another quiet sound as he pulls away, pressing a caste kiss to the corner of your lips. “Bloody hell, now I know what those boys were on about.” He breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. 
“They were talking about me?” You ask, pulling back slightly. 
“Only good things.” Price grins, leaning down to kiss you again. “Sweet as sugar.” He breathes, kissing you again. “And just as addicting.” He pulls away from you, his hands resting on your waist. “We should get your stuff inside so you can get it all set up. Want me to fetch one of the boys to help?” 
You bite your lip. “Or you could just do it.” 
He stares down at you, something flashing across his face but you can’t quite make it out in the low light. “You’re sure?” His voice is quiet, taking on that soft tone it often does when he speaks to you. 
“You’ll have to eventually.” You shrug. “Might as well start now.” 
He leans down, kissing you again before pulling away, opening up the trunk. He grabs most of the bags, only leaving the pillows for you to grab before he leads the way into the barracks. You open your door, stepping in first before he follows. You dump your pillows on the bed, and he sets the rest of the bags on your desk. 
“Blankets in the wash.” You say, digging them out of the bags, pulling the tags off. 
“I’ll take them.” He says, fishing out his stuff from the bags before taking the blankets from you. 
You switch out your pillows for the softer ones, organizing the decorative ones just the way you want. You squish the strawberry to your chest again, a smile forming on your face before you flop back onto the bed, sinking into the soft pillows. It’s almost perfect, you think. 
“Comfortable?” Price’s voice rumbles in the doorway, a smile on his face as he stares at you. 
“Much better.” You say, sitting up and placing the strawberry in its place. 
The two of you finish taking everything out of the bags, decorating the rest of your room. The posters on the walls, and the nightlight on your desk. It feels far more homey already, and you know you’re going to sleep well tonight once the blankets are out of the wash. 
“Thank you.” You say, looking up at Price. “This really means a lot.” 
“All in a day’s work, love.” He says, pulling you into his arms again. 
You lean against his chest, resting your head over his heart, listening to it beat steadily against your ear. 
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You wake up suddenly, yet you’re not quite sure why. There’s no one in your room, your new nightlight easily showing you that. Your mouth is dry, but there’s a line of wetness down your chin. You reach across your nightstand, your phone illuminating the time. 
Just past one a.m. 
You smack your lips, feeling thirsty after the excitement of the day. You’d forgotten to grab water when you left the rec room and you huff out a sigh. You don’t want to get up, but now that you’re aware you’re thirsty, there’s no stopping those thoughts. 
You don’t even bother with slippers as you pad to the door, opening it up. You leave it cracked as you sleepily shuffle towards the rec room, the barracks almost dead quiet this late. You grab a bottle from the fridge, unscrewing the top before drinking a few gulps. It’s cold and tastes divine, soothing the dryness of your mouth. You screw the top back on, closing the fridge before heading back towards your room. 
You turn the corner, still half asleep, nearly yelping as you slam into a chest. You stumble back a couple steps, staring up at the covered face looming over you. You gulp, holding the bottle to your chest. 
“S-Sorry.” You stutter. 
“You’re out of bed.” He says quietly, voice rumbling in the silence. 
“Thirsty.” It’s all you can manage as you hold up the bottle. 
He stares at you for a long moment, eyes flickering all over your face. His chest is heaving, almost as if he had been running before you ran into him. His hands are closed into fists at his sides, knuckles almost white with how tense he is. You think for a moment he might be mad, but you can’t catch any whiff of ozone in the air. Your nose prickles at the scent, but it’s not anger. 
Your tired brain can’t make sense of it, yearning to sink back into the softness of your bed again. You slowly shuffle around him, taking cautious steps, waiting for him to reach out and stop you, but he doesn’t. He simply watches you go, standing there in the hallway as you slip back into your room, not moving until he hears the click of your lock slipping into place. 
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rosexxi · 8 months
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Hiii idk if you write for mattheo riddle but I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle × hufflepuff!reader one with princess treatment and secret dating? Maybe some angst with fluff at the end? If not no problem thank youuuuuu🦧
My Love 🌸❤️‍🔥
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Dating a jealous Mattheo Riddle in secret is never a good idea
a.n // swearing, Mattheo is lowkey mean at one point
fluff/angst // m.r x hufflepuff! reader
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Mattheo never was a morning person. Becoming one was one of the "good" habits he had developed since becoming your boyfriend. He was also getting less detentions, owing it to you, and your good influence. He would almost always have his homework completed, his grades were improving as he actually attended his lessons, and he no longer joined in with his childish friends as they practically bullied their classmates. He also had you believe he quit smoking. He didn't and would always discard his cigarette whenever you saw him, but how could he tell you the truth when you looked so proudly at him, as though he had the entire world in his hands.
Almost everyone around him had noticed the small changes in his behaviour, but no one needed to know that he had his own guardian angel in human form that made smiling come a lot easier to him than before.
"You're really special to me, y/n." he had whispered that secret meeting at the Black Lake. It had become a routine for the two of you to meet at the lake and spend time just being two teenagers in love without the burden of family and circumstances. After all, he was the Slytherin prince, son of the dark lord, and you were simply a girl in Hufflepuff. Nothing special, though his words would have you believing otherwise.
You were sitting between his legs as he leaned against a tree, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.
You smiled at his words, how he was able to be so soft, "You're special to me too Mattheo."
He brought up a soft hand to pull your chin to face him, "I mean it, princess, you've changed my life for the better. You're so pure and kind, dont know what you're doing with me."
You looked up at him with wide eyes as you pressed a kiss in his palm.
"Don't look at me like that angel," he groaned, throwing his head back, "You don't know what you do to me."
You giggled at his exaggerated actions, "You're such a drama queen Mattheo."
"It's just what you do to me."
"Mattheo, I haven't done anything to you. You've always been a kind, caring soul, and now everyone else sees what I see."
"Lucky them." he said sarcastically, "Come on then, princess, I've got practice, and you've got a Hogsmeade date with Lavender, we can't keep her waiting." he tapped your side, and you got up, holding a hand out to pull him up. He smiled down at you when you did, always in love with how much taller he was than you. You pulled him into a hug, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"Meet me tonight?" he whispered.
You shook your head into his chest, "I can't, I'm studying in the library with Cho and Lavender."
He rolled his eyes, thankful you couldn't see the look of annoyance on his face. He loved you (though he hadn't yet said), but what he didn't love was the secrecy of your relationship that prevented you from doing normal couple things. To be entirely honest, it was his decision to keep the relationship a secret, but it was all for you. Everyone in Hogwarts loved you. You were popular and incredibly liked because of your friendly, positive spirit. The last thing he needed on his conscious was ruining that for you, making you be seen with him.
He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you later then, yeah?"
You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, "Of course, have a good practice."
.
.
"but y/n are you ok with this arrangement?" asked Lavender, your best friend, at The Three Broomsticks.
"Arrangement? God Lavender you make it sound like a business deal."
Lavender was the only person who knew about you and Mattheo, as the two of you couldn't help but gossip about everything, including your own lives.
"It sounds that way to me. I mean, he won't even talk to you in public."
"He talks to me." you muttered.
"A subtle nod of encouragement doesn't count."
You rolled your eyes at your best friend, but deep down, you knew she was telling the truth.
At the beginning of the relationship, you didn't mind that he didn't want to tell anyone, but it had been four months, and he was still treating you as this big secret. You were able to deal with it as he was a good boyfriend. You may have been dating in secret, but he always made his presence known and treated you like a princess, even if it was from a distance.
"I don't know anymore Lavender how am I even supposed to bring it up in conversation. Maybe he's ashamed of me or something."
"I really hope he isn't because then I'd have to kill him. Just ask him."
"I can't just ask him."
"Why not, I thought you weren't scared of him."
You sighed out in exasperation, "I'm not. But, I just don't want to ruin things."
Lavender stared empathetically at you, taking your hand into hers, "y/n, he's your boyfriend, acknowledging you in public is the literal bare minimum."
"I know, I'll talk to him."
.
.
"Oi big game tomorrow Smith." heckled Malfoy in Potions the next day. You rolled your eyes from beside Zacharias Smith, the chaser for Hufflepuff.
"As far as I can remember, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin last Malfoy." you said to the cocky blonde boy, "let's hope you don't get injured this time." you smiled sweetly at him. Mattheo sniggered from beside Malfoy, earning a nudge from his friend and quidditch teammate.
"What, she's not wrong." he shrugged to a scowling Malfoy, a grin evident on his usual miserable face.
"Shut it, Riddle. And you too l/n, you might want to pay more attention to Snape, last I checked you failed this class."
You rolled your eyes at the petty boy. Of all Mattheo's friends you liked Malfoy the least, he was arrogant and immature. You took your attention off of him and continued with the potion before you.
"You might want to stop paying attention to Snape, Malfoy. You act like his little pet." muttered Zacharias Smith to Malfoy. Tensions always rose near quidditch games, and Smith could have been just as petty as anyone else. His remark made you laugh out loud, especially after seeing the look of annoyance on Malfoys face.
"Is something funny Miss l/n?" Came Snape's monotonous voice.
"No sir."
Snape took one look at you and Smith down his nose and turned back to his lesson, "The two of you can join me for detention tonight and exchange as many jokes as you want then."
You rolled your eyes behind Snape's back, knowing best not to challenge his words.
"Bet you're happy to be in detention with your little girlfriend and Snape." laughed Malfoy.
"Shut it, teachers' pet." argued Smith.
"Leave it Zacharias, there's no point."
"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Smith."
You shook your head at Malfoy's childish behaviour and raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who stood beside him. Half expecting Mattheo to say something in your defence, but you knew he wouldn't. He wore a scowl like no other and aggressively worked on his potion, occasionally huffing in anger. Though you had no idea as to what he was angry about, if anything, you should be the angry one as he allowed his best friend to talk down to his girlfriend.
The lesson seemed to draw out, and you were glad you were paired up with Zacharias, whose jokes took your attention off of your sulking boyfriend. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo burning holes into you with his intense gaze. He didn't engage once in Blaise and Draco's conversation. Instead, with his jaw clenched, he sulked over his potion.
"I'm sorry about Snape giving us detention, but I also half expected it the second Malfoy spoke." Smith said in the corridor when the class had finally finished.
"It's fine, I did aswell, we all know Malfoy has Snape in his pocket. Thanks for defending me though."
"Of course, anytime y/n, I just can't stand him, I really hope we win tomorrow, wipe the smile off his face."
"Me too, I will be cheering so much for you guys."
Zacharias smiled at you, "Then I'm sure we'll win. I'll see you at detention. I'm gonna go meet my mates, bye y/n."
"Bye Zacharias," you waved him goodbye and made your way to your dorm room.
Detention with Snape came quick and ended just the same. You and Zacharias met outside his classroom, and Snape simply had you organise some of his ingredients for class the next coming lesson.
"Bye y/n, I've got practice now but I'll see you tomorrow hopefully."
"Bye Zacharias, of course you'll see me," you smiled as you waved him goodbye. You had known Zacharias a long time, practically growing up with each other due to living in the same neighbourhood.
"Enjoy detention, did you?" came a familiar voice in the otherwise empty corridor.
"Don't think anyone enjoys detention, Mattheo." You replied as your boyfriend emerged from a dark corner.
"I waited for you," he began, stopping to inhale from his cigarette, "Seems you had good company though."
You stared at him as he fiddled with his cigarette, "I thought you quit."
"Only do it when I'm stressed." he shrugged. A clear lie. His demeaner entirely different to how he was the other day at the Black Lake.
"What's there to be stressed about? You seemed just fine sulking in potions." You said crossed your arms.
"I weren't fucking sulking, forgive me for not being all chipper when my girlfriends practically throwing herself at my rival." he spat out.
"Throwing herself?! Excuse me, Mattheo, I was simply speaking to my lifelong friend. What, you wanted me to speak to you as you practically let Malfoy be rude to me, your girlfriend might I add." You pointed an accusing finger into his chest.
"That's different, not like I was flirting with someone else in front of you."
"I was not flirting. And don't act all high and mighty when you won't even defend me. You'd rather keep me a secret so you don't have to speak up to your friends."
"I'm not scared to speak up against Malfoy," he sneered as he let out a bitter laugh, "Whatever love, I've got a game to focus on. I can't be doing with your crying because I won't hold your hand in public."
"Mattheo, that's mean." you sighed, voice threatening to break, incredibly taken aback by his harsh tones. All this because you were nice to a boy you had known forever. You should have known. Everything with Mattheo was perfect, almost too perfect it made you forget how mean he could be. He was simply no different to Malfoy, and you stupidly thought he would be.
He merely shrugged at your words and turned on his heels, marching down the corridor down to the dungeons. He left you there with tears threatening to fall.
.
.
You woke up the next day in low spirits later than usual. You managed to pull yourself out of bed and make it to breakfast just before it ended. Your eyes were puffy from crying and your face red. You managed to catch a glimpse of Mattheo sitting at the Slytherin table. He didn't look as he usually did before a quidditch match. His eyes were on you instead of on his captain, and a faint air of guilt lingered around him.
"Hey you ok y/n?" asked Cadwallader from across the table. Another one of Hufflepuff's chasers.
"Just tired. Good luck today though, all of you."
"Thanks y/n, I think we've got this win, though." winked Zacharias.
You sat with Lavender in the stands and watched absentmindedly as the two teams came onto the pitch. The Hufflepuff players wore smiles and carried a sense of certainty about them, contrasting to the scowls plastered on the Slytherin players. Draco Malfoy, captain of them all, aggressively shook the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, Cadwallader, and took his place in the sky with his other chasers, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.
Mattheo stared daggers into the Hufflepuff team, occasionally taking his eyes off of them to look down at you. The game began and seemed to be like any other. Slytherin scored first, followed by Hufflepuff, then Hufflepuff again, and Hufflepuff again. Seeing your house team win put you in higher spirits, and you laughed with your best friend, as you cheered.
You smiled up at the players, even smiling at your boyfriend though quickly regretting so as you were met with a look of anger.
"And it's Zacharias Smith again for Hufflepuff, he's on a roll," yelled Lee Evans who was quick to support anyone who wasnt Slytherin, "And the Hufflepuff seeker has found the golden snitch and Hufflepuff win!! Wait, seems as though Riddle isn't too happy with that one."
The smile on your face was quickly wiped away, as were the feelings of joy to see your house win. You were now staring down at the pitch with wide eyes as Mattheo Riddle was single handedly throwing punches and spitting harsh words at both Smith and Cadwallader. You quickly brought your hands to your mouth, gasping in shock at the actions of your boyfriend. You had seen Mattheo in plenty of fights during your time at Hogwarts, but it was harder to watch now that you were in fact his girlfriend.
"Haha go on Cadwallader, tiny lad but he's finally landed a punch, and Smith lanky git," chuckled Evans as he commented on the spectacle that had everyone's attention, "Riddle is now joined by Malfoy and Nott who are not coming to fight but to pull him away. Awh, shame, I wanted to see a proper fight. Sorry, professor, definitely not supporting aggression in Quidditch. Ooh, Smith and Cadwallader look nasty, but they've finally taken Riddle off. Well, dragged him off. No one likes a sore loser, Mattheo mate."
You wanted to follow Mattheo into the dressing room and ask him a million question, well shout them at him, but you knew he'd only lash out at you. Mattheo had actually never spoken to you in any way other than calmly. Even back to before you had begun dating Mattheo was almost nice to you, but in his current state you knew best than to approach him.
After some time, you hesitated around the locker rooms if you should enter. Even if you had fought yesterday, you were his girlfriend and maybe he needed you. It seemed that the other players had all gone, and only Theodore and Mattheo were left. Just then, Theodore left the changing room.
"Oh hi y/n, you should definitely go see him." he nodded nonchalantly.
"Theodore, you know?" you managed to get out, though incredibly taken aback at his nod of acknowledgement.
"Oh, I always knew. Riddle told me way back when he had used to fancy you," he shrugged, "you should know what he did last night was shitty but he did have a go at everyone if that balances it out."
"He what?"
"Yeah, after he came back from your detention, he had a go at Malfoy. Said if he ever spoke about his girl again, he'd break his face." Theodore laughed, "He really likes you y/n, he's just a bit awkward with his feelings and words, not to mention incredibly insecure. Don't tell him I said that though."
"Thanks Theodore I won't, I'll go talk to him."
You walked into the Slytherin locker room cautiously. It was seemingly empty, but there in the corner was your boyfriend. Mattheo. He was sat shirtless hunched over the bench, his head in his hands. You walked closer to him to see his bare back covered in old bruises and scars. It hurt your heart to be reminded of the painful past he had to endure. Upon hearing your footsteps, he lifted his head, turning to face you.
"Hi." He whispered.
His face was covered in dried blood. His lip was cut, as well as his eyebrow, and you were sure he had had a nose bleed aswell.
"Oh, Mattheo." you whispered upon seeing him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and clean him up, "What happened?"
"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, "Are you here to break up with me?"
"Break up with you? Why would I do that?"
"Because look at me," he laughed, "I picked a fight with your friends."
You shook your head and made your way towards him, sitting down between his legs and holding his hands in yours.
"I don't care about them Mattheo I care about you. But I can't do anything about it if you push me away which is what it feels like."
"I know," he nodded, looking anywhere but at you. He seemed frustrated, "It's just stupid, I don't know how to say it."
"Just say words I'll put them together."
"You're too kind, princess," he shook his head, "I just got jealous when I saw you with your Hufflepuff friends. It's stupid. Reminds me of why I wanted to keep you, us a secret in the first place. And then I saw them today, and that tiny arse wanted to ask you out, and we were losing, and I lost it."
You brushed your fingertips over the bruises on his knuckles, again a million questions on your mind. You never knew why Mattheo wanted to keep the two of you a secret.
"You wanted to keep us a secret because you were ashamed of me because I'm in Hufflepuff?"
"What?" he said, clearly taken aback and confused by your words. His eyes finally met yours, "I wanted to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of myself. Because how could I openly date you when you're so kind and pure and I'm me. Look at me. I got into a fight with two people just because they're your friends. I'm not right for you, y/n. I'm not what you deserve, I'm violent and aggressive."
"Mattheo? Stop it. Don't talk about yourself like that, please. I'm with you because I like you for you and I want to be with you. I don't see you the way you see yourself. This whole time, I thought you wanted us to be a secret because you were embarrassed to be dating me and didn't want your friends to see."
"Fuck my friends."
You laughed softly at him, "I wish you had just said this to me, everything could have been avoided."
"I know," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not good with words."
"Theodore said."
"You spoke to Nott?"
"He told me you told Malfoy you'd break his face if he spoke to me again."
"I will. I'm so sorry angel for not defending you, I should have punched Malfoy right then and there."
"Maybe not so much physical violence."
"I'll work on it. But I messed up so much y/n, I don't know how to make this up to you. I shouldn't have let you think for one minute that I was ashamed of you. How could I be. You're beautiful inside and out, like an angel. You're too pure for this world, for me."
You smiled away at his words and his actions as he brought up a bruised hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Leaning into press a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm perfect for you as you are for me. You can make it up to me by apologising to Smith and Cadwallader and then finally taking me on a proper date."
"Fine, I'll apologise to Smith, I know he's your friend, but absolutely not to Cadwallader, he wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
"He didn't know I was your girlfriend." you pointed out.
"Don't give a fuck, I'll make everyone aware now. But yes, I will take you on a date. I've never been on a date before, but I'll do some research."
You giggled at his words, leaning into press a kiss onto his lips. You wrapped your hands around his neck, going into deepen the kiss but his groans from beneath stopped you.
"Sorry did I hurt you."
"No, no," he shook his head, but the look of pain on his face said otherwise. You got up from the floor, holding a hand out for him to take.
He took it and again leaned into press a kiss onto your forehead when he stood up to tower of you.
You looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought up a calloused hand to caress your cheek. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."
You smiled sweetly at him as you rubbed the blood of his lips, "You can stare at my beautiful eyes as much as you want after we visit Madam Pomfrey."
"Can't wait my love."
"My love? That's a new one, I like it."
He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's the truth. You are my love. I love you."
And just then, you wanted to melt into his chest. You leaned up to press a soft peck, before replying, "I love you too."
"Don't think anyone has ever loved me before."
"They're missing out on so much, but at least this way I have you all to myself. Loving you is so easy when you're not being a jealous ass."
"Hah, I deserved that. Of course, princess, I'm all yours. Come with me to the hospital wing."
Hand in hand, you both left the locker room, making your way through the castle to the hospital wing. You received a few shocked looks from classmates, but one look from Mattheo, and they instantly turned away. You laughed at this, happy to see the effect of your scary boyfriend.
Both Smith and Cadwallader were in the hospital wing, getting treated for their various cuts and bruises. You couldn't see from afar before, but Riddle really laid into them.
You turned to Mattheo, nodding in their direction. He rolled his eyes but eventually made his way over to them.
"I really don't want to y/n, I've never apologised for a fight." he said on the way over.
"You can start now."
Upon seeing Riddle, both Hufflepuff players instantly sat up, though both looked incredibly surprised to see your hand locked with the Slytherin boys.
"Hi. So I'm sorry, Smith, for picking a fight with you. My girlfriend likes you, so I guess you're alright. I'm not sorry to you though Cadwallader, you wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
Neither one of the boys replied, only stared with their mouths agape.
"Well?" Riddle asked almost threateningly.
"Babe that's not really an apology."
"It's the best they're getting from me." he shrugged before going to sit on a spare bed waiting patiently for Madame Pomfrey.
"Sorry about him." you smiled.
"Its ok y/n, just a bit shocked you're dating."
You nodded and explained how the relationship began.
"I'm happy for you y/n, you deserve a boy who'd kill for you. Preferably not us but oh well." Zacharias eventually said.
"Yeah, y/n, please tell him I'm really sorry for saying I'd ask you out, jheez I had no idea."
"No, it's fine really, how could you have known."
You said your byes and made your way back to Mattheo, who was getting treated by Madam Pomfrey. Upon seeing you, he smiled and opened up the duvet, making way for you.
"You can stay till visiting hours are over." warned Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm sorry again y/n." he whispered once she left.
"Don't be," you said as you turned to rest your head on his chest, "I just wish you would have told me."
He brought up a hand to play with your hair.
"I know, princess, you're mine, dont know why I'd wanna keep that a secret."
"At least Snape will go easier on me now if he knows I'm dating a slytherin."
Mattheo laughed, "You're using me now for connections. Don't worry, my love, everyone will know we're dating, I'll scream it in the courtyard if you want me to."
"That'd be nice."
.
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gotham-daydreams · 8 months
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd part here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
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Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
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Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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weebsinstash · 3 months
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Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them
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I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure
He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino
I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"
But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED
One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"
And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')
Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--
When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.
But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"
And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"
And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"
At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--
The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.
IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails
"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"
"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"
"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"
"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"
"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"
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jksian · 3 months
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02 - You up? (m)
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"Shut up and ride me, yeah?"
pairing: best friend Jungkook x inexperienced reader
genre: fwb, f2l, smut, angst and fluff
w/c: 3.8k
warning: phew well... teasing, netflix and chill y'k?, mentions of his tattooes, mentioned about the movie 'after' for once, mention of infidelity (I mean Jk's ex!), mention of a threesome🙊,overstimulation, fingering, sucking, reverse cowgirl oops, protected sex (jk uses protection, jk is smart, be like jk), marking, cum play?, use of vibrator👀, ✨SQUIRTING✨, everything is very wet wet, praises and kisses😍, intimacy!!!, crying (out of pleasure), little argument, JK is a soft dom because soft!dom supremacy!! and that's it, I think, also it's not edited!
a/n: okay so, I have found a very similar video of there first smut scene here, when he was fingering her. I wanted to share it with you guys. I was hesitant at first but with all of your votes being positive, I have the courage to do it, I think.
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| Series masterlist | Masterlist |
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When Jungkook asked you to hang out with him, you knew how it was going to be.
You under him, or in some cases, him under you.
In both cases, his dick would be buried deep inside of you.
When you got the massage ‘you up?’ it was inevitable what was the intention behind that. Still, your oblivious self made you sit here on his bed and scroll through hundreds of series in Netflix to choose which one to watch. You liked to make yourself dumb and naïve intentionally.
Ignorance is pure bliss. Indeed.
It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you to found Jungkook’s hand caressing your naked thighs as his hands soon travels all over your exposed skin, before they found their shelter in between your legs.
Classic Netflix and chill version.
At first, it was just an ordinary evening where two friends hang out and watch some movies together, but your relationship with Jungkook wasn’t ordinary. What kind of relationship you had with him, anyways? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Situation ship?
Nah. You both made it clear that you guys will remain friends no matter what, even though you heart wanted something more than that, you buried that desire deep inside of your head.
The movie ‘after’ played in his laptop, as you made yourself comfortable and took a seat in-between his legs, leaning your back on his chest.
Everything was good until the male protagonist started eating the female protagonist out in the movie, that scene made you shift uncomfortably in his hold.
Jungkook’s hand, which was rested on your thighs previously started rubbing soothing circle there, his face too close to your neck, almost nestling in it.
You breath hitched when his hands travelled up towards your torso, lifting your shirt a little to feel the soft skin there.
You whimpered a little, unexpectedly, when he twisted your nipple in between his fingers, rolling and squeezing the soft flesh and ravishing in the euphoric feeling.
He always loved your tits. Even though they were not as huge as every other boy fantasized about, they were enough. They were real. Whenever you expressed your slight insecurity about them, he was quick to comfort you, complementing about their shapes and how soft and perfect they were or how they always brought comfort to him. You found the later one, quite odd.
“What are you doing–,” Your voice was faint, merely able to held back the moan before it escaped from your throat because of the luscious touches of him.
He chuckled at your innocence or better, false innocence and brought your body closer to him, “Just want to touch you, may I?” His lips brushed against your earlobe before gently sucked on it.
You felt arousal coming out and ruining your panties further. The damage was already done, nothing to do about that.
You nodded and he didn’t waste any time and lifted your shirt up until your tits came to his vision, made it harder for the men behind you to breath.
One of his hand sneaking its way into your shorts, flickering your sensitive bud over your panties.
“W-we were supposed to watch the movie.” You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant but the quaver in your voice indicated otherwise.
He chuckled again, knowing very well the effect he had on you. “Is that so? But, I want you –,” He turned your face towards him, with his dark yet full of stars in his eyes, stared right back at you, “Now.”
His eyes flickered to your lips as his own tongue swiped over his lower one, licking your lips in the process before going back to your eyes.
You felt overwhelmed, with the amount of intensity he held in his eyes, at the way he touched you with his hands. Sinistery yet heavenly.
His lips crashed on yours, lips moving in sync, like they were made for each other, made to kiss and fold like this for forever.
You lips reminds him of the delicate caresses of a brush on canvas, where vibrant hues adorn the surface, creating it as beautiful and whole.
His fingers kept on pinching your nipples and massaging your tits at the same time. You couldn’t help but whimper in his hold, turning your face to moan which you were holding back. “Look at that, how wet you are.”
He whispered into your ear, warm breath hitting the side of your face as he started kissing your jawline, making his way to your neck. Alternating between kissing and gently sucking, he ensured that by the end, your body was adorned with an array of colors, colors of him, creating a vivid and captivating masterpiece.
“You’ve been grinding against me, so, isn’t it obvious?” Futile attempt to be sassy at that moment, especially when you couldn’t help but moan at every flicker of his finger on your clit.
“So you’re admitting it that I made you this wet, hmm?” You could see the cocky smile on his face even though your eyes were shut from the pleaser he was giving you.
Jungkook was good at many things but, knew it even better when it comes to using his fingers on you. He was familiar with your body as if it were the back of his hand.
He instructed you to lift your hips and pulled of your shorts along with your panties.
You heard him cursed under his breath when you spread your legs wide for him, gave him a glimpses of your glistening pussy.
He moaned into your neck when his finger slipped easily into your pussy, feeling more of your essence leaking on his finger. Your drenched pussy stuffed with his finger, “You’ve got a pretty little cunt, baby.”
The way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing, but you didn’t care the slightest and let the moans out freely.
Your eyes rolled back when he started pumping his finger without any mercy, your cunt clenched around his thick fingers adorned in various tattoos, stretching you out perfectly.
He groaned breathily into your ear at the squelching sounds, echoing through out his room. Your rested on his shoulder, eyes shut from the overwhelming sensation when he curled his fingers and hit the right spot.
“Oh fuck! K-keep going please –,” You pleaded, voice cracked as you weren’t even able to form a complete sentence.
“Please what, baby?” He still had time to tease when you were squirming and twisting under his hold, you wanted to smack him hard on his head but you decided to play it smart. Because, getting your release was more important than letting your ego win, especially when the men was so hot and called you ‘baby’. Wait…does he called you baby?
“Stop teasing and let me cum, Kook.” The way you called him that… should be illegal. You knew how he liked being called ‘kook’ and you used that to your advantage.
He grumbled and thrusted his fingers along with his thumb on your clit, giving hard flicks on the bundle of nerves, made your legs tremble.
“oh fuck –,” you moaned, biting on your bottom lip as your hips thrusted upwards on its own, chasing your release.
Your slick dripped down your thighs as you held onto Jungkook’s shoulder for your dear life, wrinkling up his t-shirt in your tight grasp.
“You look so fucking pretty when you cum, y’k?” He smirked at you and you just returned a glare before closing your eyes again and tried to catch your breath.
You felt him moving and when you looked around and saw him reaching down to the nightstand beside his bed and pulled out a condom along with something like…hold on!... Is that–
“Jungkook! What the fuck?” The disbelief in your eyes made him smirk even more, he found amusement in your little gasp, “Saved it for special occasions.” He said while grinning at his supposed comedic statement.
“Special occasions? Since when you had a vibrator with you?” You gave him a hard glare which was supposed to indicate that you were pissed but he laughed at that. He fuckin’ laughed.
“Bought it because, I thought…,” He moved his fingers, the same ones which was buried deep into your cunt and still had your cum on it, brushed it over your lower lip, “You’d like it.” Then shoved the same finger into his mouth.
He was a fucking maniac for moaning around his own fingers, as if he was tasting world’s most delicious food or something. The fingers came out of his mouth, coated with his saliva this time.
The slow buzz of the vibrator behind you made you shiver in his hold, you felt his hands on your hips, slowly dragging them up and down until he reached your ass. Squeezing your ass cheeks firmly, he landed a slap on it out of the blue and it made you squeal on his lap.
Leaning forward, Jungkook again, started peppering kisses on your back, sucking on any area he can and licking it afterwards as he continued, made your breath hitched.
His lips were irresistible. He was irresistible. As much as you hate to admit it, it was the truth. Even though, he was your best friend and you guys were on the strict rule of FWB, The men sucking on your skin made you this wet like no one else and made you feel things you’ve never felt for anyone before.
It was dangerous whatever it was happening between you two. You knew it but, does it made you stop? No.
The way you shameless let out the loudest moan when he brought that cute little pink magic wand to your clit, made you slap your hand on your mouth and your legs to shut immediately.
His hardness was poking on your lower back, he was in his boxer so it was easy to feel it through the thin layer of clothing. He remove the vibrator and in an instant, you shifted onto his lap properly, this time your pussy directly on his cock which made him gasped and groaned. The sounds he made was enough to grew the ache in between your legs, it made you needier for any kind of touch he could gave you.
Your slickness dripped on his clothed cock from your bare pussy as you grind on it. He shut his eyes from the feeling of it, you felt him twitching.
“Fuck. Wait– baby, you planning on making me cum in my pants?” He chuckled breathily, pupils dilated with sheer lust as he said, “Let me take off my boxers.”
You shifted of his lap before he took it off. The idea of making him cum in his pants was arousing, you smiled as said while turning around to look at him, “Not a bad idea, though.”
You received a smack on your ass again along with the sound of his sweet chuckle. “Shut up and ride me, yeah?”
That considered yet dominating tone of his voice made your heart swell and your pussy clenched. The fact that he was making sure to made you feel comfortable, if you wanted the same thing or not even though it was the thing he wanted was appreciating. You knew, if you told him no and stopped, he wouldn’t even question you.
You smiled in return and kissed him, cupping his face while leaning on his shoulder, your back pressed against his chest and his cock brushed against your entrance, this time bare, direct skin to skin. It was enough to made you go crazy.
He squeezed your boobs and aligned his member at your entrance. Moaning into his mouth, you glided down on his length and took him in one-go.
He moaned along with you. Before you could start moving, he brought the vibrator to your clit and set it at the lowest mode but that was enough stimulation for you to roll your hips.
Jungkook held your waist, guided you on his cock while keeping the vibrator on your clit steadily.
“Yeah baby, ride it like that. Make yourself come on my cock.” He said through gritted teeth, groaning under his breath every time you thrust back on him. His other hand pressed lightly on your lower belly where his bulge can be seen while he increased the speed of the vibrator a bit higher. Your thighs shakes from the overstimulation, tears formed in your eyes and your moans were uncontrollable.
“Fuck fuck, gonn– c-come,” You cried out, tears now freely running down your flushed cheeks, the squelching sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room.
“Shit, hold it for me.” You thrusts were becoming erratic, upon knowing that Jungkook immediately handed over the vibrator to you and held you by your waist, started thrusting back at you.
He lay down on the mattress, seeing how his cock disappeared inside you and reappeared made him twitch violently, “Yes baby, that’s it. You feels so fucking good,” He groaned.
His praises made you clenched around him, moaning from the pure pleasure, you throw your head back. Even though, the vibrator was making you overstimulate, you couldn’t brought yourself to remove it. Nails digging on his hand, leaving marks for him to remember just like the bruises which will be prominent on your waist later, because of the dead grip of his.
He was rougher than before, slamming into you without a care in the world, “Fuck, I can see everything from here, how your pussy is swallowing my cock, baby. S-shit –,” He didn’t missed a chance to hit that perfect spot inside of you, abusing it to the point that your walls spasm and you squirt all over his cock and the bed sheet beneath you.
Tears stream down your cheeks from the intense pleasure in your core, your whole body shakes, you immediately removed the toy from you but Jungkook never stopped, constantly slammed back at you.
“Fuck, J-jungkook,” More spurs of liquids gushes out of you every time his cock came out of you. You couldn’t handle the pleasure as your body gave out and you leaned back on his chest. He still continued while holding onto you.
“Oh fuck–,” Jungkook moaned, never stopping his movements. The way you squirt, the hot liquid coated his cock, how your drenched pussy felt so good was overwhelming for him. You made him overwhelmed.
“I-I’m coming –,” You shrieked, pussy gripping his cock almost painfully. Jungkook couldn’t think straight as your warm walls engulf his member completely.
“Come on, come for me, baby.” Your vision got blurry, the harsh thrusts and the overstimulation was too much for you. You moans choked out from your throat, you almost let out a scream but restrained yourself for the sake of his neighbors.
With a last thrust, he finally came. His eyes rolled back as he dick restlessly twitches inside of you before he spiller his seeds inside the condom.
He slides out of you and your come oozed out of you, your body fall on top of him and he held you close to his chest. You could heard the soft beating of his heart, his slightly harsh breaths as he tried to recover from the intense session you two just shared.
You both lay down there in silent, hearing each other breaths and just…held onto each other like that in an intimate way.
Jungkook shifted in his place as he held onto you gently, carefully, not wanting to hurt you by any means as he places you beside him.
Your eyes were still closed when he cupped your face in his hands, when you finally looked at him you saw him staring back at you with his usual wide doe eyes. He didn’t said anything at first, just stared at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t decipher before he spoke, “Are you okay?”
His voice was as soft as his touches, there was slight hint of concern in his tone. This little things was the reason behind your growing feeling for him.
How caring and considerate he was with you, how he treated you as if he wanted you. Yes, he does wanted you but not in the way you wanted him. He was the first one to comfort you, he was always there for you. As a friends, he was perfect. And, as a boyfriend, he would be definitely better than your ex.
You smiled at him, “Yes, I’m absolutely okay.” You said that rather enthusiastically, making him chuckled in the process. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before despairing into his bathroom.
You thought, how it might be if you could tell him about the things you felt for him. It all started after he got cheated on by his ex.
He was devastated after that. You still remember the day when he cried in front of you. Jungkook was someone who wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions through words nor liked crying in front of others. So, when he did, you could imagine how hurt he might had been at that moment.
Still, he gave her some time and came with an agreement that they both just needed space to figure out what they both wanted. Bullshit.
You never liked that idea. She literally cheated on him, even though she was kissing another girl on the lips, it still considered as cheating. Still, you supported Jungkook, because that’s what friends do.
Your chain of thoughts broke as Jungkook entered his room with a wet towel in his hand and a glass of water. You took it out of his hand and gulp down the water but he didn’t gave you the towel. He always does that, wiping your essence off of you every time. You stopped with your futile attempts of you can do that yourself long ago.
“Wait, let me take a shower.” You didn’t said anything, it was strange. Aftercare was important for him, you knew it. Usually, you two shower together or cuddled up on the bed, but, this time, he went alone. You found that odd before your focus shifted towards his phone.
The sound of a notification made your face turned towards the litted up screen. You scooted over it and the thing you saw made your blood boiled for unknown reasons.
You saw a notification from his ex-girlfriend. They weren’t in the talking situation so, why he got notifications from her. The suspicion and bitterness got the best of you and you quickly dressed to leave his apartment.
Just as you were about to head outside, he barged out of the bathroom, halting his movements for a second by your form standing in front of his door to leave, the automatic pout came onto his face out of confusion, he spoke, “Where are you going? Wait– why are you leaving?”
His brows pinched together a frown settled on his face, “Is everything okay?” There was seriousness in his voice. He tried to came closer but, he noticed the hesitation in your movements so he backed up, didn’t wanted to made you uncomfortable.
“I – just have something’s to do.” You lied, voice came out in an whisper as if you didn’t had any strength left in your body. Nothing wrong there, fucking Jungkook always made your body exhausted afterwards, but, your heart always felt content. Not this time.
Even if he sensed your lie, he didn’t question you. “Then, let me drop you there at least,” He went to grab his keys before you stopped him in the track.
“Do your still talk with Sana?” There was a few seconds of silence, not a sound of footsteps or even breathing. Utter silent. You heart beats increased with every second, holding onto your handbag, you waited for his reply.
“No… but, she followed me on Instagram yesterday.” He told you the truth, never wanted to lie to you. He just didn’t knew why he made this thing a secret. Not a secret, he just didn’t priorities it enough to discussed this with you.
“And?”
“And, I followed her back, then she sent a massage.” He said that so casually as if he was talking about a random person. It wasn’t any random person.
You turned around and looked at him. You didn’t understood why you felt a stinging pain in your heart when you saw him standing there oblivious. There was a slight worriedness in his eyes.
“Jungkook…I don’t know what you were thinking but…why didn’t you tell me? Also, why are you talking to your ex?” Okay, not so smart question. You did admitted that. That’s his life, he could talk to anyone he wants, so asking him why he did that was stupid.
Still, he tried to explain, “I– sorry, I should’ve said this before, but I thought it wasn’t much important to discuss about,”
“Wasn’t much important to discuss with me, right?”
“What? No! ____, It’s not what you’re thinking –,”
“Then, what is it? Jungkook, she cheated on you –,” Those words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You wished you didn’t said that because the way his eyes went wide and glossy, made your heart hurt.
“Lets not come to an conclusion yet, she said she need some time and I gave her that. Also, she did that after…her last encounter with us.” This time, you gasped. He was talking about the threesome you guys had a month ago before their break up.
It was a casual thing between the three of you, all of you gave your own concerns, all three of you wanted that. Now, why he brought that topic into this argument. The conclusion was far more worse. You brain immediately responded with he thinks she cheated on him because of me.
His ex wanted to explore her sexuality after her encounter with you during the threesome. It all came clear in your mind.
“Are you implying that…she cheated on you because of me?” Your voice slightly cracked at the end of the sentence and you cringed. Not wanting to stay even a second there, you barged out of his room without looking back.
“No no, ____ , listen. I never blamed you– fuck! I could never do that, baby.” He grabbed you arm, tried to calm you down. “Please, don’t misunderstood me.”
His voice held so much vulnerability, panic rushed over his eyes. You couldn’t brought yourself to look at him, because if you did, you would mold back into his arms instantly and you couldn’t let that happen.
He kept on pleading to you, standing at the doorway and you. You huffed at his stubbornness, “Jungkook, please I have to go, now. We can talk about this later.” You again lied.
Jungkook wouldn’t wanted to disrespect your decision or invade your personal space, he backed away from the door. He couldn't understand outburst but he did knew that you never liked it when someone hide something from you. he knew, he made you upset which he never wanted.
You could see his glistening eyes staring right at you, his brows furrowed as he kept on looking at you until you departed from his apartment.
Your tears, unrestrained, finally flowed freely, unable to be held back any longer.
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taintedcigs · 3 months
Text
i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.
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ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER
summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!
author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes
also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!
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DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.
You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 
Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 
Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 
But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 
You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 
Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 
Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.
Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 
You weren’t special. 
Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 
So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 
DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?
Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.
Too late.
                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?
You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.
You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 
“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 
Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  
Shit. 
“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.
“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 
“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 
“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 
“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”
Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 
With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.
“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’
“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 
“The song?” He nods in confirmation.
“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.
He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 
“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.
“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 
A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”
He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.
Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.
“You’re annoying.” 
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.
“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.
“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 
“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 
“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 
“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 
Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”
“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 
“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.
But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 
“What? What guy?” 
“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  
“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”
“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 
“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.
You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 
But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?
Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.
“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 
And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 
“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 
That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.
“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.
And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 
Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”
“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 
“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 
You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.
He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.
“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 
“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 
He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 
He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 
The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 
He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   
Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 
You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 
His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.
Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”
You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 
That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 
“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 
And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 
Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 
You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 
“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”
“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.
“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 
Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.
“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 
“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 
Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 
He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 
Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 
“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 
“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 
“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 
“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 
You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”
His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 
“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.
And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?
“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 
Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 
But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 
Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 
He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.
Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”
“The song…”
“I told you I liked it.”
His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”
“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.
“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 
“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 
Was he… actually gonna do this? 
“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 
“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.
“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 
“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  
You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 
“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 
He felt the same way.
Eddie felt the same way. 
“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.
“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 
“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 
“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 
“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 
“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.
“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.
The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.
Everything he wanted and more.
He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”
You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”
“So, does that mean we're dating now?”
“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”
“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 
He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 
He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”
You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”
“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”
That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.
He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.
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