#which then consumes my thoughts and leaves no room for anything else

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the desire to do comms vs my inability to remember that i got a message FIGHT-

[freedomfireflies]

American Psycho*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun, and One for the Money*

The one where you and your boss, Mr. Styles, have a little bit too much fun at the office Halloween party.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 4.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“What…are you wearing?”

Mr. Styles glances down at his dark suit, brow cocked upward. “What does it look like?”

“Har,” you huff, although you’re smiling as you toss your makeup bag aside and move closer, “I thought you were putting on a costume. It’s a Halloween party, you’re supposed to dress up.”

“I am,” he argues. “I’m dressed as a guy that doesn’t want to fucking go.”

You laugh. “Come on, be fun for a change.”

“I’m the boss. I’m not supposed to be fun.”

“Well, they’re throwing this party for you,” you remind him. “Nadia’s been talking about it all week.”

“Right, instead of working. Which is not what I pay her to do.”

“Harry,” you repeat, shooting him a pointed look. “Seriously, why don’t you put on a little fake blood or something? You could go as Patrick Bateman!”

“And why would I do that when I could just not go at all?”

Pushing your pink, painted lips into a pout, you straighten up onto your tiptoes, and snake your arms around his neck. “Please, Sir? Just this once? For me?”

He begins to frown, but you feel his hands find your hips, expression stern but amused. “Peach…”

“I won’t ever ask for anything ever again,” you murmur, letting your mouth ghost atop his teasingly. “Swear. And I’ll behave all night. Be so good for you.”

He likes this idea, studying you carefully as his grip tightens. “Is that so?”

“Incredibly so. Just want to have fun with you, Sir.”

“I know,” he sighs, now cupping his palm against your cheek. “But you know the rule, honey. We can’t be seen together, not at the office.”

“I know,” you echo. “But we can still go. Even if we can’t exactly hold hands and dance in front of everybody, we can have fun. And I want that for you. You never take the stick out of your ass.”

Pinching your jaw playfully, he snorts. “And I thought you were gonna be good.”

“Once you agree, yeah. Until then, I make no promises.”

With a smirk, he grasps onto your chin, and tugs you to him. Smashing his lips to yours until you exhale gratefully and melt into his touch.

“Besides,” you mumble, “if you don’t come with me, then I’ll have to go in my slutty costume all by myself.”

Now you have his attention, his eyes narrowing sternly as he leans back to see you. “Oh, really?”

You nod. “Yup. Thought I’d use some of the lingerie you got me and go as a Playboy bunny.”

You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips – even through his nice dress shirt – and it makes you chuckle.

“Did you?” He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer, but you can see his walls beginning to crumble.

“Mhm. Equipped with a fuzzy little tail and ears.”

He swallows thickly before clearing his throat in an effort to appear nonchalant. “Well, let’s see it then.”

“Only if you agree to go.”

“Peach,” he warns, frowning again but you’re quick to shake your head.

“That’s my deal, Sir. Take it or leave it.”

And while you can tell he wants to be cross with you, he begins to smile, clearly amused with your negotiation tactics. Perhaps even a little proud.

“Fine,” he finally concedes, making you grin. “But I’m not putting on any makeup.”

“No, just a little fake blood,” you suggest, immediately rushing toward your bag to retrieve the bottle. “It won’t stain, and it washes right out.”

He eyes you carefully while you scurry across his apartment. “And I suppose you’d like me to carry an ax, too.”

“I mean…it would sell the part,” you tease. “But let’s start with the blood. Go wait in the bathroom and I’ll go change really quick.”

“No, don’t,” he calls, almost firmly before you can slip from the room. “Not yet.”

You hesitate. “Okay…why? What’s wrong?”

His tongue runs over his bottom lip while his head cocks deviously to the side. “Because if you do…then we aren’t ever leaving this apartment.”

And you can’t help but grin.

“Let me guess…Edward Cullen?”

Even from a few feet away, you can see Harry’s expression fall. “Funny.”

“What?” Nadia smiles. “Come on, you look just like him. The blood and the suit and everything. It’s good.”

“Great,” he grumbles but you can tell he’s amused.

She laughs. “Patrick Bateman is a good look for you, boss. I like it. Feels…fitting.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. But in a sexy, fun kind of way.”

He snorts before his eyes trail over to you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You wink.

The party is relaxed but enjoyable. Everyone is mingling, drinking, and dancing to the upbeat, spooky playlist. The usually boring, gray interior of the office floor is decorated with orange lights, carved pumpkins, and an array of ghostly décor. And nearly everyone came in costume, making it feel that much more like Halloween.

And despite the fact that you and Mr. Styles are forced to remain distant, you find yourself admiring him from across the room almost all evening. Happy that he seems to have finally begun to unwind, relax, and even enjoy himself. 

You watch as he engages in chatter with some of the other men in the finance department. You catch his eye while you’re grabbing a drink of the festive punch. And you feel him stare as you and Nadia head to the middle of the floor to dance to Somebody’s Watching Me.

Truth be told, you find it hard to be away from him after so many nights together. And even though it’s what you both agreed on, you feel a certain sort of longing for the handsome man in the corner of the room. 

However, neither of you are quite ready to tell the office you’re dating yet or deal with the potential fallout. At least not right now, when things are so new. Special. You suppose that could change in the future, but at least for tonight, he’s your dirty little secret.

So you resort to exchanging sneaky glances from time to time as you enjoy the party. Like now, when you catch his subtle but devious smile from behind the shadows while his hand casually slips into his suit jacket pocket. 

It’s a nonchalant motion. Relaxed enough that you barely catch on as you and Nadia continue swaying back and forth to the rhythm. Enjoying the heavy bass and eerie tune. 

And then, suddenly…you feel it. The first, gentle vibration from the toy sitting snugly inside your pussy. 

Your breath hitches.

And now you understand his look of amusement and the disappearance of his hand. He’s testing out the toy, warning you of his intentions even from the other side of the room. 

Just like he promised.

After all, that was his only condition. He’d dress up, he’d play nice, he’d be a good boss.

But if he wasn’t allowed to touch you all night, he at least wanted to have some fun. And remind you that he is still the one you belong to.

A reminder he gleefully gives you now, turning up the strength on the small bullet inside your cunt while he continues chatting with Alex from IT.

He’s not looking at you anymore – something you almost despise – but it’s obvious that he’s entertained. Fighting against a wry grin as he nods along in conversation. 

You, on the other hand, are beginning to feel the effects of the teasing. A sharp, pleasurable chill running down your legs while you falter in place and swallow a gasp.

Confused, Nadia eyes you carefully. “You okay?” she calls over the music, leaning closer. “You look a little woozy.”

“I’m…no, I’m…I’m good,” you manage to stammer, forcing a nod before you continue with your dance. “S’just hot in here, I guess.”

“God, you’re telling me,” she snorts, running a knuckle under her eye to catch some smeared makeup. “Last time I commit to the leather pants.”

Exhaling a laugh, you slowly pull your thighs together, hoping to lessen the vibrations currently traveling through your pussy. “Well, you look great.”

“Thanks,” she laughs before gesturing up and down at your costume. “What about you, hm? This is the sexiest corset I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, it’s quite hard to breathe in,” you retort playfully, glancing over the pink silk on your torso. “This will also be the last time I commit to lingerie in public.”

“Fair enough. But that’s what Halloween is for, right? So you can be your true, slutty self just for one night.”

You chuckle again before slowly looking over to catch a glimpse of your sadistic boyfriend. However, you find that the smug bastard is now nowhere to be found. Having disappeared from the room, leaving you to struggle without him.

And then, you feel the strength increase.

It’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pleasure building in your stomach or the sharp rushes of ecstasy that echo across your clit. Which you suppose is his goal, although you aren’t sure why he’s so determined to make you fall apart under so many obvious eyes.

But you imagine that’s part of the fun. The idea that even though he can’t be with you, he can control your pleasure.

And you have to admit…you adore him for it.

With a shaky exhale, you nod your head toward the exit. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia nods. “No problem. I’ll be here.”

Leaving her with a smile, you begin to search for where he might have gone. You imagine his office, although you aren’t quite sure how you’re meant to meet him when so many people are watching.

Sure, more than half the room is drunk or otherwise occupied, but you don’t want to taunt fate. Especially after begging him to come in the first place.

But the painful pleasure in your cunt is beginning to worsen and you realize rather quickly that there’s only one solution.

Him.

So, you take a deep breath and slip into the adjoining hall, traveling through the darkness until you find his door.

You take a deep breath and knock twice, calling a soft but hopeful, “Mr. Styles? Are you in there?”

The sound of a lock turning nearly makes you shiver, and you can’t help but grin giddily as the door swings open, and a hand outstretches for you.

You’re yanked inside before you can even offer a greeting, tossed mercilessly toward his desk while he slams the door shut, and turns to face you.

And he’s stunning. So effortlessly beautiful, even with the blood dripping down his face. You wonder if you should be worried you find this so attractive, but you don’t exactly have it in you to care. Because the way his disheveled suit hugs his broad frame is sinfully delicious and the ruby droplets smeared across his jaw makes your cunt clench around the toy.

He strides toward you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst. Eyes dark and clouded with salacious intentions. 

He takes hold of your face between strong palms and crashes his mouth to yours. Hips pushing you back until you collide with the wooden table just behind you. Trapping you there while you gasp for air and tangle your fingers in his messy curls.

He groans in response, nipping at your bottom lip until you can’t breathe. “Gonna fucking kill me, Peach. Walking around in this slutty little costume. Almost came in my pants when you bent over.”

You smirk lazily as his kisses move down your neck. “Good, that was my plan.”

He makes another animalistic noise before shoving at your waist a bit harder. 

One hand disappears back into his pocket while the other travels up your fishnet stockings and settles against your cunt. The heel of his palm pressing against your covered clit as his harsh kisses dance beneath your ear.

“Shit, Har—” you gasp before you feel him tug your skin between his teeth. “Sir. Please…need…”

“I know,” he grunts, increasing the power of the toy until you’re both moaning. “Can feel it, Peach. Feels good, hm? Feels so fucking good. Bet you’re gonna cum in your pretty, little panties before I even touch you, yeah?”

You make another incoherent noise as his hand pushes the toy further into your pussy. The electric vibrations reverberate across his palm, doubling the sensation until your head just about drops back. Making the bunny ears slip to the ground, forgotten. 

“Good,” he hums, and you feel a bit of his fake blood smear across your neck. “S’a good girl, honey. Already close, aren’t you? What a pathetic little thing. Always fall apart so fast when I use a toy to play with you.”

You nod quickly in agreement. After all, he’s right. Vibrators have you coming faster than almost anything else – besides his cock.

And his mouth.

This is a fact he utilizes now, nudging the vibrator further into you until your legs begin to shake. You can feel it in your stomach, the first unraveling as it becomes stronger, and louder, and faster.

You fling an arm around his shoulders for stability before you’re disintegrating beneath him. Writhing and squirming and panting as he sees you through. 

“There you go,” he whispers, mouth brushing over yours. Wanting to taste your moans as you come down. “You’re all right, my love. Doing so good, hm? Gonna give me another?”

You nod faintly and he smirks before reaching beneath your corset top to find the decorative panties attached to your costume. 

He shoves them aside without pause before ripping the delicate fabric of the stockings almost fiercely. And far too easily for your liking.

He then retrieves the small toy from inside your cunt – smiling when he feels how soaked the silicone has become – before he’s dragging it up to your clit. Pressing the stimulating tip into your sensitive and swollen nerves as you suddenly gasp and go reeling.

“Shh,” he hushes, glancing over your face. “Can’t be too loud, hm? Y’know I love it when you scream for me, but we can’t let me hear, can we?”

“It’s…it’s Halloween,” you counter. “They’re used to screams.”

But Mr. Styles merely smirks. “Be that as it may…I don’t want to share your screams with anyone else. Not tonight.”

You feel your head grow fuzzier as he dips down to take your lips with his.

“Tonight…your screams belong to me,” he exhales against your tongue before he’s pressing the vibrator harder against your cunt.

You’re a mess. Soaking his hand, your outfit, the toy. Shaking almost pitifully while he finally releases the remote to press his palm to the back of your neck. Forcing your faces together until neither one of you can breathe without the other.

He was right, you are pathetic. So goddamn tragic as you begin to shake beneath the bullet. Already close to your second orgasm of the evening before he’s even had a chance to tease you.

But you don’t think he minds. He collects your orgasms like Pokémon cards. Wearing the number proudly until you’re nothing but a pile of limbs in his arms.

Two is only a start. And you know as long as he has this toy, he plans to force you into many more.

“Fucking shit, Peach,” he groans, forehead resting against yours as he glances down at where his hand is settled between your thighs. “Oh, that’s my girl. Always behave so well for me. Knew you would, yeah? Just like you promised.”

Again, you can do nothing but nod weakly. Still clinging to his body like a lifeline while he strokes you through the aftershocks.

“Okay,” he finally sighs, removing the toy and swiping his thumb across your clit. Collecting the arousal waiting for him just to bring it up to his lips. “Okay, honey, turn around. Bend over the desk for me.”

You whimper at the way he takes his body from you and from the very idea of what comes next. You hate that you won’t be able to see his face, but you adore this position. Especially because of the way he manhandles you.

Like now as his hands suddenly grasp onto your hips to fling you around so you’re facing his large, floor to ceiling windows.

The city is beautiful at night. Lit up like a prize, vast and seemingly endless. It’s one of your favorite things about his office and you smile to yourself as you take in the view.

But you aren’t afforded the chance to daydream long before he’s weaving his fingers through your roots and pushing you down until your chest meets his desk. Keeping you bent and pliable as he undoes his leather belt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, squeezing your scalp as though to reward you. “Gonna fuck you quick. Can’t have Nadia come looking for you, can we?”

You whimper a response before you hear his pants fall to the floor, followed by a snapping of elastic as he pulls his cock from his briefs. 

“Let me have a look at you,” he grits, releasing your head so he can stand back and admire your dripping pussy. Pulling back the costume until your cunt is on display for his hungry eyes. “So fucking cute, Peach. S’all pretty and red. Just weeping for me, hm?”

“Sir—”

“Get all sensitive when I make you cum a lot, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “Your puffy little clit gets all swollen and achy, hm?”

“Yes…yes, Sir, please—”

“Just one more for now, yeah? Just one. And then I’ll take you home and do it right.”

There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained. A sharp thrill that lives beneath your skin. He’s everything. His voice, his touch, his intentions. Even his mind. It’s wickedly beautiful and you adore him more than anything in the world.

You feel his fingers smooth through your folds. Teasing you for only a moment before you feel his cock come into play. Repeating the action of pressing and slipping through the wetness that awaits him.

“Can’t tell you what this costume does to me,” he whispers, groping your side with one hand. Preparing you. “You, and this tight, little fucking top, and these goddamn tights. Everybody was staring when you came in. Fucking everybody and I could’ve killed them.”

You moan something akin to his name, but he’s not listening. He’s lost on you. On your body and the way it looks, spread out before him.

“Even this fucking bunny tail,” he snorts, and you feel him pinch the fuzzy ball on your ass playfully. “Sits so pretty on you, y’know. Just like that plug I got you.”

“Shit,” you mumble, stomach clenching at the memory. “Har—”

His hand comes down in a sharp strike to your left ass cheek as you jolt. “Uh-uh. What’s my name?”

“Sir,” you correct, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir, please…please fuck me. Need you so bad—”

“Do you, hm?” He lands another spank before smoothing over the area with calmer motions.

You nod. “You look so good, Sir. Can’t…can’t stand it.”

Even without being able to see him, you can picture his smirk. “Do I?”

“Yes,” you exhale, almost groaning from the thought. “Covered in blood, wearing my favorite suit. Even the way you did your hair. S’been so hard to keep my hands off you tonight.”

You hear a dark, rather sadistic chuckle. “You like the blood, do you?”

You whimper. “Know I shouldn’t, but…it makes you look so fucking hot, Sir.”

Another harsh smack to your ass. Louder this time. “You know how I feel about your cussing, Peach.”

“M’sorry, Sir. But it’s true. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

He spanks you a fourth time but he’s still chuckling. “I’ll remember that,” he murmurs, kneading the tender flesh in his palm. “Never thought my precious peach would have such dirty fantasies.”

“I don’t, Sir. Only when it’s you.”

And he seems to like this idea, cursing in the back of his throat before nudging the tip of his cock against your clit. Making you both gasp until he finds your hole.

The first push in is delicious. Slow enough to prepare you and ease you open, but it’s everything. Scratching an itch that makes your brain turn to mush. Until you’re nearly collapsing onto his desk with anxious whimpers. 

“Good,” he breathes from behind you. “Good girl. That’s it, my love. Let me in, just like that. You all right?”

Another faint motion of your head. One that almost concerns him as he laces his fingers back through your roots.

“Peach,” he grunts. “Know I need your words. And you will give them to me when I ask for them. So what’s your color?”

“Green,” you whisper, nails curling into the wooden table beneath. “M’sorry, Sir, I’m green. Just feels so good. Wanted…to focus. To feel you.”

You hear him sigh before he’s pushing in a bit further. “Then fucking feel me.”

He sits inside your cunt like he was always meant to be there. Warm and thick and the perfect stretch. Making the stars return to your eyes as you begin to cry out his name.

However, he releases your scalp only to reach around and smack his palm against your lips. Keeping you quiet as he begins his thrusts.

“Uh-uh,” he warns. “Be a good little bunny and stay quiet.”

The pace is slow at first. Just enough to drive you absolutely mad and you imagine the scariest thing about tonight is how easily you’ve become such a blubbering mess.

“Like it when Daddy’s mean, don’t you?” he calls, returning both hands to your hips. “Like it when I treat you like you’re nothing.”

You can feel the sticky substance of the fake blood smearing across your hips. Probably staining your clothes – an obvious mark of his touch. A mark you’d proudly wear for the rest of your life if he’d let you.

“So fucking wet, honey,” he hisses. “S’just drowning my cock, isn’t it?”

You offer a garbled noise.

“Yeah. Just dripping down me, baby. Begging me to do something about it. Begging me to fucking take you.”

Your entire body is shaking. Along with the desk and an assortment of papers and pens that become scattered with every sharp drive of his hips. 

And you can hear it. Can hear the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy and echoing between the walls of his large office. Wet, and lewd, and almost pornographic in nature. It’s obvious how needy you are for him. How unhinged your body has become. Soaking him exactly the way he loves as he fucks himself into you.

You can feel the sweat beading at your hairline. Can hear your pulse thumping in your ears – in time to the music in the other room and the thrusting of his hips. Leaving you to do nothing but lay across his desk and take it. Take him, exactly the way he wanted.

“How about another, hm?” He squeezes your sides harshly before one hand leaves you. “Gonna give me another, my love?”

Nodding tiredly, you allow your lashes to flutter shut. Focusing instead on the sound of his voice and the rough touch of his fingertips. You can feel it building. Can practically taste the beginnings of a third orgasm. You’re powerless to the pleasure. Undone by the man behind you as he readjusts his stance and angles his cock up.

It’s wicked. The immense, overwhelming, and unfathomable coursing of lust between each joint, and muscle, and fiber. You can’t escape it, can’t fight it. Can’t even understand it.

That’s what you needed. That spot, that attention. Over and over and over, and he’s so good at hitting it just right. Only to drag his cock back out and leave you empty and wilted.

“Relax,” he orders firmly before a familiar buzzing reverberates between your ears. “Relax, Peach. It’s okay, honey. Just want one more.”

The bullet is snaked around your hip before it’s pressing firmly to your clit. Forcing the sensitive and swollen bud to succumb to the vibrations and bring you that much closer.

You cry out for a second time, hands scratching down his desk, but he only curses through gritted teeth.

“There you go,” he exhales, and it’s thick. “S’okay, I’ve got you.”

He’s a mad man. Deranged and borderline animalistic with the way he demands your body bend to his will.

“Sir—” You suck in a large gasp for air, but it’s useless. “Har, please—”

His large palm spanks down on your ass as punishment, but he doesn’t comment on your slip.  “I know. Almost there. Know you’re almost there, can feel you clenching, baby. Keep going. Feels so fucking good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Know it hurts, but you can do it. You’ll do it, come on.”

And you want to, you do. More than anything, but it’s almost too good. You can’t think properly, can’t seem to relax long enough to let the orgasm overtake you.

Then, he’s wrangling you up. Pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest while he nudges his nose against your cheek. Inhaling you with a groan before he trails a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck. 

And in the reflection of his office windows, you see your silhouettes.

You, in your stunning Playboy costume, tits bouncing up out of the corset with each thrust, fake blood painted across your face and neck.

And him.

The devastatingly wonderful man behind you. Dressed in the sexiest suit you’ve ever seen, gelled curls gone askew, and that same blood dripping down almost every inch of him.

And he’s pounding his cock into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Trapping you against his body, your heaving chest in one hand, and the vibrating toy in the other. 

“So good, Peach,” he whispers. “So fucking good. Need you to cum, baby, please. Right now. Cum.”

And you do.

You don’t expect it. Have no time to prepare for it. Don’t even understand it’s happening until that white-hot explosion is dancing down your spine and expanding through your stomach. All the way into your toes as you whimper his name and wither in his touch. 

He does his best to hold you up while maintaining the pace he set. Faster and harder until he’s spilling inside of you with a moan. Mumbling your name while a hundred praises follow suit.

The aftershocks of this one seem to drag on longer than most. But you both indulge in the floaty feeling as you work to catch your breath. Syncopating to each other’s inhales until your heartbeats become one. 

“Did so good,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek to yours. “God, so fucking good. Feel like heaven, you know that?”

You smile lazily and settle into his arms, allowing your weight to rest atop his. “Well…it’s easy when you look like this.”

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “You really do have a blood kink, hm?”

“No, I have a you-covered-in-blood kink. I don’t care when it’s anybody else.”

Now, he reaches out to slide his finger under your chin and turn your face to his. Staring at you for only a moment before he kisses you. Hard and yet filled with an emotion you just might recognize.

“Want you to do something for me, Peach,” he mumbles against your lips.

You nod quickly.

“Want you to fix your little panties…go down to my car…and wait for me.” 

You feel your breath hitch.

He smiles.

“We’ve got some videotapes to make.”

~ One for the Money Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[seraphicsentences]

hlllo can you pleas do football!ellie ina rush and really needing her sport shirt that reader is wearing, but since reader is so unbothered to change she takes it off right there n it gets ellie thinking if she should even go!!!!!! maybe a little smutty smut ‼️‼️inluv with yur writinggg

hi baby yes i can thank you for the request sweet girl. sorry this took a little while i appreciate your patience. also yes i know i said i was going on a break yesterday and then proceeded to bang out this entire thing, my bipolar ass got bored. enjoy! <3

“BABE?”

“BAAAABE?” ellie calls louder as you hear her stumbling through your shared apartment, clearly in a rush.

“babe, have you seen my-oh there it is,” she swings into the room abruptly, stopping in her tracks when she sees her much needed football jersey, adorned by yours truly.

“hey els, what’s up?” you ask, propping yourself up on the bed, and shooting her a look so sickly sweet, savage starlight comic in hand.

ellie’s existence can be found in all aspects of you at the moment, from the clothes you’ve “borrowed” and your choice of fine literature, to the purpled bruises littering your jaw and collarbone.

ellie can’t help but let her buzzing pre-game thoughts slow at the sight of you, and fester around thinking mine, mine, mine.

“hey pretty girl, i just really need my jersey for practice. do you mind changing, pretty please? i’m late,” she says softly, leaning over the mattress to press a warm kiss against your forehead.

“aw, fine, i’ll just wear nothing then,” you joke, reaching over your head to pull off the top in one swift move, revealing your bare chest with marks to match your neck.

you watch knowingly as ellie quite literally shutters: caught up in the sight of what’s literally a physical manifestation of the guilty pleasure that is her possessiveness.

—and you revel in the power trip that this is. because how is it that mere nakedness, something that’s more you than anything else you could put on your skin, is enough to make ellie fucking williams crumble.

and so all you do is smirk when, without sparing even a glance away, ellie tosses the held-out jersey lazily over one shoulder and leans in to indulge herself with another kiss; this time a proper, messy one on your parted lips.

“on second thought,” she says, in between breaths, before diving down to swirl her tongue around your hardened nipples, greedily sucking and licking at them like your own fucking baby.

you’re nothing but powerless to her hypnotic ministrations, as much of a fool for her as she is for you, letting low moans out freely from the back of your throat.

moving back up to kiss you like she wants to consume your sounds, the aggressiveness of ellie’s actions leave you nowhere to go but fall backwards onto the bed, chest pressing up to brush your pointed nipples lush against ellie’s chest.

“fuck, baby,” she rasps into your mouth, slipping her hand between the two of you to knead at your breast, calloused fingers thumbing over your nipples. she watches in awe as you shudder at the sensation, hooded eyes begging for more.

“fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles with a smile, mouthing over her previously left bruises with a hot, flat-tongued lick. feeling the vibrations on your throat as you laugh at her, she gently nips at your skin, letting out a laugh of her own as she feigns annoyance.

“shut up,” she chuckles, suffocating your laughs with the press of her mouth, continuing to make out with you in the delicious way that it is to make out with her.

ellie pries a knee between your squeezed thighs, nudging it upwards in such kind offerance to your burning heat— to which you take, hips immediately grinding up in desperation.

but just as quickly as it was given to you is it taken away.

ellie sits up with a jolt, mussing with your hair as she replaces her shirt with the jersey hurriedly. she stumbles towards the door with a guilty look in her eyes, pausing only to ramble, “coach is gonna kill me, sorry babe. that’s what you get for being such a tease! i’ll make it up to you, you fuckin’ minx. i love you!" before sprinting out the door, shoelaces undone.

you lay there, frozen and topless with your panties soaked, and you curse ellie out, that little bitch.

[strawberrysturniolo]

never grow up part two

summary: chris and sunny's friendship is put to the test as they navigate new changes between them, following them having sex

angstyyyyyyyyyy part 1 part 3

Every morning at the Sturniolo’s house starts the same.  Chris and I are always the last out of bed even though we wake up before everyone else. We spend hours talking and laughing and avoiding interaction with anyone else. Even when we were just friends, we just wanted to be alone together. 

Now, things are slightly different. 

I woke up with Chris’ arms enclosed around my body. He never was the type to cuddle, but maybe it’s because he’s going back to LA in a few days that he feels like he should hold onto me until that time comes. 

I had forgotten about that. The whole fact that he’d have to leave soon. 

He shifts a bit beneath me, stirring awake. His eyes search for mine, looking for a sign that I’m awake too. I close my eyes quickly, but with a laugh beneath me, I know I wasn’t fast enough. 

“I saw that,” he says. “What are you pretending you’re sleeping for?”

“You looked so cute, I didn’t want to wake you up. I thought if I pretended to sleep then you’d go back to sleep and I could admire you longer.”

He smiles softly, pulling me closer. “You’re adorable.” My heart races a little. “You liked that, huh?” he asks, feeling my heart against his chest.

I push myself off of him, rolling my eyes. “Shut up.”

Flashbacks from last night come rushing in like a storm cloud, preparing to strike me with every mistake we may have made. I don’t want to think that sex with Chris was a mistake, but I can’t let myself feel these things for him if he’s going back to LA, which is of course going to happen. 

From the kiss, to the sex, to us cuddling after, every touch of our bodies felt like a rush of electricity until we were destined to burn out. 

“You hungry?” he snaps me out of my daze where my thoughts started consuming me. “Mom’s making french toast. Your favorite.”

Mom. Because she was never just his mom. She was always a second mother to me. 

“And yours,” I remind him. 

He smiles, nodding in agreement. “That’s why we work so well together.”

Then, he kisses me. 

It’s so natural like he hasn’t even thought about it. Like he didn’t have to. Like it’s everything he’s been wanting to do. 

“I need to change. I’ll be down in a minute though,” I give him a half smile, realizing that I’m in nothing more than my underwear and Chris’ old t-shirt. 

He kisses my forehead, then leaves the room. 

I pull on a pair of Chris’ sweatpants and a hoodie, covering myself head to toe in his wardrobe. When I walk downstairs, no one says anything about me wearing his clothes. No one cares. This is how it’s always been, even before he was burying himself inside of me last night. 

“Morning, Sunny,” Matt says through a mouthful of his breakfast. He washes it down with a swig of orange juice, barely looking up at me as he eats and tries to talk at the same time. 

I sit next to him as Chris’ mom makes me a plate of food, sliding it down in front of me. Chris stands by the fridge, pouring himself some water from the dispenser in the fridge. I look up, catching his eye. 

He starts to smile at me, the smallest smile that sends a zoo of butterflies scattering through my body. 

“What the fuck are you doing!” Nick exclaims, tossing his arms up towards Chris as he looks down at the puddle of water on the floor he just stepped into. 

Chris’ eyes go wide at the glass of water overflowing in his hand, dripping into a small pond on the floor. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Dude, clean it up!” Matt adds, this time without his mouth full. 

“I am dipshit!” he calls back, dropping a towel on the floor and swiping it on the tile with his foot.

Chris sits to the left of me at the island, eating his breakfast silently. 

With some small talk being made as everyone eats, the only thing I’m focused on is Chris’ taps onto my foot with his own. 

“Something funny?” Matt asks, noticing my smile and quiet giggles as I play footsie with his brother. 

“Sorry, it’s nothing.”

—

“You’re lying!” I yell at him. 

“I’m not!” he shouts back, inches from my face.

“You’re a fucking liar!”

“And you’re overdramatic!”

“You do remember, you’re just embarrassed.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why would I want to remember me throwing up after I had my first kiss.”

I erupt into laughter as he finally gives into his embarrassing memory. He punches my arm forcefully.

“HEY!”

“I was 12 and scared! And I chugged like three sodas beforehand so yeah, I thought I was gonna burp, and then I threw up. Laugh it up.”

“Oh, I will,” I tease him further, watching him shake his head at me. 

“Mmm,” he hums, nodding his head at me as he brings his face closer to mine, brushing our noses as our lips find each other. 

I give him a quick kiss, making him whine as I pull away.

“More,” he says, his eyes closed as he smiles. 

I peck his lips again, just for him to ask for more. 

“Chris!” I scold him, laughing.

“What!” he shouts back defensively. “I’m making up for lost time here.”

I find myself giving in, just like I always do. I give into everything that screams his name. I give into anything that gives me some of him, even though now I have all of him.

Our lips press together like it’s everything that we’re supposed to be. His hand holds my face, and as the kiss grows from soft pecks to a heavier makeout, I’m eternally grateful that we came to my house. Two nights at his place would be too suspicious. We would always alternate houses as kids. 

He sits on my couch in my new apartment that I share with my college roommate. Luckily, she’s at work. With him in Boston for now, we don’t have to worry about alternating houses. If he wants to stay here and sleep in my bed and hold me and kiss me while we sleep, we don’t need anyone’s permission anymore. That’s what I remind myself as I climb into his lap. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers against my lips. 

Baby. 

Not Sunny. 

Not even my real name. 

He calls me baby. 

I can’t even kiss him for a second because of the way my lips curl into a smile. 

He pulls back and looks at me, analyzing my expression. “What’s that for?”

“You called me baby.”

I feel his body release a casual shrug. “It’s nothing,” he says. 

But to me it’s everything. 

I smile into another kiss, holding him close. His hands grip my hips, shifting me slightly on his crotch. A gasp escapes my lips, just enough noise for him to break our mouths apart and lock his eyes on mine, watching the satisfaction rise through my body.

“I love learning what you like,” he nods, flicking his eyes all over my face. “I never remember ever having to learn something new about you. This is so refreshing. I love having more of you.”

My hips dip forward, searching for some sort of release of the ache as I feel my clit begging for attention. As I rock my hips on him, I find the strength between my staggered breathing to say, “I’m yours.”

He raises his thumb to my bottom lip, pulling it downward. His eyes are full of lust as he sucks his own lip in between his teeth, biting down on it hard like he’s holding himself back. 

“You always have been.”

I just about melt into him, the kiss pulling us together like the strongest magnets. Even on opposite sides of the country, we’re destined to be drawn together. 

He wraps his arms around my lower back, holding me tight as he pulls me into his body, picking me up slightly and laying me down on the length of the couch, all without letting his mouth leave mine. 

“I don’t want to know a world where I’m not your number one girl,” I confess to him, the words slipping out of me as I know our events of last night could have changed everything between us. 

“Well,” he starts to say, making me freeze. “Apart from my mom and maybe my future daughter, you’re definitely number one.”

Good answer. 

His mouth dips to my neck, pushing his own sweatshirt on my body aside as he searches for the spot with the easiest access, but can also double as a sweet spot that will have me begging him for more.

As he places sloppy kisses on my neck and his hands push against my stomach, I have a random rush on panic in my body, like I need answers before I need him inside of me again.

“Chris?”

“Hmm,” he lets out a hum, trying not to break contact between us.

“We need to talk.”

He groans, but not the kind filled with pleasure. He sounds pissed off. “Right now?”

I nod. “Yes, right now.” 

He sits up on his knees. “Can you give me like… ten minutes?” 

I shake my head. 

He lets out a gentle sigh, not one of annoyance, but rather an exhale after the rush of our bodies that we had been looking for until I stopped it. 

He runs his hand through his hair, correcting the placement of his curls after I threw them off as we kissed and started touching each other. “What’s up?”

I struggle to find the right words to tell him what is going on inside my brain. How do I make him understand that I’m terrified of losing our friendship because of us having sex, or that I’m scared to ruin our friendship through a relationship, but all I’ve thought of growing up is what it would be like to know he was my boyfriend, and no one else's?

“I just – I think– Last night,” I struggle, but the words start to form. “I had a lot of fun last night. It was really good. And right now, I want to do that again… I just–”

Chris’ expression changes numerous times as I take him on a mental journey with me. He looks worried, then smiles, then looks worried again. 

“We don’t have to have sex again right now,” he reminds me. “I just thought you wanted to because you got in my lap but I should have asked–”

“No,” I interrupt him, almost too passionate about the topic of sex with him, but hey, that’s years of pent up frustration coming out. “It’s not about the sex.”

“You sure?” he pushes a bit further, raising an eyebrow at me. 

I nod. “It has nothing to do with the sex… entirely…” I’m ruining this by speaking. “I’ve liked you for so long, Chris.”

I watch him swallow. It’s like he’s nervous. He doesn’t say anything. 

So I continue and hope that he interrupts me at some point. 

“I’ve always liked you and I always wanted something more in our friendship but if that never happened, I was okay with that, because we were Sunny and Chris, and that was always enough. But after last night, and the way things have been going all day… I guess I’ve just been thinking about how things might be if we… you know… tried.”

“Tried what?” he asks me blankly.

I blink at him a few times, waiting for it to register, but it never does. 

“A relationship,” I say simply. 

His face contorts. 

My heart just about fucking stops functioning. 

“Why would we do that?”

I don’t bother hiding the fact that my face fell in front of him. I scoot back a bit, feeling uncomfortable with being so brave and outspoken. I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but as I juggle that idea, I remember that he started this. I have no reason to doubt what I thought he felt. He gave me this.

“We had sex last night,” I remind him, as if he could possibly forget. 

“I know that. I’m saying… why would we start a relationship just because we had sex?”

He waits for me to say something back, but I’m at a loss for words. I’m treading water in the deepest of oceans, and all I want right now is to fucking drown and never come back up after this. 

“It was just sex,” he adds.

That sucks me underwater, and I’m struggling to breathe.

Except in real life, it pushes me to stand up in front of him, taking control. “Just sex?!”

The scariest part of this is that he doesn’t even look like he feels that he’s said anything wrong. 

“Sun–”

“I don’t just have sex, Chris,” I cut him off, the fear, anger, sadness, and sudden regret pour out of me. “And I would never just have sex with you. I had sex with you because I thought things were different. I thought you wanted me differently. And now that we’ve had sex, you’re just gonna go back to LA and we’re gonna what? Go back to not speaking on the phone and only communicating through meaningless Snapchats?”

He stares at the floor, not a thought leaving his head and entering his mouth, clearly, because he says nothing back. 

“If you can’t figure this out on your own with that college brain, then I have nothing else to say to you,” he finally says. He grabs his phone and adjusts his clothing before he stands up and places himself inches from my face. “Figure it out and then call me.”

“What does me being in college have to do with this?” I ask.

“You know exactly what it means!” he says, his volume much louder than before, catching me off guard. “You act like you’re so much higher than me-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” I interject quickly. “I was always the person supporting you and telling you to chase your dreams. I was always the one telling everyone that you were gonna make it big.”

“Right, but you don’t want me to go to LA.”

He starts walking away, and without hesitating, I run after him. 

“This isn’t about LA!” I shout. “This is about you and me!”

He spins around on his feet, his face inches from mine as he yells back, “I know that!”

“It’s about you and if you’re ready to be in a relationship, and if you’re willing to do distance for us-”

“Are you serious? If I’m willing?” he argues, stepping closer to me. I step back. It’s like I don’t know him anymore. “I’ve been following you around like an abandoned puppy since the day we met and you’re still asking yourself what I want?”

I let my voice drop to a much lower volume, practically a mumble. “What do you want?”

“YOU! I WANT YOU!”

I fall silent. My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. He’s here. I haven’t lost him. We just have to get through this new part of us. 

“Do you want me?” he asks, noticing my silence as I tried to gather my thoughts. 

Of course I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and I always will.

I want to be your biggest fan, on the sidelines watching you succeed and achieve every dream I remember you telling me about as we colored with sidewalk chalk as kids until we skinned our fingers from rubbing the chalk into the pavement too hard.

I don’t know how long we’ve been in silence. I don’t know how long I’ve been having a mental battle with myself. 

I want to be with Chris, but I don’t think we want each other the same way. 

I want to have a relationship with him. I want to call him mine and know that he’s no one else’s. I want to look at pictures of us as kids and laugh, thinking about how things have changed.

He wants freedom, and he wants to have fun. I was there, and we didn’t give ourselves to each other. I gave myself to him, and he gave me the Chris that he gives every girl in LA. He made me think I was more than that to him. I should be more than that, and that’s what makes me hesitant above all. 

When he goes back to LA, everything falls back to the way it was, and that’s the last thing I want. Yet, I can’t bring myself to beg for change, because I know it won’t happen unless he wants this too. 

“Cool,” nods. He tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and slips his shoes on. He heads to the door and says, “I’ve spent my entire life chasing after someone who couldn’t give a fuck about me.”

Then, he leaves. 

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld @sturniolovoid @aerunn @sturniolosmind @oliviasturniolo21 @carolsturns1 @scarssturniolo @stuniolobbg @sturniolowhore

[monimccoythings]

Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)

This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.

This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.

Tw: mentions of death

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.

The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.

You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.

He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.

Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.

Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.

When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.

Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)

Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.

Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.

It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.

You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.

[wosoluvrr]

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine || a. russo x reader (1)

summary: everyone knew the game against united was going to be scrappy, but no one was quite prepared for that.

warnings: lots of talking about blood and injury, angstangstangst, a curse word or two, not much else i don’t think

a/n: i love that quote by richard siken and i just have to be different so i figured including it in my first fic/writing thing (?) was the way to go. anyways, i hope you enjoy! i’m happy to be here, and excited to post more and hopefully get to know some of you:) all my love 🤍

"what the fuck is your problem, zelem?" the question came out more like an insult, your body taking over as you moved towards her on the pitch. in doing so, you left alessia's side, the girl flat against the pitch as she gripped at her ankle and fought back tears. vic and lia stayed kneeled beside her, the rest of the team taking notice and making their way towards the midfield where alessia had gone down.

katie only rolled her eyes at your screaming, sparing alessia a quick glance and then focusing back onto you. "i barely touched her, you've all gone soft," she replied with a scoff, her teammates remaining in their positions.

"the audacity you have is a bit mind blowing really, who'd you have to pay to get that armband?"

she doesn't reply this time, her face curling into an expression you can't quite read. you're not sure how the hell you'd come up with something like that, but you opt to keep your expression blank as you turned your attention to the ref who was jogging towards the scene.

alessia still wasn't getting up, the ref signaling for the medics as she made her way from the scene to the two of you. jen was approaching you as well, her face offering a warning for you to take the scolding and not let anything go further.

before the ref can reach you she pulls out a yellow card on zelem, writing her name down sloppily once she arrives and beginning her scolding of the two of you. jen's hand on your shoulder keeps you in your own spot, zelem's eyes fixed blankly on your own as the ref opts to check back in with the medics and leave the three of you alone.

"keep your mutt off my shit, beattie." she begins to storm off but you're quick to follow, your body slipping out of jen's hand as your pace quickens.

your only intent was to give her a push and bag the yellow card, deeming it worth the release of steam. however, somehow seconds after zelem had jolted forward and turned to make her way back towards you, a first slammed square into your face. you ended up on your hands and knees, spitting blood into the grass below you.

medics guessed a broken nose and a split lip which might need stitches due to your face accidentally getting stepped on when the players reacted.

sitting on the locker room floor was undeniably embarrassing, your body slumped against the wall as you struggled to keep the gauze firmly against your face. even with the pain consuming you, it was hard not to wonder just how badly you’d be punished.

benched for x amount of games? kicked off the squad? banned from football for life? the possibilities seemed endless, each one worse than the other.

"that was quite the shove you got in," alessia was standing in the doorway, the large puffer coat on her body making your eyes crinkle in place of a smile.

you didn't dare take your eyes off the floor as the shame burning within you only deepened in her presence. there wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to know how angry she was with you, the thought of her conveying her disappointment making you feel sick.

"your ankle?" you ask, ignoring her insinuation.

alessia laughs gently, properly walking into the room and shedding her puffer onto the closest surface.

"rolled, which really sucks." she moves a stool in front of a bench, slightly limping her way over to you as she extends her hand out. "i'll be out for a few weeks at worst.”

you feel like crying, the girl in front of you wrapped in a bandage and you had somehow managed to make things worse. you accept her hand and allow her to guide you to the bench, your head falling back against the lockers as you groan.

"why aren't you at the hospital?"

"i wanted to apologize before i went," you answer. "my selfishness is making sure i don’t do a very good job at that.”

your voice is more pathetic than you imagined it'd be, the pain from your face spreading all around your body. pain was doable when it was just pain, but this just had too much in it for you to feel able to manage it.

"let me help you," she beats your slew of apologies, hands reaching out to the hold the rag against you. her fingers are cold against your hand for the seconds they do touch causing you to pull away quickly, the burning in your arm from holding it up so long dulling down to an ache.

her pressure immediately becomes too harsh and you moan in pain, arm back in the air as your hand roughly grips onto her own. "please be gentle," you gasp, her face washing with regret as she nods, free hand moving to rest on your bare thigh.

her newly adjusted position has her face far too close to your own and you're certain if your nose was working you'd be able to smell her minty breath. it was really her eyes that had you going crazy, the deep blue they sported making you feel dizzy as you examined them.

"thank you," you start, eyes closing as you continue to fight the threat to cry. "i regret it already, i don’t want to be a violent person.”

you quickly find that it's easier to look past alessia, fixating on the door frame and instead of anything else. she's frowning back at you, trying to come up with the right things to say.

"you're a sweet girl," her voice is barely a whisper. "katie's completely fine, and you're going to be fine too, yeah?"

you nod, finally looking her in the eyes.

“is ella angry, you think?”

you hadn’t even considered how awful it must’ve been for you to start a fight with a team that coincided with tooney. there was somehow more guilt to be felt, your brain imagining the damage you may have caused between the two girls.

she doesn’t answer, eyes narrower than they were before.

"i'm sorry, alessia." it's sincere, your head nodding to convey your feelings better as she nods back, something resembling her usual smile creeping onto her lips.

"you can check that off the list now," she teases, a feeling of relief spreading through your body. “i just want you to be okay.”

you had expected her to be far more angry, far more disappointed in you. but, she's not. because how could she be? it was alessia, after all. sweet, composed, and painfully beautiful alessia.

it's embarrassing how caught you are by her even in the state your in, your mind barely able to keep up with just how closely you're getting to see the girl now. you decide now you have to very carefully memorize the small details of her face, selfishly noting you'd probably never be this close to her ever again.

"you're too good to me," it's barely a whisper, your eyes shamefully fixated on alessia's lips. it's hard to contain yourself anymore, your heartbeat finallt recognizing that there was more than pain against you in this moment.

"no such thing," she says.

she readjusts her hand and tilts your head to the side in an effort to examine if anything else had left you with marks. to her disappointment, she finds the scratches your face had taken from the rest of the cleat on your face. it wasn't a pretty sight, you were sure of that, but her gaze didn't feel like pity.

she was looking at you like she always did, merely taking you in for what you were.

she moves the gauze slowly away, wincing at the what was beneath the fabric. your nose is offset, blues and greens inviting themselves into your usual complexion. dried blood stained it’s way from your nostrils to your mouth, your bottom lip sporting the nasty gash.

it was uncomfortable knowing how ugly you must look right now. you opted to close your eyes and pretend you were somewhere else, desperately trying to act normal when she ran her thumb over your cheekbone.

“i’m sorry about the blood in your mouth,” she whispers. “i just wish it was mine.”

you’re crying now, body shaking with sobs as she pulls you into her chest, your chin hooking onto her shoulder as you cried. alessia’s fingers are rubbing your back, her lips whisper ‘it’s okay’ over and over until you start to believe her.

“i think it’s time you get some help with all this, don’t you think?” you’re still pressed against her, hands desperately clenching her jersey. you don’t want to pull away. you don’t want to leave when you’re certain you’ll never have her like this again.

it’s selfish, having her like this when she doesn’t know the way you feel. it almost feels wrong to be tended to so lovingly by her, your secret administration making the weight of her actions far different for you.

but, of course you nod, pulling yourself out of her embrace and allowing her sweet hands to brush the matted hair from your forehead to the sides. her touch is so gentle you almost cry again, cursing your stupid brain for making things harder.

you wanted to ask her about so many things. you wanted to ask what she had meant about the blood and what she had meant when she chose to rest her hand on your thigh. or why she had chosen to be kind to you instead of absolutely losing her head over your recklessness.

you settle for a later date. “can i call you once i’m finished?”

the laugh she lets out makes you feel warm, her arms helping you to stand up and bracing you as she walks you to the physios. you curse yourself for asking something that stupid, walking into the room with a newfound embarrassment.

“you think i’d let you go alone?”

a/n: part 2, mayhaps? part 2 for a kiss and some confessions, mayhaps? feel free to request, too! i’d love the help :)

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 5

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x OC!reader, cursing, maybe. Self-doubt and insecurities.

Words: 3165

The One I Want Masterlist

---

You are stirred by a knock at your door and you flip over in bed, eyes widening when you find the sun too high in the sky for the hour you were expected to wake. 

“Shit! I’m gonna be late.” 

Throwing back the covers you hop out of the warmth of your mattress into the chill of the room, and rush toward the bathroom. But there’s another knock. Glancing between the door and the bathroom, you debate which is more important, but you know Jake is on the other side. And you know he won’t stop. So, quickly as you can, you make your way to the opposite side of the room and yank the door open. 

“Hey,” Jake says with a smile. “I was, uh…I–”

Your brow raises in question, but then you realize where the two-second glance of his eyes landed before they returned to your face. The speedy transition from comfy bed to cold air caused your nipples to bud and press through the thin fabric of your tight tank top. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, and ignoring the blush you can’t will away, you say, “What’s up?”

“You weren’t up for work, so I thought you might be sick or something.”

“Nope, not sick,” you reply, stepping back to ease the door closed. You really need to get ready. You’re already calculating how long each of your morning routine tasks will take if you operate at max speed. 

“Wait,” Jake says, his palm flattening against the door. It’s not forceful, you could slam it closed if you really wanted to, but the look on Jake’s face makes you pause for him. “When I pick you up, any chance you want to go to a bonfire? Just friends from work and a couple of locals. It’s not going to be anything crazy.”

“Yea, sure,” you rush out, not soaking in his words. You’re going to be late, he’s going to be late, and you need to get rid of him. 

Jake smiles again as he says, “Really?” and you nod, not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to. But it works to move him along. 

He wishes you a good day and begins to head for the front door when, suddenly, he pauses halfway on his path. You think he’s about to ask you something else that you won’t comprehend with the anxiety of being late to work consuming your thoughts, but he simply stands there with his back to you, blows out a breath, and rests one hand on his hip while the other runs through his hair.

“Calm the fuck down,” you hear him mutter before he collects himself and resumes his move toward the door and out of the apartment. 

Thankful that he’s finally gone, you shower as fast as humanly possible, dress, and run into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to shove into your bag and the first piece of food you can find, a banana, to devour before you leave. At this rate, you’ll only be fifteen minutes late, but considering you’ve not once been tardy in the week and a half you’ve worked at the shop, you hope the owner will go easy on you. No one buys souvenirs at nine a.m. on a Friday, anyway. Hopefully. 

But fifteen minutes late turns into twenty. 

With the last bite of banana chewed, you toss the peel into the garbage can, but before the automatic lid fully closes, you catch a glimpse of an all too familiar item with all too familiar writing. Your foot presses on the pedal to shoot the lid back open. Reaching inside, you smack the banana peel out of the way and wrap your hand around the mug. 

My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator. You know those words. You know this mug. You sold this mug, to a busty blonde with an attitude problem. 

Though Jake’s been gone for more than ten minutes, your line of vision meets the front door to the apartment as if he had shut it behind him only moments ago. 

—

Jake’s hand casually rests on top of the steering wheel, guiding his truck steadily with the heel of his palm, and you wonder if he’s handled everything in his life with such ease; if he’s faced a single hardship or if a beautiful fate shined down upon him from the very beginning. 

From the moment you met Jake, you could tell he’d grown up well. He walks with the confidence of a man who has years of praise straightening his spine and holding his shoulders back. He speaks without the fear of being scolded, though being in the military, you’re positive he’s been barked at enough for a lifetime. He’s smart and clean and put together as if there was never the possibility for him to be anything else. And here you are, not remembering the last time you weren’t tense walking out your front door. 

“I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” Jake says. 

It jolts you out of your thoughts. 

Jake hadn’t given you much of an explanation for how the night would unfold, and you were too embarrassed to ask, having not really listened to him that morning when he was asking you to join him. In fact, you’d forgotten your commitment to any activity after your shift until he showed up at the gift shop to pick you up with your sweater draped over the passenger seat claiming it gets a little chilly at night.

“It’s no problem,” you say in response, knowing that this event could absolutely be a problem. 

You don’t know these people well. You don’t know this location. You don’t know how to handle being around Jake for an entire night after finding that mug in the trash and feeling the tiniest of pangs in your chest. You don’t want to think about the woman who bought it, what she meant, or possibly still means, to him. 

Jake puts the truck in park and turns to you with a grin that brightens his eyes even in the dim light of the nearby street lamp. “Ready?”

“Sure,” you answer, a wobble in your voice. 

He hops out of the car and hurries to your side, opening the door and reaching out to you. You stare at his hand for a beat before you decide to slip yours into his grasp so he can help you make the short leap from your seat to the sand. 

“Thanks.”

He gives you a nod, but he doesn’t release your hand as he guides you to the glowing light in the distance and the many silhouettes surrounding it. 

It feels odd when the small group smiles at you as you close the distance to the bonfire—an immediate acceptance from Jake’s friends and team. A few from the team you’d only met once, briefly, but you wouldn’t have assumed you made enough of an impression for them to be so welcoming now. 

Javy rises from one of the unfoldable chairs and rushes to you with his arms spread wide. He greets you with a “Hello Sweetness” and what you’re sure would’ve been a lung-crushing squeeze if Jake hadn’t put his free hand against his friend's chest to stop him before he could get to you. 

“Hands to yourself,” Jake warns. 

Javy’s arms slap down to his sides with the same dramaticism of his lips falling into a pout. He glances down. “You don’t keep your hands to yourself,” he whines, but there’s a subtle tease to it, a little quirk of his mouth that has your eyes going wide and your hand jerking free from Jake’s.

His eyes dart to the loss of weight between his fingers, then over to you, and you can detect the disappointment on his face despite not looking his way to confirm it. He turns back to Javy, who becomes the line leader toward the rest of the group. 

“She’s here!” Javy announces to your embarrassment, then in a dull tone says, “Jake’s here, too, but that’s less important.”

One by one, each of Jake’s friends greet you with nods and more smiles and questions of “How are you?” and “How was your day?” and you do your best to answer. You meet four others. The Bob you’ve heard plenty about who instantly gives up his seat for you; Rooster’s girlfriend, Millie—a petite red-head with a southern twang to her voice and a laugh that echoes across the waves of the ocean; and Mav and Penny, a couple that seems to operate as the parental figures of their younger friends. 

For the most part, you keep quiet as the night goes on, and from that decision, learn plenty. After two hours of experiencing them all in one place, your previous belief that these people solely operate as friends and teammates is quickly tossed away. They are family, held together by far more powerful sources than blood. Their lives are interwoven. They’re protectors of one another on land as much as they are at sea and in the sky. But it’s the teasing and story-telling, genuine pride, and support of each other that stings your nose and blurs the edges of your vision from springing tears. 

You’ve never seen people exist like this. People damage, people rip apart, and then people leave. No one sticks around to aid in healing others’ wounds—you thought. But you could pick any one of those in front of you now—electively sitting around a pit of fire with bottles of beer in their hands as they enjoy one another's company—and know that they have healed someone to their left or right. In their living, breathing unit, each person is vital for continuing on, and for whatever reason, for the time being, you’ve been invited into them.

Jake, in the midst of retelling a crowd-pleasing story, doesn’t sense you slip away to nestle in the sand. His voice fades to the waves that slide over the damp and heavy grains to touch your toes, retreat, and reliably reach for you again. One of few things that comes back, you think. The waves, and Jake you suppose. Both of which you’re finding are masters of the rebound. There is no pushing away either without preparing yourself for their return. The waves aren’t going anywhere, and with how your fingertips still tingle from Jake’s hand in yours, you’re starting to believe neither is he. 

You can’t say how much time has passed when you’re joined by another.

“He noticed, ya know,” you hear just as the little redhead plops down beside you. “That you’re not next to him.”

With knees bent, you wrap your arms around your thighs and hum, daring yourself not to glance over your shoulder. You can’t figure out what you want. For his eyes to search in the hope of meeting yours, or not. Instead, you focus on the newcomer. 

Millie is tiny, that’s for sure. She makes you feel like a city-destroying giant in this proximity, but unlike with most other women, your insecurity from being around her stops at the height difference. While there are probably a hundred differences between you, many of which can be spotted with a single look, you find comfort in one confirmed similarity: her shape. 

Her chest is heavy. She’s full in the hips and thick in the thighs, and when she’s perched on Rooster’s lap, a couple of rolls form where her tummy is. Rolls that she doesn’t care are obvious through her snug shirt. Rolls that don’t stop Rooster from running his hands over her body, fingers occasionally drifting to dangerous areas when he thinks no one else is watching. Most people aren’t watching. You are. 

Whenever a couple like them is shoved in your face, you picture loads of things that you probably shouldn’t be picturing considering this couple in particular could be in your life for a while. But you can’t help it. You picture them together, wrapped around one another, Rooster holding Millie close, sucking on her full breasts, kissing her stretch-marked skin, burying his head between thighs he would gladly permit to suffocate him. There are smiles and giggles and genuine moans of pleasure. You picture love meeting sex.

To your defense, it isn’t about Rooster or Millie. When you picture these scenarios, the people themselves lose their meaning to you, if they ever had meaning at all. They become Perfect Man and Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who falls on his knees for Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who worships Imperfect Woman despite her imperfections. Every duo like Rooster and Millie you’ve come across in your stopping points around the country worms their way into your daydreams. You’ve never quite had the Perfect/Imperfect couple so close, though, and as much as you try to ignore it, it plants a seed of hope.  

“He didn’t want to bother you if you wanted a second to be alone,” Millie says to your shock, because since when doesn’t Jake Seresin squeeze himself into your space uninvited? That’s shown to be one of his top ten skills. 

“Were you sent over?”

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’. “I just happen to enjoy your company. You, me, and Penny gotta stick together. We’re the only gals in this crew who don’t get to fly without a chaperone.” Her head quirks to the side. “Well, there’s Payback’s girl as well. They’re overseas for a few more months—Fanboy, too.”

Jake mentioned them. Another set of best friends whose seats at this family table could not be occupied by outsiders. 

Millie leans back on her palms, tucking her toes into the sand. “I know they can be overwhelmin’,” she says. “They’re loud—well, with the exception of Bobby—and they’re all annoyingly attractive, right?”

Especially annoying is one particular pilot. 

“I never thought in a million years a guy like Bradley would develop a thing for me.”

“How’d you meet him?” you ask Millie, who instantly grins at the memory.

“I've got an uncle in the Navy,” she says, and if you closed your eyes, her southern accent would take you right to Alabama. You didn’t do well in Alabama. But Millie is far from a representation of the population you’d found yourself within. “Came to visit for the summer, met Bradley, and that was that.”

“You never went back home?”

She lets out a laugh that almost has her rolling onto her side. “Oh no, Honey, I did,” she finally gets out. “But I gave that dope my phone number. He kept callin’ and textin’. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to come back.” 

Giving her an amused look at the image of that burly pilot a few yards away being so desperate, Millie giggles and pats your knee. 

“I know, what a creep. But he won me over before I left, so I was lenient,” she says. “We spent more time together, and when he asked me to be his girl and move in with him, I said yes. Actually, I got here not long before you arrived.”

You take a moment to think over what she’s shared over the course of the night. Millie is young, at least a decade separating her and her boyfriend, and, from what you understand after her earlier telling of her story for you, she had a whole life on the other side of the country. A mother, a grandmother, a brother, a father who is less than thrilled his baby girl lives with a man much older than herself. A job lined up at her family’s small business. A good country boy everyone expected her to start dating soon. Yet, it appears with no reservations, she picked up, left her family, her business, and that country boy to settle in with Rooster. 

You can’t help but question what it would take for you to pick a place and stay in it. Neither can you remember the last town you lived in for more than four months. 

“Do you like it here?” you ask.

“Oh, it's lovely. Different, absolutely. But it’s not about here,” she shakes her head. “It’s about him. I’ll go where he goes.” Turning her head, she looks back to the group and smiles. A blush spreads across her cheeks from whatever charming, flirty gesture you guarantee Rooster just directed her way. “Datin’ a pilot,” she continues, her gaze back on the ocean, “is certainly…somethin’. It’s got its challenges, for sure, but Bradley is worth it.”

You nod because, on a level, you understand. Rooster is as kind as he is good-looking, and it takes about three breaths in their presence to see that he’s head over heels in love with his girlfriend. He’s gentle with her in a way you’ve never known—sweet—and when he looks at her, you see in his eyes that he is looking at his future. His wife. The mother of his children. Whether she knows of his plans or not, it makes sense that she stays by his side. No one with their head on straight would let that go if they could get away with it. 

“Jake’s a good guy, ya know,” Millie suddenly states, her honey-toned eyes meeting the plane of your profile. “He’d be worth it, too.”

Eyes widening, your head snaps to her so fast you feel a muscle tweak in your neck. 

She smiles softly, almost motherly though she’s younger than you, then she stands and dusts the sand off the back of her cutoffs. “Just somethin’ to think about, Honey,” she says. “I’ll let him know you’re alright.”

With Millie gone, you take extra minutes to collect yourself; take your deep breaths and try to wrap your head around her words. You’re not so sure you can. They’re as hard to push aside as the words and names directed at you in the past—the reasons you abandoned the places you’ve been to end up here. But for the first time, you don’t taste that sourness on your tongue or feel the swell and ache of nausea in your gut. There’s a wiggliness to your nerves from anxiety, but they accompany an intense pounding of your heart you’ve not experienced in so long you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. 

Standing, you brush away the sand that had snuck its way into the folds of your clothes and you turn. At some point, Jake switched seats with Bradley for the one that faces the ocean, faces you, and your stare instantly meets his. 

His knee is bouncing. He gives you a smile laced with concern, but it has enough power behind it to encourage you closer. So you step forward, one foot before the other until you see the movement of a bobbing head in your peripherals. Breaking your connected stare, your eyes flick to the right of Jake’s head and onto a figure in the distance.

And much like that mug from this morning, you think you know this figure. 

---

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[daycourtofficial]

Hickeys and The Marks We Leave

Summary: You and Cassian have been sneaking around for a year now, keeping your relationship hidden. You’re tired of hiding, but Cassian doesn’t want to tell everyone yet, so when his brothers accidentally see some hickeys you left on him, you want to tell everyone, but he doesn’t.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Hickeys by @lalacliffthorne so I highly suggest reading that as well!!

Cassian didn’t think anything of the delightful morning sex the two of you had before he had to go to training. Despite keeping your relationship a secret, it was really easy to find ways into each other’s rooms throughout the day and night. A rigorous training schedule was one of the reasons you two slept in Cassian’s bed every night - you could slip out easily while him and Azriel were at training.

Cassian had, to his misfortune, cleaned the scent of you off of him, as he did every morning the two of you had sex before his training. He wasn’t ready to tell his brothers he was seeing someone, especially not that it was you. His brothers adored you, Mor and Feyre adored you, even Amren was somewhat fond of you.

The problem is once he tells them, it becomes very real. And once it becomes very real, he could mess it all up. Cassian was in love with you, no doubt about it, and you were in love with him. But Cassian was always afraid, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for something to go wrong.

His thoughts whirled and swirled, consumed by you, which is how Gwyn’s voice catches him by surprise as she shrieks, “Cassian is that a hickey?”

Cassian stops stretching, looking down at his bare torso, finding a trail of hickeys down his chest that extend into his pants. He looks back up to see all of the valkyries and Azriel looking at him.

He thinks quickly, “I fell coming up here.”

They’ll buy that, right?

“This one has teeth marks,” Azriel says, pointing to one close to his belly button. He swats his brothers hand away, “besides you have no marks anywhere else, unless you want to drop your pants to prove they don’t go further down.”

Cassian was going to murder his brother in front of these priestesses, he just knew it.

Fuck, he thinks, Azriel never lets any information go. If he suspects anything serious, he’ll follow Cassian around for months, years even to figure it out.

Damn you and your beautiful mouth.

“Fine, I saw someone last night, happy?”

Azriel keeps his stare on Cassian’s face, “then they would have healed by now, or at least be more healed. These are fresh bruises, probably an hour or two old.”

“Okay, fine, I stayed with someone last night and we had sex again this morning. Now, let’s get back to work.”

Azriel let it go, but Cassian could see in his eyes all the lingering questions he has.

-

Cassian returns to his room in desperate need of a shower, only to find you still in bed asleep. He sits on the bed next to you, and kisses you nice and slow, waking you.

“Mm, morning Cass,” you drawl sleepily.

“Ah, good morning my little vixen. While you were sleeping here all nice and peacefully, I was getting grilled by my nosy brother for the beautiful trail of hickeys you left down my chest.”

You freeze, not realizing you were going to leave a mark on him. “I’m sorry Cass, really I am. But maybe this is an opportunity to tell them about us?”

He huffs, “we’ve talked about this, no. I’m not ready to tell them.” He gets up off the bed, heading towards the bathroom.

“Oh so it’s just ‘no’ and that’s it? I don’t get a say?” You reply, sitting up straighter in the bed.

“Not when it comes to my brothers you don’t.” He starts angrily looking around the room for fresh clothes.

“Your brothers? They’re also my friends? Anyway so what? We’ll never tell them?”

“We’ll tell them. Eventually.”

“Eventually? Cassian it’s been a year. What are you waiting for?”

“To feel ready,” he replies, wanting this argument to be over.

“What if you never feel ready to tell them?”

“Then they won’t know.”

“Cassian I’m starting to think the reason you won’t tell them is because you’re ashamed of me.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, standing stock still in the doorway to the bathroom, seemling confirming your deepest fear. This secret relationship was fun, yes, but you were always afraid he was either ashamed of you or that he didn’t see a future worth telling his brothers about.

“Well then, I guess there’s nothing for Azriel to find out then. If you’re so ashamed of me, you’ll be glad to be rid of me.” You reply curtly, storming out of his room, not letting him get another word in.

-

You’d been avoiding Cassian for three days since your fight. He hated what he said and what he didn’t say as soon as you had left, but he wanted to give you space to cool off so you could talk like reasonable adults. Except you’ve decided to not be a reasonable adult by avoiding him at all costs.

If it didn’t piss him off so much he’d be incredibly impressed. His family has still seen you, you haven’t completely dropped off the face of the planet. But you haven’t been in the same room as Cassian since your fight. He’s hardly caught your scent, but he knows you’re around.

“What’s wrong Cassian?” Rhys asks, Cassian’s distress the past few days impossible for him to hide or cover up.

Cassian sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “I think (y/n)’s avoiding me, I haven’t seen her in days.”

Rhys has a ghost of a smirk cross his face before it turns into concern. “And why do you think she’s avoiding you?”

“We got into a fight and I said some things I shouldn’t have and I haven’t seen her since.”

“And when was the fight?” Rhys asks.

“Three days ago,” Cassian responds.

“So the same day we teased you over your hickeys at training.”

Despite having known Azriel for hundreds of years, he has always been able to sneak up on Cassian.

Cassian turns to the shadowsinger, grinding his teeth, “it might have been the same day.”

“Curious,” Azriel says, not even looking at Cassian. Cassian knows Azriel’s figured it out, he has the look on his face he gets during interrogations when he’s waiting for his prey to tell him what he’s already figured out.

The three of them stand in silence while Cassian weighs his options.

“Okay fine, we’ve been together for a year now and she was tired of hiding it and wanted us to be public about our relationship but I kept telling her I wasn’t ready. The hickeys were an accident, but I blew up on her over it and she might have insinuated I was hiding our relationship because I was ashamed of her. I didn’t deny it and she ran out before I could say anything.”

Cassian puts his head in his hands, trying to bury the shame he feels for how he handled things.

“A whole year?” Rhys asks.

“Yeah, things started happening around solstice last year.”

“I didn’t realize you guys had been sneaking around that long,” Azriel states.

Cassian snaps his head up at his brother, “you knew?”

“Of course we knew,” Rhys responds, “she hasn’t slept in her room in months. The maids complained to me that she doesn’t have to make her bed every morning. And I know she hates no task more than making a bed.

So I figured she was seeing someone and sneaking back in. I had Azriel figure it out. His shadows caught you two taking a bath together.”

“Well,” Cassian sighs, “there are much worse things they could have caught us doing.”

Cassian’s laugh dies as Azriel turns to him and asks, “Are you ashamed of her?”

The look on Azriel’s face reminds Cassian that while Azriel was his brother, he was also incredibly fond of you. Both his brothers were, they both loved you dearly, but Azriel especially.

“No, I’m not. I’m an idiot because as soon as she said it I couldn’t believe it! Me? Ashamed of her? She’s the best thing in my life, how could I be ashamed of her?”

Azriel backs down a little, his temper satiated by Cassian’s admission. “Then why keep it hidden?”

“Because if I told you two, it would become real. And I could fuck it up if it’s real. If it’s hidden, it’s our secret. It’s fun. But telling all of you makes it real. And when it’s real, the stakes are higher.

“I’ve had my heart broken before, I’ve survived it. But I couldn’t survive if we became real and it ended.”

Cassian’s silence hung in the air until he felt Rhys’s arms pull him into a hug.

“But what if it doesn’t end, brother?” Rhys loosens his hold on Cassian as Azriel chimes in.

“Whether or not you tell us, it was clearly real. And you really hurt her. Fix it,” he says, before walking out of the room.

Cassian and Rhys watch him walk out, confusion coating Cassian’s face.

“Ah, he’ll come around. He’s just upset he didn’t figure it out without my prodding. And the fact he views her like a little sister.

“No doubt he’ll kick your ass in training tomorrow, especially if you don’t fix things.”

-

That night, after you skipped family dinner, Cassian decided to go straight to your room. You answered the door, wearing one of his shirts, clearly upset.

“Hi,” you squeak, knowing he’d come around eventually to come talk to you, maybe even take his shirts you had stolen back.

“Can I come in?” He asks, a look of sadness on his face. You open the door, allowing him entry and he closes it softly behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, having to get the words he had rehearsed out as quickly as possible, afraid you’d shut him out again. “I’m not ashamed of you. I was terrified if I told anyone it meant this would become real and I could mess it up, but I messed it up anyway.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Cassian cuts you off. “I love you, and Rhys and Azriel know, which means Feyre probably knows, which means everyone likely knows. I don’t care who knows anymore if it means I can have you. If you’ll have me back.”

The past few days of ignoring Cassian were torture. You were in love with him, but he was also your best friend. Being mad at him felt awful, but feeling like he was ashamed of you was worse.

His confession makes you soften, reaching your hand out to his. “So you’re not ashamed of me?”

He clasps your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “Absolutely not. I didn’t respond because it took me off guard,” he looks into your eyes, reaching up to cup your face, “I could never be ashamed of you. I’m sorry you thought I was. I just couldn’t believe you would think that.

“I’ll shout from every rooftop in Velaris that I’m in love with you if you’ll have me.”

His gaze was piercing, an intensity you’ve hardly seen from him. You smile at him, reaching to touch his cheek, “can I pick the first rooftop?”

Cassian snorts, “what do you say? Will you let me grovel for you to take me back?”

You smile, pressing against him, “I’ll allow it.”

[beastofburdenxo]

Hypothermia

Emmett shares a bed with you on a particularly cold night. 1.6k words Tags: dry humping, wet dreams, reader is a virgin.

Emmett promised your parents that he would take care of you if anything happened to them. Not realizing that, not long after he promised them that the creatures would come. Sadly, neither survived and you were stuck with Emmett. Nothing against him of course, he was an alright guy. He was a family friend; someone you saw all the time at the house on the weekends. He was quiet, reserved, resourceful. Emmett also lost his family not long after yours so you two were all each other had. You two toughed it out together, he taught you how to hunt. He taught you which plants were edible, and which were not. You taught him how to patch up his clothes when needed. The both of you were a team, working together to stay alive.  

Instead of moving out and going to college, you moved what little belongings you could to an old factory on the outskirts of town with Emmett. He found it on a supply run without you and thought it best to move away and stay hidden from the creatures. Besides, there wasn’t much left to salvage anyways, what you two haven’t already scavenged to use was in disrepair and too time consuming to try and fix. Emmett was a bit of a loner anyways, so moving away from the few remaining living souls didn’t bother him a bit. Not you though, you didn’t like the idea of leaving the only home you ever knew. But you went ahead and did anyways, because you knew you couldn’t make it without him. You two made the basement of the old factory your home, considering it was almost soundproof. Emmett brought down a mattress he found in an empty house to sleep on, not realizing it was going to be a tight fit for both of you. During the summer, he refused the makeshift bed, insisting you take it. He crafted a pallet out of old covers and towels that he slept on next to yours.  

One particularly cold winter night, you lie in bed, feeling your fingers and toes start to turn blue. Every piece of clothing you own is on your body on top of what little covers you have, but it’s still not enough. With teeth chattering, you look over at Emmett’s still figure wondering if he’s about to go into hypothermia as well. “Emmett,” you whisper in the dark, “Are you sleeping? It's so cold in here my body hurts.” Emmett turns towards you, “No, I can’t sleep either. It's an awfully bad night tonight. Would you like some of my covers?” A shiver runs through your body as you try to still your chattering teeth. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it here Emmett, we both need body heat or we’re not going to survive the night. Will you come closer?” A long pause sits in the air before you get an answer. “Are you asking me to get in bed with you? You trying to cuddle?” he asks with a chuckle. “This is serious, if you don’t get over here, we’re both going to freeze to death. It's not like I have anyone else to choose from. I'll behave, I’m just trying to not die tonight.”  

You feel a bit more weight on you as Emmett takes the covers off his pallet and throws it on yours. Before you can plead with him, he lies down beside you. “Alright, here I am, now go to sleep.” It is a tight fit with him beside you, both being on your backs, so you turn to the side away from him to make room. The heat radiating off Emmett’s body helps, but it’s not enough to knock the chill off your body. You try and scoot closer to him, much to his dismay. “Just what do you think you're doing? You wanted me here, so here I am. What more do you want?” You start to feel him move away. “No please don’t go.” you whine, “I’m just so cold and I know you are too. Please come here. Wrap your arm around me Emmett.” With a sigh he replies, “Only because it feels below zero tonight. Don't get any ideas here.” He pulls you closer to him, his body heat enveloping you. He has both of his strong arms around your waist as the two of you stop shivering. “Now was that so bad?” you ask. You get a scoff in response. You feel him move around. “What are you doing? I can’t sleep with you thrashing!”  

“I’m taking my shirt off.” Your eyes get big at his words. “Why in the hell are you doing that?” Emmett sighs, “Did I teach you anything? Survival 101, skin on skin contact is the best against hypothermia. It's dark and neither of us can see the other, so just do it.” With a gulp you shakily remove your shirt, goosebumps hitting your skin at the thought of being next to him in your bra. This is all new to you and you’re trying to remain calm and adult like about it. “My pants too?” you nervously ask. Emmett’s strong arms go back to being around you. “That’s up to you. Considering the layers are thin, I think we’ll be fine like this. Now let's get some sleep.” He was right about the skin-on-skin contact, it was almost too warm now. You were able to feel his broad chest directly on your back, his light coating of chest hair tickling your skin. Part of you wanted to turn around and face him, but you didn’t want him to leave either, so you stayed where you were. Your little heart was pounding, you’ve never had a man be this physically close to you, much less Emmett. You hoped he was too far gone in sleep to notice. “Just breathe, you know Emmett, he wouldn’t hurt you.” you tell yourself over and over until your breathing finally slows and sleep takes you in its hold.  

In the middle of the night, you awaken to Emmett still holding you to him. But this time, something is different. One arm is still around you, the other is next to you, his hand squeezing your hip. Something is also digging into your back. You move slightly trying to get comfortable, and Emmett softly moans. You realize what it is, Emmett is hard in his sleep. Trying not to panic and wake him up, you wonder what to do now. If he wakes, he’ll freak out at the situation and possibly get mad, so you just lie there for a bit. “It’s not like he did it on purpose, he’s dead asleep!” you think to yourself, “He has no control over his body, it’ll go away, just chill out!” at that moment, Emmett slightly moves, pulling you even closer to him, his dick even more prominent to you now. The hand on your hip now slowly strokes your side. His breath is still slow and labored, he’s still out cold. Emmett slowly starts to grind against you, the friction pulling down your loose pants, exposing your ass to him. His face is buried in your shoulder, panting heavy at his motions. You try to reach behind you to pull your pants back up, but there’s no room between you two, and you wind up touching his toned stomach instead. You freeze as a whine leaves his mouth, thinking you woke him up.  

Luckily for you, he’s a heavy sleeper and he goes back to dry humping you as you take your hand back. You must admit, it doesn’t feel terrible. “Do I just lie here and let him grind on me?” You like hearing his moans too, but you’d never admit that. You wish you could see the look on his face right now, but not daring to turn. His hand comes up and cups your breast through your bra, softly squeezing. “Yes,” he breathes into your ear, “Yes baby like that.” You close your eyes and pretend that he means that, that he knows it’s you and he really wants you; not pretending that you’re someone else. You softly place your hand on top of Emmett’s, not brave enough to do much else. “Babygirl, yes, right there, please.” That causes a moan to come out of your own mouth. Goosebumps return to your skin, but for another reason. Nerves be damned, you can’t take much more. You take the hand on your bra and slowly guide it downwards, reveling in his rough hand on your body and how good it feels. Reaching your soaked panties you wonder, “Am I seriously about to do this? Am I going to take advantage of a man that has been nothing but good and kind to me?”  

Before you can answer yourself, Emmett moves again. His bodyweight on yours makes you turn over on your stomach. He is directly on top of you now. With your legs slightly more open than before, you can feel him right where you want him. Now Emmett is just rutting against you without abandon, each motion moving your panties against your clit. It takes all you have in you to not answer his moans with your own. Right before you feel like you could come for the first time ever, he growls your name as you feel hot liquid seep onto your panties. Emmett slows, his high receding, softly panting as he moves off you, flopping onto his back. Your mind is reeling, “Did he just say my name as he came? Did I hear that right?” You slowly look over at him, for some reason expecting him to finally be awake after all that. But his breathing is the same as earlier, slow and soft in dreamland. “Well at least he’ll sleep good tonight, I sure as hell won’t.” You curl back up, parts of you demanding more attention after being rudely interrupted. It was a long night for you indeed.

[joelismiller]

misunderstanding

joel miller x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.0k

Summary: you liked joel and you really thought he liked you back.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (joel is in his fifties and reader is in her late twenties), angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), jealousy, protective!joel, violence if you squint, no use of y/n

A/N: hi everyone my name is ariel and this is my first post ! I have never written for joel before and i have never written smut so please go easy on me and enjoy ! <3 (oh also i completely made up the currency idk how that works😭)

It hurts, you think. 

Having an attachment to a man who has seemed to lose the ability to comprehend on an emotional level how to form one.

An exception of course made for one goofy teenager named Ellie Williams, which you can’t blame him for—she is an easy kid to love. 

You however still can’t help but feel a little envious of the fourteen-year-old even if it is a silly kind of jealousy. You just wish you could be close to him—know him like no one else does or has. 

It started 6 months ago: you had been living in Jackson for a whole year after braving the world overtaken by Cordyceps alone.

Tommy and a group of other people on patrol found you near the edge of town looking right about to just give up and keel over and allow fate to take over and decide if you should live or die from that point.

After making sure you were not infected, Tommy scooped you up and managed to get you back to town where Maria agreed to help nurse you back to health and eventually make you an official resident of Jackson. 

You were given a house close to Tommy and Maria’s and they gave you a job at the local clothing shop of sorts; really just a place to trade or purchase clothing, bootlaces, etc. You began to not just live, but enjoy living—a fate you never thought you would be able to see for yourself after the events of the last twenty years.

It was more or less a life of routine and monotony, but it was more of a life you had before which is what made it special. 

Then Joel Miller came in and ruined all of that.

 Six months ago he rode into town with his little brunette companion for a second time after briefly visiting a while before. He walked up to Tommy and gave him a firm hug while confirming your hope that he indeed would be making himself a permanent member of the Jackson community.

His house with Ellie was only a few blocks away which allowed for you to wake up a little early to see him leave on his way to patrol. 

Now the interaction that started your infatuation with the grumpy old man was nothing too special; at least probably to the man himself. However, to you, it made a very old and foreign feeling form in your gut.

Butterflies erupted just at the sight of Joel Miller’s beautiful brown eyes that, depending on the light, either shined a light honey-brown, or dark and rich, like the coffee beans you used to brew your coffee that morning.

His hair reflected his age—a fluffy mess of brown with graying streaks and a patchy beard to match.

And his broad shoulders and strong looking arms made it so you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up by him—consumed by him.  

He looked awkward, you think, as he stood inside your shop looking around wordlessly. You decided to step out from behind the counter where you were going over some previous numbers for inventory to help the handsome man get what he came for. 

“Hi there, can I help you look for anything specific?” you asked as you approached him slowly from across the room. 

“Hi, um, I was just lookin' for a thicker coat than the one I already have—‘just got my first pay from patrolling.” He muttered, continuing to search the many tables and walls littered with all sorts of clothing items.

 “Oh okay, for sure! If you just follow me they’re right over here.”

 You began to lead him to a rack near the register which had a small assortment of heavy winter jackets. You were constantly selling out of them since Jackson was always cold no matter the season which is why there wasn’t a lot to choose from. 

He took a look at the jackets and gave you a nod, “Thank you, um…” Joel trailed off as you breathlessly laughed and told him your name.

He repeated your name trying it out on his tongue; making you wish for nothing more than to hear him say it in his Southern drawl over and over and over-

“I’m Joel,” he stated simply and you gave him a smile and nod of your head, pretending like you hadn’t already done a bit of digging to find out the handsome newcomer’s name a couple months ago when he first visited. 

“Well Joel, if you need anything I'll be back behind the register.”

You pointed over to the table with a broken old register that worked just well enough to store the currency the town came up with so there was an extra curtain of civilization despite the events that were anything but that.

You thought it was kind of stupid, but it worked and made people happy so who were you to say otherwise? 

He nodded to let you know he heard you as you went back to your previous position: pretending the whole time you weren’t shamelessly ogling the rugged, big, Southern man mindlessly looking through the jackets.

He eventually settled on a nice tan one with flannel material on the inside lining with white fleece on the collar and cuffs.

You quickly looked back down to the inventory papers so you wouldn’t be caught staring when you heard his heavy footsteps approach the counter. 

“I’ll take this one,” he grunted as he began to gather up some coins to give you in exchange for the warm, heavy jacket.

You quickly pushed his hand away to alert him that it wasn’t necessary, “You're new here right Joel?” You asked as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow and shook his head in agreement.

 “Right, then consider it a welcoming gift—free of charge.” 

You gave him a bright smile as he furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head causing you to see the honey sparkle in his brown eyes under the bright store light. 

“Ya sure? Jacket doesn’t look cheap,” Joel muttered, his gaze flickering to his boots. 

“A hundred percent! You’re new and patrolling isn’t an easy job, accept it as a thank you for keeping us safe if anything,” you told him shyly, the smile never leaving your face. 

He chuckled softly and nodded his head. 

“Okay darlin’, well, thank you—much appreciated.” 

You whispered a soft ‘yeah’ as his eyes looked over you, causing a burning feeling to spread throughout your whole body as if you were being branded. He gave you one last nod of his head as he began to turn around and leave the store.

Not to your surprise, an empty feeling immediately filled you in the presence of his absence.

You whispered to yourself to pull yourself together—that you’ve only met him once and that his effect on you should not be this intense.

It didn’t help however as every interaction after that caused your feelings for the large stand-offish man to only grow. 

Whether it was a quick acknowledgement of each other when you happened to eat in the dining hall at the same time, or a wave of a hand when you left your houses at the same time in the morning as he headed to patrol and you headed to the store.

But your favorite interactions were when he would come into the store to maybe get a couple of new shirts for Ellie, or some new socks for himself.

Over time you felt him grow more comfortable around you as you did him. He would tell you about Ellie’s latest antics; swearing that the teen girl was trying to ‘send an old man to an early grave.’

You would giggle and tell him that he wasn’t that old and that Ellie was just a teen girl finally in a safe somewhat normal place where she can go to school and make actual friends. 

“About that, I think I might needa talk with her teacher soon—she’s been missin too much school and heading off god knows where,” Joel confessed to you, a frown overtaking his aged features as his worry about his adopted daughter showed clear all over his face.

You shyly grabbed his hand across the register and gave it a small squeeze.

“Try not to worry about her too much Joel. She’s young and she didn’t get to have a normal childhood—It's only normal that school probably doesn’t matter too much to her after everything,” you explained hoping that your words may ease him a bit. 

He didn’t respond right away, instead looking at where your much softer hand overlapped his bigger, calloused ones. An unreadable look came over his face before he gently took his hand away from yours and looked to the ground. 

“Yeah you’re probably right,” he responded in that low tone of his as he slowly began to back up. 

“I gotta go check and see if she made it home okay. It was nice seein ya.” 

You barely were able to say another word, maybe apologize for touching his hand in such a careless way before his heavy boots were already heading out the door; the little bell ringing a hollow sound in your ears.

After that, you began to see less and less of Joel and it hurt to admit that it slowly felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

You hated yourself for thinking that all your interactions meant something to him; that when he started to come to the store, not even leaving with anything but a conversation with you, that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you felt for him.

Every time you even attempted waving at him in the morning when you both left—he just grunted and looked the other way—pretending like you weren’t even there. 

The store was for some reason busier than usual today and you closed up feeling drained and ready to sleep. The long shift accompanied by the hollow feeling in your heart Joel had left caused you to want nothing more than to curl up and forget all the pain in nicer dreams where things were better between you, things were different.

Joel would hold your hand in your dream and walk you to work, leaving a kiss on your cheek and a whisper of having a good day as you giggled and kissed him right back—whispering the same sentiments. 

You were shaken out of your daydream on your walk home when you spotted the very man at the center of all your thoughts on the porch of someone's house, a woman’s house.

She was gorgeous with long, blonde hair framing her face perfectly, while she looked up at Joel with gorgeous, crystal, blue eyes. She looked older than you too, maybe even closer to Joel’s age.

They laughed about something before she was leading him inside her house as he followed suit; the door shutting in a finality behind them. 

You felt a mix of jealousy and an even greater sadness than before filling your belly as you continued what felt like the longest walk home in your life.

As soon as the door closed you slid down the old wood as tears and sobs that you couldn’t stop wracked your body.

You just didn’t understand; what changed, what did you do to make him start avoiding you?

And you knew how hard it was for Joel to come out of his shell, so why did it seem so easy for him to talk and laugh with that woman? 

After what seemed like hours, you finally picked yourself off of the ground and trudged slowly to your bed where you collapsed immediately upon impact with the old tattered sheets.

Instead of the usual happy dreams about Joel, tonight you were plagued with endless nightmares of him and the mysterious blonde woman; standing in the place you usually would in your dreams about Joel.

You woke up in the morning with a feeling of restlessness as you readied yourself for another long day of work.

After work that night you decided to go to the Tipsy Bison which was Jackson’s bar that you would usually frequent when your nightmares from the time you were on your own came back to haunt you.

Mindless images of a group of clicker’s taking from you the only person you had left in your life since the virus took over: your best friend.

After she was gone it was just you, and that period never seemed to completely leave your mind even after a year in Jackson. 

After last night’s sleep, you definitely needed a drink you thought to yourself as you made your way over. When you entered you saw that it was a pretty busy night for the Tipsy Bison as you did your best to find a seat towards the end of the bar. 

Once you took a seat, you gave the bartender your drink order and surveyed the area to see who else was here as you waited for him to deliver your alcohol of choice. Your breathing stopped and your eyes widened when you noticed a familiar group of people at a table closer to the front of the bar. 

There in all his ruggish, handsome glory was Joel Miller, smiling widely as he talked with Tommy, Maria, and her.

You quickly swung back around to face where your drink was just set in front of you as you begged the burn in the back of your eyes to go away.

Fuck this, you thought as you downed most of the drink in one go, using your hand to wipe away the bit that escaped at the corner of your lips.

You did your best to ignore the person that was at the center of all your sadness; drinking and drinking until you felt a familiar buzz kick in and begin to cloud your thoughts. 

Right when you were about to order another drink, a skinny, tall, blonde boy walked over to where you were seated and said it was on him as he handed over a couple of coins. 

“You didn’t have to do that but thanks, I guess,” you muttered, hoping your disinterest was a sign that you wanted to be left alone.

He smiled wide in a way that caused you to shiver, and not in a pleasurable way like when Joel would grace you with the corner of his lip twitching up, releasing a breathless laugh; but in a bad, unnerving way. 

“Anything for a girl as pretty as you.” 

He winked which caused you to roll your eyes and once again look away from him. “I’m not interested but again, thank you,” you told him with a finality in your voice that the man—no—boy, didn’t take very seriously. 

“Aw come on don’t be like that I just wanna have some fun with you,” he said in a sleazy manner as he reached out to grip your shoulder. 

You quickly shook him off but in your drunken haze, you accidentally fell off your chair onto the ground—single-handedly causing the whole bar’s eyes to turn onto you. 

“Godammit, now you're just causing a fucking scene,” the man snarled at you, causing tears to form behind your eyes as this man's actions as well as having the entire bar watching the now-forming scene. 

And if the night couldn’t get any worse, you hear the familiar sound of boots coming up behind the man and it takes just one glance to confirm your suspicions. 

“What did you just say to her?” 

You heard a deep voice growl out, a look of pure rage overtaking Joel’s features as he stood right in front of the blonde boy’s face. 

“Look man I didn’t know she was taken, I was just tryna have a good time, you know?” 

An animalistic sound leaves Joel’s mouth before he takes the boy’s arm and forcefully grabs it until he's facing the bar counter and his arm is pressed deep into his back. 

“It don’t matter whether she’s taken or not, you never treat a woman like that,” he snarls into the shaking boy’s ear. 

“I never wanna see you come near her again, you hear me?” 

He shakes his head wildly until Joel finally releases him and he scatters out of the bar. The anger on Joel’s face morphs into one of concern as he gently stretches out a hand to help you up. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He questions softly as you bat his hand away and attempt to stand on your own. 

“M’ fine,” you mutter as you stand on shaky legs—about to fall over when Joel rests his big hands on your shoulders to steady you. He chuckles and curls an arm around your waist as he begins to slowly lead you out the door. 

“You sure darlin’? Cause’ you seem a lil drunk to me,” Joel says amused at your hindered state while you frown up at him. 

“Don’t you have to go back to your girlfriend,” you huff out, avoiding looking at the grumpy man’s features. 

“Girlfriend?” He responds confused, not understanding what you were talking about until he catches your eyes drifting to Veronica’s face—Ellie’s teacher. 

After the day he left abruptly from your store, he sought out Ellie’s teacher Veronica. They have been having weekly meetings about how Ellie was doing in school as well as her continuous efforts to ditch class.

There was absolutely nothing romantic about it, the whole ordeal gave him a headache—a subject he was too old to be stressing about.

Besides, how could he dare think about anyone else when you had him wrapped around your little finger? 

When he first saw you at your clothing store and you gave him his jacket for free, he knew you would be trouble.

And trouble you were as he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to visit you just to see you and hear your comforting voice promise him that all his worries about his adopted daughter were normal.

It was actually your idea that maybe he should at some point meet with Ellie’s teacher. But when your small hand wrapped around his he got scared— scared this could become something real.

Everyone he has ever gotten attached to he’s lost and he already accidentally went and got attached to Ellie, he didn't know if he had it in him to do it to another person. 

And on top of that, he was a bad man, he had done horrible things. You were also so much younger and prettier than him—a sweet, soft thing Joel didn’t feel he deserved.

But looking at your heartbroken face now as you looked back at him and then at Veronica, he knew he messed up. He should have never started avoiding you.

It was never the answer, but Joel had never been good at feelings, this much is evident. 

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.”

The walk back from the Tipsy Bison to your house was a pretty close one, your hose only being about five minutes away.

Once you were at your door with a Joel who did not take “leave me alone” as an answer, you struggled to get the key in the lock in your drunken stupor which the large man beside you thankfully helped with. 

“Let me do that, sweetheart,” he muttered as his big warm hands covered yours and twisted the key, letting the both of you inside. 

“Joel, I don't feel so good…” you said shakily as Joel uttered a “shit” and quickly hurried you to the bathroom which he found pretty quickly—his hands quickly opening the toilet seat and finding purchase in your hair as he held it back, allowing you to empty the contents of your stomach. 

“Joel I’m so sorry,” you groaned as a tear fell down your cheek; your sadness, tiredness, and embarrassment flooded in all at once with help from the lingering alcohol in your system.

He shushed you softly and cradled you to his chest taking a second to rock you until your tears stopped and you felt well enough to stand. 

“How bout’ you brush your teeth and get your pajamas on—I’ll make you some tea then we’ll talk, yeah?” 

You nodded as he gently brushed your cheek with his thumb causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach as he made his way to your kitchen to attempt to find the ingredients and mug he needed.

You cleaned yourself up: showered, brushed your teeth, and put on sleepwear which helped you come back to a clearer state of mind allowing confusion to overtake you. 

Why was Joel here taking care of you, wouldn’t his girlfriend begin to ask questions? 

You weren’t allowed to keep worrying yourself with your thoughts as a knock on your bedroom door brought you back to reality. 

“May I come in? Made ya tea,” Joel’s voice rang out into your room softly as you muttered a quiet, “Sure.” 

Joel stepped into the room and handed you the mug which you took a generous sip of—the honeyed flavor soothing your throat and stomach. 

“Thank you so much, Joel, for walking me home and taking care of me. I’m so sorry-” 

“Don’t go apologizing darlin’ you have done nothin’ to have to apologize for,” Joel interrupted sending you a soft smile as he went to pick up your hand laying on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the smooth skin.

In a reversal of roles, it was your turn to pull your hand away as Joel frowned and you looked to the floor; he should have expected that after everything that’s happened. 

“I guess I deserve that,” he chuckles sadly as your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Well you have a girlfriend and I bet it would make her uncomfortable if she knew you were holding my hand, Joel.” 

Joel couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped him at your words which completely stopped when he saw your features form into one of anger. 

“Why is that so funny? That’s why you stopped visiting and talking to me right? Because you found someone else.” 

You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitterly or as venomously as you said it but you couldn’t help it. You have spent weeks suffering over his actions towards you and now he helps you home, takes care of you, holds your hand like nothing happened? 

“M’ sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was laughing at you. It’s just that…” He trails off collecting himself. Joel sighs out your name and begins to tell you that Veronica is not his girlfriend and that she was just Ellie’s teacher.

He explains to you all about their meetings and that tonight was just him getting her a drink to thank her for all her help. 

“I promise you darlin’ it wasn’t anythin’ more than that—don’t feel that way about her at all.” 

You process all the information Joel just unloaded on you; and though you do feel relief, you still feel irritation and sadness as his complete throwing away of your friendship—abandoning you without a word. You tell him as much as he releases another sigh and looks down toward the wooden floor. 

“Look, m’ not really good at this…” Joel starts, eyes flickering up to your face as he continues. 

“But coming into the shop and talkin’ to you started becoming the best parts of my day, sweetheart,” he pauses to give you a look of sincerity and to try holding your hand again—and this time— you let him.

“And I was just downright a coward and instead of facing my feelings I shut you out completely and I feel so fucking awful darlin’ I’m so sorry.” He whispers, tightening his grip on your hand.  

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I'm hoping you can forgive me and that maybe we can try to be somethin. I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it and I’m so much older than you, but-” 

You cut Joel’s rambling off by pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. You begin to pull away when you don’t feel him kissing back, but he doesn’t give you a chance as he cups your head in a big hand and begins to kiss back with more fervor. 

“Joel,” you whimper as he begins to lay you back on your bed, his tongue licking the seam of your bottom lip asking for entrance into your soft, warm mouth—which you immediately allow. 

“Shhh, darlin’ will you lemme take care of ya? Wanna make you feel so good baby, make up for how bad I've been actin’.” 

You let out a moan when you feel the rough denim of his jeans buck up into your soft sleep shorts making contact with your clothed cunt. 

“Please Joel, need you so bad,” you whine as he starts to place kisses from your jaw down to your neck—slightly nipping and leaving a trail of small red spots in their wake, which he soothes with his tongue causing a high pitched whimper to leave your lips; beads of frustration beginning to gather at the corner of your lashes. 

“I got you sweetheart, I’m right here, can I take this off?” Joel questions as he lifts the hem of your tank top.

You nodded quickly as he borderline rips it over your head, quickly latching a mouth onto one of your nipples as he massages the neglected one with his hand. 

“Ohmygod-” you cry as he expertly flicks the bud with his tongue, soon moving over to the other nipple to give it the same treatment.

Arousal pools in your gut as Joel groans, beginning to leave kisses from your sternum, down to the soft skin of your belly, and right to the hem of your sleep shorts.

He leaves a soft kiss there and looks up to you to ask for permission to take them off. You nod vigorously but he shakes his head and leans down more to press a kiss to your clothed core, emitting a loud gasp from your mouth. 

“I need words darlin',” he states, glancing back up to you as you vocalize your permission. Joel wastes no time in taking your shorts down in one quick motion once you say yes—leaving you in your white lacy panties.

He runs a finger over the damp spot in your panties and then brings his arched nose close to the spot to breathe you in as well as to lick your folds through the cotton, his nose perfectly bumping your clit in this position causing you to squirm and moan his name. 

“Joel please,” you begged as he pulled away and began to run soothing circles into the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Please what baby, tell me what you need,” he demands as you try to buck your hips up to his mouth, but he won't let you, strong hands keeping you in place. 

“Your tongue Joel I need your tongue,” you whimper but he shakes his head. 

“Where do you need my tongue, baby? Gotta tell me if you wanna cum, sweet girl.” 

You whine in embarrassment and look down to see Joel Miller with the smuggest smirk you have ever seen. 

“I need your tongue on my pussy Joel, please take off my panties and use your tongue,” you beg as he chuckles and gently removes the white lace—quickly stuffing it in his back pocket before you can see. 

“Good girl baby, that s’all I needed,” he murmurs as his tongue comes into contact with the bare skin of your folds causing you to gasp his name and grab his salt and pepper hair to hold him against your cunt.

 “Oh my god Joel that feels so good!” You cry as his tongue moves from licking solid stripes against your folds to suckling gently on your clit, as your legs threaten to squeeze around his head. 

“Fucking Christ sweetheart, you taste so good, can’t get enough of you,” he groans as he continues to lick into you—the coil in your tummy beginning to tighten but you need more to get you to your high. 

“Mmm your fingers Joel, please I need your fingers,” you groan, causing Joel to growl against your pussy, the vibrations only heightening your pleasure. 

“Okay baby, think you can take two, huh?” he murmurs as he presses several small kisses to the inside of your thigh.

You whimper a small “yes” as he gathers your slick on his middle and ring finger—the burn you feel from the sheer girth of his fingers stretching you open fades into a dull bliss. 

“J-Joel I’m close,” you alert him as you buck into his face and fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“Yeah, baby? C’mon then cum for me sweetheart, let go,” Joel coos gently and that’s all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—a stream of your slick gushing out all over his face and onto the scruff of his beard. 

He continues to lick you through it until you're shuttering and mewling from the overstimulation. He pulls away with a large grin on his face as he reaches down to kiss you passionately, the sweetness of your fluids on his tongue making the kiss that much sweeter.

He wiped the rest of you off of his beard before giving you small pecks all over your face until you were giggling and he was chuckling. 

“I am sorry y’know,” he whispered in that silky smooth voice of his. You cupped his cheek with your hand, rubbing circles into the scratchy skin. 

“I know.” 

Joel got up to get a wet cloth to clean you up. He then took his time putting your sleepwear back on—leaving gentle kisses and massaging every inch of your body he could see.

He ended up spending the night as you curled into his strong arms as he stroked your hair until he felt your breathing even out as slumber took over you. 

He stayed up and watched you for a while until he soon fell victim to sleep; the thought of him finally being able to be completely happy despite everything was a comfortable thought, and it was all because of you. 

[whenlostinthedarkness]

Chapter 2 | Part Two: Silk Chiffon

Lead Singer!Reader x Lead Guitarist!Ellie Williams

Summary: A smoke session in the hotel leads Reader & Ellie into a conversation about the past that affect their future.

Warnings: Sexual Content(f/f fingering, oral, and dry humping), and Infidelity.

WC: 5k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series so far & for the positive feedback 💜 Enjoy

Series Masterlist

"Do you ever think about us?”

Ellie's words echoed in your head like a prayer sung in a cathedral. Over and over and over.

“I uhm-I mean..”, you couldn't help but stutter.

Meanwhile, Ellie stifled a laugh as her eyes remained on the ceiling and her mind reveled in the amusing way you were reacting to her question. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”

Your pupils searched around the room as your hand came up to scratch against your bare arm. You needed something to tame the anxiety running marathons inside of you and your surroundings were the only thing you could use as a tool to calm it.

“I think about us.” Ellie said it so casually, you had to question if what you heard was real or a hallucination.

“What?”

Ellie's chin lowered, her eyes following along with the movement until they rested on you. “I think about us.”

She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, when in reality, what she was confessing to was something so thoroughly massive in your brain.

“In what way?”

Ellie’s eyes left yours as the confidence seemed to drain from her once sharp facial expression as she shrugged her shoulders. Suddenly, she grew shy at the thought of talking about your relationship together and how it still runs through her mind on a near daily basis.

The temperature seemed to rise in the hotel room even though a soft breeze was flowing freely through the window. Without a word, you turned to walk the short distance back to the couch and took a seat in the same spot you once occupied before; Ellie followed shortly after.

The strain in the room was severely obvious.

You presumed the only reason Ellie had asked a question like this or brought up this sort of conversation all together, was due to the fact that she was clearly very high and spaced out. Which, you weren't wrong about.

Ellie was indeed very high and sunken down deep in her mind as she dared to travel to the one set of memories that were usually barred with yellow caution tape. The memories always appeared so enticing and leaving her wanting to visit the scene of the crime again..but never being able to push herself fully over that barrier to engage with them.

Now, it was different. She was high, you were high, and a shared hotel room was proving to be a nudge in Ellie's rib as she became consumed with thoughts about something else. Someone else.

It was suddenly like you were a hyper fixation of hers that she was bursting at the seems to talk about, yet, she held it in. Instead, opting to keep quiet and let her thoughts be silent or get distracted by something else that wasn’t her life. Yeah - that's what she needed, a distraction.

“You still wanna watch that movie?” Ellie’s voice was so fucking soft yet at the same time very hoarse, it almost made you melt right then and there into the couch.

“Yeah,” you gulped, “anything in mind?”

“How about….”

Your finger aimlessly flipped through all of the options on the screen as Ellie scanned each of the selections until she found the winner.

“But I’m A Cheerleader- that one!”

You shook your head with an amused smile, "Typical".

“What?” Ellie's smile returned to her face as the room relaxed for the first time in several minutes.

“You’re just so predictable- that’s it”, you said playfully while shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s my favorite fucking movie. You should already know I’m biased to it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” you waved Ellie off as your thumb clicked a button on the remote that started the films opening scene to display on the large flat screen tv.

In her best efforts to fight off the chill in her body, Ellie grabbed the blanket she had packed along with her and spread it along the lower half of her body as she allowed herself to relax into the cushions.

“How old were you when you saw this for the first time?” You wondered as your eyes watched the cheerleaders twirling high up in the air as the camera panned to an up-skirt view.

“Too young.”

“Like how young?”

Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe like ten..eleven. Something like that.”

You nodded with wide eyes. “Damn, ten?”

Ellie chuckled at the disbelief in your voice. “Yep. One could say it was my gay awakening.”

“What about Princess Jasmine?”

“She’s different. She’s an angel and can do no wrong.”

A thunderous laugh left your lips which instantly made you slap a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound.

“Plus, I was too young to understand I wanted to fuck Princess Jasmine so she doesn't count as my gay awakening.”

Ellie enjoyed your laugh, enjoyed it that much more when she was the one inducing it. It’s like she got a shot of pride directly injected into her veins whenever she could sprinkle a moment of joy or humor or any other emotion that made you feel good. She wanted to make you feel good always and would if you let her.

It's comical in a way. When Ellie was 19, it was as if she had to keep trying to convince herself that she didn't care about you nearly as much as she knew, deep down, she did. In fact, it was as if she was fucking up on a near consistent basis purely just to keep up the act that she was only caring about herself. If the act was more for you and the public, or herself, she wasn't sure. It only became more difficult for Ellie to keep up with this act the further and further you both got into your relationship.

When things were going really well between you both back in your college days, fuck, was it good. On the other hand, when things weren't going well, usually because of something Ellie did, they really weren't going well. It was almost like the good moments were a spotlight shedding on what could’ve been if you and Ellie both had been just a little bit older and more matured and established in yourselves. Sort of like how you both were now.

Yours & Ellie's conversation tapered off naturally as the both of you started watching the movie. Not that Ellie was having much luck in concentrating on the film.

You, on the other hand, were fully entranced on the current scene where the main characters, Megan & Graham, sneak off to have sex for the first time.

The film made it exceptionally pretty. The soft pink tones, the gentle touches, the intimate eye contact between the characters- it truly set the mood for what your first intimate experience with another girl felt like.

Your gaze was too concentrated on taking in all of the details in the movie, that your sober mind had never bothered to notice, that you missed the heavy gaze Ellie held on you as she moved her body slightly. Now, she was seated on the couch, but her body was twisted so she was facing directly towards you with her knees pulled up to her chest.

Eventually you caught on to Ellie's stare, nearly catching you off guard when your eyes met.

"You okay?"

Ellie didn't answer verbally, just opted for a nod as her mind was deep in thought. You mimicked her nod of the head and returned your eyes back to the movie while trying your best to ignore the heat from Ellie's eyes that you could feel were still concentrated on you.

"I miss you."

Your eyes returned to where they were moments ago as you looked into Ellie's green eyes. "We see each other like everyday Ellie."

Ellie nodded, "Yeah, but not like this. I feel like we are walking on eggshells together most of the time and now it just feels..I don't know. Natural. Like old times".

You knew exactly what Ellie meant. She was talking about how things were when you were dating, but now you were far from that and hadn't been even close to that for a couple years.

"I mean..things are different now."

"But why?”

You matched Ellie's position as you twisted your body to face hers. "What do you mean why Ellie. You know why."

Ellie knew you were right, yet there was some part of her that wished things between you both would've gone back to normal after your breakup. Surely wishing something like that was foolish, yet Ellie lived to be the fool.

"I just miss you."

"What things do you miss?" You asked genuinely as the movie now became background noise to the first conversation the both of you had really ever had regarding your past relationship.

Ellie's brain immediately went through film clip memories in her mind of all of your good times together. The late night escapades, the movie nights, the jam sessions, even the sex. It was all something that felt right and natural. Ellie missed all of that, and tonight was feeding a hunger for that feeling she wanted to have again with you. She didn't want it to stop.

"Shit like this..," Ellie shrugged, "..watching a movie, smoking weed, cuddling on the couch.."

Ellie's voice trailed off on the last part as if she were ashamed, which, in some ways she was. However the need for this feeling with you was outweighing any guilt that she could be feeling right now.

"The cuddling huh?", you teased with a warm smile. "Do you think that's a good idea? Cuddling?"

The answer was clear. You knew it, Ellie knew it, yet the both of your bodies somehow began to scoot closer and closer to one another.

"What's so wrong with cuddling?" Ellie asked with innocence which made you roll your eyes.

"I think you know why we can't cuddle Ellie."

By the time you finished your sentence, you and Ellie had hunched backs as you both naturally leaned in towards each other like metal to a magnet.

A heavy sigh fell from Ellie’s lips as she fought a battle within herself that she didn’t know the outcome of. That hunger, that want, that nostalgic feeling coming back was making her want to take in spoonful after spoonful of you and this feeling. On the other hand, she knew it was bad to even entertain such a concept.

She had a loving girlfriend at home that was great in every way possible, but why didn’t she make Ellie feel like this? She kept asking herself this question over and over. Until she couldn’t take it anymore. The two choices sit like two different entrees on fine china. Ellie’s mind kept going from one to the other, trying to decipher if she wanted normalcy or if she wanted you.

“Fuck it.”

A breath gasped out of your mouth and vibrated against Ellie’s lips as she held them against yours like her life depended on it.

Your first thought was shock, but relief soon chased it as you found yourself melting into the tender kiss.

One of Ellie’s hands went up to cup the side of your face as your mouths continued moving slowly against one another’s. It felt so sweetly familiar.

For a second, you were nineteen again and kissing your college roommate for the very first time. The pent up tension and feelings were coming to fruition and that similar sense of relief that you felt when you were 19 was present in this very room as Ellie cradled you in her arms with a grip that held a fear of you trying to leave.

What Ellie didn’t know is that you too had an appetite for this sorta of feeling and you weren’t planning on cutting it off anytime soon. At least not tonight.

Ellie's girlfriend wasn't a thought in your mind or hers as you instinctually moved into Ellie's lap to straddle her waist. Both of your lips moved fervently against the other as tongues collided and saliva coated both your mouths like a shiny clear gloss.

Everything felt second nature and habitual. The way one of Ellie's hands gripped your waist tightly as she pulled you as close to her chest as possible, and the other rested at the swell of your ass. Natural.

The way one of your hands cupped the side of Ellie's face as you ground your hips down towards her; so fucking natural.

Ellie let out a groan at the friction as she tried to pull you tighter to her body, even if it was impossible for you both to get any closer. Her strong grip on your hips was enough to have you mewling into her mouth which only made Ellie feel more starved and deprived of your alluring noises, the warmth of your skin, and the way your mouth fit against hers like the missing puzzle piece that had been brushed under the couch for ages. It was a sensory overload that you both had missed and craved, yet suppressed time and time again - and for what reason?

At this very moment, everything else was quiet and nonexistent. All that was in both of your worlds right now was two past lovers who desperately needed one another.

Ellie allowed you to gently push her to fall backwards so her back rested on the couch as she gazed up at you sitting on top of her.

The quiet and stillness suddenly made everything stop. The eye of the tornado had passed and now it was stillness- A calm just after a storm that caused a kind of damage that could destroy towns.

Ellie mimicked your heaving chest and wide eyed gaze as you stared down at her and she stared up at you. Images of her girlfriend were now flickering through her mind, yet her hands never even thought about straying away from your hips.

As much as this moment was a moral battle for Ellie, there was also a sense of comfort in the familiarity that was your legs resting on either side of her.

Silently, your eyes made a treaty with one another that spoke of consent and allowing whatever happens, to happen but that didn't make you any less hesitant. You had nothing to lose, but Ellie had an entire relationship to lose.

You both could stop the betrayal with just a kiss - you both should stop the betrayal with just a kiss.

Yet still, Ellie nodded as she sensed your hesitancy. She wanted you to know that she knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling and still she wanted this so incredibly bad. Who were you to deny that you wanted the same exact thing when it was consenting right in front of you?

You couldn't nod any quicker and Ellie couldn't move any slower as her hands squeezed your hips in a nearly feral manor. This made you smile and feel a sense of shyness as Ellie looked at you as if you were the Mona Lisa in the flesh.

Gently, Ellie's hips rose up off of the couch to collide with your center, making you bite your lip as you brought both of your palms to rest on top of Ellie's stomach.

Your eyes remained fixed on her as you bent the upper half of your body downwards towards Ellie; your hands sliding all the way up to her shoulders as you did so.

You were now hovering directly above her like a mobile above a babies crib. Ellie's tongue wet her lips as she looked at you as if you were a meal she had been starved of for years, which you had been, but all by choice.

In a challenging nature, you ground your hips down onto Ellie's. Her eyes squinted harshly at the interaction as she slid her hands down so she could unashamedly knead your ass.

Your faces were so close together that both of your breaths were hitting the other with a vapor of warmth that was charged with anticipation and excitement. Ellie was finding it all torturous.

"Please."

Her voice was so quiet it was nearly drowned out due to the audio from the movie, but your focus was on her and only her. You heard her perfectly clear.

"Please what?" You questioned knowing damn well you speaking would lightly brush your lips against Ellie's as you remained hovering above her.

Ellie let out a groan paired with a rolling pair of eyes as she squeezed your ass harder in the hopes that would get her message across...but she should know you better.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to use your words El."

You wore a near devious smile as you turned your face to the side, allowing your mouth to graze along the skin of her freckled cheeks and travel downwards towards her neck.

The tingling feeling made Ellie shiver the closer you got to that euphoric spot just below her ear and when your lips did finally meet that thin layer of skin, you paused entirely, making Ellie huff out of frustration and neediness. You found it all very amusing as your lips continued ghosting along.

“Are you not having fun?”

All Ellie could manage to do was sigh loudly which seemed to spur you on even more.

“Awe you don’t seem like you’re having fun.” You sealed your sentence with a severely light peck to her neck in the exact place she wanted, making Ellie’s hands squeeze your ass again as her eyes began to close. “Then again, maybe you are.”

“Shut up.”

Suddenly, Ellie sat up, forcing your body to sit up along with hers. She wrapped one of her arms around your waist and firmly held you against her as she swapped your position with hers. Now, Ellie was above you and moving quickly to take off her hoodie.

You laid in awe as you took in the view before you. Ellie in a white tank top with messy hair that was stuck up in multiple places, yet the image was as close to the past as it could get in your mind. Except now it was fast forwarded a couple years- Ellie’s facial bone structure was more pronounced, her upper body was more lean and muscular, and her eyes had dark gray underneath them from exhaustion, yet you felt like it complimented the green in the nicest way.

Once again, silence consumed the room, even as Ellie lowered herself downwards and kissed you without warning-not that you needed one.

From here, the race began.

In contrast to earlier, both of your locked lips were desperate and chasing one another. Saliva began dripping along the sides of Ellie’s mouth as she left open mouthed, gasp filled kisses that only separated when she desperately needed to have your bare skin touching hers.

Quickly, Ellie moved to rest inbetween your legs before her fingers found the hem of your flimsy t-shirt. The further the material moved upwards, the more present the urgency was as you assisted Ellie in lifting the material the remainder of the way up until you were tossing it on the floor.

You swore you saw Ellie’s eyes pop out of her head when your bare chest was on full display for her to indulge herself in shamelessly-and shamelessly she did.

A guttural noise came straight from her chest as Ellie’s hands moved to squeeze your tits together, making you lull your head to the side out of sheer pleasure.

“Ellie,” you whined, making that same noise slip off of Ellie’s tongue as she moved her face and began furiously kissing along your collarbones.

Her tongue glided along your skin, leaving trails of wetness in her path, until she got to the place her mouth had been watering for.

Your nipple felt velvety against her tongue as she lapped it up using various circular movements. This feeling used to be a phantom, but now it was in the flesh and she couldn’t believe she had been depriving herself of the delicacy that was you for all these years.

Your fingers twirled the hairs that sat along the back of Ellie’s neck, occasionally pulling them whenever she hit a particularly heavenly spot. Ellie gently grazed her teeth along your nipple while her other hand stayed firmly placed on your ribcage- half in order to keep her own balance, the other half just so she had an excuse to be touching you with every limb that she had.

Ellie began sucking on your nipple and you couldn’t help but arch your back off of the couch, naturally making yours and Ellie’s centers grind against one another. Clearly Ellie was enjoying the friction-and so were you-as she continued sucking even more harshly on your nipple, just the way she remembered you liking it.

By now, you were dripping wet as the currents of pleasure, from the friction and Ellie’s mouth, had you rocking your hips against Ellie as you searched for any sort of abrasion in order to ease the pressure that was weighing heavy on your clit.

“Take this off, you spoke through heavy breaths as your hands moved to the back of Ellie’s shirt. You were tempted to just start taking it off yourself, but you were still hesitant in whatever was happening between the both of you and the only thing that was reassuring you it was okay was Ellie giving her consent.

Ellie swiftly moved upwards and discarded her shirt so it met yours on the floor-a silent consent. Now, the both of you were matching with bare chests exposed to one another.

The moment Ellie moved back down to kiss you again, both of your bodies began sinking up in a rhythm that was getting both of you equally worked up. Ellie’s hand moved to your thigh and lifted your leg up to her hip as she ground her hips down against yours again, but this time with much more access and ability to move against one another with an added pressure.

While the both of you continued fucking with clothes on, Ellie’s hand had managed to slink in between both of you. Her fingertips pressed firmly against your clothed center, feeling the slightest bit of wetness that she was hoping she would find seeping through the thin cotton of your sleep pants.

In unison, you both made a noise of pleasure as Ellie continued rubbing along your clothed core, until you gave her bicep a squeeze.

Ellie released the suction of her lips against yours and peered down at you with a cautious facial expression. “You okay?”

You smiled slightly at the worried expression on Ellie’s face and nodded. “Yeah, I'm good. Really good.”

Ellie’s eyebrows relaxed from their tense state, yet she was still confused. “Are you sure this is okay?”

You shrugged as your eyes averted from Ellie’s worried look. “I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, not me.”

There was that reminder again about how wrong this situation was, but how could something that’s so wrong feel so incredibly right to Ellie?

Silently, Ellie’s mouth moved to your neck as her hands went to rest along either side of your body. “The only thing I'm thinking about right now is how you taste.”

Her lips left a long kiss to your neck as your eyes nearly rolled to the very back of your head as she did so. “Take off my pants then.”Ellie snickered at your confidence as she obeyed your command.

She maneuvered her body so she was sitting back on her knees-her hands were quick to reach the top of your pajama pants and shed your lower half of it’s top layer.

“God damn,” Ellie sighed words that were meant to be internal, but at the sight of the dark spot that was gathering in the center of your panties, she just couldn’t help herself.

As much as she wanted to enjoy this moment and take her time, Ellie also couldn’t fight off her primitive urge to have your cunt on her mouth.

Swiftly, Ellie’s thumbs hooked on the sides of your panties; you raised your hips upwards to assist her in fully discarding the material off of your legs.

The natural scent of your pussy filled Ellie’s nostrils as she felt her heart start to speed up. Her hands were quick in moving to wrap around your thighs as she settled her face so that it was just above your warm and visibly wet center.

Ellie started off with slow kisses to your inner thighs and lower stomach,trying once again to take her time, until she physically couldn’t take it anymore.

Her teeth sunk into your thigh, making one of your hands raise up to rest on the back of her head and your crotch raise up to move along Ellie’s face.

Ellie’s tongue moved along her lips-the faintest taste of your wetness hitting Ellie’s taste buds for the first time in years. She was desperate now.

Her face moved down, pressing a long lick to your center and allowing you and her to both have some relief from the built up tension. She found herself humming in satisfaction as her tongue peaked out to gently lay flat along your dripping clit, causing you to jerk your body upwards from the sensitivity that was already very prominent. Ellie bared her teeth in a grin before she went back for more.

Ellie’s tongue made out with your cunt as she gave you the sloppiest, messiest head of her life. Your wetness mixed with her saliva as it dripped down her chin while she licked up your center faster and faster with each lick.

Your hand squeezed her brown locks as Ellie wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking it with all the pressure she could muster up before popping it out of her mouth.

Her eyes would briefly glance up at you to watch your every facial expression and bodily reaction to make sure she was hitting every spot that once drove you wild; she was happy to know your body was still a well read book in her library.

Ellie’s tongue went back to give quick, but long licks to your cunt, making sure to leave more pressure then the next. One of her hands moved to your inner thigh and pressed it down gently to ensure you were keeping your legs fully wide open for her, especially when her lips would take a break from the licking and go back to suck on your clit again and again and again.

You could feel the warm tension in your lower abdomen spreading throughout your body as you fully allowed your voice to moan and groan out whatever words came to mind that would accurately describe the ecstatic feeling that Ellie was putting on you.

“’m so close,” you whined as you subconsciously squeezed Ellie’s hair in your hand even more as you tried your best to keep your eyes open so you could watch the way Ellie looked in between your legs.

At your confession, Ellie began to slow down. Infact, her tongue was licking along your slit, but purposefully not putting too much emphasis on your clit because she knew you would be coming undone all over her tongue if she did.

As tempting as all of that sounded to her, she hadn’t even had her fingers inside of you yet.

Your eyes squinted as you watched Ellie’s tongue as it moved tantalizingly slow. By the way the corner of Ellie’s eyes were pinched, you knew she was smiling deviously even though her full face blocked as her tongue dragged up and down your cunt.

Her eyes looked straight into yours as her mouth disconnected from your center. A line of spit connected the both of you before Ellie wiped her lips with her thumb. With that same thumb, Ellie glided slowly along your cunt as the severity of your wetness made a squelching noise that had Ellie regretting she had ever removed her mouth from you.

Ellie’s teasing had you making noises as if you were a new born baby crying out for its mom. Begging and pleading and writhing so you could have your way, but Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she was much too entertained by how you were acting.

“What’s wrong?”

All you could do is respond with a whiny tone as her thumb dipped inside of your cunt for a brief second that didn’t last nearly as long as you needed it to.

“You like that? You want my fingers inside of you?”

Your nodding was so quick, it made your entire head vibrate. Ellie snickered with amusement as she watched you grinding yourself down onto her fingers that were beginning to pick up speed as they rubbed along your pussy.

“God you’re so hot.” Ellie’s eyes were super glued to your lower half as she watched the way your hips rolled into her hand, leaving your wetness to glisten on her fingers. She could only imagine how good you’d look riding her fingers like this.

The next time your body ground down, Ellie tested the waters by slipping the tip of her middle finger inside of you with ease, thanks to your wetness. Your little, bitchy whines were enough of an answer for her to proceed, But first Ellie wanted to take you to bed and ensure she had enough room to properly fuck you into oblivion.

At the disappearance of her fingers, you looked down with a mix of anger and shock. However, Ellie was quick to give clarification as she stood up from the couch with her hand outstretched towards you as she nodded in the direction of her bed.

You nibbled on your lower lip as you placed your hand in Ellie’s palm, just before she assisted in getting you to a standing position.

And from there, everything felt like a blur.

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S1

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 1 - Welcome Avatar

“The avatar is here” The guard spoke up as my eyes widened in shock. “The…avatar…?” The guard nodded at my question. I genuinely thought the avatar had died a while ago but I guess they were just rumors? “Chief Arnook wants both of the princesses and prince to attend the gathering for the avatar” I nodded as I went to get up to follow the guards. It's been a year since Sivoy, our youngest brother, was born. Not a lot has changed over the years, except knowing probably this year is going to change us the most. Yue is getting engaged to someone who she has been crying about. I will never forget when she broke down in front of me in my room. I held her, that's all. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't whisper any reassuring words to her or tell her it's going to be okay. The truth is, I was consumed by my own fears of my own arranged marriage next year. It's selfish yes, especially it isn't my situation currently but it will be sooner or later.

We both make it towards the feast, also having Yue’s special announcement of her being able to get married. What everyone else doesn't know is that she is already engaged. I follow her lead, sitting next to her at the edge of the table looking at the variety of foods, which is all seafood. I take a quick peek of our surroundings and see our sister tribe. A sister and a brother which I assume, including a young boy with a blue shaped arrow across his head. “The Avatar is quite young” I whisper to Yue as she nods. I continue watching the show Master Pakku has been presenting to us. It was intriguing, for sure but what was more enjoyable was a southern water tribe member poorly flirting with my sister. Getting called out by his own sister already. I stifled a laugh and just when I knew it, the whole thing has already ended. ҉ ☾

It was quite late at night, the moon spirit was shining brightly. I bowed slightly towards the moon and put my mask on. The mask was carved like a full mood with room for eyes, including feathers surrounding the mask. I pull up my hood from my jacket and go outside, quite far away from the other male waterbenders who were practicing. I mimic the movements that were taught to them. Yes, this is how I'm able to learn and use waterbending. I never know when to give up, I have been told many times by a variety of people. My dad specifically. “Hey! Young one!” I snap my head towards the sound of guards and before they could even ask a question, I disappear. “Where did he go?” one of the guards asked, clearing the mist lingering in the air from my leave. Home. I went home heavily breathing from almost getting caught. I'll just try again tomorrow.

“It wasn't as fun after you left…” I wanted to drown. Oh how much I just wanted to flip this boat upside down to stop Yue and this Southern Water boy from flirting, and I could have flipped this boat around if there were no restrictions. The next thing I know that stopped me from day dreaming was the southern water boy falling off the ledge. I laughed softly, asking Yue “Do you even know his name?” while she was waving off to her new crush. “Sokka” She responded dreamily with a hint of red on her cheeks. My eyes widened with sudden worry “Yue…” The way I spoke was intended to remind her that she was an engaged lady. I doubt father would allow her to marry someone else, especially if he is constantly traveling. “I know” Yue cut me off with a disappointing tone I felt nothing but sorrow in the moment, what's worse I couldn't do anything to save her. I stayed silent, leaning slightly back hearing the water move around us.

I was able to stop by Yagoda’s place, there was no reason to but she taught me when I was very young, it was a way to make use of my water bending by my father. She only taught how to heal however but what more can you do in this kind of situation. It's only fair I show respect for her by bringing her food, supplies, trinkets or even my presence. Before I stepped foot I overheard her talking to…someone? I take a little peek, leaning my body so only my eyes would be visible towards the door. It was the southern water tribe girl! What is she doing here…? Looking further towards the door only to realize she’s a waterbender…She's a water bender! I could use her to somehow convince Master Pakku and my father. Yes, it sounds horrible. Using an important guest to my own advantage but it's beneficial for everyone, even her so it's not entirely selfish. I wasn't able to convince Master Pakku. Instead he told my father my plan which led me to get in more trouble than I already was. I'm just a princess, and that's all I will ever be. My head snapped up as I heard the Southern Water Tribe girl coming closer. I took the chance to grab her wrist and pull her to the side. “Hey! Who-” “It's me!” I said pointing to my very obvious white hair. “Oh you're the younger princess! What happened?” “You can waterbend? Correct?” I asked already knowing the answer “Yes…why?” “Because I feel like you can convince Master Pakku to allow us girls to waterbend�� I whisper “A lot of girls have water bending abilities however they’re forced to keep it in because of the strict rules but!” I pointed at her “Your the southern side of the water tribe, maybe somehow show him your abilities and possibly convince him to allow girls to water bend” She looked at me confused. “How am I able to do that when I can't even learn whatever he is teaching?” I thought about it for a second until an idea popped into my head “Get it from your avatar friend! He is getting taught, right?” Her eyes widened as she nodded “You're right! Then I'll get it from him. Thank you…uh- princess…” I giggled “Y/N, just call me Y/N” “Katara” “Thank you Katara” I smiled as she walked away.

And this was the last thing I wanted. Seeing Katara and Master Pakku fight with waterbending. “This is all my fault” I muttered under my breath. “Your fault?” Yue attempted to confirm my statement. “What?” I look at her confused. Did I really say that out loud? “You said something” “I'm sure I did not” “But I hear-”

A big wave of water hit the ice, hearing the splash turned me away from the conversation. Both Yue and I were wincing from the sound of the impact. Last thing I see is Katara with a bunch of icicles surrounding her. She…lost…

I sigh sadly as I go to grab Katara's betrothal necklace that laid on the icy floor. But before I was able to, “This is my necklace…” Master Pakku grabs it gently. I immediately walked back. Ah…so the southern tribe existed because Katara’s family members did not want to stay in an area with unnecessary rules. It was quick to piece together. I heard Yue’s breathing become unstable, so I turned to look at her but she didn't look back. She was slightly shaking and tears were brimming her blue eyes. “Yue…” I spoke softly and sadly, reaching for her shoulders but she ran, covering her eyes with her hands to prevent more tears from falling. “Yue!” I yelled, already planning to chase her only for the southern water tribe boy to pull me back. “I’ll get her” He gave a reassuring smile then ran towards Yue. Both of them slowly disappearing. I wonder if he knows why Yue was crying. I furrowed my eyebrows in pity and turned on my heel to go back. “Y/N!” Katara yelled out for me, I turned towards her direction. “Thank you” she said out of breath. “I didn't really do anything” “You helped me gain confidence” She smiled “Well…your welcome and thank you for…all of that” I patted her on the head and she laughed. “You're an amazing water bender” I said and turned to go home. I sigh sadly wondering if Yue is alright.

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: I finished this quite quickly! ALSO THERE IS STILL NO ZUKO IM SORRYYY! I PROMISE ZUKO WILL BE THERE IN CHAPTER 2. The masterlist should be out by the time this chapter is out. This whole fic is COMPLETELY last minute like I started writing all of this today. BUT WOO impulsive decisions led me to post this. Also surprisingly, S1 of this series is literally almost ending LMAO. I think S1 is only like 4-5 chapters? I only finished Chapter 3 currently so im not sure. However I think S2 and S3 will be PACKED and im planning to add some extras in there too :D ALSO If you want to be in the taglist pls go ahead and comment or ask me :) Have a nice day!

-- Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano

[genshin-side-piece]

Love Me Tender

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry), my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

Maybe OOC for him? It's hard to say.

Neuvillette's favorite time to be with you is in the dead of night. He enjoys the days, in the sense that he enjoys being near you. Watching you from across the room did bring a sense of comfort from the knowledge that you were safe in his care, but that was all. He garnered no satisfaction in it, not when he ached to be so much closer to you than what he is allowed to be. You denied him that. Despite you being in his home, in his care, you denied him the right to be next to or close to you. He was only ever allowed to be near and even that had not come easily. It was the one concession you had made after doing all you could to avoid him.

In the past, outside of meals, you had always left the room the second he would appear. It was in vain of course. Neuvillette would follow you, like a loyal dog follows its master. His eyes fixed on your form, dutifully watching your every move. Room to room, hallway to hallway, until he finally cornered you in a space where you could not escape. From there he would take his appointed place near the door, keeping you where he wanted you until it was time to change for dinner or on the rarest of rare things, he allowed you to take dinner in your room before going to bed early. It had gone on from the day you had entered his house, lasting for months on end. You would run and he would chase. Oddly, he found it fun. The concept of chasing or hunting you awoke something dormant in him. An instinct that had long been buried due to its lack of use. It became a game between you, a battle of wills to see if he could trap you or if you could manage to get away. You never did of course. He had the upper hand when it came to his hunting grounds. If he wanted you in a particular room or to travel a specific path, he knew which keys to hide and which doors to lock beforehand to get you to go the way he intended. 

His favorite place to keep you was his study. Unlike the other spaces in his house, the study was on the smaller side. His desk dominated most of the space in the room, leaving either a small sofa or a chair beside him as your only two choices if you wished to sit. Any of the other options you had tried, like the corner that was furthest from him, were automatically dismissed. Seeing you was a luxury he could rarely afford. While he enjoyed his hunts, Neuvillette preferred not to waste what time he did have with you moving furniture every time he wished to see your face. His one insistence on the matter had been that you make a choice between resting by his side or the sofa. He had told you he didn’t have a preference of where, even though it was very clear he did. By his side was always preferable, though the thought of you sitting on the floor that first time awoke something that the gentleman in him tried its best to deny. Just the idea of you kneeling beside him was enough to make his c*ck stir. On the nights he didn’t come to your side, he laid awake, practically consumed by it. Your cheek grazing his thigh, his fingers combing their way through your silky hair, your contented little sigh as you rested your full weight against his leg. It was pathetic to think that fantasizing about the most basic forms of contact were enough to bring him to a swift orgasm, but here he was. After many months together, Neuvillette found himself so desperate for your acceptance, for your love, for your warmth that the mere mention of contact would cause him to make a mess of his hand. Maybe it was a good thing you always chose the sofa. If you did bring yourself to willingly be beside him or touch him, he might cum on the spot. 

He had time to work on that or at least that’s how he consoled himself as he cleaned himself up in the dark. The weather had been warm as of late. It had made maintaining a specific distance easy for you. He had to wonder if you would feel the same way once the weather turned cold. His office, like the rest of his house, did have a reputation for being drafty. Since you refused anything beyond the most basic of garments from him, it was only a matter of time before the cold got to you. What would you do then? Would you accept that as your appointed guardian he would have little choice but to punish you for your foolishness by holding you in his embrace as a means to warm you back up or would you suffer the chill for the sake of your own stubbornness?

The answer, to Neuvillette’s great surprise, was neither.

If his study was one of the coldest rooms, then outside of the bedrooms, the warmest place in the house was the drawing room. When the winter months came, the drawing room became a place of refuge for you since your keeper advised you that hiding in your bedroom was out of the question. Even if Neuvillette would happily cover you with blankets and furs should you ask, your pride decided you were better not to. You would rather freeze or in this instance, tolerate him being near you for the sake of staying warm. It had been a small victory for him. One that he relished every time he looked at you. From then on, you allowed him to sit in the same room as you, provided he stayed on his side. If he dared to get closer, he earned himself a scowl worthy of shearing the cliffs of Fontaine into the sea below. That’s if you looked at him at all. On the nicer days, your eyes were always fixed on something else, mainly the windows and the world beyond them.

Your present situation is not fair. He’s been made painfully aware of that through his own experiences with you. In general, Neuvillette understands that humans are meant to be free, or free within the limits that the laws of the land allow. The loss of that freedom should those laws be broken was to remind your kind of their place in this world. You, however, had broken no laws. At least none that were on the official books. In the eyes of Fontaine, you had been a model citizen, therefore you should be free. As far as Neuvillette’s own standards and rules were concerned, your behavior had been less than ideal. Hence his need to lock you away.

Neuvillette remembered the day or rather the circumstances that had caused him to clip your wings. He’d had you on schedule for sometime. You weren’t aware of it, but through his own manipulation of your life, you would wake at a certain time, eat at a certain time, work for a specific length, and finally report home at an appointed hour. Before his influence you had run around as you pleased. Your erratic behavior of running to and fro had made watching you from afar impossible. The schedule he slowly imposed upon you fixed all of that. You being at a specific place, at a specific time made things easier for the melusines to keep an eye on you and report in. Everything had been running rather smoothly, and Neuvillette found himself pleased with the outcome. You were where he wanted you, when he wanted you. Things were as low maintenance as they could be, until you decided to throw a wrench into the machine. 

He had been stuck at the opera for days, knee deep in an idiotic dispute. It was on that day, that you had decided to deviate from your normal routine. Thinking back on it, had things ended there and you had gotten back on track, nothing would have happened. In Neuvillette’s mind, one day's worth of deviation was tolerable. You took days off from time to time. It wasn’t too hard to pick up your routine on those days. You generally slept later or ate at different times, but there was one constant; you always kept yourself to the city. The melusines could find you without too much trouble. The only real inconvenience was that the daily reports about you were thrown off their schedule. He didn’t particularly care for it, but in this instance, it hadn’t mattered. This time, outside of one fact, the reports about what you ate, where you went, and who you spoke to couldn’t be made at all. How could they, when you had vanished without a trace?

There had been no warning, none of the usual signs that you were tired or stressed or in need of a rest. The day you had vanished started like all the others, the only difference was that it had begun with your bed being empty. The report that you hadn’t gone to work as you should didn’t reach him at the opera. Neither had any of the others regarding your lack of contact. Instead, the reports had been delivered, as instructed, to his office at the Palais Mermonia. Words like vanished, missing, and lost didn’t find him until he returned to the city two days later. At the time, he had believed you had been kidnapped. His own panic that you were missing had dismissed the concept that you had left of your own volition. The idea that you had decided to go away to the mountains for a few days seemed inconceivable to him. You hadn’t slipped your schedule while he had been distracted. You hadn’t taken one of the water taxis out of the city while no one was watching. No, in his own paranoid mind you hadn’t left, you had been kidnapped. Neuvillette had many enemies. Despite his own discretion regarding you, they must have gotten wind of you. That had to have been it. There was no other reason for the fact you hadn’t returned. You had been stolen. The very idea that you had been taken triggered something in him; something ancient, something primal. He needed to find you. He needed to hide you. He needed to protect you. Your part would be to comply with his wishes. Refusal was not an option. 

Neuvillette’s search for you was thorough. He scoured the countryside for you, searching above and below the surface for any sign of you or your abductors. No crevice of Fontaine was left untouched. No stone unturned, no ruin not inspected. It took him an additional three days to find you. When he did, the little house that you were staying in seemed anticlimactic. There were no guards nor was there any real fight. Just your utter confusion at the sight of the Chief Justice standing outside your door and Neuvillette’s solemn vow that he would never allow anything like this to happen again.

Even if it meant locking you away, your freedom could stand the sacrifice.

The contempt and rage that followed was something that took Neuvillette completely by surprise. He didn’t believe you possessed such strong emotions, but they were there. All it had taken was the cage door being locked shut to bring them to the surface. All he could do was listen as your cries and protestations lasted for days on end. Initially he had tried to calm you, calm your anger, but it had only made things worse. Stern or soft words didn't make a difference. You just continued to rage at him, so in turn he met you with silence. It wasn’t that he was insensitive to the situation, he knew taking your freedom wasn’t ideal. Where Neuvillette took issue was that he simply didn’t understand your reasons for being upset. The loss of freedom was unfortunate, but was it necessary. The schedule had been designed to keep you out of trouble. His motive in bringing you to his home was to keep you safe. You had deviated from one, so the solution was the other. Could you not see he was trying to help?

Even with his justifications though, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t feel guilty about what he had done. Your safety was of the utmost importance to him, but he desired nothing more than for you to be at peace with his decision. Neuvillette had brought you here for your own good. The world was a dangerous place and you, well you were far from safe in it. Your little disappearing act had shown him how incapable you were without him. That the schedule he had imposed upon you from afar was not enough. You needed a heavier hand to guide you, to keep you, to protect you. He knew you would be happier if you could be free, but that was no longer an option. Maybe that’s why he could never bring himself to be harsh with you. Neuvillette knows that on the surface, he could make your relationship be what he wanted it to be. Should his patience run much thinner, he could take a firm stance with you. He could apply force. It would be nothing for him to attach a leash to the invisible collar he made you wear and keep you at arm's length at all times. You could be bent, you could be broken, and most of all you could be rebuilt how he wanted you to be. Then, his dream for a life with you might be fulfilled. If he remade you how he wanted, you would smile at him like you do other things. He wouldn’t find himself envious of the sun, the music from the phonograph, the books you are permitted to read, and even the birds that play on the other side of the window. You wouldn’t love all of them more than you loved him.  He would be worthy of the smile he yearned for. The same smile he adored from afar and the same one that vanished the second you see him. His very soul shattered every time your lips fell into a thin line across your face, never failing to draw that same line across the room and his own heart.

That's what made the dead of night so special.

In the night, after sleep had claimed you, the hard line that you had drawn between you and he vanished. The darkness that consumed the world hid the truth of the entire situation perfectly. In those precious hours, he could pretend that you loved him. He could pretend that you understood his reasoning for his actions towards you. In his own mind, Neuvillette could make you accept that you were something delicate and rare. That you were unable to guard yourself from a world so keen to harm you. That you needed him to help you. He had imagined your gratitude a thousand times over. Decant thoughts of you thanking him for being your savior, of you falling into his arms, of your sweet lips on his, of your soft cries as he plunged his c*ck into you over and over.

It was untoward for him to think of you like that. He shouldn’t really. It was ungentlemanly to do so. But some things couldn’t be helped. When the night washed away the scowl that was reserved solely for him, Neuvillette found it all too easy to let his mind wander. He embraced the privilege of crossing the threshold of your bedroom and pretending that the smile you often wore in your sleep was for him. He could approach you without hesitation then. He could indulge himself in the feeling of your hair in between his fingers as he brushed it away from your face, the warmth of your skin as he ran his hands over the parts of your body that your nightgown or the heavy comforter refused to hide. He could work out his own frustrations by your side, his one hand fervently stroking his c*ck, while the other traced the lines of your thighs.

The entire charade was a ridiculous one. Something that in the cold reality of day he would dismiss as folly and nothing more. Logic, in this case, would always win out. You weren’t grateful to him. There was no way you ever would be. You didn’t understand his reasons for confining you. You would never understand his reasons. How could you? In your short life span, you had been blessed with peace. The world as you knew it hadn’t been torn asunder. You hadn’t witnessed the destruction of all you hold dear. If you had, perhaps you might share his view that you needed to be kept safe. Then, maybe Neuvillette wouldn’t have to reduce himself to being nothing more than a pathetic figure, pining for you in the dark.

Because god how he wanted you, how he needed you, how he loved you. On his worst days, when the burden of the nation was to the point that he felt the weight of it would crush him, he had you. His corner in the drawing room tied him over until the stars climbed high into the sky. Then, in the darkness of your bedroom, with only the moon light to serve as witness, Neuvillette could wrap himself in around you and wash his own worries away with the tears he spilled into your hair. Whispering a silent prayer that when the dawn came, perhaps today would be the day that you would see that he is yours. 

[brabblesblog]

As if the gods made you to ruin me.

A little love letter for everyone who makes art for this vampire man.

Inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. First person POV. A sculptor confronts a piece of marble, and Astarion is their masterpiece. One-shot.

The idea of statues "breaking free" from the marble is taken from Michelangelo. This can be better seen in his Prisoners.

@spacebarbarianweird mentioned Pygmalion today, and this idea came to me.

Read on AO3.

P.S. If my writing is something you're interested in, please consider my masterlist. I highly recommend beginning with the 'Whither' series. Thank you<3

The finest, purest white marble. I stare at it, unsure, trying to parse out the figure trapped in the block for me to release. An elf, I think, my hands reaching out in front of me, imagining where the curves would be. Curls, long and growing over his ears. A sharp jaw, strong and yet delicate.

I pick up my tools, and begin my work.

It’s almost as if I’m not in control of my creation. My hands work of their own accord, carving in features that genuinely surprise me and were probably not what I would have preferred, but the longer I look, the more it seems right.

It has deep, piercing eyes, with crow’s feet. I find myself staring at it at times during breaks. It looks like it’s trying to escape its stony prison, emerging from the formless block. Its expression is poignant, as if it was lost in thought.

Smile lines? I draw backwards and away from the sculpture, frowning myself. It gave the man a look of maturity even though it was youthful. Together with the smile lines and the subtle wrinkles on its face, it seemed as if the man had lived a harrowing life before being trapped in the rock for me to uncover.

And yet, it was beautiful. There was something ethereal in the way it gazed out into space and pondered nothing.

I keep up the work. I feel myself slowly getting absorbed by it. The compulsion to keep going is overwhelming, and unlike any other. I don’t eat other than the bare minimum. I don’t leave my room unless necessary. I don’t think of much else other than what part of him to carve next.

It - no - he consumes my thoughts. In the day I carve and release him from his marble prison. At night I dream of him. Of his face, of his delicate hands, of his lithe body. I dream, I wish, and I long.

He is my finest work, the star amongst my oeuvre. My patrons are forgotten, their commissions delayed. Their ire is nothing to me. There is only him.

Astarion.

The name, his name, comes to me in a fever dream. He reaches out to me, and I ask him what he would want to be called.

A frown crosses those features, and I want more than anything to press my lips to his forehead and smooth the furrows on his brow. I watch him open his mouth, and it surprises me to see fangs.

“Astarion,” he says, and his voice catches me by surprise. There is a slight nasal timbre to it, and a drawl, almost a purr, at the end.

I snap awake, staring at the marble statue. He is looking at a spot about a meter away from where I am right now, the moonlight streaming through the window illuminating his ivory skin.

Ivory. Color. I remember now. His eyes were crimson, his hair white as snow. Features I had never imagined, the medium of my work limiting me from even considering anything regarding complexion. However, the stone was a close match to his skin in my dreams - a white so smooth it was almost pearlescent.

A vampire, I realize, as I remember one more thing: the scars on his neck. I pick up my chisel and walk over to the marble, my hands searching for the spot I remember from my dreams.

I carve, and it is perfect.

I wonder who he is, and what he’s done in his life. I am almost done freeing him, the stone block now only at his knees. I work on his genitals, shaping them as best as I can. I carve out a vein, which I would imagine to be of a bluish tint.

His body is beautiful, and I step back to admire it. Muscular, but not too large. Delicate, long limbs, the marble’s natural veins adding to the illusion of an actual circulatory system. Fingers that would make a pianist weep. Strong legs, with subtle thigh musculature.

He is full of contradictions. Masculine, and yet feminine, his hands on the delicate tilt of his hips. Youthful, and yet his face belies a strange maturity and melancholy. So real to me, and yet here he is, just the work of my hands and my overactive imagination.

I am enthralled.

I do not put him on display once he is done. I don’t sell him. He stays in my room, taking up valuable working space. I do not care.

He is my muse. I talk to him, argue with him, ask him for his thoughts. There is no response, no more dreams.

I weep. I mourn for something that never was. I seek company in lonely taverns, for warm bodies to lose myself in. It is never enough. It is not even close.

I cover him in a sheet. I don’t want to see him, to be reminded of what I so desperately need and can never have.

I try, so damn hard, to forget.

“You ruined my life!” I scream to no one in particular, to him. I am unable to work, my patrons having moved on to more productive artists. I want to throw my chisels at him, to topple him over and ruin him, as he had ruined me. But I cannot.

I rip off the sheets, staring at that face that had burrowed so deeply into my psyche, and I give in and move to press my lips against it. I close my eyes.

The lips that meet mine are cold - but not stone-cold - and soft. I feel hands move to wrap around my waist, tugging me close. I instinctively move my hands up over his head, and feel hair against my fingers - curly, fine strands that flow against my fingers like silk.

A very good illusion from my mind, I gather. As I pull away I force my eyes to open. Crimson ones meet me, and those smile lines crinkle as he grins.

“Hello, darling,” he breathes.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire@qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld

[lenacosse]

Sirius black x reader that are in a secret relationship to not ruin their friendship, make it angsty, they pretend they don’t love each other and that it’s just secret sex (because the sex is fantastic) but they do love each other so much it consumes them.

Say don’t go…

pairing: sirius black x female reader

cw: brief smut, alcohol consumption, angst

word count: 3,295

(this is my first request so i hope it’s okay. hopefully this is what you were expecting!)

————————————————————————

You run your hands through Sirius’ hair as he pounds into you, the sound of your moans and the bed rocking against the wall fill the room. You feel yourself getting closer by the second, the tension in your stomach rapidly builds.

“Sirius,” you moan. “Im so close”.

“I know me too.” His thrusts get sloppier as he groans in your ear.

The tension in your abdomen releases as your whole body feels euphoric. Your moans get softer as you slowly come down from your high. Sirius gets faster, chasing his release, your legs shake around his waist as your nails dig into his shoulder pads. He lets out a deep moan and releases onto your thighs. Sirius gets dressed again, cleans you up and sits at the bottom of his bed handing you your clothes.

“You good to walk?” Sirius asks, passing you your jumper.

“I’m good, thanks pads.” You smile, what you said was only partially true. You knew you couldn’t stay, you never stayed that was one of the rules you gave yourself. For you having him in anyway at all is better than not having him. Even if it meant you had to hurt yourself every time by leaving.

“Alright, see you later. Remember if you see the boys on your way back tell them we were doing homework.”

You nod and give him a smile before leaving his dorm. Once you’re out your smile drops and your eyes water. Every time he doesn’t tell you to stay feels like a kick to the gut, you knew you were going around in circles with yourself. You were so undoubtedly in love with Sirius that you couldn’t even think straight. Any rational person would have ended the hooking up months ago, but you couldn’t get enough of it. It was the closest way to being with him and that moment when he’s undressing you, then touching you, and kissing you everything drifted away and all you felt was him. So you accepted the fact he only wanted one thing out of you, or so you thought because to everyone else it’s so obvious he loves you, anytime Sirius has liked a girl the only thing he would do is tease her and prank her. But he cared too much about you to do that, so instead he soaks up everything you have to say, he searches for your face in crowds, he values you opinions on literally anything and most of all he betters himself for you. However you couldn’t see that, and so he assumed you didn’t love him back.

“Where have you been?” Lily raises and eyebrow from behind her book as you walk into your dorm room, Mary is painting her nails and Marlene is finishing homework.

“Nowhere.” You reply and kick your shoes off. You sit on your bed avoiding eye contact with the girls, see you hadn’t exactly told them about you and Siriushe didn’t tell his friends, not even James. Yet Lily was catching on, she just knew but couldn’t prove it.

She puts her book down and goes to sit on your bed, she crosses her legs and sits directly in front of you. You look over to Mary who just shrugs in response.

“(Y/N) please just tell us. It’s so obvious,” Lily tried to get the truth from you.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Lily sighed.

“No I don’t actually, I’m not psychic.”

“You and Sirius? You’re hooking up right?” Mary looks at you, her question circling in your head.

You just start laughing, looking at her as if she’s mad. A part of you felt embarrassed, how you saw it was that Sirius was embarrassed to be with you, so he never asked you out to Hogsmeade or told you to stay. And now your friends were catching on which made you feel nothing but a deep shame.

“I’d never get with Sirius.” You scoff.

“It’s so obvious you’re obsessed with him. Why can’t you just tell us?” Asks Lily

“Im not having this conversation. If you don’t believe me then that’s your problem.” You glare at Lily and Mary. Lily moves off your bed and goes back to her book, Marlene didn’t hear a thing from listening to a mixtape through her headphones.

As you lay awake to Merlin knows what hour as you think of Sirius. Not being with him would drive you mad, but there’s no way you could go on like this. Nothing made sense, if you told him how you felt and he didn’t feel the same way things would be weird. You valued your friendship with Sirius and his friends, your friend groups had just started to merge together. Especially now that Lily tolerates James, and you didn’t want to ruin that. But you also couldn’t lose Sirius, Sirius who brought out the best parts of you, Sirius who brought excitement and thrill into your life. Sirius who made you laugh until your sides hurt, but most of all Sirius who gives you life who lifts you up and makes you feel important. You needed him, so you came to the decision not to talk to him, maybe one day you’d have the courage.

———————————————————————

You walk into the common room to hear cheers and clapping. Your friends had thrown you a surprise party for your birthday, you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face. Birthdays were a touchy topic for you considering your parents didn’t exactly care to celebrate, but you’ve found happiness in them since first year, and nothing made you feel more appreciated than seeing all their faces cheering for you.

“Happy birthday (Y/N/N)!” Remus smiled, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you. Whose idea was this?” You ask taking the drink that Mary forced into your hand.

“Mine.” Sirius walked over to you and Remus. He nudged you with his elbow. “Happy birthday.” He winked. You smiled into your cup trying to defuse the blush that was creeping up over your cheeks. You looked up to Remus who stood awkwardly watching the interaction.

“Im going to go..” he walked away. You turned your attention to Sirius.

“Was this really your idea?”

“What you think I don’t care about you? Lily was trying to get us to have a picnic for your birthday, that would’ve been awful.” You shrug as he said the first sentence, it took everything in you to not question how much he actually did care. But fighting wouldn’t solve anything right now.

“My saviour.” You roll your eyes playfully, Sirius excuses himself and you scan the room. It was packed with your friends and those in your year group, the smell of cigarettes and cheap alcohol filled your senses as the record player that Marlene has filled the room with ABBA, you leaned against the wall a content smile resting on your face. The reality that Sirius had planned this made you have butterflies, maybe he did feel something for you.. or maybe you were reading in to it too much but regardless you wouldn’t dare act on it.

Marlene walks over to you already half cut, you couldn’t help but laugh as she tumbled into some Slytherins.

“There she is, birthday girl.”

“Drunk already marls?” You tease.

“Of course I am.”

“Why are you standing alone, come sit with us.”

“I was just seeing who was here,” you replied and followed her to your group of friends. There sat James, Lily, Mary and now you and Marlene.

You played a game of never have I ever which of course ended in someone getting absolutely plastered. Surprisingly that person was James who drank to some really concerning things, which you absolutely planned to hold over his head.

“You should talk to Sirius.” James blurts out, Lily smacks him hard in the arm causing a groan to escape his mouth as he flicked her cheek.

“What are you talking about?” You sigh, topping up your drink with fire whiskey. It burned its way down your system as you took a sip, making you shiver.

“Watching you two is a complete disaster,” James tutted.

“There is no us. We’re friends, that’s all.” You scoff. You look over your shoulder to see Sirius standing there with a gift present, his face drops as you turn around. Before you know it he’s gone up the stairs.

You rack your brain trying to understand what just happened, until you realise he heard everything you just said. But that didn’t make sense. Sirius wasn’t into you, so why did he look at you like his whole world has shattered? You get up from your seat and head upstairs after him, you knock on his door and slowly open it.

“Sirius?” You call out walking into his dorm.

He turns to face you, a bottle of fire whiskey in his hand. He smiles at you, but he looked upset, you could tell by his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You walk to him. Sitting next to him, he passes you the bottle of fire whiskey. You take a swig, your throat and eyes burning from the sensation.

“Of course.” He replies flatly.

“Are you sure?”

“Just drop it.”

“Sorry.” You sigh. You awkwardly pull on your sleeves, the silence between you both is consuming you. “Lily thinks we’re hooking up. Can’t keep anything from her.”

“What did you tell her.”

“I said I’d never,” you cringe as the words came out of your mouth. You internally kick yourself, who the fuck says that?

“Of course you did.” Sirius scoffs.

“What do you mean?” You look at him, you look him in the eye, his eyes hold so much emotion in them that it makes your heart hurt. It was in that moment you realise what you’ve done. He loved you. He adored you. Yet sitting here looking at him you watch that love and adoration die. “Sirius..”

“Don’t.” He looks away. His eyes burning holes into the wall. Without looking at you he gives you the present bag, you take it and leave the room. Not daring to say anything that would make matters worse.

You stand against the wall, with shaky hands and open the present. You heart drops once you see it, he wrote you a poem, the poem talks about the little things you do that he adores. Reading it makes your head hurt, you feel like the worst person ever, you’ve frankly never felt shame like it. You can’t hold the tears that fall from your eyes, in the bag is also a bracelet, it has red ruby stones in it, seeing it makes your heart shatter even more. You go to your dorm, to catch a breath. Which entails you first starting at your present and crying, then trying to think of something to do but you ultimately decide that you needed to give Sirius space, talking it through is the worst decision. So you go back to the party soon after and the only thing you do is drink. You have never felt more ashamed, so of course you pity drink which leads to you being an absolute mess, but it kept your feelings at bay somehow.

“I think you’ve had enough (Y/N),” James says trying to pry the bottle off you.

“Fuck off.” You slur taking another swig.

“Seriously give me the bottle. This is ridiculous.”

“James. Fuck off.”

James just sighs and accepts defeat, you keep looking for Sirius. But you can’t see him that is until you’re sitting talking to Marlene who’s just a drunk as you are, suddenly you hear a bunch of cheering. You look over to where the noise is coming from and there’s a group of people circled around. Out of curiosity you get up to see, you stumble over and squeeze your way to get a good view. You see Sirius and this girl throwing back shot after shot, he catches your eye and gives you a cold glare. The act gives you goosebumps and makes your skin crawl, as he’s still looking at you he grabs the girl by the collar and they share a very passionate kiss. Your stomach churns and your vision blurs, you feel an arm grab you and next thing you know you’re in your dorm, uncontrollably sobbing.

“Drink this,” Remus gives you a cup of water, you take a little sip in between your sobs.

“I ruined everything,” you sob, “Sirius is never going to talk to me again.”

“He might.” Remus shrugged.

“Well aren’t you just so helpful.” You poke his chest. He gives you some tissues and sits with you until you pass out from all the crying you’ve done. Remus felt bad for you but he knew Sirius would eventually come around, he just needed time to be defiant.

——————————————————————

Two weeks has passed since your birthday, two weeks of torture. Everything between your friend group was so awkward you stopped sitting with them at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sirius upright refused to acknowledge your existence and anytime he looked at you it would be countered by him snogging his new girlfriend. Lily had tried to force you to talk to him but you couldn’t bare it, you also cried yourself to sleep most nights, you knew it was your fault but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“(Y/N)?” Marlene snapped her fingers in front of your face, startled you jumped a little and look at her.

“What?!” You snapped.

“You’re supposed to be quizzing Lily.” You sigh and look at Lily, she offers you a sympathetic smile and hands you her flash cards. You, Marlene and Lily were in the library studying for upcoming mocks. Except you couldn’t focus.

“You know what. I’m sick of this. Go talk to him.” Lily snapped, she had been trying to get through to you every single day since your party.

“I told you already, there is no point he won’t talk to me.” You fire back.

“No. There absolutely is. This is getting ridiculous! I can’t stand it, you have two choices. Stop sulking or go talk to him!”

“You don’t understand!”

You quickly realise all the people in the library are staring at you, you duck your head in embarrassment until you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn around and see Madam Pince standing with her arms crossed.

“You three out. Now. This is a library show some respect!”

You all scramble to collect your things and rush out of the library. You feel the eyes of students on the back of you head but you didn’t care, anymore.

“Look what you’ve done. I swear (Y/N) if you don’t go talk to him I’ll force you both into our dorm and lock the door until things get sorted.” Says Lily as she angrily walks beside you and Marlene back to the Gryffindor tower.

“You’re the one that started shouting not me.”

“I wouldn’t have to shout if you would just do the right thing.”

“Can you two both stop. Seriously, Lily I agree with you but she won’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“Thank you Marls.”

“I’m not defending you here.”

You roll your eyes at Marlene and the three of you burst out laughing, Lily apologies for shouting at you but you understood her reasoning. At the end of the day things weren’t going to work out between you and Sirius if you didn’t try to fix things.

———————————————————————

You pound your fist at the door rapidly for the third time, on the other side of the door you can hear music playing. Eventually after you’ve knocked so much that your knuckles have swollen the door opens.

“Ah the woman of the hour. What can I do for you m’lady?” James teases

You roll your eyes at him. “Is Sirius here?”

“He is.” James looks over his shoulder back at Sirius. “One second.”

James shuts the door and you stand waiting outside, you hear muffled voices and a few minutes later James opens the door again. “He can’t wait to talk to you. I’ll be in the common room.” James walks out of the door and you walk in, closing it behind you.

“Hi.” You say softly awkwardly standing at the foot of Sirius’ bed.

“What do you want?”

You sigh and think of what to say. “Im sorry.”

“For?”

“You know what for.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell you’ll have to remind me.” You stay silent looking at Sirius waiting for him to crack a smile, but he doesn’t. You forgot how petty he can be. “Go on.”

“Im sorry for saying we’re just friends,”

“…okay.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“There’s nothing else to say.”

“Sirius come on. You know how I feel about you.”

“No actually I don’t. You never ever made an effort to show me, all you wanted to do was fuck and then you’d leave right after.”

“You pushed me away!”

“I was doing what you wanted me to. You said it yourself were only friends there’s nothing between us.”

“No. Don’t do that. I wanted you to tell me to stay, I wanted you to want me. You don’t even like me so why did you write me that poem Sirius?”

He stands up walking towards you. “Because it’s not simple with you (Y/N).”

“What do you mean?”

“All the boys you like are refined and smart. I’m neither of those things.”

“I don’t care if you’re smart!” You gesture with your hands. “You make me laugh Sirius, you make me feel important.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?”

“Because I liked our friendship too much to sabotage that. Plus I never thought you’d actually like me.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“That’s bullshit. I done so much to show you I liked you.”

“Like what?”

“I read those books you like, I listened to the music you like, I listened to you talk about the things that you’re interested in.”

“That’s what friends do Sirius! That has nothing to do with liking me.”

“To me it does.”

“…well I’m sorry. But please stop hating me, I can’t bare it anymore.” Your voice cracked and you eyes welled up.

“I don’t hate you.” He replied softly, taking your hand.

You look down biting your lip as a tear escapes your eyes, Sirius lifts your chin with his hand gently and wipes your tear.

“Im sorry too.”

You let out an airy laugh. “For what? You didn’t do anything.”

“I should’ve heard you out.”

“I understand why you didn’t.” The silence fills the room again, you look up at him your expression soft. “Please give me a chance? I know I was wrong, but I won’t let you down”

Sirius cups your face and kisses you softly, the kiss was intimate and soft. Not like your usual rough and intense kisses. He pulls you in a hand running down your back gently, you slowly pull back.

Suddenly the door cracks open and you look behind you, there stands Lily and James both with smug looks on their faces.

“Finally. Up top Evans?” James puts his hand up for a high five.

“Absolutely not.” Lily rolls her eyes. You look back at Sirius and he cracks a smile. You felt beyond relieved that things are looking up, and the fact that Sirius doesn’t hate you makes everything better.

Lily drags James away and you kiss Sirius again. “You’ve no idea how relieved I am.”

“I think I have an inkling.” Sirius tucks a strand of your hair behind your era. “I love you so much, seriously it’s freighting.”

“Trust me, I understand. I love you too.”

[pedgito]

heyyy, idk if you're still taking requests but I haven't been able to get this thought out of my mind for like a week:

"fuck me like you want me"

"but I do want you"

"...wait, what?"

a friends w benefits to lovers w eddie?? reader catches feelings for him after a little while & is going to call it quits on the situation they have going until eddie confesses his feelings in the middle of what she thought was going to be their last time? idk if the concept is good but like I said I can't get it out of my head & i hope you'd be willing to write it. Ur an amazing writer <333 hope you're doing well lovely

author’s note: i actually really loved this idea!! writing has been a little tough for me lately, just with focusing but i really tried to do something short but sweet with this and i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fwb to lovers, confessions, angst/fluff, protected sex, just lots of feelings, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.3k

You wouldn’t even let Eddie pull you past the threshold of his room, adamant on where you stood by the front door, telling him this would be quick. And he’s got that look on his, always smiling at you like he wanted to say more, but he was being polite, listening to whatever you had to tell him.

It was a blindside, honestly. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’s remained this oblivious, missing the signs, the obvious distance you were trying to create, how quickly things went from good to bad, the awkward stage in between where you didn’t want things to stop, but you weren’t sure how troublesome things would become if they progressed.

So, you call it quits.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

Your voice doesn’t waver, no hesitance in your tone despite how horrible it felt saying aloud.

“What?”

Eddie doesn’t want to believe it himself, face contorting into a mix of amusement and confusion, grinning like an idiot. It was the same dopey smile he always had, never anything less than.

“This, we can’t.” Your finger wags between the both of you, “The sex—I can’t.”

“Are you—are you disgusted or something?” Eddie asks, his smile faltering, “Does this mean we have to stop being friends too?”

Eddie hates himself for feeling upset over it, doing his best to mask whatever hurt was radiating throughout him. The problem was, unfortunately, that Eddie had dived into this with feelings pre-established. He was reckless and agreed and threw himself into a mess he couldn’t escape—not that he wanted to, but it had never been just sex for him.

He’s never had friendship like this; he’s had friends, but the levels at which you and Eddie understood each other, it was hard to recreate.

And you loved Eddie, that much was true. But, you couldn’t stand the idea of the feelings not being reciprocated, cutting things short before they transformed into something you couldn’t snuff out.

It was preemptive—and maybe you were jumping the gun, but you didn’t have any other choice.

“We agreed on no feelings, right?” You ask to clarify, his face softening at the inclination—everything that was unclear shifting into place.

Feelings. Stupid fucking feelings.

“Yeah, but—“ Eddie starts to defend.

“I mean, we probably should’ve expected it, right?” You ask with a weak smile, “One of us was bound to catch feelings—“

The only thing Eddie can focus on is losing you.

In his mind he knows—you’d never really leave. And you had feelings, feelings for…him? For the sex? But, he can see the look in your eyes, the hesitancy you feel to move toward him, within his reach.

Eddie can’t take it, saying what you both were feeling.

“Is it selfish of me to ask for one last time?” Eddie asks, “Before things go back to how they were?”

How they were—when things were normal, if you could call it that.

You find yourself nodding before you can stop it.

And for a moment, everything else is forgotten.

Eddie kisses you like he always had, full and attentive, teeth dragging against your lip and his touches all consuming, traveling amongst your body with no real path, touching you, trying to remember you—but when he finally breaches your entrance after a few minutes of shaky hands struggling to open the condom wrapper, the head of his cock pressing inside you finally, everything’s different.

Eddie doesn’t realize how much of a mistake it was until this moment, your eyes connecting with him intensely, face contorted in an expression of confusion as you examined the frown on his face, wondering why he looked so perplexed.

“At least fuck me like you want me, Eddie.” You plead softly, his thrust slow and languid.

He’s not trying to hide from you, but he's definitely not here with you, in the moment.

He forces a smile and buries his face into your neck, pressing warm, soft kisses into your skin in hopes that you’ll change the subject, his hands adjusting your legs around his hips as he moves against you, more forceful than before.

“Hey, hey—“ You urge, pulling his face away from your neck until his wide eyes are on you again for a brief moment before his eyes travel to your chest, your thumbs rubbing at his temples, “what’s going on with you?”

Anywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t keep himself together with you looking at him like that.

“Nothing.” He persists.

You shake your head, breathing your nose in frustration despite how hurriedly Eddie was moving inside of you, grunting softly under his breath.

“You wanted this,” You remind him, “you can’t even look at me right now—Eddie—“

He collapses slightly, forehead resting on the pillow behind your head as he squeezes at your thigh, shifting his hips at angle that has you both gasping momentarily, your hands shifting to his shoulders for purchase, the dullness of your nails sinking into his skin.

“I do—“ Eddie mumbles into your skin, muffling the rest of what he says, only feeling the vibrations of it against you.

“Eddie, I can’t hear you.” You plead, brushing his hair behind his ear, rubbing tenderly at the shell.

Sex had always been slow, intimate—despite the obvious stipulations to your deal and maybe that was the problem.

The sex was fun at first, easy—and it stayed that way, but it ventured into more, always needing to touch and feel and connect, whether it be your lips or your eyes, it wasn’t just sex to either of you, and Eddie couldn’t handle it anymore.

He couldn’t do this, but he couldn’t not have you—even if it meant he risked embarrassing himself.

“I do want you.” He confesses, head lifted slightly so you could hear him more clearly, his gaze still avoiding yours. “I don’t just want this.”

“Wait,” You laugh short, annoyed, “what?”

“I always have,” He continues, “It’s never—it’s never been just this for me, I know it was stupid of me to agree and drag you along but—“

You shove his shoulder lightly, stopping his movements momentarily. He’s looking at you know, hair askew and his eyebrows furrowed in surprise, “What the hell?”

“You let me embarrass myself like that?” You say seethingly, though the anger doesn’t reach your face—you can’t be upset with him, not with your current situation.

Or ever, really. It was to hard to stay mad at Eddie.

“I come here and tell you I have feelings and you’ve felt that way the entire time?”

Eddie’s at a loss and maybe it’s the arousal running through his brain but he can’t help laughing, a soft chuckle as he falls against you, his chest against your own as his fists dig into the mattress.

“I’m sorry.” He says endearingly, “You know I’m not good with feelings, or talking, or words—“

You sigh heavily, palms coming up to cover your eyes.

Eddie smiles slightly, using his nose to nudge your hands away from your face, leaving kisses as he finally breaches.

Against your nose, “Sorry,” down to your chin, “so sorry,” before pressing a deep kiss to your lips, tongue slipping inside and causing you to sigh out into his mouth, “really, really fuckin’ sorry, okay?”

Your fingers dig into his hair, pulling him away until you can see his face, scowl deep set into your features but still soft around the edges.

“I’m here mourning and you’re harboring secrets like that?”

Eddie hangs his head in shame, leaning down briefly to press a kiss against your collarbone.

“Apology accepted?” He asks hopefully.

“No, absolutely not.” You reply stubbornly.

Eddie snorts out a ridiculous chuf of a laugh, “Fair.”

“We’re finishing this,” You tell him, making your point by squeezing your legs tighter around his hips, forcing him to groan pathetically, “and then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

Eddie nods obediently, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as his languid thrusts become more pointed and precise, his warm palm settling in your knees to spread you apart to his liking.

“Let’s see how much I can make it up to you then, yeah?”

He snaps his hips once, harshly, forcing a broken whine from your lips. You nod fervently, mouth hung open and any previous anger forgotten for the moment.

“I’ll show you just how sorry I am.”

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