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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

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You need a favor

SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | Part 1 Here | Masterlist

You’re out of milk.

You’re out of milk because you hadn’t had the mental bandwidth to finish your shopping three days ago after Johnny, with help from a certain puppy-eyed five year old, convinced you to have dinner with them after you made your very awkward introduction. Isobel had long ago told you his name but you’d pretended not to know for formality's sake.

“Neighbors shouldn’t be strangers,” he’d declared. That’s what you’re telling yourself as you hesitantly step up onto his front doorstep, empty measuring cup in hand. It takes several moments of controlled breathing and a fair amount of you rocking back and forth on anxious feet before you work up the courage to knock, a timid rap of your knuckles. You’re just asking for a cup of milk. Neighbors do that all the time. You’re just being- “‘S it Friday already?” His voice interrupts the silent conversation you’d been having with yourself and you nearly stumble back and off the narrow stoop.

“Oh, n-no. I just-” You take a beat, a breath, to calm your nerves. “I um, haven’t got any milk.” You lift the measuring cup, as if it wasn’t already obvious in your hands, and he leans with his shoulder against the doorframe. “Was wondering if I could borrow some?”

“Makin’ more sweets?” There’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, and you nearly drop the measuring cup when you spot the dimple hidden beneath a few days worth of stubble.

“Oh, no. It’s for combat corn.” The smirk remains but his brows draw together with a curious tilt of his head, and eyes the color of lochs in the summertime flicker with amusement.

“Combat corn?” he echoes, and it takes you a few beats to remember the distinctly American dish and the family joke that named it isn’t common knowledge in Scotland. So, you find yourself explaining to the man–who nearly gives you an aneurysm when he folds his arms and the muscles in his chest bunch deliciously beneath the corded muscles of his forearms–what scalloped corn is.

“Someone made a joke that it was like the food in the army, anything you could find just thrown together—combat corn. Called it that ever since.” You fidget with the measuring cup, tapping the pads of your fingers against the glass, overly aware of your rambling explanation. “It uh… you have to bake it. With milk.” There's a beat of silence and then he’s pulling away from the doorframe,

“Cannae say I have much time f’r bakin’ in the army.” He reaches for the measuring cup and your arm works independent of your brain to hand it to him, functioning on autopilot as your mind works to absorb the unexpected revelation about the man next door with the muscles and darling little girl. Your fingers brush, just barely, as you hand it over, and you can feel the confirmation of this newfound part of him, callus pads of his fingers glancing over yours to retrieve the glassware. “Never left a man behind though. C’mon in then.” Thank fucking god he’s holding the glass because the wink he shoots in your direction before retreating inside, leaving the door wide for you to follow, surely would have sent it shattering against the pavement at your feet.

Their home is both exactly what you thought it would be and somehow the complete opposite. None of the living room furniture matches, like it’s all been collected over many years, and looks well loved. As does the room itself, littered with toys and costume clothing, a small shelf in one corner near the television overflowing with bins of more colorful blocks, stacked high with books, and crammed full with stuffed animals.

“Sorry f’r the mess, Bell’s no’ fond of pickin’ up after ‘erself.” The clink of glass against stone countertops echoes from the kitchen.

“I can’t imagine she would be at her age.” Pictures line the wall leading into the cozy space. Some you recognize of Isobel. Some you think might be a younger Johnny. There’s one of the two of them, a very young Isobel balancing on top of his shoes and holding onto his hand in front of him, and Johnny stands with the other arm draped around the shoulder of the woman holding Isobels hand at his side. She has the same hair, wild and curly. Her mom. Something bitter coats your tongue at the realization, sour and unpleasant. You feel like an intruder.

You fidget with the sleeve of your sweater, struggling to put the pieces together. In all the time you’d lived next door, you’d never seen the woman in the photo. Never saw a ring on Johnny's finger. Never saw anyone but him walking her to and home from school. The sound of the fridge opening and closing precedes Johnny’s appearance at your side, measuring cup full of milk in hand, and you’re acutely aware of how close he stands, shoulder nearly pressed to yours as he follows your gaze to the photo. He smiles but it feels forced, like doing so hurts him.

“Havnae stopped to look at that one in a while.” The remark only confuses you further. Why does such a happy photo make him look like he just took a beating, like he’s smiling through the pain? When you don’t say anything he continues. “She passed. ‘Bout two years ago.”

Oh. The bitter taste on your tongue curdles into something rotten and rife with shame. You’d been jealous of his late wife. For all of about three minutes, but still. The realization twists your stomach into knots and it roils with guilt and embarrassment.

“I had no idea, I’m so sorry.” Sorry for feeling jealous of a dead woman. A cautious glance up at his face reveals a stoic expression, one he’s probably learned to carry on with from the military if you had to guess.

“‘S hard, ‘specially on Bell. Still too young to understand why she’s gone.” Too young to grasp the concept and finality of death. Far too young to endure the loss of a parent. Silence stretches long between you, thick with grief and the admission of a once beautiful life lost. Her life. Their life. Guilt nestles itself between your ribs, taking up space between flesh and bone and it makes your chest feel tight, lungs constricted by writhing tendrils of the ugly thing. He always looks so happy, always smiling and laughing with Isobel. Always strong for her. Who smiles for him? Who takes care of him? Does he hold it all in until he drops Isobel off for school, filling the silence of their home with muffled sobs and silent tears as he picks up toys and clothes?

“Bubby?” Isobel stands at the end of the hall near the stairs, hair tousled and eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and a little bear wearing a skeleton hoodie dangles from her hand. Johnny’s eyes immediately soften, cold fractals of sorrow melting when they land on the sleepy little thing, toddling closer to wrap her arms around his leg.

“Did ye have a nice nap. leannan?” He holds the cup of milk out to you, something you’d nearly forgotten about, and passes it off so that he can lift Isobel, settling her on his hip.

She mumbles something that sounds like an ‘uh-huh’, cheek squished against his shoulder where she lays her head. “Hi miss neighbor.” Little lips curl up at the corners to smile lopsidedly at you, and you give her a small wave.

“Hi honey. I like your bear.” It’s pressed between her and Johnny, little hood pulled over its head to make it look like it’s wearing a mask with a cartoonish skull printed on it. “Does it have a name?”

“Ghost.” Johnny’s own lips tug into a half smile. “Bubby’s friend uncle Grumpy gave ‘im to me.” He chuckles at that and gives her a little squeeze.

“Are ye hungry?” A nod and a toothy yawn tells him yes.

“Well it was very nice to see you, Isobel. And very nice to meet Mr. Ghost. I’ll see you in a few days on Friday, hm?” She nods and Johnny carefully lowers her to the ground.

“Go get washed up, Leannan, and ye can help me make supper.”

“Okay. Bye miss neighbor!” She lifts the arm of the bear, waving it at you before running off to the washroom. You wave one last time and turn your attention to Johnny.

“I should leave you to it. I need to get my own dinner going.” You raise the cup of milk for emphasis.

“I’ll walk ye out then.” He does so with his hand on the small of your back, guiding you past the living room-turned-warzone by Isobel and her toys, and surprises you when he follows you out the door, hand still lingering on your back, and walks you all the way to your door.

“Thank you. Uh, for the milk, I mean. And walking me over. You didn't have to do that.” His hand leaves your waist and fixes itself on the doorframe beside his head, leaning against it with his forearm and shoving his other hand in his pocket.

“What kind of gentleman doesnae walk a lassie home?” Any remnants of the grief that shone in his eyes moments earlier has been replaced with the warmth Isobels presence brings to him. It makes them look like the hottest part of a flame, bright and mesmerizing blue in the golden rays of the setting winter sun, apricity blooming a faint pink on his cheeks that mirrors the warmth creeping into yours for an entirely different reason. “Cannae let ye slip on the pavement. Bell would have my heid if ye got hurt and couldnae make it to dinner wi’ us. She’s been talkin’ ‘bout it all week.”

“Oh.” Really? ‘Oh’? That’s the best you can come up with?

“Been thinkin’ bout it too.” He shifts his weight, leans forward, and you have to look away for fear the flames flickering behind his eyes might burn right through your head to peer into your mind where he can see all of the inappropriate imaginings inside it. Your back to the door and him towering over you, one hand around your waist and the other braced against the doorframe as it is now. All that warmth in his eyes because of you. Burning for you. “Can’t stop thinkin’ of how ye’d look in our little kitchen, bakin’ yer sweets with Bell.”

“I could bring something, if you’d like.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re sweet enough on yer own, lass, just bring yer bonnie self. Besides, if ye do all the bakin’ here, how’m I s’posed to sneak a lick from yer spoon, hm?”

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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kenntolog · 13 days

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can you do smth about loser readers first interaction w sukunas friends/basketball team? i love the way you write their little moments

𝝑𝝔 an: hope you like this, bby!! thank u so much <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

it’s a little mistake from sukuna’s part; he accidentally arrives later to pick you up after he’s told you to wait in the empty arena and while he’s absent, it just so happens that his teammates are also leaving. and after they see you, everyone just can’t stay away from you.

most of the time enter the arena along with sukuna, his hand holding yours tightly as he looks at you with a smooth smile, busy telling you something to notice his teammates ogling you both because lovesick sukuna is something new. so it’s a total surprise to see you alone, sitting idly on the bleachers with your sketchbook in your hands.

of course, first and foremost, it’s fushiguro toji, who decides to plop down by your side, after his sharp eyes land on you as he comes out of the changing rooms.

you smoothly scoot away, intimidated by his close proximity, and look at him with a troubled kind of look, waiting for him to say something.

“the name’s toji.”

you mutter your own name, eyeing him warily as he leans closer. he doesn’t look very trustworthy; not with his sleazy smirk and sharp bright eyes, the scar tugging on the corner of his mouth and the way he doesn’t seem to understand what exactly is personal space. toji takes a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger as he tries to catch your gaze.

“so, tell me,” he pauses, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “what’s it like being sukuna’s little pet?”

you visibly wince, moving farther away from him before you hit something with your hand, forced to look back in confusion when you’re met with someone’s long leg.

“y’should watch your mouth, y’know? sukuna will bite your head off if he hears you.”

your eyes glide upwards, widening at the sight of the guy with long raven locks you usually see in the hallways with his white-haired friend. he gives you a soft smile, his presence far more peaceful and welcoming than toji’s.

“suguru? who’re you talking to— oh,” said white-haired friend appears behind suguru, throwing his arm over his shoulder as he gazes down on you curiously. “you’re sukuna’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“i’m suguru, this is satoru,” satoru salutes you with a lopsided smirk, sitting down on a row below as he watches you through the lenses of his eyeglasses. “and this is toji, he is a bit rude.” toji rolls his eyes at that, scooting closer to you while suguru takes a place by your other side, other teammates also gathering around.

you find suguru to be the more adequate one; he’s quick to shush down any suggestive comments from toji and monitor whatever comes out of satoru’s unfiltered mouth. toji, albeit a bit brash and full of teasing remarks about your relationship with his team captain, is not that bad, his eyes seem to speak more about him than any part of him because of how they are solely trained on you and that’s a little uneasy.

satoru is quite silly, donning a cheeky smile on his lips and joking around with suguru’s who seems to be more acceptable of him. nanami seems to only keep to himself after he greeted you politely and introduced himself, and loves to speak up only to shut down satoru’s laughable claims.

you can’t help but note that they are all ridiculously handsome. no wonder everyone drools over them; toji is all broad shoulders and bulky build, suguru’s long hair makes him look like a total model along with his much more balanced build, satoru is the tallest out of them, unrealistically beautiful and built like the perfection itself, all slim and tall limbs, while nanami is something like a mix of all of them, still very striking though.

although, very intimidating in their presence and appearance, they all seem to be pretty nice to you, you notice, and don’t try to pry too much into your personal life. except for toji — he just can’t accept the fact that sukuna’s dating a person, who is not even close to being similar to him, it’s so weird — and occasionally satoru.

that is, until the arena’s door loudly slams open and sukuna enters. the dead silence makes your stomach churn in nervousness as you watch his indifferent face turn more and more suspicious, his steps getting closer. he eyes down his teammates as he stands tall over the four of you, his gaze stilling when he notices toji sitting very close to you and leaning into your space.

sukuna offers you is hand silently, without looking at you, and you take it, face heating up from the intensity of his gaze even if it’s not directed at you. he leads you down the bleachers, not bothering to greet or talk to his teammates, and you can’t help looking back at them, waving your hand shyly as a way to say ‘bye’.

toji’s gaze lingers on you longer than suguru’s and satoru’s, the smirk on his face widening before he opens his mouth again, “won’t even let us talk more?”

sukuna flips him off, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “fuck off.”

+ bonus!

“did that asshole say anythin’ to upset you? if he did, i’ll beat him up.”

“no, ‘kuna, he isn’t that bad.”

“i’ll still ask geto, you’re too nice.”

“huh?”

#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

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girlrotterr · 2 months

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But I'm a lesbian!

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)

→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!

Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.

Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."

"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.

With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.

"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."

“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.

"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.

"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie.

"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”

You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort.

Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Silence.

Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.

Fuck it.

"Um, excuse me, where can I—"

"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.

Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.

Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.

Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.

Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.

Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”

"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"

"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.

With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.

As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.

What’s this girl's deal?

The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"

Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.

"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.

But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.

“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.

"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.

"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.

The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.

Her closeness was so overwhelming.

As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-

"Yo, Ellie!"

The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.

Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.

"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.

"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.

Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.

"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.

"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.

Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.

"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.

"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.

Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.

"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."

Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.

Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.

Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.

"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."

With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.

Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"

Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"

You shook your head.

"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"

“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”

Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”

You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”

Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.

As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.

Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.

Slap!

With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.

"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.

Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.

───

As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.

"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.

You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"

"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.

"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.

"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"

"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.

Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."

A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.

Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."

Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it.

"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.

Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.

Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.

“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”

Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.

Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.

Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.

"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,

“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.”

Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.

“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”

Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”

───

"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."

"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."

The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.

With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.

As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.

Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.

"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.

Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"

Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.

Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.

"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.

Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"

“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.

“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.

Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"

Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”

Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.

Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?”

“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.

You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.

“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.

“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.

“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!”

“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.

“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.

“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.

“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.

You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.

Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.

Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.

“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.

“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.

#ellie williams #abby anderson #dina tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie fanfic #ellie williams au #ellie fanfiction #ellie smut #abby fanfiction

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tddyhyck · 1 month

Text

in the next room [ nct dream ]

pairings ⇢ dreamies x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ exhibitionism, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, hot tub sex, car sex, clothes sex, balcony sex, face fucking, fingering, squirting, grinding, belt as a restraint, bathroom sex, spanking, spitting, dom/sub undertones, use of (whore, slut, baby, good girl)

masterlist

the sink is cold when you grip it, holding yourself up as he slides into your abused hole swollen and puffy from the day's adventures. you weren’t sure if it was hormones or if jeno was more enticing than normal. you just couldn’t help yourself. “so wet for me already?” he whispered against your neck before he started moving behind you. one hand gripping your hip the other tightening on your jaw every time your head started to droop. lifting you to look at him through the mirror. his eyes darted between your reflection and where his cock was buried inside of you. “fuck” you mewled as he hit your sweet spot, but quickly shut your mouth remembering your friends in the next room. “shh unless you want them to hear how good i fuck you” he mumbled against your burning skin. the thought of your friends hearing him fuck you like a whore made you clench around him. he smirked at you through the mirror. you looked a mess, eyes hazy and lidded, mouth hanging open. you lifted a hand from the sink to dip between your legs circling your clit with a silent moan. “hey is everything okay?” someone called from the other side of the door. you whimpered, the knot in your belly tightening as your eyes went wide, staring at him knowing you can’t respond. “yeah just a bit under the weather.” jeno replied, still thrusting into you harshly. you could hear feet pattering away. “you think they heard your sloppy wet cunt?” that sent you over the edge shuttering in his hold head lolling back against his shoulder. he continued to use you for his own release “perfect fucking pussy” he moans into your neck as he cums. you feel his release as he emptied himself into you for the fourth time today. you whimper when he pulls out, and again when he shoves two fingers inside as a poor attempt to keep his cum from spilling out between your legs. it doesn’t help much and he pulls them out tugging your messy panties over your cunt to catch anything else. you turn around grabbing his wrist before slurping his fingers into your mouth lewdly licking your mixed cum off of his digits, before fixing your hair in the mirror and joining your friends again.

the car was muggy like a hot summer day but it was the middle of january, and snow covered the ground outside. but inside the car was filled with groans and moans and hot breaths on necks. you left open mouthed kisses down his collar bones as you sunk down onto his cock. he groaned into the car the music playing was too loud you wanted to hear him, hear the way he whimpered as you traced a hand under his shirt and over his nipples. “fuck” he groaned slamming his hand against the fogged window leaving a hand print on the glass. his hand slid down before gripping your ass again kneading the plush skin. he tugged you up and down before you leaned back offering space so he could see the way his cock filled you up. the new angle made you whine his cock brushing your sweet spot before pressing against your cervix. gravity achieving a new depth leaving you gripping his shirt. knuckles white as he fucked his hips up to meet yours. “shit shit” he pulled you to him as a car parked next to yours. he paused but you didn’t. you continued to grind against him swiveling your hips as you heard doors slam. his eyes rolled back as the person walked away. your cunt tightening around him as you circle your hips. “fuck what if they saw” he groaned face turning pink. “isn’t that the fun of it mark?” you smirked. lifting your hips to bounce over him again his head fell back “you’re crazy” he moaned. his hand gripping your waist slipped between you thumbing against your clit as you whimpered. the fast swirls heating up your insides as mark rearranged them. thrusting up into you with an irregular rhythm “you’re gonna make me cum” he whimpered. “that’s the point” you giggled. “shut up” he groaned. and you shut up when he sped up. skin slapping as he fucked into you, thumb and pointer finger pinching your swollen clit making your moan. mouth hanging open as you came and he quickly followed you, filling the condom. curses slipping from his lips as your cunt milked him. leaning down you kissed his neck sloppily. “fuck baby” he groaned when you lifted off of him. you rolled into the passenger seat legs spread swollen pussy on display. you brushed your fingers over yourself spreading your lips slick dripping still. “you’re filthy” he shook his head staring between your legs licking his lips.

his skin felt hot as you let your hand dance on his shoulder. fingers dragging water droplets around his skin. you let your hand go lower before fully submerging as you tapped against his skin. he stared up at you curiously a smirk dancing on his lips when you traced fingers down his chest and to his stomach. a light hand pressing over his swim trunks feeling a familiar hardness beneath the material. you smiled down at him gripping his member “you really want it?” renjun asked. you nodded tugging at the elastic “need you.” “you want everyone to look out of their rooms and see you getting fucked?” he questioned. you moaned in response letting go of his shorts to rub over your hardening clit. “little whore” he mumbled and it only made you go faster. you felt his hands gripping your ass kneading the plump skin. he grinded against you as you used your other hand to tug his shorts down. pulling his cock out your thumb sliding over the head making him sigh. he lifted you up while you tug your bottoms to the side quickly pressing the head against your hole. sighing with him as you sink down letting him fill you up. you groaned into his neck as he lifts you up and down on his cock. you planted your feet on the bench he sat on moving faster up and down. the jets pulsed around you covering the movement beneath the water; small splashes hitting the tile with every bounce. “can never have enough can you?” renjun groaned and his words made you whimper. you grabbed at his shoulders before your hands found the tile behind him, slippery and wet as you gripped it. “needy slut. you don’t care if they see you, you just want cock.” you shook your head bouncing harder on him moaning wantonly as his cock rubbed your sweet spot. “don’t care, want you” you whined. his fingers pressed against your clit smooth circles building your orgasm. “we should just come out here during the day let everyone watch you.” you moaned loudly as you came spasming around his cock. your bounces slowing but he still fucked into you as you shuttered over him. he kept his fingers circling your overly sensitive clit as he came biting your skin with a groan.

you kept your mouth tight, biting inside your lip to keep it shut. his fingers weren’t helping, sliding in slick between your legs. the movie flashed in front of you, your face lighting up with the screen. you glanced around the room full of your friends all focusing on the film, but you don’t even know the main characters name. jaemin’s hand had been down your shorts the entire time. you had lifted your hand to your mouth biting down into your palm to keep from moaning. every time he swirled his fingers over your swollen nub; thumb and pointer finger pinching down making your hips jolt. you could feel him smirking behind you as he dragged a finger down circling your hole. taping his finger, teasing the entrance and you could hear the wetness. it left you mortified slamming your face down against the couch. “don’t like the movie?” he asked, lips pressing against your ear. you shook your head feeling slick dribble out of you and down your thigh. you lifted your head up whimpering when he started moving his hand once more “gonna open you up. stretch your cunt so i can fuck you” he whispered. you wanted to whine, and cry, and kick your feet like a child, but your mind went blank when he finally pushed two fingers into you. your mouth formed an o shape as he plunged in, curling his digits into you. your legs shook around his hand making him frustrated. he pulled his fingers from you moving to wrap his arm around you. slithering between your legs not wasting time to fill you back up. you sobbed when he used his thumb on your clit working you closer to release. “you need to be quiet. do you want our friends to know you’re a whore?” your eyes shot open glancing around the room to see if their eyes were on you, but no one noticed you, or your legs spread open under the blanket, or heard the squelch of your wetness. “bet you want them to know” you whined into your hand. the knot in your stomach tightened your release imminent with each flick of his wrist. his other hand reaches to clamp down over your mouth as you cum shaking in his hold. he coos at you quietly continuing to milk your orgasm while you come down. limp in his arms he pulls out of you before lifting you to stand weakly. “y/n’s not feeling great we’re gonna go lay down,” jaemin announces before dragging you down the hall with a grin and sticky fingers.

his hands shook slightly as he tried to brush your hair from your face. you were too focused on grinding against him, panties sticky and wet on his sweats leaving a damp stain. his headset was still on mic moved from his mouth, but you could still hear his friends talking through the headphones. your hands brush from his shoulders to tug his sweatpants lower and peak at his hardening cock. trailing a finger over the head teasing his slit as you watch a bead of precum pump out. he sighs leaning back against his chair “baby” jisung murmurs. gripping your hips to slow you down. “can you see how bad i need you” you whine. fingers pressing to your damp panties covering your sticky cunt. “don’t want them to hear you” he says nodding his head to the mic. “just let me ride you i’ll be good” you murmur trying to move your hips again. “you have to be quiet” he whispers. one hand releasing from your hips to touch the damp material for himself holding back a groan. when you grind against his fingers you smile contentedly moving your hips against his hardening cock. the friction of the damp fabric and heat of his cock was enough for you, but jisung wanted more. he lifted your hips before tugging his pants lower letting you settle back down on his uncovered cock. he hissed when you humped against him staring down at your panties dragging against his pulsing member. “so good” you whined, gripping his shoulders to stay upright. he held your hips with one hand helping you drag against him. his other hand snaked between you tugging your panties to the side. your glistening clit peaking out sliding wetly as your slick dripped onto him coating his cock with each movement. his head rested against his chair, lips between his teeth blush painting his cheeks. you loved him like this and it was all because of you. your tummy tightened when you felt his cock twitch against you. “wanna cum” you mumbled. he took that as a challenge, gripping you tighter moving your hips over him swiftly. he angled his hips to offer more pressure to you, and it had you sobbing. your head lolling to his shoulder hips shuttering as you came with a whimper. you silently hoped the mic above you picked it up. he kept you moving against him as he stuttered praises in your ear before releasing on your pussy thick white ropes. you kissed his cheek leaning back looking at your soiled panties.

warm lips pressed against your shoulder blade, tongue sliding over your skin. you whined when teeth nibbled slightly. you reached behind yourself gripping his member making him hiss on your skin. pushing your hips back rubbing the tip between your legs over your cunt. “fuck me” you mumbled. he bit down on your shoulder as he pushed into you filling you up in an instant. “fuck” he groaned into your skin pulling your hips back to meet his own. you gripped the cool railing looking over the balcony at the busy city. thoughts racing around the idea of someone glancing up and seeing your dripping cunt being pounded. it had you clenching around him. “shit baby.” you fucked yourself back harder skin slapping rhythmically. you wear moaning unabashedly with every brush of his cock against your sweet spot. “gonna have the neighbors filing a noise complaint” haechan mumbled into your neck. you smirked as his hand slithered over your chest to grip your breast thumbing your nipple. “i’ll just blame you” your voice was rough and breathy. knees jiggly and weak legs shaking as he filled you over and over. his hand that was on your hip moved to press against your lower back making you arch beautifully. his eyes focused on the curve of your spine down to your ass and where he was buried inside of you. he brought his hand slapping against your ass making you moan loudly. you heard haechan chuckle behind you “you’re literally dripping” he smirked. he leaned back as he stared at the ground beneath you. your slick puddled on the floor beneath you. glancing down before bringing your hands between your legs collecting the sticky wetness on your fingers. swirling your hand over your cunt with a whine from both of you. your fingers splitting to a v shape around his cock. “such a messy cunt just begging for someone to watch you.” you whimpered clenching around him belly hot and full of fire. “you’d like it right? maybe i’ll invite someone over so they can see you whore out.” you moaned at his words as his thrusts were getting sloppy. both of you close to the edge, his cock fucking into you erratically nudging your sweet spot. your legs were shaking as you came, crying out as liquid spilled out of you. he kept fucking you until he came. cum dripping out of you to join the mess you had made on the tile.

you’d spent the whole day trying to rile him up and it seemed like he wasn’t having any of it. in a way it pissed you off but in another way it made you more determined. you hoped that flirting with someone at this club would make him show you who you belonged to. but he didn’t seem to care about you giggling at some lame jokes this guy was making. glancing across the bar at him, but he sat running a finger on his glass. you huffed walking back to your private table in the corner tugging the curtain closed behind you. you wanted to sulk but you didn’t have time. before you could sit down he was closing the curtain behind himself staring at you as he sat his glass down. “you’ve been a little brat all day.” you pouted lifting an eyebrow at him. “i was going to give in when we got home but your little flirting game changed my mind.” he walked towards you, backing you up until your knees hit the couch making you sit abruptly. staring up at him his fingers grazed your chin gripping your jaw to squish your cheeks until your mouth opened. watching him intently as he brought his face to yours before spitting into your open mouth. he kept it open watching the saliva slide down your throat before releasing your chin. “you’re going to be good for me now aren’t you?” chenle asked. you nodded quickly watching as his hands unbuckled his belt, sliding the leather out of the loops before squatting down in front of you. he held out his hand and you placed your hands in his palm; he massaged them before looping the belt snuggly around your wrists. “good girl,” he mumbled kissing your forehead. he stood back up unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down slightly. watching you as he took his cock out. it made your mouth water as your eyes followed his fist as it pumped over his member. he gripped your hair in one hand tapping the tip against your cheek with the other. your lips were already open and waiting as he slapped his cock against your face. he didn’t pause, plunging it down your throat your eyes immediately pooled. you pulled yourself to the edge of the seat to follow your head as he fucked into your warm mouth. he groaned and fingers tangling in your hair “such a whore.” he smirked down at you loving the way you gagged around him with each tug on your hair. “want me to go get that guy? let him see how good you are with your dirty mouth?” you whined vibrating around him making him moan. “you think this flimsy little curtain will keep everyone from knowing what a slutty brat you are?” he fucked into you harshly you felt your cheeks dampen as your legs pressed together. your cunt pulsed with need every word, every thrust into you made you want him more. “getting wet just thinking about it?” chenle asked, pulling out of your mouth with a squelch. spit dripped down your chin and onto your dress as you caught your breath. you kept your eyes on his, full of admiration. “let me see?” he pressed your shoulders back and you spread your legs showing your barely covered cunt. he tugged your panties down leaving them gripped in one hand as his other pumped his cock. you knew he was close and you hoped he would let you have it before he let go. he came closer pressing the tip into you as he groaned, and you whined feeling hot white shoot into you. you wiggled your hips for something for anything but he didn’t give it, pulling out of you he reached for you panties shoving the material in your messy cunt and you moaned up at him. he stood over you tucking himself back into his pants. he leaned down releasing your wrists and putting his belt back on. “keep it in until we’re home you understand?” you nod dumbly as he stands you up walking you out.

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papercorgiworld · 2 months

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I don't need space, I need you

Mattheo and Theodore fluff

Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!

Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!

A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛

Mattheo

“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.

Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?

***

“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:

A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test.

When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.

Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it.

Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.

Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.

So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.

This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.

“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before.

Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.”

You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.

Theodore

“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head.

***

You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance.

Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day.

The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.

Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!”

As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.

For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji

#mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #pepercorgiworldwritings

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azrielbrainrot · 3 months

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Whether in the solitude of his room or surrounded by family, all Azriel can think is that he would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide

Word Count: 3652

Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.

He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.

On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.

Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.

It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.

Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.

He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.

He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.

He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.

He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.

Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.

Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?

Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.

Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.

They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.

He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.

Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.

Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.

The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.

To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.

He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.

“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.

“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.

Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.

Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.

Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.

When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.

As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.

Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.

Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.

She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.

This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.

It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.

You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.

Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.

He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.

“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.

“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.

“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.

“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.

It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.

When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #divider by saradika

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writing-fanics · 4 months

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don’t mess with the devil

final chapter: I love you

Lucifer Morning X Human!Reader

Previous parts

The king sized mattress, seemed too big even for the King of Hell. He finally found someone to fill that empty space beside him, You. But now you were gone back home in the living world. Where you belonged. He hugged the stuffed, animal bringing it close to his chest. It lets out a little squeak.

It still smelled like you. Hells, he missed you so much it hurts. Your laughter, your voice, everything. He missed your sighs, when he would kiss your neck. He missed how you would tease him, and take his hat wearing it for a bit. You were a piece of Heaven in Hell, he never wanted to lose.

He remembered when you had gotten sick. You were sneezing and coughing, and wash hot. Your cheeks were flushed, and your voice hoarse. He never left your side, and only did to bring you the essentials. Soup. You got it. Water. No problem. Tea. Here you go my love.

He was at your beck and call, and you loved that about him. He would, kiss your forehead and rub your back. He’d figure out a way to get you ice. If you really needed it he would pay one of the, I.M.P’s to get you medicine in the living world. Demon medicine could and might possibly kill you.

Even though he thought TV, scrambled the brain he had to admit. Laying in bed with you watching, some shows was quite fun. Watching Disney movies and non Disney.

Hells. Tears trickled down his cheeks he missed you. You’ve only been dating for almost a year, and he already saw a future with you. Maybe even some kids if possible.

He wanted to-

“Oomph.”

A body landed on top of him, “Hi,” his heart seemed to stop beating, and he looked up from the stuffed animal. And there you were in all your beauty, looking down at him as if you were some angel.

You smiled, tears trickling down your cheeks. Finally, after so much trial and error you managed to make a portal to Hell. Leaving behind, a goodbye letter to your mother. Letting her know you’ll be okay. While also leaving behind a Hellphone, so she could communicate with you while you were in hell.

He thought that this might be some trick, some illusion trick by that red radio freak. He reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch. “I’ve missed you,” you said, placing your hand over his. He cupped your face in his hands so quickly, you didn’t have time to react crashing his lips on yours.

You gasped, before wrapping your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. “H-How did you?” You kept cutting him off with kisses, “Book of Magic,” you smiled, kissing him again. “And a little help from the magic you gave me.” You said, between each kiss your back being pressed against the mattress.

You smiled placing our hand on his cheek, “I knew not all of it returned,” He said, and you leaned up giving him a peck on the lips.

“I love you.” You finally said, and he smiled. Kissing you passionately, a sigh escaping your lips as he kissed your neck. “I love you too,” he said, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

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targaryenluvs · 6 months

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i have a request for an angsty scenario where coryo and reader are together and at the bombing in the arena instead of going to reader he goes to protect lucy gray and reader has to be saved by the peacekeepers or one of her classmates.

WORTH IT

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray (suspected), sejanus plinth x fem!reader (suspected)

summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.

warnings: angsty angst, yelling, mentions of cheating, crying, miscommunication and misconceptions

a/n: we do not condone the villainization of lucy gray in this house no ma’am - i think i’m horrid at angst so bare w me please

the roof was crumbling.

the bomb had blown you miles away from where you once stood and your body was aching. the rubble surrounded you and the only person your eyes were searching for was corio.

a flash of red and yellowy blonde darted towards the array of rainbows, lucy and corio.

you were forced to watch on as he tried his hardest to move aside the rubble that was crushing her, and not you. you were lying a few metres away yet his first observation was her, and his mind was on her, his hands too as he dragged her out from underneath.

his face was twisted in, anguish? confusion? he looked at lucy gray as if she was the oddest thing in the world before his eyes drifted to you, then behind you as sejanus pulled you out from underneath.

and as you were about to thank your friend the world faded from your grasp, heaving breaths and the sound of someone shouting your name being the last thing you hear.

the beeping was irritating you.

you thanked the machine for keeping you steady but god did it drive into your skull. as you opened your eyes, corio invaded your space, clutching your face in his hands and he worriedly looked over you, “are you okay? does it hurt? i’m so sorry i thought lucy was you i didn’t- i just saw her hair and- i’m so sorry y/n.” corio rambled as you scoffed. getting up you saw the room was empty, “your parents are outside, so is tigris and sejanus.”

you brushed him off as you approached the tv screen infront of you. lucy. and god did she look amazing. donations were pouring in and all of a sudden you understood why corio seemed so adamant on being with her, helping her. she was a gorgeous songbird and you were a dull capitol parrot. nothing special.

“she looks amazing coriolanus. i hope you win with her.” you spoke softly as your eyes began to tear up at the thought of him leaving you. “hey- i’m doing what we’re all doing, nothing more and nothing less. i’m trying to win here y/n/n, you know i need this more than anyone else.” you sighed, “i know, do what you must.”

corios eyebrows furrowed as you made your back to the bed but not before corio reached out for you. “hey, i’m sorry. you have no idea how scared i was when the bomb went off. the first thing i wanted to do was make sure you were okay but i didn’t have enough time to make sure the person i was going after was the right one. i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you. and i promise, you are the one that i want. lucy please.”

was that the sound of your heart breaking?

you raised your head up high, trying to stop the tears from dropping as coriolanus was for once, at a loss for words. you turned around and smiled, “have a nice time with her corio. three years of us down the drain for district 12 scum. she probably doesn’t even love you, wonder what she’ll do when you slip up.”

“and what’re you going to do? crawl to sejanus?”

and as he stuttered, trying to come up with an apology, your eyes teared up again you came to a decision.

he wasn’t worth it.

#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #lucy gray x coriolanus

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walpu · 3 months

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I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

#hsr #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #sub aventurine #reader insert #walp's writing

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bahrtofane · 3 months

Text

Jude misses his spanish class, and that somehow ends with the both of you stuck in a dark elevator, legs tangled and annoying each other till help comes

Word count - 3.5K+

Watch it - ur trapped in an elevator with jude, lights go out, you accidentally sock him, fluff tho hehehe

a/n - shout out to my bff best plooki for sending me the last jude pic, its what inspired this whole thing. nmout 3lik kho

—--

Jude is late to spanish class (again) so he's forced to sit for the staff ones instead. his mom will kill him if he misses any more, and his teammates will only tease him more. With the amount of promotional content and youtube videos he has to film soon, he literally doesn’t have the time to skip another class.

The only open seat is by you in the far corner, so he slides in as discreetly as he can. Which turns out isn’t all that discrete when all eyes are on him from the moment he steps into the room but it’s whatever. He'll live.

He pulls out his ipad and takes notes like the good student he is and pretends not to notice your gaze on him. He sits like such a teenage boy, legs spread and arms dangling over the table.

You haven’t been with Madrid all that long, you came along as an intern, eager to find your footing. Having one of the players all up next to you during class was not something you saw coming, you’ve met maybe one or two of them, after you got lost and ended up in the training facilities and they so graciously led the way out of the maze.

You’ve honestly been so busy with just getting settled you completely forgot the players existed. And here Jude is.

You stick your head back to your notes and hunker down for the hour left of spanish. You don't miss his stray gazes that land on you.

-----

Jude is a quiet guy you learn. He chews his bottom lip and blinks a little harshly at times. He's a pretty standard run of the mill guy and you try to treat him as such. He leaves you be, letting you have your space and pays attention to whatever the professor is saying in favor of talking to anyone.

When class is over you gather your things, slipping out from behind him and head to the elevator. Why the class is on the top floor you have yet to figure out. You like this elevator anyway, it's down the hall from the main big one that everyone crowds into, usually empty. Even though it lacks the big windows that overlook the pitches.

You see Jude jog to the elevator, you slide your hand out ,holding the doors open for him and he smiles at you in thanks, you smile back. It's silent save the hum of the elevator moving down.

Until it screeches to a halt, jolting the both of you so fast you land on the floor, legs tangled, things strewn all over the floor. Jude looks away while he picks himself up, helping track down your pens that roll across the floor. When you smooth your clothes down and find your footing, another jolt rocks the small metal box you're in.

Jude instinctively reaches out to steady himself, his hand landing on the railing beside you. You lurch forward and almost land right on him again. But you manage to keep your composure, and footing. Thank god.

"What in the world?" Jude asks, brows furrowing.

"I... I'm not sure," you reply, your heart still racing from the amusement park ride you never signed up for. Does Madrid not keep their elevators up to date on what is going on.

You both glance around the elevator, trying to assess the situation, and half waiting for another lurch. It's eerily quiet, and you notice the emergency button panel is dimly lit.

"Should we... press the emergency button?" you suggest tentatively, eyeing the panel.

"Probably our best bet" Jude agrees, reaching out to press the button. After a moment, a crackly voice comes through the intercom,

"Hello? Is someone in need of assistance?" a nasally voice comes to life. She sounds like your aunt kinda.

"Yeah, the elevator stopped suddenly, and we're not sure what's going on," Jude explains.

“Ah okay, which elevator? There should be a number and letter over the doors.”

“2C.” you real aloud.

"Perfect thank you. We’ll have people get to you as soon as we can. Please remain calm and stay where you are," the voice responds before the intercom falls silent again.

You exchange a look with Jude, both of you silently hoping that help arrives soon. The minutes tick by slowly, and the silence in the elevator becomes almost suffocating.

"So... Do you have any plans for after this?" Jude asks, breaking the silence. Even if its a little awkward.

You shake your head, grateful for the distraction. "Not really. Just some studying, I guess. What about you?"

Jude shrugs. "Probably just head back to my place if they don't need me. Training was pretty intense this morning."

You nod, "Sounds hectic."

"Yeah, it can be," Jude admits, scratching the back of his neck. "But it comes with the territory, I guess.

You fall into a silence again, playing with the hem of your shirt. Jude tucks his ipad under his arm and sighs deeply. Now that you take a good look at him, it looks like he booked it right from training. Slides and socks on, madrid shirt and shorts. Interesting.

You move to push the button again after what feels like ages, but this time the voice doesn't answer.

“What the..” you mumble. You reach for your phone but as luck would have it there is no connection.

Jude slides to the floor, sitting criss-cross applesauce and trying his luck on his phone.

“No signal either huh.” he grumbles.

“Nope, we really just have to wait on them then.”

“I hope they hurry it up, no offense.”

You shrug, ”none taken.” sliding to take a seat on the floor opposite to him.

Little do you know you're about to spend the next 4 hours in this elevator together.

—-

It turns out there is only so much small talk you can make in an hour with a total stranger. Trust, you know.

After telling your life story, and him his, you’ve both run out of things to say. So you sit, drumming against the metal walls, taking turns pressing the help button and being greeted with the sweet sound of silence each time.

“What the actual hell are they doing.” Jude groans.

“Ignoring us.”

You just might lose your mind. Your legs are starting to go numb, and you watch Jude grow more agitated as time presses on. Thankfully there's been no more lurches downward, a win is a win. You get up periodically to stretch your legs out, checking your phone, reorganizing your bag, playing rock paper scissors, telling each other stories.

Jude is a silly guy, very competitive even after your 10th round of tic tac toe.

“I win again.” He cackles.

You wave him off, “Yeah yeah it’s just luck.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he smiles.

He goes back to the red button, and once again there’s no answer. You’re half way to losing your mind. How do they just forget about you here? You try texting people, and nothing goes through. Jude walks around the little space, arm raised and pointing his phone up in hopes of catching a signal.

“Oh wait I think- never mind. Not even one bar will hold in here.” He slumps back down against the wall.

“I actually can’t believe they’re not answering.” You groan, head in your hands.

“Me neither. “

You resort to looking through your phone for any games to pass the time. But you need a signal for just about all of them. Might as well clear out your photos right? Jude joins, scooting next to you.

“Don't mind if I watch?”

You shake you head, “nah, just getting rid of old pictures.”

He nods.

Now you just have to be triple careful of not accidentally swiping through any embarrassing pictures. You don't thankfully, instead your room back home pops up, after you redecorated it. Zidane jersey hanging off your wall.

Jude perks up at this, “Zidane fan?”

“Very big one.”

He smiles, “me too.”

“I've heard. What's he like?”

“Zidane? Hm, he's well, elegant. Classy. He's a calm guy.”

You nod, tucking your phone back inside your pocket, turning to face him, “have you seen him play in a charity match with ronaldo?”

He laughs ,”yeah the one with that insane title, fat old ronaldo does hat trick.”

You giggle, “that's the one.”

He hums, leaning his head back on the wall and you fall into silence again.

More time passes and you don’t think you have it in you to reorganize your bag for another time.

“I have an idea.” you declare as you move into the second hour.

Jude raises a brow.

“Might as well do our Spanish homework right?”

“I might die.” he dead pans.

You roll your eyes, “its better than doing nothing.”

“Nu uh, no way. I choose nothing.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrug.

10 minutes later Jude sits down next to, pulling his ipad out and getting to work. You smile, “see, I told you.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, “can you help me on number 4?”

You do, leaning against him and walking him through the conjugation of each word, your fingers brush against the iPad screen and you hope he doesn't notice how you blush.

Hours in an elevator with Jude bellingham what is this a bad fanfic plot?

You end up finish the pages of homework side by side and Jude smiles

“That wasn't half bad actually, thanks for the help.”

“No problem. We make a pretty good team huh?” you tease.

He snorts, “I guess so.”

It turns out Jude is really bad at staying in once place, he does anything but keep still, throwing his slides at the buttons periodically, and one even hits the help button, this time the voice answers.

“Hello?” it's a completely different voice his time, male.

“Thank god hello.” Jude scrambles to get up properly, and you follow suit, leaning closer to the little speaker.

“I'm sorry?”

“We've been in this elevator for what, 2 hours now and no ones been answering the call button? Fucking ridiculous.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, we've been short staffed and I clocked in a few minutes ago.”

“For fucks sake, thats great and all but can you get us out?”

There's a pause, and for a second you think they're going to hang up and there will be no hope. You will die in this elevator.

Luckily for you the voice comes to life again, “would you like us to call the fire department?”

“What do you think?” Jude dead pans.

“We will keep you updated, but for now it's looking like a wait time of 45 minutes to an hour. “

Both of you groan, dramatically falling to the floor.

“You'd think Madrid would have better staffing,” he rubs his eyes.

“You think.” you agree.

“Im so gonna complain about this.” he squints his eyes at the buttons, almost like he's threatening them.

“Hey it could be worse, you could have missed a game.”

“Very true.”

He chews his lip before turning to you, a glint in his eyes, “Wanna play hot hands?” he tries.

“Sure why not.”

You shuffle so you're facing him once again, You're up first, palms up while Jude hovers his hands palm down over yours, and wow are his hands huge, completely covering your own. The name of the game is to manage to slap his hands faster than he can move them away.

And so it begins.

Unsurprisingly, Jude has keen reflexes, and you only shake your head at him.

“I'm at an unfair disadvantage, whereas VAR.”

He giggles, “VAR or no var, you're losing,” he shrugs.

It's just enough of a distraction to get you your first win.

“Lets gooo.” you celebrate.

“VAR immediately, time wasting, yellow card, red card, extra time.”

You smile, “you're just mad I won.”

“Yeah you won unfairly. “He sulks.

“Yeah yeah, your turn.”

He sighs dramatically, but puts his palms up regardless.

You're too focused on his hands, skittering at any movement, so much so you end up jumping and throwing your hands out so fast you slap him. Uh oh.

“Oh my god i'm so sorry, are you okay.” you reach out and cradle his face, a little red but nothing too bad thank god. You almost took out Madrid's star boy, you're just an intern, you do NOT have the money to fund any legal cases.

You don't even notice he's laughing, giggles bursting from his lips while you watch on. His eyes are big, oh my god, he's got those big brown beautiful eyes. People weren't kidding. He's even more handsome in person. You want to kiss him. Oh yeah you're holding his face, you drop your hands away and roll your eyes, trying to play off the blush that's spanning your face.

“I'm fine, don't worry. You got a mean arm, ever think of being a goalie?” he teases.

“I'm going to be Barcas goalie. How about that.” you shoot back, though there's no real bite to your words.

He only laughs harder, “hot hands really makes you competitive huh.”

“It wasn't my fault okay, you moved too fast.”

He only shakes his head, “I think you're the sore loser.”

“No but seriously, are you good?”

He waves you off, “nah i'm good seriously, you're fine.”

You sigh in relief.

He snorts, “no more hot hands for you.”

You squint at him, “I'm going to sleep.”

You make a pillow out of your bag and try to nap. Might as well at this point. Jude seems to share a similar idea as he lays down opposite to you, tucking his arms under him and screwing his eyes shut.

It turns out sleeping on the floor on an elevator is extremely uncomfortable, and you get about 5 minutes of shut eye before Jude somehow has his legs rolled into yours.

“ ‘M Sorry,” he mumbles. But you don't say anything, wiggling your feet back under his and trying to get some shut eye.

—--

At the turning of the third hour you get woken up by the crackle of the magic voice in the wall, “the wait is up about an hour to an hour and a half.”

“What's taking so long,” you huff, eyes still blurry from your sleep.

“We apologize for the delay but there's a back up in call logs and-”

“Yeah we get it you're understaffed whatever. Just please hurry up.” Jude bites back, nearing closer and closer to you.

The voice fizzles away and the sleep has worn off you, enough so to realize he's almost spooning you. You sit up, but Jude remains as he is, breathing soundly as he uses his hands to cover the harsh elevator lights that beat down on him. You're surprised the lights haven't-

You spoke too soon. Way way too soon. The lights go out within an instant and you almost scream, jolting against Jude.

This stirs him awake again, and he's oh so confused at the lack of lights. The secondary elevators are great, but there are no windows. Just solid metal on all ends. Leaving the two of you in complete darkness.

“Jude?’

You hear shuffling, “Yeah, I'm right here don't worry. “

“This is kinda freaky now.” you trail off.

“Hey, we'll be fine. Look on the bright side, it's easier to sleep.”

You snort, “Yeah guess so,” But the ease doesn't wear off of you.

“Here,” you feel Jude’s hands reach for yours. Feeling for them in the darkness till they're laced together. “Now it's not so bad right?”

You can feel your face heat up,“Not bad at all.”

“How sick would hot hands in the dark be? Just think-”

“Absolutely not.” you sigh.

He giggles again, teasing you is surprisingly very very fun for him. This is the most fun he's had all day. Every time you turn away while you blush only fuels him to tease you more. Out of all the people to be stuck in here with, he thinks he got pretty lucky with it being you.

But as sweet as you are, the situation only seems to get worse. He uses his free hand to feel for the button again, and the voice comes back.

“The lights just went off. I hope they're on their way.“ Jude speaks.

“The wait is about an hour.” the speaker says.

“My fucking god.” he sighs.

“Were supposed to wait in the dark, for an hour?” you can't believe it.

The voice mumbles another apology and Jude only tells them to go away if they’re going to be completely and utterly useless. And alone you two go.

—-

You start singing by the fourth hour. You're completely tangled in Jude’s legs, unable to even see what's in front of you in the pitch black darkness, but you can feel him. And it keeps you grounded, keeps away the panic. He pats your back while he sings stupid songs, trying to cheer you up and mind off of the situation as much as he can. The teasing doesn't stop, and you're starting to like it. (You liked it from the beginning).

If someone told you you'd be cuddling Jude Bellingham on the floor of an elevator in the darkness after class, you're pretty sure you'd call the nearest psych ward. But here you are. You think you’re sitting sideways on his lap, while he sits back to the wall, your arms tangled. You've started to trace shapes on his arms.

Who knew an elevator would be the perfect place to bond.

“You smell nice.” Jude mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You hum,” thank you.”

“You know, this is pretty nice. You're a good cuddler.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. my rooms a better spot though.”

You try not to freeze up too much, but you're sure he can feel you go rigid next to him.

“I bet it is,” you mumble into his shoulder

He laughs, easy and light, “You’re pretty cute too.”

“You cant even see me it's literally pitch black in here.”

“So?”

“You're silly Jude.”

“So i've been told”

You get comfy again, sliding a hand to his back and scratching lightly.

He melts within an instant, “that actually feels really nice…” he trails off, leaning against your shoulder.

“You’re like an overgrown puppy, “ you laugh.

He only snorts, leaning forward to allow you better access to his back.

—--

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the voice comes to life, and Jude is not in the mood.

“What is it?”

“The wait is now 10 to 15 minutes, please step back from the doors and do not be alarmed when the fire department needs to possibly force the doors open.”

“Finally.” You sigh, squishing your face into his neck.

“Finally.” He confirms.

After a few minutes. You hear the sound of footsteps outside the elevator and voices chattering.

“Alright guys, sit tight, should be a few minutes and you’ll be outta here.” A voice says on the other end.

“Alright.” Jude replies, gently getting up and separating from you.

“We’re gonna need you guys to step back.”

You do as much, trying to feel for your bag to kick it away from the door.

Jude rests a hand on your hip and you smile, even if you can't see it you bet he's doing the same.

The doors are manually pried open, and you're greeted by the sweet sweet faces of firemen and security.

"Are you two okay?" the fireman asks, helping you both out of the elevator.

"Yeah, we're fine. Just glad to be out of there," you say with a sigh of relief.

As you step out into the hallway, you and Jude exchange grateful smiles. Unsurprisingly people crowd to him and make sure he's all good. He waves them off instead pointing them in your direction. You insist you're all good, no injuries. After thanking everyone you slip away and begin walking down the hall. After all, you don't expect him to actually mean anything there. You just got stuck together for a while, and got comfortable. That's all.

You think this is the 4th floor? Down the stairs you go.

The man is full of surprises. He catches up to you, shouting your name and closing the door to the stairs behind him.

“Had enough of me?”

“Eh four hours seems like enough.” you shrug.

He rolls his eyes, “so you don't give me your number then if i ask?”

“Only if you ask nicely. And I don't even have a Spanish number yet, I'll have to get yours.”

(you want his number sooo bad you might explode, this can't be real.)

“Would you like to get my number then?” he scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy, ‘only if you want you know you don't have to just because the whole elevator thing i mean-”

You cut him off with a kiss to the check, “I'd love to get your number Jude. And thanks for being so nice in there.”

He looks to the ground, playing with his hands, “yeah anytime.”

You hand him your phone and he takes a contact picture right there, with the most obnoxious contact name to match.

‘the best elevator buddy Jude <3’

You smile, “I'll text you when I can, yeah?”

He hums, waving you off, slipping the door open with his foot and setting off in the opposite direction. What a day huh?

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to Truth or Dare

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Word Count: 5 k

Part 3: READ HERE

So many questions are left on Lt. Riley’s tongue as he finishes another cigarette and leaves the group of officers behind in the rec to make his way back to his quarter, the spectre's touch of your full lips still causing the skin on his mouth to tingle from the sudden lack of all that delicious pressure. There is so much he wants to make clear, even more he wants to do, but where to begin? It’s all so confusing.

As he lays down in his empty bed staring up at the ceiling, struggling to relax his feverish limbs as it still feels like he has been struck by a live wire, he fails to keep his wandering mind focused on his breathing to ignore the gnawing emptiness that is filling his chest from the absence of your presence. That’s when the questions start to roll in.

Did you feel something too? Maybe it was all just an act? Does that even matter if it was?

“No,” Simon mutters to himself through the silence to stop his train of thought from running rampant. He’s allowing himself to get distracted worrying about the unknown and that is something that will only cause more problems, but he is in turmoil.

Unsuccessfully he tosses and turns in the darkness that fills the space, his thoughts drifting back to that feeling of heat from the proximity of your bodies, the residual pressure from your mouth plastered to his, the look of pure lust in your gaze, and the gnawing compulsion of his fingers to get at your curves.

But this isn’t a lover’s island, there is a job to be done here and he has seniority. Maybe it is better to leave this alone where it stands; who knows what disaster could come from getting involved with another officer in such a capacity. And yet…

There is no stopping his mind from wandering ceaselessly back to those breathless moments where his lips fought yours for dominance with the mind-numbing electricity flowing between you, the attraction so strong it did not seem possible for you both to pull from it.

He has a problem and it isn’t going away.

Across base, laying in the dark in your own bed, your heartbeat pounding heavily in your chest, an ache runs its course throughout your limbs. There is a need for something to ease this overwhelming desire to be craved in a desperate, debilitating way, though you really don’t want to admit it. No, you don’t need something…you need someone. You need him.

You hadn’t been ready to admit it then, but there was a spark between you that is no longer possible to ignore now that you are alone, but you don’t know how to handle things any other way than to just ignore and move on; maybe the desire to have him again will die away if you just let it be. Even as the thought enters your mind you know it’s pure bullshit. There is no denying that things became complicated the second your lips met, that it was like igniting gasoline with a blowtorch. What was once mere infatuation that you could handle, has now grown into an untamed beast inside that leaves you feeling delirious and out of control.

Rolling onto your side, you convince yourself to leave all these questions alone and focus on something else, anything to get your mind off of what you would be doing with the lieutenant at this moment if you both had not been interrupted. As you close your eyes to force sleep to come, visions of a bare and glistening officer thrusting between your legs fills your subconscious and you hope the morning comes soon enough because sleep is going to be short tonight.

Luckily, life around base rarely stands still long enough for anything other than work to get tended to. Any hopes of exploring that tension and ecstasy has to be put on the back burner as life in the taskforce resumes its usual chaos. Daily operations keep your schedule packed completely full all week so that certain thoughts get pushed to the back of your mind. And yet, during those slower moments of the day, they come creeping back up just like they never left.

“ ‘ello?” Soap says as he waves his hand in front of your blank face. “Ye in there, lass?”

Your fork hangs limply from your hand, teetering over your plate lunch and threatening to fall with a clatter as you realize that you drifted off again. This is the third time this week that you have gotten so lost in thought trying to recall that feeling of the lieutenant’s lips that it’s becoming apparent to your fellow sergeant that something is off. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to clear your mind.

“What?” you shoot back at him as you stab the food and push it around the plate, pretending to eat even though you aren’t hungry.

“I’ve been talkin’ for a good five minutes and ye ain’t heard a word,” he says with a hint of agitation. His steady glare gives you the once over as he tries to read your face. “Where ye at these last few days, hmm?”

You mask your face behind your customary smile. “Maybe I’m just trying to imagine a more engaging conversation than the one I’m currently in,” you pick, but Johnny isn’t letting this drop.

His eyes are still on you, scrutinizing your body language even as you stare down into your food to avoid his gaze. From the corner of your eye you can see the gears turning in that mind of his as if he is trying to put things together. You let it go on a few more seconds before you speak up.

“You got a problem or something?”

“It’s just strange,” he chuckles and you raise an eyebrow as you tilt your head to the side. “It’s just…I was speakin’ to Gaz yesterday and he mentioned that the lieutenant seems…distracted…as well lately. Same vacant look ye got goin’ on. Ye wouldn’t happen ta know why, would ye?”

Your heart leaps with a strong thud in your chest. Just what the hell is he implying? You had been certain that Johnny knew nothing, but now you aren’t so sure. Maybe you aren’t being as convincing as you think. “Why the fuck would I know that?” you play it off as you swallow down the lump in your throat. “Do I just know everything that goes on with everyone around here? I’ve got enough on my mind then to worry about the rest of you lot.”

Johnny leans in a bit closer over his plate and lowers his voice as he says the next part, making your blood run cold. “Must be a coincidence then, that both a ye just happen ta be actin’ different at the same time, ay? Ye know, on account a tha other night.”

The heel of your boot immediately connects with his foot only hard enough to make him yelp and pop back upright in surprise. You always forget that Johnny is smarter than he lets on and it’s clear he has been paying attention. Too bad you will never give him the satisfaction of admitting anything. With a laugh he sits back in his seat as you stare him down before rolling your eyes.

“Why are you so worried about the lieutenant? Seems like someone’s a bit too obsessed and that can be a problem. You should probably talk to someone about that.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever ye say, lass,” he says, punctuating it with another chuckle as he tucks back into his lunch. “Whatever ye say.”

Firearms and ammunition is on the schedule for the rest of your day. It is your job to take inventory of all the munitions you’ll need for tomorrow’s end of week training. At least the repetitious task will keep you busy enough that hopefully you won’t be thinking about a certain lieutenant and what he could be up to right now.

At least that is the plan that you start with, but just as every other day this week soon that hulking officer begins to creep his way into your mind. Has Johnny been lying about how distracted the lieutenant seems lately? Could it be about what happened the other night or could it be something that has nothing to do with you? Little by little, it chips away at your calm until that is all you can focus on, even as you try and get through counting and gathering all the materials you’ll be needing for tomorrow.

There is no way for you to know, but at that exact moment there is someone coming your way with a burning question that needs answering.

All week Lt. Riley has gone about his days as usual, except try as he might to focus only on the tasks given to him, all he can do is mull over the same question in his mind: did you feel something in the kiss the way he did? It is eating him alive to know the answer and no matter where he is, who is speaking with, or what he is doing, the question is there to make him restless.

Until finally he has had enough. Just as the question overwhelms his mind again he throws down the work on his desk, shoves his chair back to get out, and leaves his office in a flurry. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but as he walks he passes by Captain Price’s office, the one person that would know where you are stationed today. Quickly he steps inside the doorway to ask.

Price checks his computer screen that has all that information already pulled up. “She has firearm trainin’ tomorrow with the newer recruits, so she will be takin’ inventory in munitions today,” the captain relays the information, curious as to why his lieutenant seems tense and sounds a little out of breath.

Before the captain can ask any more probing questions or mention to his officer that he will need to speak with him in a bit, the lieutenant heads off in a rush towards the munitions depot. No matter, the captain will let him conduct his business with you and send a messenger in a bit to bring him back.

Lt. Riley crosses the base with nothing else on his mind but to get to you and when he does he finds you are completely lost in your work, none the wiser that you aren’t alone anymore until it’s too late. You don’t hear that signature click that means the main door is opening, nor the careful, but heavily booted footsteps padding across the floor in your direction. Just a few feet from you he stops and stares silently, waiting to see if you notice his presence.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel a pair of eyes on you and looking up you come face to face with the person that was just on your mind. You can’t stop the way you hold your breath the moment your eyes connect as every involuntary process in your body gets interrupted by his sudden appearance. Desperately you try to regain composure and shake off that initial surprise; there is no need to make this awkward, it will only make things worse for yourself in the long run.

Clearing your throat, you shoot him a smile. “Sir,” you greet him with a nod and a slight tremor in your voice that you quickly swallow back down. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. Did you need something?”

The adrenaline makes your limbs tingle and instead of just standing there awkwardly as you wait for him to respond, you put your hands back to the task before you hoping to cause your nervousness to settle. If you have to stand looking into his face in the stillness of the room for much longer, you might combust and the risk of looking like a fool is enough to make you act out being too busy to give him your full attention.

Standing this close with the lingering feelings from the reaction that happened the last time you were together, the lieutenant is overwhelmed and it makes him pause. That same magnetism that he had felt that night is already pulling him to you, until his composure falls apart faster than he can calm it. Still, there is a question on the tip of his tongue that he is choking to ask; it’s the whole reason he’s here and he’s not leaving without an answer no matter what.

“I need ya to stop and look at me,” he says as he steps in towards you. You discreetly take a deep breath as you set your things down to turn your face back to look up at him.

He’s already scrutinizing your body language, focusing on any sign that might give him an idea of where your thoughts are at this moment. Those brown eyes catch how tense your shoulders are through your t-shirt, how your pupils seem dilated as you meet his gaze, and finally the way your hands tremble as they hang at your sides.

“I want ya to tell me the truth, yeah?” he says with a nod.

You stare back at him, big doe-eyes sparkling in the overhead lights as your pulse runs fiery hot through your limbs with the growing anxiety from wondering what the hell is going on. “Yes, sir?”

The mask covering his face clings a little too tightly and the clothing on his chest traps in the heat rising in his body, making his skin clammy as he struggles to vocalize that loaded question he’s had swirling in his mind for days. Lt. Riley clears his throat; he thought he’d come up with something better than this, but thinking clearly has long gone now. All he can do is just spit it out.

“Mactavish’s stupid fuckin’ dare, ya remember it? I keep thinkin’ ‘bout it and I need ya to tell me somethin’: was it all an act, the way we kissed?”

Fuck, how are you supposed to answer this?

There is warmth blossoming in your cheeks as the thumping grows stronger in your chest. His question is simple enough, yet there isn’t a simple way for you to answer. Tell the truth? Could you actually go through with something that risky? For all you know he could be asking just to tell you that the kiss is to mean nothing because it will never happen again, that he wants you to let it all go to clear the air of any misconceptions. You pray that that is not what he’s about to say, but as you silently think about how to answer, he pushes for you to stop avoiding the question.

“I need ya to answer me,” he says firmly, eyes never leaving yours. “Were ya pretendin’ or did ya not want it to fuckin’ end?”

A sharp inhale of air does nothing in helping to calm your nerves; you just have to get on with it. “I-it…wasn’t an act,” you say.

The lieutenant has his answer, that’s what he wanted, right? Just to hear you say that the spark ignited between you in those few ecstasy-fueled minutes were genuine; that is it, isn’t it? His curiosity is sated and he should be able to move on, but he can’t. With your confession comes something more, something that he can’t let go of, and that is now that he knows it was real he wants it again. It consumes him to the point that he cannot move away and instead steps in closer as he grabs your biceps, forcing you to move backwards until you find yourself against the wall directly behind you.

“Sir?” you ask to get his attention as he continues to stand there staring intensely into your face without so much as a sound. You hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by his presence since the night you two kissed, but now it is back to cloud your mind and set your pulse pounding through your limbs.

Your furrow-browed stare wavers as you clear your throat and repeat your question again. “Sir?”

Consequences are an inconceivable concept right now; the only thing playing in his mind are how fucking soft your lips look and how he desperately wants to get lost in them again. The sensations of reliving that experience from that night in the rec consumes every molecule in his body until there is nothing left inside him except for you.

He needs it, he needs it now, and as that deep, longing ache settles itself in his chest to cause his heart to pound so hard that he can hear the beat in his ears, he throws sensibility away as he moves to grab your hips firmly in his gloved hands.

“We really shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, his body pressing against yours as he draws you in. “Ya know it’s trouble.”

His actions don’t match his words and the contradiction causes your mind to falter on what you should do. Did he want this to end or not? Does he even really know?

“Do you want to stop, sir?” you ask timidly as your body begins to vibrate with the sudden, intense pleasure of his hands as they are back on you again. “You know we can just forget it; it’s really fine.”

One of his hands leaves the curve of your hip and travels upwards so that those long, covered fingers can string themselves through the strands of hair at the back of your head. “Who said I wanted ta forget, hmm?” he admits with his eyes firmly on your lips, watching as they part slightly so you can take quick, short breaths in and out. “Do ya think I wasn’t there, that I didn’t feel what was happenin’ between us that night? Ya think I could just forget all that? Do ya think I want to?”

His gloved thumb wraps around your face so that he can brush it over your bottom lip, letting the electricity pass through the fabric from his fingertips into your mouth. You gasp from the ache his touch leaves behind and he exhales heavily at your reaction. “Do ya know the fuckin’ power ya have over me after that? Shit, I’m riskin’ a lot just ta be here like this with ya again, knowing what could happen when we’re alone. All because ‘a one fuckin’ kiss.”

You swear if he doesn’t do something soon you are going to pass out; your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable. Only a small swatch of fabric covering his face keeps you both apart and yet you can still sense the heated air from his mouth as it sweeps across the delicate skin of your lips the closer he lowers his head.

He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves you to the point of insanity right now. No, if he was going to stop it should have been long before now. As his hands cling to your body, there isn’t any chance that he is going to let you get away. He needs you, he has to have you, and it has to be right this fucking second to ease the painful longing that has kept him up all week.

Lt. Riley is gone; in his place is a depraved being that only yearns to feel that overwhelming passion that you gave him once again.

“I need more of the way it felt,” he groans adamantly. “I need ya, now.”

Before you can properly react to his heart-stopping statement, the lieutenant frantically wrenches his mask up and completely off his face, not wanting to be hindered at all from you anymore. All you catch is a crown of short blonde hair as he lets the cloth fall to the floor, closes his eyes, and leans in without another word to harshly smash his juicy lips together with yours in a reckless abandon that makes your knees buckle.

Fucking hell it’s everything that he remembered and so much more; you taste like the best type of sin and he is ready to pay everything for it.

The force of his advance shoves your head backward into the wall as he takes your mouth with dizzying harshness, not hesitating to shove in his tongue to fill the cavity behind your lips to capacity. The tip of that wet muscle strokes across the roof of your mouth and the sensation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. If there was any doubt left in your mind, it has all dissipated now that his mouth is back on yours.

“Stop callin’ me sir. Say my name,” he forcefully demands in that husky, breathless tone, a yearning in his voice that makes your soul burn as he speaks those desperate words onto your skin. “Call me Simon.”

You break from his mouth, your lips instantly desperate to form the word and say it aloud. “Simon,” you moan and it breathes new life into his name that he could never have predicted he needed.

Pining you tighter to the wall, he overtakes you rougher and rougher until the harshness of his movements abrades the skin of your mouth to make it swell and bruise. Relentlessly he siphones the breath from you to keep him going. That moist air fills his mouth so that he can speak. “Say it again,” he orders in a growl.

It’s like honey as it rolls off your tongue and you can’t help but want to repeat it. “Mmm, Simon,” you whimper onto his mouth and goddamn the euphoria of having to swallow down the desperation in your voice suddenly awakens an insatiable ache that will need more to quench.

His gloves have to go, now, as his bare hands are burning to get their fill of your curves. Those thin pieces of fabric are hindering him from being able to connect with all that silky skin so that he can know what it feels like against his calloused palms. It is torment to be kept from all that ecstasy. Struggling to peel them off his fingers as he cannot pry his mouth away from yours at all, he finally frees those long, brawny digits and they waste no time in pawing wildly at your body.

Greedy fingers recklessly claw and tear at your clothing, searching for an opening where he can penetrate to find enough balmy skin available to fill his hands until he cannot hold anymore. Deliriously and without looking he rips the pieces of your uniform up until he can get underneath them and let his fingertips get that first touch he has craved nonstop since the second he had pulled away from you that night. Those hungry lips continue to overwhelm your own as Simon is able to grab the hem and his hands have finally found their prize.

Laborious panting breaths fill up the space between you as the roughness of his hands grip into your hips and square them up against his own, pelvis’ grinding together in search of as much friction as they can find. Only a few layers of clothing keep your bodies apart, but that doesn’t stop Simon from rutting against you and you matching his movements. There is nothing else inside your head except the overwhelming euphoria of his touch along the lines of your body and the growing bulge in his pants that drills into you harder and harder the more it grows.

No immediate danger is there to keep you both tame, no time limit looms over your heads that will force you to stop, and when two desperate things have nothing to lose, they simply let go.

Every single one of his senses is overflowing with all of you: the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your sweet breath in his mouth, the warmth of your skin brushing over his, the beat of your heart that he can feel through his fingertips, the sound of your quiet whimpers making his head spin. Goddammit you are eager, so willing to meet his advancements with everything you have; there is no question about what you want. And he cannot lie that he wants it too. You’ve both started down this path and there is no turning back; he knows it’s wrong, he knows he should stop, but he won’t.

You are in his veins, circling inside his mind, part of the very air he breathes; whatever risk comes with this could never outweigh the reward of getting to sate the hunger that has been driving him insane.

“Fuck it all,” he growls and suddenly his hands are under your arms and you are being hoisted up off the ground.

Your body reacts from pure instinct by spreading your legs wide and wrapping them around his broad hips, securing yourself to him with a clench of your thighs together. Simon knocks a gasp out of you as he slams your back up against the wall to use it for leverage, his body crushing yours as he begins to grind up into you with that throbbing, engorged cock that is straining to break the zipper of his pants.

Through your clothes he thrusts up into you with powerful strikes, hips rolling into yours over and over with desperation as he tries to get just a little bit more friction between your bodies. You use your thighs to help push yourself up off of him, bouncing over his crotch in response to mimic the way you’d fuck him.

Simon knows he shouldn’t go any further, that he should slow things down because this isn’t the place, but he won’t. Everything is already so close, but still not close enough. He needs the real thing, not this cheap imitation. Even in the haze of this delirious union, there is only one thing he knows he has to do.

He has to get you both naked.

Feverish fingers claw into the negative space between your bodies at the bottom of your shirt until Simon can find the hem. The cooler air outside of your clothing hits your skin with a tingle to make goosebumps appear as he pulls it up off your stomach and over the swell of your breasts.

“Lift up your arms,” he says quickly and your eyes flutter open so that you can follow the demand.

In one swift motion the shirt is off and Simon doesn’t waste any time in ripping off his shirt as well. The feeling of skin to skin sends shivers of ecstasy down his spine as he presses against you. So soft, so warm, fucking hell is he in over his head. He leans in, bending forward so that he can kiss the tops of your breasts through your bra as he hands wander again between your bodies to the clasp on your pants.

Just as his fingers loop through the waistband, you hear the tail end of it. There is no mistaking it, it’s the signature sound of the door to the armory closing shut. You have no time to act as a private with a message from Captain Price enters in a hurry, not paying attention, and stumbles upon something he shouldn’t have under no fault of his own.

“Lt. Riley, Price needs to see y–” the messenger says as he finally looks up, immediately stopping dead in his tracks as his cheeks flush bright red at coming face to face with the two of you half naked and twined together.

The private is tripping over his words as an exasperated growl shuts him right up. “Outside; now,” Simon barks harshly through a heavy pant as he turns his head enough to lock eyes with the now terrified private. Quickly the young man turns tail and bolts for the door, stumbling over his feet to get out as fast as he physically can. Once the click from the door closing shut is heard, those brown eyes turn back to you.

Simon draws in a deep breath before his head falls forward to rest up against yours, foreheads pressed together as he just holds onto you for a moment. “Goddammit,” he curses under his breath in disappointment.

Carefully he untangles his body from yours and sets you back down onto your feet. “Times up,” he repeats the phrase that ended your encounter the last time, though his tone is markedly more miserable this time, and you can’t help the way your stomach knots tightly.

Simon grabs all your clothing back up off the ground, handing you your shirt back as he goes to put his own back on. You immediately redress and straighten your uniform as best you can with your unsteady hands. Everything gets tucked back in place once again as you wait for him to head out without a word, since this seems to be following a certain pattern now.

But instead of simply walking away leaving you to agonize about if you will ever get a chance like this again, his arm reaches out and those long gloved fingers wrap around your belt buckle, gripping it tight in his hand so that he can drag you back against him. The other hand finds its way under your chin to force you to maintain eye contact with him; he needs you to hear him and make no mistake about what he is saying.

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs as he guides your head forward to place one last, lingering kiss on your lips before he breaks away to situate his mask back down over his face.

With that he turns and heads outside to the private patiently waiting to finish giving him the message from the captain. You let your eyes follow him the entire way out the door and only when he’s gone do you finally release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

This isn’t over. The words repeat on a loop in your mind. Fuck, you sure hope so.

Now the question is: when?

Tagging: @spooky-pomegranate

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flowercrowngods · 3 months

Text

it's yearning steddie get high with the others and make out about it hours (smut-ish)

Eddie hates being reminded that making promises to himself, and only himself, is pretty much useless if the only person holding him accountable to stick to his promise is one Eddie fucking Munson. Because that guy can’t be trusted.

Especially not when it comes to Steve and his stupid perfect hair, his stupid perfect dimples, his preppy fucking everything, and — perhaps most importantly — the breathy note his voice gets when the boy replaces his beautiful piece of brain with Eddie’s finest weed.

Steve in all his sober glory is unbearable at best, sure, that’s old news. But high? When the pained frown he’s not even aware of until he complains about a headache smoothes out and the tension in his shoulders disappears? When his scars no longer pull at every movement and he can hold himself again in the way he used to before everything — broad movements with a clumsy little edge to them that have Eddie’s heartstrings play rope skipping with his sanity.

That. That’s it. That’s it for Eddie.

And it’s no surprise that it’s also what leaves him helpless in the face of Nancy hopefully suggesting they get high again tomorrow night; all of them. Offering Eddie the chance at getting to see that tension fall away again, and that pale smile be replaced with an easy, genuine, lingering one — dreamy and so fucking pretty.

Luring Eddie with the most beautiful insanity.

So he says yes, despite having promised himself that he wouldn’t. Not after what happened last time. With Steve all the way up in his space, brushing his hair behind his ear with wonderment, trailing his hand down that lock until he forgot what he was going to say. What he was going to do.

Forgetting, too, that Eddie was sober, because he wanted to watch Steve without getting caught — but Steve, all high and sweet and tactile, apparently decided to do the same. He looked. And touched. And smiled and breathed and stayed right there. Fingertips dancing around the frayed ends of Eddie’s hair.

Something shifted — first between them, then around them. And then between them again when Eddie stepped back and turned away, in desperate need of a cool drink to stave off the feeling of being caught, of being trapped, of being so fucking gone on the prettiest god-damn boy in all of Indiana. And of having said boy look at him like that.

They shouldn’t get high again. They shouldn’t.

But he knows it helps with the pain like their meds never do; he knows it helps Nance sleep better, breathe better, exist in this post-apocalyptic world that doesn’t even remember the apocalypse, whose only reminders lie in the scar tissue of some teenagers and some graves that nobody knows are empty.

He knows that if he says no, they’ll find someone else to provide; and he doesn’t like the thought of that. Not one bit.

So it’s not even the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile that gets him to agree, nodding at Nance with an easy smile, saying, “Sure, let’s do it.”

But it is the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile, his breathy voice, his tactile nature that comes out even more when he’s high out of his mind like he knows he’s floating and needs someone to anchor him, and the memory of that stolen little moment, that makes Eddie curse himself to all hells once Nancy’s blooming smile is out of sight and he’s free of judgment to kick the kitchen counter beside him with a hearty curse.

He can do it. He can. All he needs to do is not stay sober this time, take the edge off and get out of his head about all of this, because he’s actually far less likely to do anything stupid under the influence, and also not look at Steve All Eyes On Me Harrington.

Easy.

Right?

Totally.

Except, as it turns out, ignoring Steve is both easier and harder than Eddie expected. The thing is, he’s good at diving into any conversation with just about anyone, making it larger than it needs to be until everyone in the room will give him funny looks but still roll with it, because Eddie Munson is just Like That, right?

But Steve doesn’t give him funny looks. Oh, they’re far from fun. There’s something in there that reminds Eddie of a kicked puppy in those fleeting moments that he lets his eyes meet Steve’s, never letting them linger, never letting them take him in and hold him and bask in the sunlight that is stored in those… Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. And that pretty, pretty face.

A face that shouldn’t look so sad.

He wants to ask what’s wrong, ask him if it’s a bad pain day, ask him if he didn’t sleep last night either, or if something happened. But how is he supposed to ask, to let any words come out of his mouth, when Steve just won’t look away. When he’s looking at Eddie like that again, when the little something that has shifted between them suddenly becomes massive enough to steal all the air away from his lungs and make his arms tingle in a way that he knows will only get better if he gets to wrap them around Steve.

He can’t. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. But he doesn’t look away either, and he knows he’s already lost. He knows he broke this promise he made to himself.

But it’s fine, maybe, if the slight twitch in the corners of Steve’s lips is anything to go by. Like he, too, wants to say something but can’t. Like he knows Eddie is the same. Like his heart is racing, too, and he tried not to look but they’re so stupid and looked anyway and now they can’t—

“Guys?” Robin interrupts their little moment, the bubble bursting with a loud snap of her fingers that makes Eddie physically flinch.

He looks at her, spooked to shit and gasping because he does not do well with sudden loud noises or the impromptu bursting of bubbles — not after everything that happened.

“Shit, sorry, oh my God!” Robin’s there immediately, reaching for his hand, Nancy laying hers on his shoulder, Jonathan making himself known with a gentle little, “You’re fine, man.”

Eddie regains his footing and breathes away the panic, thinking that maybe getting high today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He hands Robin the baggie and stuffs his hands into his pockets, making himself a little smaller by muscle memory alone.

Steve’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades — reassuring and warm. Like a flower, Eddie rises to follow it. He catches Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eyes and wants to rest his face against it. Wants to feel it against his skin. Wants to feel it shift into something deeper. Something real.

God, he’s so hopeless.

Good thing that Robin’s got the blunt under control, because Eddie does not trust his hands right now.

They grab the snacks and drinks and head outside to where Steve and Robin laid out pillows and blankets on the lawn, framed with dimly glowing white Christmas lights that Robin insists upon whenever they do this. Makes it feel a little less fucked up for her. Like we’re doing this because we want to, and not because we need it to sleep or to cope with the pain or whatever, you know? Put pretty lights anywhere, and it’s a choice.

Eddie has to admit that she has a point there, but the truth is he’ll smoke anywhere, fairy lights or no. Although there’s something, a capital-s Something about watching Steve framed by a thousand little lights smoothing out the worry lines on that beautiful face and making him seem all the more angelic for it.

Eddie actually called him angel once — the first time they did it like this. Made Steve smile like nothing else Eddie’s said to him since. Or anyone else for that matter. If he were any better at feeling the ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs, he’d call him that again. Make him smile like that again.

But the ground is shifting and air is always scarce these days, with Steve’s hands on his body so fleetingly, so accidentally leaving marks on scar tissue, making Eddie wish he could feel more of Steve’s warmth there.

Making him wish he could ask. Touch me higher. Lower. Longer. Make it last. Make it count. Let me feel it, just for a second. Let me feel it where they didn’t steal chunks of my skin and my soul and, apparently, my sanity.

Argyle is the first to spread out on the blankets with a hearty groan that leaves everyone with a fond smile, gathering around him in a semi circle of amusement. He makes grabby hands at Robin, or maybe at the unlit joints she’s safekeeping — but either way, she follows suit, cuddling up to Argyle and in turn making grabby hands at Steve, who does as he’s told and laughs in that gentle, melodic way that they so seldomly hear these days.

Steve’s eyes fall on Eddie then, but a surge of worry and panic overcomes him, half expecting Steve to follow Robbie’s and Argyle’s example and reach for Eddie next. Or not reach for him. Either way, Eddie doesn’t want to find out, his heart beating in his chest at the endless possibilities stowed away in his overactive imagination. Instead of waiting for Steve’s next move, he sits down right here at the opposite end of the blanket, reaching for one of the pillows so he can hug it to his chest and have something to hold on to, just to keep his hands busy.

“Just don’t crush the goods there, birdie,” he grins, watching Nancy and Johnathan find a place to sit, too. He scoots over to make room for them, moving further from Steve in the process and feeling the distance in his chest. It’s so stupid. Fucked up, really.

“Oh, the goods are plenty safe, my dude,” Argyle says, earning himself a giggly groan from Robin that sounds a lot like, Gross!

Jonathan throws a pillow in Argyle’s face, which he deftly catches with just as salacious a grin.

Eddie tunes them out for a moment as he catches Steve’s eyes boring into him. He cocks an eyebrow and inclines his head, silently asking him what’s up in way less magical a way than he has with Robin.

He doesn’t really expect Steve to react in any way other than maybe a shrug or a brief, reassuring smile that really has no meaning other than, I’m fine, except for all the ways you know I’m not.

But Steve doesn’t smile. And he doesn’t shrug. He keeps his eyes on Eddie and fucking pouts. Looks like he’s not even aware of it, his eyes a little glazed already, seeming far away. Far away and right here and looking so fucking sad about it. About the few feet between them and Eddie being all the way over there.

It’s a bit like the moment they shared earlier, with Steve looking so sad and Eddie wanting to do something about it. He couldn’t then. But now…

Eddie’s breath hitches a little as he mirrors Steve’s position, falling backwards and leaning on his elbows., never once dropping his eyes. Stretching out his legs until he can nudge Steve’s ankle with his foot. Watching as those eyes snap down to the briefest contact in surprise, watching as Steve looks caught. And watching, too, as his lips twitch and his foot slowly, incrementally moves closer to Eddie’s like he can’t help it. Like he needs to touch him. Always, always needs to touch him.

And Eddie can feel it there, so he doesn’t move away. He wants to hold his hand, wants to run his fingers through his hair and for Steve to do the same. He wants to breathe him in, wants to live in a Steve-filled world and feel welcomed in it.

But he can’t. Because they’re not like that. And because this moment is not like that. And Steve is… Well, he is like that, he’s pretty sure. But maybe not for Eddie. Maybe not like that.

Steve’s foot is warm against his, pristine white baseball socks so stark a contrast against Eddie’s; threadbare and black, with more holes than fabric these days. He can’t really help the wave of embarrassment that washes over him, or the urge to pull back his feet and hide them in his shoes again. Sacrifice the warmth for safety.

But then Steve seems to notice just a second after Eddie does, and he smiles. Huffs a little with it, like it just bubbles out of him. Eddie wants to lean across the blanket and chase it. Chase the fondness and keep it there forever.

And that’s another thing about Steve that is so very fucked up: he doesn’t let Eddie hide. He doesn’t let him trade warmth for security, because — smile in place — Steve slowly moves his feet along the side of Eddie’s like he’s playing fucking Connect the Dots with the holes in his socks. It’s ridiculous.

It’s ridiculous, and Eddie is helpless. He’s so gone, a hundred percent. He’s so fucked up over that silly boy and the way he smiles at the most lamest of things.

It’s not his fault that he leaves his feet where they are, the warmth of Steve’s slow, teasing touch shooting electricity up his legs that leaves him with goosebumps and a sudden case of uncomfortably tight jeans.

He’s glad there’s still a pillow in his lap. And he’s glad, too, that the night is dark enough, the fairy lights not bright enough, to reveal the flush rising to his cheeks as it feels like the bravest thing he’s ever done stay like this. To have Steve looking at him like this. Eyes hooded and intense. Like he sees right through Eddie. Like he likes what he sees.

With a dull click, Robin’s Zippo pulls him back to reality in what must be the gentlest of ways, and Eddie manages a smile as he watches her gently place the doobie between Steve’s lips before she lights it, one hand on his cheek. Their faces light up, leaving the rest of the world in the dark, and Eddie is struck with how good they are together.

There’s something in the way she lights the joint for him, some kind of love language from the girl who burnt down the hell dimension below them and left it in ashes, and the boy who held her hand through it.

She holds his eyes as the flame dies and something passes between them as Steve slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Takes that first hit.

Eddie’s smile falters as he watches, the glowing cherry coming to life and lighting up Steve’s face, revealing that relaxed little smile on his lips as he holds it in for five, six, seven before exhaling around it in a slow, drawn-out way. He blows it in Robin’s face like he always does, and Robin laughs and shoves him back, like she always does.

And Eddie wants to trade her place. Like he always does. Eyes transfixed on Steve as he takes the next hit and pulls the joint from between his lips. Holding his breath again. And Eddie wants to be held like that. Wants to fill Steve’s lungs like that, wants to leave an aftertaste that is both sweeter and biting as he does to Steve what that first hit does to him. Leaving him all soft and gentle and so, so at ease, his eyes droopy and all those lines of pain and worry smoothed out by him. Eddie. On his lips. In his mouth. Fuck, anywhere, really. Everywhere.

He follows Steve on his exhale, his head getting a little dizzy with the lack of air, but still he is slow to breathe in again. It feels strangely intimate, watching him like this. Watching as that tension falls away and he hums a little around the bud — relaxed and relieved and appreciative. It feels like they’re the only people left in this town, in this state, maybe in the whole world.

Eddie wants to stay alone like this forever, chase Steve’s breath and wish it would hit his face like that, caress his cheeks until the air around them claims it and erases all traces of Steve; but not from Eddie’s skin. Never from his skin.

But they’re not alone. And Steve opens his eyes. And Eddie is caught.

Still he doesn’t move, doesn’t look away as Steve blows out the smoke, sweet and earthy in the air between them as it slowly finds its way to him across the blanket. He imagines that he can feel it as the smell grows stronger, imagines the smoke to feel warm against his cheek as he breathes it all in, holding those hazel eyes in the dark that refuse to look away from him.

It’s like that moment the other day in Steve’s kitchen when he was so close Eddie could smell all of him, frozen as he was, rooted to the spot — too scared to move and reveal himself, reveal all of himself, all the ugly truths and dreams. His wishes. His desires.

Why do you keep looking? Eddie wants to ask. What are you looking to find? Am I just an experiment to you, are you looking at yourself through my eyes? Say something. Anything.

But Steve doesn’t. He never does. Steve Harrington isn’t really the type to just say what’s on his mind, too used to Robin by his side to just read it all and react in her own way. Too used to Dustin, who’d do the talking for him. Too used to just letting his eyes, his arms, his posture convey his message.

Too used to people knowing him. Getting a good read on him. But not Eddie, because Eddie never learned how to fucking read people like Steve Harrington cast in pretty light and relaxation. Angry, he can read him no problem. When he’s pissed, when he’s annoyed, when he’s sad. Tense. Worried.

But not this. Never this. This intensity, this steady gaze resting only on him. He never looks at Robin like that, and he doesn’t fucking look at anyone else lately.

It’s driving Eddie insane.

It’s too much.

He snaps when Steve passes the joint back to Robin, and sits up to pull his feet back to himself, covering them with his hands to pretend the warmth is still there. Frowns at the holes in his socks, feeling more exposed than ever. He curls in on himself a little, pretending to be very fascinated with a little thread that’s come loose in the blanket beneath him while the others hold casual conversation around him.

This was a bad idea. He’s so fucked.

Part of him debates if he should leave, if he should just call it a day and bid them goodnight. The other part of him wants to just close the distance between him and Steve and settle in beside him so the weight of that gaze won’t fucking wear him down any more.

But knowing Steve, that wouldn’t work.

Knowing Steve, nothing works.

Feeling pathetic and small, Eddie lets himself fall to his side, hiding his face behind Nancy, whose hand comes to rest in his hair, combing through it just a little bit. Allowing him to collect himself. This isn’t new, and they don’t really question when Eddie just randomly lies down anywhere, or if he just stops talking all of a sudden.

It’s why they do this, after all. No judgment. No questions. Just the sweet, sweet release of Mary Jane.

It helps, having her hands in his hair like this, grounding him. It helps, finding no question or worry in her eyes as she looks down at him with a little smile — her way of including him in the conversation. He smiles back, just a little bit, and closes his eyes to better focus on her hand rather than the moment. She chuckles when he begins to purr, and then the smile stays a little longer.

After a while, when she offers him the joint, Eddie shifts to lie on his back and gazes up to find the clouds have cleared and revealed the night sky behind them. It’s pretty, the summer sky, and he takes a long drag trying to think of nothing else. A hot wave of smoke hits his lungs, and it tickles a bit just like it always does, but the urge to cough it back out has been gone for years. These days, his lungs allow the warm embrace of the smoke and allow him to hold his breath as long as he wants, feeling a pleasant buzz after the fifth drag. It’s the good stuff after all. Munson’s Finest.

He passes the joint back to Nancy, too comfortable to get up and pass it to anyone else, trusting her to do it without complaint. She does. She’s an angel like that. Puts her hand back in his hair and plays with his overgrown bangs a little while Eddie just stares up at the sky.

Steve’s talking, but the words don’t really translate. It doesn’t matter, though. Just hearing his voice is enough for Eddie to sort of drift into a pleasant sphere of nothingness, his chest tightening a little with it. Always, always tight when he hears that voice. Like his heart has grown three times its size and his ribcage didn’t get the memo that Eddie Munson is hopelessly, helplessly, endlessly gone for a boy who refuses to look away.

The thing is, Steve has always looked. Always. Even in the Upside Down. The first time, and the second. And then, the third. And Eddie wants it to mean something. Wants it to mean everything, or at least carry that possibility.

But there’s no way to find out. There’s only him and the stars and Nancy Wheeler’s hand in his hair after his life took several wrong turns that left him with more scar tissue than skin these days, and the horrible realisation that, after the world ended and rebuilt, he can fall in love. That he can want. That he can have these cravings that he’d always heard everyone else talk about, wondering if that was just another layer of freak to him, or if he was simply Like That.

They’re lonely realisations, he finds. Alienating, in a way. Because not only does he not know how to navigate Harrington, no, he’s a riddle even to himself right now.

All he knows is that he wants to touch. To hold. To kiss. To crawl into him, on top of him, beneath him, and pull his own name from those lips in tiny little gasps that have nothing in common with the frantic gasps of panic after their first stint with the hell dimension. He wants a do-over. He wants a chance. A real fucking chance to have all these smiles, all these looks mean something.

Arm outstretched, he reaches for the blunt again, taking it from whomever has it right now, aiming to shut off his brain a little more. Not to suppress it, but to shut it off. Even if that means he has to finish this thing. It’s fine. They have more. They always have more, because Jon and Argyle have an unreal fucking tolerance.

With a chuckle, Nancy bypasses his hand and puts the joint between his lips and ignores his indignant hum.

“Treat yourself”, she says, her voice wonderfully slow and lower in pitch. “I’ll be right back, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

The warmth of her hand leaves his scalp, and with her body gone — getting up in way too swift a motion even for sober people — the night air seems a little colder. Eddie shivers a little, refusing to look at anyone, and just takes drag after drag, deciding he’ll finish this one. It’s his weed after all.

By the sounds of it, Robin is already lighting the next one. Good girl. Smart girl. Best fucking girl in the whole wide world.

Thick clouds of hot smoke waft through his lungs and all the way through his body up to his brain, leaving his arms and legs with a tingling feeling and his head with a pleasant buzz and tunes out most everything else around him. It’s great. It’s good. It’s wonderful.

It’s why he doesn’t realise that the air is warm again and a body shielding him from everyone else until there’s a hand in his hair again. He opens his eyes to snark at Wheeler, but—

It’s not Wheeler. It’s Steve. Knees pulled to his chest, chin resting on top as he smiles down at Eddie.

Neither of them says a word, but Eddie’s breath hitches. Stops, stutters. Just like his heart. And yet all he can do is stare up. Wonder if it’s real. Wonder if it’s real.

“Is this okay?” Steve whispers, fingers barely touching Eddie’s skin as he sort of plays with his hair.

After a beat or two, Eddie nods, careful not to move too much. Careful not to chase those fingers and all the things they could mean.

“Good.”

And then Steve pulls the joint from between Eddie’s lips, and Eddie wants to warn him because this one’s close to the end and bound to be stronger, but it doesn’t seem to faze Steve as he just sucks in the smoke like it’s the first lungful of air he gets after a long day stuck inside. Smiling around the bud as it dies between his lips, he presses it into the grass beside him, extinguishing the last of it.

He exhales, and Eddie can make out a tiny cloud of smoke against the night sky, watching as it wanders toward him. He waits for Steve to say something. There is what feels like intent in the movements of his hand, in the sudden appearance by his side, and in the way he— he fucking looks at him again. The sky is full of stars, the backyard full of fairy lights, and Steve Harrington is looking at him.

“You okay?” Eddie asks at last, breaking the silence, wondering if his voice always sounds so small, so quiet, so endlessly tiny. Wondering if Steve even heard.

But he did, because he smiles again. He did, because his hand stills. Touches Eddie’s skin. His scalp, his temple.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking from Eddie’s eyes to his own hand with something akin to wonder. Or marvel.

And Eddie shivers again when that hand travels down. Caressing his cheek, definitely with intent. Electricity shoots through his body again, and the intensity in Steve’s eyes leaves him with goosebumps. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare. Barely even swallows as Steve bites his lip absently and moves on, trailing from Eddie’s cheek down to his...

He’s touching his lips, and Eddie doesn’t breathe. Steve runs his forefinger along Eddie’s bottom lip, and in another world would he open his mouth and nip on his fingers or gasp at the touch and be better at this, be so much better at everything. But in this one, he lies motionless as Steve just fucking… explores.

And his touch is so light, it’s so gentle, so sweet on the rough scar tissue, and yet so absent, it doesn’t have to mean anything. He could pull back his hands now and claim that Eddie had something there. He could pull back and live his life unchanged. Leave Eddie behind in this state of paralysis, changed irrevocably, and be safe.

But that’s not what Steve does.

Steve was never one to choose safety over bravery, and he has the scars to prove it now. The permanent stiffness of his back that barely lets him feel anything these days. The set in his jaw when he breathes through the pains phantom and real, the crease between his brows when the memory pains flare up.

But his back is hunched in comfort now rather than in pain, and his shoulders are at ease. His lips are lightly ajar around a barely-there smile, and the skin between his eyes is smooth. Eddie wants to reach out and trace it, wants to caress it in the hopes that it’ll stay smooth forever.

He’s so pretty. Golden light catching his skin in all the right ways, leaving him positively glowing with that look he gives Eddie. That look.

Eddie’s never felt so exposed. So vulnerable. Laid bare, ready for dissection and willing to be taken apart in the hopes of letting him find what he wants and take it. Rip it right out of his chest. Now that he has Steve’s hand on his skin in the lightest of touches that’s anything but fleeting, he knows he would let him take anything he wants. Knows he would be helpless to stop him.

Helpless in the face of that gaze that trails down to his lips now, if only to follow his fingers.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, barely moving his mouth at all around that single syllable.

Golden hazel eyes flit back to his, and they widen a little. Like suddenly it’s Steve who’s caught.

What are you doing? Eddie wants to ask. What are we doing? Don’t stop. Never stop.

But words are for moments lighter than this one. Words are not meant for a world that’s changing.

Maybe that is why Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s chin, tipping it up and turning his face toward him in a gesture so tender it’s almost possessive. Electricity shoots through Eddie again and the air between them is sizzling with it, sizzling because Steve is moving, shifting, dipping his head, his hand coming to rest on Eddie’s throat to keep him from moving away — except there is no force in his touch, and Eddie could still run.

He could. He should, maybe. Like last time.

But he is suspended in time, chained to the ground by the weight of Steve’s gaze and the hand on his throat, and his heart is beating so hard, so fast, that he is sure Steve can feel it. Imagines that those fingers move to find his pulse. Imagines that they find their home there, imagines that they hear the tales of stolen hearts and desires that leave his blood rushing.

Imagines that Steve falters a little, hovering just above Eddie. Dreams of it all, dreams that this is real and that he can have this, just for tonight. He nods, and it’s a tiny little thing, far from enough to ruin this moment or wake him from his dream.

But then Steve captures his lips with such care that Eddie snaps back into his body and realises that this is no dream. Steve is kissing him. Hovers above him with one arm resting in the grass above Eddie’s head, his other hand pulling Eddie’s face towards himself and being oh so gentle about it.

A whimper escapes him when this new reality settles inside his body, leaving him reeling and pulled towards a world of possibilities as those lips, those warm lips, rest so indulgently against his.

No longer chained, Eddie carefully lifts a hand to Steve’s head, because Steve can feel him there, too, and because he doesn’t want this to end. Because he needs to touch. All night, all week, all this time he has needed to touch. To cradle. To hold.

To keep.

Steve hums, and those lips pull into a smile before closing around Eddie’s bottom lip. The first touch of Steve’s tongue has jolts of electricity and arousal zinging through Eddie’s body again, lingering this time and making a home in his legs that begin to tingle with want.

Eddie opens his mouth, tilting his head a little to get a better angle, and is rewarded with the careful, addictive touch of Steve’s tongue against his. It makes Steve smile again, just for a second — but long enough to make Eddie’s heart jump.

He chases those lips when they pull back, capturing them with a little hum as he realises he comes more and more unchained, regaining feeling and control over his body, his mind, his scared little heart. Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, pushing Eddie’s head down into the grass again with an urgency that Eddie is beginning to understand matches the hunger he’s feeling.

The hunger that is reserved only for Steve. It leaves him breathless, leaves him with the sudden need to gasp for air, but then Steve’s tongue is in his mouth again and maybe he doesn’t need to breathe ever again.

He loses himself in the wet slide of their tongues that feels so sensual it’s almost obscene, and all he can do is tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair and keep him right where he is while Eddie himself lies boneless, all the blood rushing down, down, down. Every nip of Steve’s teeth as he devours Eddie so entirely and yet so innocently, so sweetly, so carefully, and every time he sucks on his lips or his tongue results in another wave of intense arousal. And Eddie is stuck in the riptide of it.

It doesn’t take long for the first moan to break the silence, a gasped little thing, almost like an afterthought, and he’s not sure if that was him or Steve; but he doesn’t really care either way, because he’s so hard, he feels like he can come from just Steve sucking on his tongue alone.

And isn’t that an enticing thought.

“Steve,” he whispers, not entirely sure what he’s going to say, or if that’s really all he needs to say. All that’s left to say. Steve, Steve, Steve.

The only response he gets is a breathy little, “Fuck,” and it sounds like a revelation. Like an epiphany. And Eddie wants to hear it again, wants to swallow all the little noises and murmurs and everything Steve will give him.

“You’re so—“ Steve begins, interrupting himself with another deep, hungry kiss. “Fuck. You’re…”

“Yeah?” Eddie counters, breaking the kiss by pulling on Steve’s hair a little. “I’m what?”

Steve hesitates, panting breaths dancing over Eddie’s skin and he smells so fucking good. Eddie wants to lick the aftershave and perfume and sweat off his neck and keep the taste on his tongue for days. Dark, blown eyes wander over his face, and the hand that was on his throat comes up to rest on his cheek again in a gesture so gentle that it almost gives him whiplash. The hunger is gone — or, not gone, but unimportant now.

Steve smiles, hazy but genuine and so, so sweet, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s no doubt swollen lips.

“Been wanting to do that forever.”

Eddie’s heart jumps, falters, falls. Just a little. Just the rest of the way. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna kiss you forever.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie breathes, voice barely there because his breath has well and truly been taken away, and this moment feels so fragile. So easily broken by quick movements or thoughts that are just a little too loud, just a little too soon. “‘M not gonna stop you.”

Steve’s eyes snap back to his, and there’s something in there that not even the weed could ease away. “Yeah?”

Eddie nods, frowning a little, wondering what makes him so unsure.

“Cool,” Steve says, and it’s almost nonchalant and definitely charming in that way he always is. Makes Eddie laugh a little, his other hand coming up to wipe a strand hair out of his eyes. “So…” He trails off.

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stay here? Or go inside, or…”

And then it’s not arousal that overcomes him but worry. And guilt. And a bit of fear, because that’s not what this is for him. Not like this. Not when they’re high, not for the first time.

He swallows, schooling his face to cooperate and not give it all away right now, not give away how helplessly gone he is for that boy and how he would do anything Steve wants, how he would take anything he can get and try to make it be enough. But instead of choosing the easy thing and betraying himself, he moves his hand from Steve’s hair to his cheek, melting at the way Steve leans into it, moving his face to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm.

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is shaky again. And small. So, so small. “That’s not what this is for me. I don’t… I wanna kiss you forever. And more. Much more. But not… I don’t—“

“Not while we’re high? Inebriated?” He says the word with a chuckle, referencing the way Robin will always use big words when she’s hammered. There’s a gentle sort of understanding on his face after the chuckle, though, and Eddie melts a little again. “Wanna do it right, hmm? Wanna treat me right and make sure I won’t regret it, angel?”

Eddie whimpers at the sudden use of that nickname, because he’s not, but he does. He didn’t realise until Steve said it how scared he was — is — that Steve will regret this. The kiss. And anything that might follow.

Not trusting his words right now, he can only nod, wondering if his eyes are as blown as Steve’s are. If Steve thinks he’s pretty, too.

“God, you’re unreal,” Steve whispers, coming down again to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, brushing them down to the tip of his nose. He leans into those kisses, tips his chin up to chase it, but Steve pulls away again, his thumb tracing the pout he leaves behind on Eddie’s lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie grumbles, watching the delight on Steve’s face and deciding that he’s addicted now. Fuck the weed, fuck everything else. Steve can get him just as high.

Along with that thought, reality works its tendrils into Eddie’s consciousness again, and he looks around the backyard around them — but there’s only him and Steve out here on the blanket, framed as they are by the fairy lights.

“Hang on, where are the others?”

Steve huffs, his face shifting into an expression of fond amusement and gentle annoyance. “Last time I checked, Robin and Argyle were raiding the fridge, Nancy was lying on the living room carpet, marvelling at how soft it is, and Jonathan was just kinda spaced out on the couch with a bowl of chips. Don’t think they’re gonna come out here again in the next half hour or so.”

“How convenient,” Eddie grins, wondering just how obvious the two of them had been all this time. Wondering, too, if it can really be that easy. If he can have this. If they can; after everything they went through.

“Hmm,” Steve hums, his body shifting so he’s half lying on top of Eddie now, positively vanishing any and all thoughts Eddie could have spared anyone else. He would worry about the hard-on he’s sporting, but it becomes obvious very quickly that Steve has the same predicament. It’s enticing, feeling him against his thigh like that, and Eddie has half a mind to do something about that, especially when Steve keeps shifting against him. “So. Do you wanna make out some more before we light the next baggie? It’s fine if not. We can just… I don’t know, cuddle or something.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling on his hair a little bit to underline his deadpan. “What about I wanna kiss you forever was unclear?”

“Hey, I said that first,” Steve retorts, digging his fingers into Eddie’s sides, making Eddie squeal and squirm right into his arms. “I also kissed you first,” he continues, sounding so damn smug about it. Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. “So I’m winning.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Steve all the way on top of him, his hands finding his way to those magnificent thighs, so firm underneath his grip. “‘M feeling pretty lucky right now.”

“You think you’re so smooth,” Steve hums, dipping his head to hover just above his lips.

“Is it working?”

“Unfortunately.”

They’re both laughing when their lips meet again, but that doesn’t deter them from kissing and tasting and swallowing moans like they’ll find new purpose in each other. Like they’ve already found it.

Just like Steve’s hand finds his, weaving their fingers together and pressing him further into the grass. Eddie holds on tight, not ready to let him go anytime soon, and marvelling at how sensitive his hand has become.

There is no urgency in the way Steve slowly begins to move against him, grinding their crotches together in slow, sensual motion like waves of the ocean gently lapping at the shore. Eddie meets him right where they both need it most, not once breaking their kiss even when it becomes open-mouthed panting and moaning that the other is trying to chase and swallow and keep only for himself.

“You feel so good,” Steve rumbles, catching Eddie’s tongue between his teeth and pulling a high-pitched whimper from him. “So fucking good, Eddie.”

“Don’t stop, Stevie, fuck.” He’s panting, his legs tingling with want and need and a weightlessness he’s never known before. “I know I said— We can stop. We can stop, we can, but— fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Steve taunts, and oh, there’s purpose now in the the way he’s lifting his chest off Eddie, putting his weight behind the way he’s grinding into him. “You gonna come in your pants, baby? While the others are still inside? Means you’re gonna do this with me again later, right? Try again when we’re not high, hmm?”

“Yes,” Eddie rushes to say, working his fingers into Steve’s belt loops to keep him from stopping. “God, yes, I wanna—“

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, kissing the words right out of his brain, chasing his own pleasure, too. “God, you’re so pretty. So fuckin’ pretty, Eddie. Wanna come with me?”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie can only nod and moan around all the words he wants to say, all those cheesy fucking words that leave him all the more vulnerable for how true they are. The tingly feeling builds in his legs, climbing to his core, and he wonders for a split second if Steve can really make him come like this — worries that somehow it’s not enough and that he’ll ruin this, that he’ll fuck it up and make it awkward between them because he doesn’t actually have any idea how his body works when someone else is taking the reins.

But then Steve kisses him like that again, sucking his tongue into his mouth, holding his hand and groaning when Eddie moves in just the right way, and the sizzling pleasure finally finds its release.

Eddie comes with a broken groan that Steve swallows greedily, panting into his mouth as, shortly after, his hips begin to stutter in their movements and he follows Eddie off the brink of this beautiful madness. Steve was always beautiful, there’s no question about that. But like this, face slack, kiss-swollen and spit-slick lips open around a silent moan as he grinds his trapped cock against Eddie’s, wrecked with aftershocks as his orgasm washes over him? He’s a fucking revelation that makes Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his skull, over sensitive as he is and yet so helpless against Steve’s aborted little motions.

Getting high on weed doesn’t compare to getting high on Steve. It’s a high Eddie wants to chase forever, and he starts by wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him down onto his chest again, just to hold him. Steve purrs as Eddie’s hand finds its way into his hair, combing it away from the sweaty skin it sticks to. He cages him with his legs, too, tingly as they remain on either side of Steve’s body.

It’s stupid, maybe, and a bit much, but he wants to keep Steve like this for a little longer. Putty in his hands, his weight on top of him grounding him after that high, and allowing them both to come down slowly.

“Man,” Steve says after a while, just letting that word hang in the air as he regains conscious thought.

Eddie hums, prompting him to say what’s on his mind even though he’s scared he won’t like what he’s about to hear. Still, it’s only fair to let Steve say what he wants.

“I like you so much.”

Eddie holds his breath as he waits for the but. For the regret. But none follows. That’s really all Steve’s saying; and soon Eddie can’t fight the wave of giddiness that overcomes him.

He hugs Steve a little tighter, not entirely ready yet to look him in the eyes and face this new reality they’ve kind of just created, needing to be a little scared for just a bit longer. But still he laughs, because scared is no longer all he’s feeling. There’s so much more now. So much more.

“I like you so much right back.”

Now it’s Steve who hums, shifting to lift his head and look at Eddie, but Eddie closes his eyes before Steve can catch them.

“Said it first again.” A hand lands on his cheek again, just above the ugly scars that Steve doesn’t seem afraid to touch. “So I win.”

And Eddie is looking now. Dares. If only to drive his point home when he says, “God, you’re so fucking lame.”

“Is it working?” Steve grins, and Eddie never stood a fucking chance.

“Unfortunately.”

@izzy2210 here you go darling hehehe 🤍

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the spicy six get high together #spicy six #yearning hours #yearning hours but make it smut #steddie smut #i like this one so much #high yearning makeout fic #this takes so many turns and i blame the flu for it actually #tone consistency?? don't know her #dio words

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lipglossanon · 14 days

Text

Dirty Little Secret

Stepson!Leon S. Kennedy x Stepmom!Reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pseudo incest, cheating, loveless marriage? lol, mommy kink, breeding kink, mentions of lactation kink, dirty talk, noncon, slight somno, mention of a rape play scenario, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✍️ just smut

title from Dirty Little Secret by The All American Rejects

You thought it was love. This guy wined and dined you then showed you the world. So when he proposes to you only three months into your relationship, you’re so smitten that you agree before he even finishes asking.

It must’ve been the honeymoon phase because a year later, you’re stuck at home while he galivants around the globe for his business. It’s not like you have a hard time, but you’re lonely, done begging for attention from a man who apparently just wanted someone to live in his empty house while he’s gone.

Then after months of stilted phone calls and cut short video chats, he drops by only to surprise you with a son from a previous marriage. Something you knew nothing about. After introducing Leon to you, he leaves him there—some flimsy excuse of letting you two get to know each other—and is off again once more.

Leon smiles at you as his dad leaves, “Sorry to drop in like this.”

Your frown smooths out as you take a deep breath, “Not your fault, sorry if I’m off kilter. He didn’t even tell me about you til now.”

You wince after saying the words out loud but Leon only laughs.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay out of your hair as much as possible.”

You wave your hand, “Don’t be silly, it’ll be nice to have company again.”

He smiles again but this one makes you feel a little more on edge, something about the way it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Well then, I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire.”

You settle into a new routine, Leon fitting into your day to day pretty easily. He’s sarcastic and mouthy, but it beats only having yourself for company. Your husband dropped off his son in late January and it’s now early May; it’s like you blinked and realized you haven’t even had anyone else visit except for Leon’s actual mom. (She’s surprisingly a sweetheart and quite helpful even if she makes Leon all moody to have her in your shared space).

It’s after one such visit that left Leon in an irritable mood where you decide to have a little movie night in order to cheer him up. You’re unsure as to what started it this time, but the ex missus just gave you a quick smile and wave goodbye as Leon stormed off upstairs. Taking in a deep breath, you rap your knuckles on his closed door and listen for any movement.

Half a minute passes by before you hear him walk over and open the door. You take in his sweats and loose white tee. Good, it doesn’t look like he's headed out—you tilt your head before looking back up into his face.

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, a corner of his lips ticking up into a half smile.

“Wanna watch some shitty horror movies and order pizza?” You smile, pleased with yourself when he drops his arms.

“Sure,” he shrugs, tossing his phone back onto his bedspread and pushing you away from his door, closing it behind him, “w’nna order a cheese pizza?”

“Sounds good,” you lead him back downstairs, flopping down on the couch and grabbing your phone.

Leon sits on the cushion next to you, leaning over to watch as you scroll through the app.

“Want any sides or anything?” You ask, attention still on your phone.

“Pizza’s plenty.”

You feel his breath ghost across your neck and it sends a chill down your spine. Scrunching your shoulders up, you laugh and bump against his side.

“That tickles, Leon,” you shift a little and you feel him move to face the television.

Once you place the order, you lock your phone and sink into the couch. Leon’s close enough you can feel his body heat, but you know if you move he’ll end up next to you again. It’s something you’ve noticed over the time that he’s stayed here; you’ve only brought it up once and he admitted he likes being close since he misses his mom.

You frown to yourself as Leon channel surfs, not wanting to start any movies only for it to be interrupted by the delivery guy. For him to miss his mom so much, he’s always pissy when she visits. Maybe he’s just salty that she let him end up living here with you? Glancing over at him, he notices you looking and shoots you a grin.

“Have any idea on what movie we start with?”

You return his grin and drum your fingers against your thigh, “Hmmm, you ever watch Spookies?”

He shakes his head, “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

“The worst but in the best way,” you laugh.

He studies you for a moment.

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

Giddy warmth bubbles in your chest, “Of course, Leon. I know the situation probably isn’t ideal, but I’ll take care of you.”

He laughs low in his throat, “We’re nearly the same age.”

You wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, but I’m still older though.”

Lapsing into a companionable silence, you mindlessly watch as Leon zips through different shows until the doorbell rings. After stuffing your faces with pizza, you settle in comfortably on the couch, feet laying over Leon’s lap after he tugged your legs away from you.

“No reason to stay curled up like that,” he pats your calf.

Unsure how to feel, you eventually relax into him. If it doesn’t bother him, then why should it bother you? The heat from his lap must lull you to sleep because the next thing you know is blinking your eyes open to some random movie playing on the tv. Another beat and you groggily glance down your body at the new weight pressing you into the cushions.

Sandy blonde hair fills your vision as you feel Leon softly suck a nipple into his mouth. Without you noticing, he has pushed your flimsy shirt up and tugged your bra cups down. Squirming under him only leads to him sighing softly, eyes fluttering shut as he licks around your stiff peaks.

“Stop, stop,” you pant, feeling sluggish and out of sorts, arms and legs feeling wooden as sleep tries to cling to your senses.

Leon only laughs and goes back to softly sucking on your nipples, mouth drifting from one hard bud to the other with quick swipes of his tongue.

“But mommy, you said you’d take care of me,” his low voice raises the hair on your arms, “mmm, and what I really need is to suck your sexy tits.”

There’s no denying the rush of slick that fills the gusset of your panties.

“S’wrong, Leon,” you counter, weakly crying out when he gently bites your nipple.

“Maybe, but I think you need this, need me to take care of you. After all, my dad’s not going to,” he growls and roughly sucks the puckered skin around your stiff bud, “you need a husband who wants to stuff your hot little pussy.”

A loud keening moan leaves your mouth before you can clamp your lips shut.

His eyes are bright as a grin lights up his face, “See? C’mon, no one has to know that you let your stepson dick you down on the couch.”

Hips jumping, you mewl as he goes back to lapping at your nipples, hands coming up to grope the soft fat of your breasts.

“Been waiting for this,” he murmurs into your sternum, mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses across your skin, “fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, mommy.”

The condescension in that one word makes you drip, pussy throbbing for more than just words.

“W-we shouldn’t though,” you try to get a grip on yourself, hands hovering over his hair, “god, I’m married to your father.”

“Is he here? Is he ever here?” He raises up and sneers at you, “never around when you need’em huh?”

Raising up onto his haunches he gives you a nasty smirk, “But that’s why you have me now. I’m gonna pound your hot little pussy day and night. Maybe it’ll even make you a real mommy.”

“Leon!” You gasp, nipples tightening at the thought, hands digging into the couch.

But he’s telling the truth. Your husband is never home— hasn’t called you back and barely replies to texts. You’ve been lonely and neglected even before Leon got here; so what if it’s wrong? It won’t kill anyone just to go along with him this one time. So that’s what you decide to tell him.

“This one time,” you whisper, biting your lip as you give in to him, “just once.”

He laughs, “Sure, I can work with that.”

Once turns into twice.

“It’s still just the one time,” you pant as he fucks into your squelching pussy, face mashed against the armrest of the couch, “it’s still the same round.”

“Sure, mommy,” he murmurs in your ear and you clamp down on him tighter, “whatever you say.”

Which turns into three and four and then five…

By the next afternoon, you're bouncing on your stepson’s fat cock in your own marriage bed.

“Fuck, fuck, I need it, please, I wanna cum,” you whimper, grinding down onto Leon’s dick, “please.”

“Take it then, mommy, take your son’s cock deep in that little pussy,” he growls, thumb rubbing your clit in tight rough circles.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, eyes rolling back as Leon’s fat tip kisses your cervix, “god, it’s so good.”

“Yeah? Better than dad’s?” Leon asks, flashing you a smug little smile.

“Uh huh,” you whine, hands pressing on his broad chest so you can ride him harder, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

“Goddamn,” he growls, grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back.

Pulling halfway out, he bullies his cock back into your sopping wet hole, pace fast and hard making you wail as he rams against your g-spot.

“Tell me mommy, tell me who’s making this fat pussy feel so good,” he pinches your nipples, “c’mon mommy, say it.”

“You,” you whimper, tears clumping your lashes, “you’re making mommy’s pussy feel so good.”

“Who?”

“My son,” you cry out as he tugs your nipples roughly, “my son’s filling my pussy and making me cum.”

“Good girl, mommy,” he coos mockingly and you squeeze his cock, pussy walls snug and wet around his thick length.

“I’ve given you so many creampies,” he sighs, “fuck, I hope one of them takes. Wanna drink your milk.”

You shudder, hips stilling, “That’s so—”

“Hot?” He slaps your thigh and you start grinding on his cock again, “these tits leaking milk for me would be a dream come true. Let me breed you, mommy.”

“I can’t,” you mewl, clit throbbing as you rock your hips into his thrusts, “can’t get knocked up by my stepson.”

Leon groans, “It’ll just be the one time. Besides, I’ve been dumping load after load into this tight little cunt. We both know you want it, mommy. Making that pussy crave to have me stuffing her to the brim.”

You lean forward, face pressing against his neck as you moan brokenly.

“I shouldn’t,” you hiccup, hips writhing as Leon reaches underneath you to grip your ass.

“It’ll be our little secret,” he humps your pussy, cock knocking against your cervix and making you squeal, “let me breed you, mommy. Let your son breed your fat pussy.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur, mouth panting and drooling against his skin, “oh god, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Next time, I want you to fight me,” he whispers in your ear and you moan, “fight me so when I pin you down, I’ll be raping your hot wet pussy until you cream all over my cock, mommy.”

Your nails dig into his back and you scream, orgasm wiping out your thoughts as your body thrashes under Leon.

“I’m cumming, fuck, mommy, gonna fill you up again,” he rambles, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy as you continue to orgasm.

The last thing you see is Leon’s blue eyes staring down at you as your pussy milks his cock while he spurts rope after rope of thick cum inside your clenching hole.

You wake up sometime later with Leon running his fingers along your arm and shoulder.

“You okay?”

You hum and nod, stretching out along the bed, feeling a slight twinge in your hips.

“May’ve over done it,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

Leon laughs and drops a kiss to your head.

“Yeah I got that after you passed out.”

Giggling, you turn on your side to face him.

“Need to drink more water I guess.”

He nods, a funny sort of smile overtaking his features.

“You’re not gonna tell anyone right?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Why would I? Even if we’re both adults, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be happy it happened.”

Sighing, you push up until you can swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

Standing up, your thighs shake but you’re able to walk over to the en-suite bathroom. At the doorway, you turn back to see Leon staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. You bite your lip knowing what you’re about to say isn’t a good idea, but what the hell. You’re already in it this far.

“If you wash my back, I’ll wash yours,” tone flirty as you smile at him.

Not waiting for an answer, you walk into the bathroom, listening as the sheets ruffle from Leon climbing out of bed to follow you.

#pseudo incest #stepson!leon #stepmom!reader #fem!reader #stepson!leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #resident evil fanfiction

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