#she just would be. and find it very overwhelming.

[sturnlsstuff]

GENTLEMAN | matt sturniolo

loser!matt x partygirl!reader

matt gets dragged to a party, when he meets the "party queen" who definitely doesn't find him terribly boring like he thought she would, which she makes sure he understands.

requested by @mattsobvimyfav . divider credits. @anitalenia

— warnings; smutty smut, sub!matt, soft!dom!reader, making out, blowjob, riding, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, whiny matt (hot alert), pet names (pretty/good boy, baby, sweetheart...) cursing, praise kink lowkey, mentions of weed, cigs and alcohol, — english isn't my first language.

women like you were out of the league for guys like matt. you were a typical popular girl, partying every week and not like normal people did. you were the queen of the dance floor. party queen, that's how people called you. everyone with eyes and a brain admired the graceful way you carried yourself around. never missing parties, always staying until the very end, usually your friends had to carry you out of the building due to the excess alcohol in your blood and inability to stand on your own feet. when you were telling a joke, everyone laughed. when you were taking shots, so did others, that's how convincing you were.

you could have any guy you wanted, but no one was perfect for your standards. you were admired by girls who wanted to be like you and guys who wanted you.

matt was one of those people. he admired you.

he didn't know you well as a person who kept away from people. he was an observer type, only talked to his closest friends, of whom he had few. maybe even a little shy, that's what people called him, but really when he felt comfortable? he could be so interesting.

he had never talked to you before, only ever heard about you or knew what he had noticed. matt wasn't the party type, usually was practically dragged out of the comfort of his room. he didn't like looking for adventures. and today? some girl that his brothers were friends with, and that matt knew by sight, had a birthday and of course chris and nick once again dragged him out of the house for the party, ignoring his complaints. so that's how he found himself in this house full of rich, drunk kids, loud music blasting in his ears, every now and then someone would trip over his legs, causing him to roll his eyes. he sat half the party on the couch in the corner of the main room, arms crossed and beer in hand. he really wanted to go home, but his brothers would kill him if he didn't last until midnight. half an hour left.

unable to bear it any longer, he finally goes outside where the music was a little muffled, giving him the feeling of getting to breathe again. maybe that was the case. being surrounded by so many people was overwhelming. he lights a cigarette, which was his little addiction but helped him relax, and leans against the wall, praying that the minutes go by faster.

he started getting more and more relaxed, finally at peace, tilting his head back and blowing out clouds of smoke until he heard giggles. his eyes immediately opening, noticing you and your two friends coming out from behind the building and walking crookedly towards him, you searching for something in your purse. he would recognize the party queen everywhere.

"... i can't find it!! i swear i had it!!" you laugh, giving up with whatever you wanted to find, your purse slips off your shoulder just by the front door of the house, right next to where matt was standing. he automatically bends down and hands it to you, drawing the attention of you and your friends to him, which makes his heart beat faster. "oh helloooo, thank you," a smile appears on your face, that brings a slight warmth to his cheeks.

"yeah, no problem," he tries to keep it cool, scratching the back of his neck nervously. you look at your friends, gasping playfully, "ohhh, maybe this gentleman will have a lighter—" your gaze goes back to his blue eyes that were now wide. "do you have a lighter??? i think i lost mine!"

"a what— oh—" he snaps out of his trance, staring too hard at you which makes him blush even more. you were so beautiful. he clears his throat, "yeah, uh, i have one..." he hands it to you, your friends giggling at his nervousness, while you thought he's being really cute. "here you go."

"you're a life saveeeerrrrr," you're about to start searching for the cigarettes but he's quick to pass his own pack to you. "oh god, you're like an angel," your grin widens as you take a cigarette from him, putting it between your lips and lighting it up.

"girlll, my song is playing! can you hurry up?" your friend complains, causing you to roll your eyes.

"just go, i'll come in a minute."

"you sure?"

"yeah, go," you repeat yourself and stand next to matt who was leaning against the wall against, his heart pounding in his chest. he could feel your perfume mixed with... weed, perhaps? you give him the lighter and cigarettes back with a simple 'thank you'.

you both stand next to each other in silence that was starting to weigh on him, but he wasn't able to speak first. you both smoke your cigarettes when you finally look at him again. dressed all in black, a beer in one hand, on which you notice tattoos. oh, he's handsome as fuck.

"so" you speak up, getting his attention. "does this gentleman have a name?"

he smiles shyly, overwhelmed by your beauty. "i'm matt."

"matt," you repeat, tasting his name on your tongue. "i like it. suits you."

the way you repeat his name makes him feel both uncomfortable and strangely excited at the same time. he rubs the back of his neck nervously again, blowing out the smoke, just as you say your name too. he gives you a glance, "i know."

"oh, do you?" a smirk appears on your lips as you take another drag. he replies hesitantly, "well, i mean... who doesn't?"

you nod confidently, "right." your eyes travel to his tattooed arm again, feeling your stomach twisting in knots at the sight. he catches it and looks down at his arm as well. "i like them. make you look hotter," you confess.

he blinks, caught of guard by your words. he wasn't really used to people, especially not girls like you, saying things like that to him. mostly because he barely was leaving his house. he feels his heart race, a warmth spreading through his chest. "thanks."

"of course," you respond casually, checking him out once again before looking away with a small smile and taking another drag of the cigarette. you were slightly high, not really that drunk yet and you knew what you were doing. his awkwardness was so cute, there was no way you'd let this man go so quickly tonight. you actually felt like you need to have him.

matt finishes his beer in one swing, putting the empty bottle aside, causing your attention to get back to him.

the more you looked at him, the more he reminded you of someone, but there was no way you talked or even seen matt before. though, you decide to ask, "wait, don't i know you already?"

he raises his eyebrow, locking eyes with you. "me? i don't think so." i would definitely want you to, he thinks.

"oh, 'cause i feel like i do. or maybe you just remind me of someone—"

"i'm a triplet. you probably know my brothers."

"ohhh, wait—" you snap your fingers, trying to remember. "yeah, chris and— and nick? oh, now i know. never seen you before though. lowkey thought they're bullshitting about being triplets."

matt smiles amused, taking one last drag and throwing the butt of the cigarette on the ground, trampling it with his shoe. "yeah, m'not really out going."

"i see," you nod, smiling back. "i'd definitely remember you."

he chuckles softly, feeling his face warm at your words again. damn, get your shit together matthew. "really, huh?"

"yeah. with this looks and that—?" you point at his tattoos. "i promise, i would remember."

you didn't feel like beating around the bush, you liked him. he was extremely handsome, his hair looked so soft you wanted to run your hand through it, his eyes made you weak in your knees and his lips begged to be kissed. not to mention the aura he had around him, he intrigued you. matt was different than the rest of those assholes you met at parties.

he looks away shyly, the smile on his face makes your heart flutter. literal butterflies — something you've never had before.

you finish the cigarette in a comfortable silence, getting slightly overwhelmed after the weed you smoked before. leaning against the wall, your shoulder brushes against his, drawing his attention back to you.

"you good?"

"mhm, it's that cigarette, give me a second."

he nods, watching as you throw the rest of it aside. "okay. jus' don't go passing out on me."

"hey, i'm not that drunk i can even stand on my hands if you want. look—" you're literally bending over in front of him, hands on the ground, and you're ready to do it, but he quickly grabs your waist, forcing you to straighten up. matt tried his hardest not to look at your ass and the way your short dress rode up. his pants suddenly start to grow tighter but he ignores it.

"you better not—"

with a giggle, you turn around to face him, the feelings of his hands sends a shiver down your spine. "i could easily do that."

"sure," he raises his eyebrow, the blush on his cheeks only growing because of the closeness. "i don't think i'd know what to do with a drunk and unconscious party queen on my hands, if you did that."

"right, okay." you bite down on your bottom plump lip, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "but what would you do with a slighty tipsy and definitely conscious party queen on your hands, hm?"

his eyes sparkle with amusement, heart rate subtly increasing at your promixity. "well, that's a pretty open-ended question," he replies, his voice low and gentle. "depends on the party queen personality and how she's feeling."

oh, he's funny.

"and if the party queen is feeling perfectly fine and have the best personality ever?"

the air between you two suddenly feeling charged with an unexpected, but pleasant tension. matt could feel himself getting more and more worked up. he tried to be the gentleman that handed you the purse a few minutes ago, or gave you a cigarette and a lighter, but it was getting hard. especially now, when he realizes his hands are still on your waist and you don't seem to mind at all.

"oh, in that case i'd probably just try to keep up 'n hope her great personality doesn't find me too terribly boring."

"nah, i think she finds you pretty intriguing actually." you tilt your head to the side, eyes dropping to his lips before moving back up. oh, those lips.... "and if she wanted to show you just how bad?"

he swallows hard, "you mean, hypothetically... if she wanted to show me she's interested?"

"mhm, yeah. exactly what i mean," you lean in, giving him time to push you away, but he doesn't. oh, he would never. he wanted you so bad, knowing he's just one of hundreds of your simps, but it was the last thing on his mind right now. all he wanted is to feel your lips on his.

and he finally did.

closing the gap between you two, you kiss him softly, what he does too after a moment. his initial hesitation melting into reciprocation as your lips move against his. his hands, unsure at first, eventually move down to your hips, pulling you gently closer. your fingers tangling into his messy, soft hair, pushing him slightly against the wall, getting a hum in approval. matt starts relaxing against you, letting you set the pace and tone for your interaction. as you take your time, he finds himself growing more comfortable and excited. he would never think it would happen. with you out of all people.

the kiss starts getting more and more heated, you grow slightly impatient, feeling the ache between your legs starting to grow. you press your body closer to him, hand traveling up and down his chest, your tongues dancing together. once he feels how gently you bite his lip, a small whine leaves him, your mind spins and definitely not because of the amount of alcohol or weed you've consumed.

you break the kiss, both of you panting as you mutter against his lips, "come with me, yeah?" getting a weak nod in response, you're fast to make your way back into the crowded house, dragging matt behind you by his wrist.

his palms start to sweat as you take him upstairs and reach some empty room, pushing him inside. the noise of the party fading behind you two once you kick the door shut and attack his lips again.

matt is overwhelmed but in the best way possible. his senses are filled with your sweet scent, the tension growing in his pants with each second. his eagerness showing in his tentative exploration, but offset by an earnest enthusiasm. he lets out a soft sigh into the kiss, surrendering to your lead. he hits the bed and falls onto the mattress, you climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. he gasps softly as your weight presses down on him in the most distracting and exhilarating way. his hands instinctively find their way to your hips again, gripping slightly as he tries to adjust to this new position.

breaking the kiss, you start trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, his head tilts back unconsciously, giving you better access to his skin. his whole body shivers at the delicate touches of your lips, a soft moan escaping him as you hit a particularly sensitive spot, sucking on it to intentionally mark him.

his reaction brings a smile to your face and you look up to see him in such a cute state. messy hair, cheeks reddish, his pink lips swollen from the make out as he lets out heavy breaths.

"look at you, pretty boy."

his eyelids flutter open, revealing pupils dilated with desire. matt touches the mark on his neck lightly, fingers tracing where you'd sucked. "that's..." he clears his throat, feeling his face flush even more. the way you look at him is both intimidating and incredibly hot.

"hm? you like it?"

"y-yeah, that's really... good," he admits.

you just couldn't help yourself, he was so majestic, really. the way he was clearly trying not to rush or throw himself at you, makes you want to give him all the pleasure in the world so he wouldn't be able to forget about this evening, no matter how hard he'd try.

"want more?"

his eyes darken slightly, voice hoarse with lust, "that wouldn't be really... gentleman of me, hm?"

you smile, finding him amusing. "oh, but i'm proposing this to you, not the other way around. so...?" you whisper against his lips, "how it's gonna be, baby?"

this time he captures your lips in a kiss, wanting to show you how much he wants— no, craves you, hoping this is enough of a response.

a wave of heat washes over you, hands traveling under his shirt which steals another whine from matt. you had never been so turned on before in such a short amount of time, automatically starting to move your hips and grind down against him, feeling how hard he was beneath you. pride overwhelms you at the feeling of how much he's affected by you, the want for him even bigger than before.

his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. he can feel you moving on his lap, the friction driving him crazy. your tongue explores his mouth, lips clicking against his. his hands shaky on your body from the desire he felt. "you can touch me, matt..." you pant against his plump lips, pressing your clothed, soaked core against his dick harder.

"y'feel so good..." his eyes are glassy with lust as he looks up at you. his chest is heaving, and he bites his lip, trying to compose himself when he finally allows his hands to explore your body.

"mhm, i can feel how bad you want me," you keep grinding against him, the friction causing you both to whimper. "is really cute.... and hot— you know?"

"please—" his eyes flutter shut from pleasure, your hands teasing him just above the waistband of his jeans. "what is it, baby?" you bite back a smile at his desperate expression.

"just... i need you please— can you..." his breath is coming in ragged gasps now, and he feels both embarrassed and completely exhilarated. his hips rise slightly to meet yours, a natural response to the overwhelming sensation. his body aches for more contact, more friction, more of you.

"can i what? c'mon, you gotta ask nicely if you want something." you're teasing, torturing him purposely, enjoying how adorable he gets when his shyness takes over. "look at me, matt."

blushing intensely, he opens his eyes and stammers out, "can you... i mean, would you... with your mouth?" he immediately looks mortified at his own boldness, his cheeks flaming red as he quickly adds, "sorry, i didn't mean to presume—"

"i think you did mean it though," you smile softly, licking your lips. his words and the image that just popped up in your head makes your pussy pulse. "how can i say no when you're being such a good boy for me?" you press kisses to his neck just as he whines again, your hands already working on his belt. his eyes watching as his jeans and boxers get pushed down his legs. he gasps as the cool air hits his exposed lower half, his body trembling slightly. his dick twitches as you kneel on the mattress between his legs, looking at him in awe. "just relax."

he nods quickly, trying to calm himself. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, hands fumble anxiously with the hem of his shirt unsure what to do with them. is not like he was inexperienced, he was in a relationship before, but having you, the popular party girl that everyone wanted, between his legs was definitely making him more nervous than he would usually be.

you put your hair up into a messy ponytail, his body immediately tensing up. he can feel the blood rushing to his cock, making it throb with anticipation. he tries to relax his legs, spreading them wider to give you better access. you stop just above his tip, looking up at him with a smile at the messy state he was already in, even if you didn't start yet. "gonna say a magic word?"

he swallows hard, his blush deepens, "please."

his eyes dart between your face and his hard, leaking with precum dick, hardly believing this is really happening. but it feels real, when you give him a kitty lick before starting to suck on his tip. a strangled moan escapes matt's lips, his hips involuntarily twitching upwards. the sensation is electric, his hands fist in the sheets beneath him, grasping desperately for some form of anchor. "o-oh, fuck—"

your tongue is swirling around his tip teasingly, before you take him deeper, his eyes roll back in his head, breath catching in his throat. he can feel every ridge and curve of your mouth, the wet heat almost more than he can bear. a shaky whimper escapes him, hands slide up to tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he fights the urge to buck his hips forward.

he was so big, the choking sounds echoing in the room, saliva dripping down your chin. hollowing your cheeks, you start bobbing your head up and down, nose brushing against his pelvis. "s-shit.... feels so good— mmmm, fu—ckkk--" his entire body shudders, he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, completely captivated by the sight. the sounds alone are enough to make him dizzy with desire. his breathing becomes more ragged, mingling with the wet sounds of your mouth. "oh god..." he whimpers. you're breathing through your nose, focusing on his tip again, your hand working on the rest of him. the sensation combined with your mouth is incredible, almost too much to process. matt bites his lip hard, suppressing a loud moan, but it still escapes as more of a choked groan. "fuck, please—"

he was completely out of it, a big whining mess, his hips uncontrollably lifting upwards, his tip hitting the back of your throat. his toes curl as he feels the mounting pressure, his entire body tingling with exquisite tension while you suck on his dick like on a lollipop, being all messy with it, gagging every now and then. panting heavily, he tugs gently at your hair, "w-wait, m'gonna.... m'so close, wait—" you hum in approval, wanting to taste him on your tongue. it sends vibrations through him, another whimper escaping him. you speed up your movements, matt automatically starts thrusting up into your mouth as his orgasm approaches, "f-fuck, sorry, i.... i can't— shittt, gonna cum— can i... oh—"

he's lost at this point, his head threw back, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from his throat as you resume your actions. his hips lift off the bed, pressing himself deeper into your mouth, getting another moan from you. the sight was hypnotizing, his flushed features, the way he tried to muffle his moans by chewing on his bottom lip. you were dripping, clenching around nothing just from watching him.

with a choked cry, his entire body convulses as he finds his release, pulse after pulse of ecstasy flooding through him. his fingers fist so tightly in your hair that he's vaguely aware it might hurt, but he can't seem to loosen his grip. you whimper around him, tasting him on your tongue and swallowing everything. your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip one more time before pulling out with a wet pop. his vision blurs, heart pounding in his chest. he lets go off your hair, your eyes meeting his, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. damn.

his face flushed with heat as he smiles, "holy fuck."

"holy fuck indeed," you lick your lips, the sight so intimate and erotic for him that he feels his spent dick twitch in response. "that was, like, amazing—" he mutters, still struggling to find his voice.

you chuckle, moving so now you were on top of him again, hands on each side of his head. "what a shame that we met so late," you say, running your hand through his hair, a shiver going down his spine.

"i was supposed to leave at midnight," he admits. your eyebrow raises, "oh really?" he nods, "yeah, not a fan of parties."

"well... i'm glad you didn't have the chance to leave then."

"me too." he pulls you into another desperate kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, getting a hum in surprise. he was clearly eager for more. your fast to roll your dress up around your waist, grabbing his hand and directing it between your legs. when he feels how soaked your panties were, he can't help but whimper again. "feel it, baby?" you break the kiss, looking at him, his eyes darken with lust. "that's allll because of you."

his gaze travels over your body, taking in the curves he's only ever imagined. he swallows hard, his voice hoarse with need. "please, i need you..."

"you're so cute when you beg," you smile biting down on your plump lip. removing your underwear, you position yourself just above his tip, letting him feel the wet warmth, teasing him mercilessly. matt whines softly, his body tensing with the need to thrust into you and finally feel you. "what was that, hm? tell me what you want, matt."

"need you... to ride me— please—"

"need me, hm? and how bad?"

he whines again, louder this time, his hips bucking slightly in an attempt to get him inside you. "so bad," he pants, his voice barely recognizable in his desperation. "please, please, please..." he chants, his voice cracking with need.

"gooood boy," you praise, his words getting you even wetter. wrapping your hand around his cock, you give him a few strokes before slowly sinking down on him. "begging so pretty— f-fuck...." the sudden feeling of your warm, tight pussy enveloping his aching dick is almost too much for matt to handle. he throws his head back, a loud, wordless whimper tearing from his throat as he's sheathed inside you, a moan leaving your lips as well at his reaction. "shit, you're so big—" you stay still to adjust, lifting your dress higher to be more comfortable. you feel his dick twitching inside you after your words. amused written all over your face when you look at him, "you like it, hm? who would've know you're so naughty...."

matt's hands tremble as they grip your hips, trying desperately to hold back the urge to grind into you. his breath comes in short, sharp bursts as he savors the exquisite tightness gripping him.

"feels good?" you slowly start moving, he nods his head weakly, words caught in his throat as he tries to speak around the lump formed by his swallowed moan. "mmm, holy shit, matt—" his cock is buried so deeply inside you that it makes you see stars for a moment. you crave more of him, so you start speeding up the pace.

"so... good..." he manages to rasp out, his eyes rolling back briefly before snapping forward to lock onto yours again. "you're...too much..."

"yeah? want me to stop?" you mock him a little bit, knowing that's the last thing he wants.

he shakes his head frantically, a sheepish grin spreading across his flushed face. "no, no...don't stop. i meant...fuck, you're just so tight— fuckkk, feels incredible." he bucks his hips slightly, emphasizing his enthusiasm, his nails dig into your hips, his body tensing as he tries to pull you down further onto him.

"you're doing perfect for me, baby—" you moan out, putting one hand on his chest as you start moving your hips harder, your attention drawn to his tattoos. the sight of his arm causes you to painfully clench around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. he hisses at the feeling, it drives him wild. "shit, just like that—"

you both aren't able to hold back your moans, letting them spill out one after another. each thrust pushes you both into ecstasy, your hand on his chest the only thing anchoring him to reality. matt's hands slide up your sides, then down to your thighs, marveling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

matt notices the way your eyes are locked onto his tattoos and it makes his dick throb even harder inside you. "god, matt— mmhpp, oh my...." you lean forward, needing some balance as your legs start growing tired, your hands on each side of his head. he reaches up to your waist, guiding your movements as he lifts his hips to meet each thrust. "f-fuck— you're so beautiful..."

your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel it as well, which pushes him over the edge too. "gonna cum for me, pretty boy?" you choke out, looking down at him through half-open eyes.

"mhmm, fuck—" he pants, his own face contorted with pleasure. he sees the concentration on your face, the beads of sweat forming on your collarbone. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto him even harder. "s-so close... shiiit—"

"me too," you whine into his ear. "fuck..." his grip tightens on your waist as his release builds. his movements become more urgent, more desperate. "tell me... mm— tell me how you want it, sweetheart—" he knows he won't last much longer, not with how perfectly you're stretching around him.

"inside me—"

"y-yeah?" his voice breaking as he feels you clench around him again. "you want me to fill you up?"

"mhmmm—" you moan just as he whimpers again, what pushes you into a state of bliss, euphoria consumes you as your orgasm crashes down over you, your hips stuttering.

once he feels you creaming around him, and the pretty — mesmerizing moans, oh he's too far gone. matt's control snaps, he buries himself as deep as possible inside you, his hips jerking as he unleashes a torrent of cum deep within your spasming pussy. one last moan leaves him, his vision blurring as his release seems to go on forever. "fuckkkk—"

after you both ride out your orgasms, your hips come to a stop, his hands splaying out against your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. matt can feel his release slowly leaking out of you and dripping down his thighs. your breath against his neck tickles his skin.

"oh my god," he breathes out, making you chuckle and you lift up your head, seeing his flushed face. so cute. "made me see fuckin' stars, holy shit."

you laugh again, getting off to lay down beside him, head on matt's shoulder, his heart skips a beat at that. "you're funny," you say.

he wraps his hand around your waist again, not really ready to let go yet. "m'serious."

"okay, mr serious," you roll your eyes. "doesn't mean you aren't funny. and still a gentleman."

"getting into your pants before first date isn't really gentleman of me," he smiles shyly as you look up at him.

"i got into your pants," you correct him. "you gonna get into mine after that first date."

"there's gonna be one?"

"oh, definitely."

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[blckbrrybasket]

ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Lesbian (canon)

- Heavy metal is her favorite genre of music.

- Doesn’t have a hand towel in her bathroom. She shakes her hands to dry them and wipes them on her pants.

- Keeps her nails short and hates keeping them painted. She sees it as a waste of time since it chips so frequently.

- Has horrible long term memory but can remember the most random, specific memories or facts.

- Got hit by a motorcycle once and got into a fight with the driver.

- Would have had an emo phase when she was younger without knowing what being emo meant.

- Secretly not so secretly the biggest hater. Does gossip just in her own way of posing things as a fact.

- Hated any type of schooling with a burning passion. Did not do well with the structure it demanded and most likely did not do any schooling after the required amount.

- Snores so loud like a dad and will wake herself up with her own snoring at times.

- Ungodly high tolerance for alcohol…we all see how frequently she drinks.

- Also has an amazing spice tolerance and can eat basically anything. Human vaccum!

- Loves reptiles

- Hates clowns

- Tries to shower often and hates when she’s working for long days without being able to go home to clean.

- She has never done taxes

- When Sevika was younger if she caused something to go wrong she would flee the scene and let someone else take the blame. She isn’t above doing it now.

- Likes being alone. Give her a cigar and some whiskey and she’s set to be alone for the rest of her life. She’s had enough human interaction for one lifetime.

- Honestly bad at handling criticism and tries to rationalize everything she does in her head.

- Gets offended when people incorrectly assume things about her.

- She is completely oblivious to anyone liking her romantically or showing interest in her. She isn’t very conscious of being romantic so it goes over her head if she isn’t actively deciphering if someone is flirting.

SFW (serious)

- Hates hugs but will reluctantly give side hugs to someone very close to her.

- Sevika finds herself blaming Silco some nights and other nights she wants him to come back so she doesn’t have to deal with the chaos Zaun has fallen into.

- She has a love-hate relationship with her parents and ultimately wishes her childhood was better.

- Raised stray dogs on the streets as a kid because she thought of them like her.

- Has insane troubles trying to fall sleep.

- When she does eventually get to sleep she keeps a knife under her pillow. Do not wake her up unless you want to get hurt 😭

- Doesn’t verbally say i love you much. She prefers relationships where you both silently know how much you love each other.

- She can like physical touch at times and seek it out, but she doesn’t like it all the time. Sevika can love deeply, but she doesn’t do well with clingy people.

- She gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Though she doesn’t show it much on her face, it’s easy for her to feel suffocated by lots of things happening.

- She has to get used to cuddling and only cuddles with people she highly trusts where she doesn’t feel as if she is physically trapped.

- Would not be into toxic relationships. She hates situationships where she isn’t secure and/or doesn’t exactly know what she is with someone. Sevika needs something stable or she will not open up.

- Views her childhood self as a completely different person than herself. She mourns the kid who lost their happiness.

- Doesn’t fall in love easily because of the walls she has built up for years.

- Hates receiving help. Hates asking for it even more.

- Was called scrappy when younger and grew up to become ‘a scary lady’. When she’s able to settle down more she realizes how much she hates being stereotyped as this always angry and violent person.

- After becoming a councilor and being alone again years of pain came back. It took her a long time to work through all of it. She could be doing the most random thing and would burst into tears.

- When she hangs out around people she prefers to be in silence.

- Is hard of hearing after the amount of head trauma she has had. By the time she was in her late 50’s she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

NSFW

- Likes using her strap but prefers feeling you on her skin.

- Loves scissoring, but only does it on special occasions because hit makes her hips ache.

- Likes being bit (are we surprised?)

- Manhandler.

- Loves seeing you drip over her fingers, stretching you out is her favorite part because she always takes her time.

- Is a masochist, not so much a sadist. She sees enough people getting hurt every day by late season two she wouldn’t inflict pain on you in bed.

- Bush!!!! Loves bush, has a bush, wants a jungle.

- Prefers you dressed down. Never complains when you dress up but seeing you in every day clothes, her clothes, or pajamas is her favorite thing.

- It turns her on when you are at equal positions in your relationship instead of one being over the other, but doesn’t mind your subbing or domming more. switch sevika is real.

- PRAISES! Comes up compliments in bed that you didn’t even know she appreciated.

- Loves you dominating her. Giving up all the power she has to constantly hold it turns her brain to mush.

- Every time she is buried between your thighs she will massage them as she gives you head.

- Wears boy shorts underwear and briefs. Keeps them low cut to show her happy trail.

[witherby]

What would happen if any if the batfamilys enemies kidnapped baby y/n and ended up hurting them badly?

I'm happy to tell you, but not in any fantastic detail. When you say "baby" I think "infant, no teeth, still in diapers, etc."

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

The contexts in which you would not be with a family member as an infant are very few and far between. I'm thinking a couple of your brothers have you on an outing, like a soiree or a networking lunch for Wayne Enterprises, where they have to put the masks away and act like civilians. There's lots of people around, their attention spans are divided, and they're also counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave.

When that time finally hits, Dick politely excuses himself and goes to collect you and Tim so they can head home. But he only finds Tim.

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

"I thought you were watching them," Tim says, immediately turning sheet white. Dick's complexion is the same.

"I thought you were watching them."

Cue the immediate panic. Tim has his phone out and is trying to pinpoint your location via the tracker they put in all your pacifiers. Dick's eyes are sweeping the area for any signs of you having either crawled away or gotten scooped up by some confused and well-meaning socialite.

You are far away, and getting farther. Someone definitely took you on purpose. They don't hesitate before leaving the gathering and radioing backup. They'll handle all the screaming and scolding from everyone else as long as you get back home safe.

Whoever did take you, be it someone from the usual rogues gallery or a rando that likes kidnapping kids, it doesn't take long for them to catch up to him. It also doesn't take long to do any damage, either, so when they do find you, it's unfortunately with some significant bruising. Your chubby cheeks are red from tears and your arms and waist have handprint bruising from being dragged around, but nothing is broken or bleeding.

Your brothers can't say the same for the one that had the balls kidnap you. He should be thankful Jason was already on another mission.

(Jason comes back and pays him a visit anyway. Nobody gets to lay a fucking finger on you.)

In the aftermath, you're almost overwhelmed by the attention. You don't sleep in your nursery alone again for months; either someone is in there with you, or you're simply relocated to one of their bedrooms for the night. You're handled so, so delicately, like you're made of porcelain. It's all very soft play and quiet voices for a couple days. If you flinch at contact, either due to the trauma of the kidnapping or because someone brushed against a bruise that's still healing, there will be tears shed from that person.

Bruce notices you flinch when he burps you after a feeding and he has to sit on the floor with you in his lap because his hands are shaking so badly.

Damian will not touch you directly at all. If you need to be picked up, he's fashioning a hammock to slowly and gently roll you into and then carry you off.

Alfred maintains the calmest facade when he carries you around, but if you make any kind of whine or pained face, he has to take a moment alone to recollect himself.

Dick and Tim can barely stand to look at you. They're overwhelmed with guilt for assuming the other person was watching you and not simply double-checking themselves.

Jason asks Tim if he can do some tummy time with you, and he just straight up shakes his head.

Dick fucks up his sleep schedule keeping an eye on you in the night, because even though Dr. Thompkins cleared you, what if she missed something and you develop a complication and need help? He doesn't patrol Blüdhaven properly for weeks, instead coming over to Gotham to keep vigil at your window.

Needless to say, the general public does not see you again for months, and when they do, you are with the entire family. They will not let that happen again.

[ohsugar-honey-iced-tea]

can i make an angsty request where wanda brings reader to one of stark’s parties as her date & reader excuses themself to go to the bathroom only to come back and catch wanda and vision sharing a kiss? maybe reader starts to leave when wanda catches her out of the corner of her eye and tries to explain.

idk if this is any good but this would be cool to do bc i kinda want to cry a bit haha

If Only

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

A/n: This is my very first time writing an angst so please be kind 🥲

Warnings: angst, harrasment

Summary: where hope and dreams turn into sadness as you see your biggest fear come true

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You were absolutely over the moon.

After months and months of pining, longing, stolen glances and shared smiles, you finally found the courage to ask out Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda was everything you were looking for. Kind, smart, funny and witty. Beautiful with a smile that could light up the whole room and emerald green eyes that sparkled when she talked about something she was passionate about.

See, the thing is, you have been having a crush on Wanda as soon as she joined the Avengers. Long months were spent dreaming of her and hoping she would one day give you the honor of dating her.

You still weren't sure why she said yes when you asked her to go as your date to one of Starks parties. But you were so glad she did.

As you were getting ready, putting on your best dress, Wanda send you a text.

'Be ready in ten, detka. x W'

You smiled. Detka. That one word already had your cheeks hurting from how big your smile was.

As you were putting on the finishing touches on your makeup, you heard a soft knock on your door. You opened the door to your room and there she was.

A stunning red dress with black high heels to match with them. A golden necklace with two gold bracelets to finish the set. Red hair put up, revealing small diamond earrings and makeup done to perfection.

So goddesses do exist. And one was standing right in front of you.

Wanda must have thought something was wrong because she looked at you worriedly.

"Y/n, is everything alright?"

"You... you look perfect."

Wanda blushed, clearly flustered by your compliment.

"Well you don't look so bad yourself, ma'am"

You giggled, quickly getting the last of your things so you could head to the main floor where the party was held.

As you two walked down the stairs, hand in hand, you couldn't help but think that this felt right. You and Wanda, holding each others hand and being next to each other.

You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself, but you couldn't contain your smile.

"What's so funny over there?"

You gave her a cocky smile and a sly wink in return.

"With a little luck you will find out later"

As the two of you stepped in the big crowded room, you started feeling a little overwhelmed. Big parties and busy crowds were never really your thing, but Wanda was worth it. She would always be worth it. You turned to Wanda.

"You stay right here, and I'll get us some drinks, okay?

Wanda gave you a little kiss on your cheek, making you blush furiously.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, detka"

You smiled and you made your way over to the bar as you ordered your drinks. A strawberry daiquiri for Wanda. Pretty and sweet, just like her.

As you were waiting for your drink your mind began to wonder to your plans for later tonight.

Wanda didn't know, but you went up to the balcony earlier today to hang up some fairylights and a little blanket for you to sit on, so you would have your own little starry midnight sky.

You were hoping tonight would finally be the night where you would feel Wanda's lips on yours. You were so sure that would be what true happiness would feel like.

As you took the drinks and made your way over to Wanda, your heart dropped.

There he was. Wanda's ex, Vision. He was with Wanda and they were making out against the wall.

You felt your heart shatter into pieces. Surely you were insecure, but you were so sure Wanda felt the same about you than you did for her.

Perhaps you shouldn't have allowed yourself to have hope. After all, hope is only seconds away of crushing reality kicking in.

Your legs were starting to feel weak and your hands let go of the drink, clattering to the floor as you let out a poorly concealed sob. Wanda suddently jumped off of the wall she was pressed against.

"Y/n, this isn't what it looks like!"

But it was too late. All sound got quiet, and you felt a panic attack rising. You needed to get out of there, now.

"Come on baby, this is what we both want"

As Wanda saw you running she tried as hard as she could to get out of Vision's arms, who has started to rub his hands all over her body. Eventually she got out and followed you, running as fast as she ever did.

See, the thing is, Vision cornered Wanda. He had pinned her arms down and had forced his lips onto Wanda's. She tried with all might to do something, scream, hit, anything. But she couldn't. Until she heard you.

Vision even had the audacity to look at you and smirk.

With all her might Wanda tried to catch up to you, but as she walked outside all she could see was your car speeding off.

Was the one thing that could truly make Wanda happy ruined before it even had a chance to start?

As you drove off, your eyes began to swim with tears. How dare you be so stupid to believe you actually had a chance?

As you turned left, you put the volume of the radio to the max. You needed to hear something, anything, other then your thoughts.

Maybe your parents were right. Maybe you weren't deserving of love. After all, they were the ones who never went out of their way to show that to you, starting at an early age.

Was any of it Wanda showed you real? Were the little inside jokes only meaningful to you? The small hints that Wanda wanted this as much as you did?

If only you weren't so naive. Maybe then you wouldn't be feeling how you are feeling now.

If only you didn't believe in love and happiness. Maybe then you could have been at peace with yourself, making a happy little life with just yourself.

If only you would have seen the car on your right running the red light.

-------------------------------------------------------

Let me know if you want to be added to the Wanda taglist! If you have any requests, send them! Reblogs are much appreciated :)

Taglist: @wandanats-goodgirl

[drcomttheo]

Draco Malfoy x YN

summary: You are the first person who's been in his room.

warnings: Fluff, soft smut

words: 642

a/n: Excerpt from my fic "Inordinate Love" or find it on my ML that's pinned.

Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML

Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

"You have a very lovely room, Malfoy."

I can't help but smile as I am walking around his room.

He has many pictures from his childhood. "You were also a very cute kid." I observe as I am picking up a small picture with a young Malfoy in it.

It seems like it was one of those photos that rich people get taken for their yearly family portrait. "Thank you." He says back with a soft chuckle and head shake.

I place the picture back in its spot, slowly making my way around his room until I find something familiar to me. "Why do you have a Venomous Tentacula in your room?" I question as I make sure just to pick up the pot holding the small version of a really big plant.

A Tentacula was spiky and red in color, and aside from the fact that I am deathly allergic to it, it is a toothsome plant with mobile vines that try to grab its prey.

It has many different purposes, as it also has many different properties.

"I think it's pretty, and I believe people tend to see all the bad in things and never really see the beauty in it." He smiled at his own comment as he was slowly walking towards me.

Now that I looked around, I noticed he had many plants around his room; they were not big or overwhelming. Just the right amount to suggest maybe he should have been a Hufflepuff.

I giggle to myself, hoping he can't read my mind because if he did, he would kill me for that comment.

I set the plant back down gently where I got it. "I am allergic to those, you know. In fifth-year herbology, when we were doing a research project on deadly plants, I just barely nicked my finger on a stinging nettle.

Professor Sprout found out very fast that maybe she shouldn't be teaching with them, as I had to be rushed to the hospital wing. I was out for days. Lucky to be alive, actually." I smile slightly.

"I am lucky you are alive too." He smiled at me sweetly, making his way over to me, putting both of his hands on my waist, and I met his brooding gray eyes.

"Are you done snooping now?" He asks in a joking manner. "Maybe, maybe not." I say, breaking out of his grip, walking away while running my fingers along his dresser to his desk.

He looked at me with an impatient look. "Okay. Fine! I am done snooping." I fired back at him, crossing my arms and kicking one foot out.

"You better be lucky. I like you, any other girl/boy." He paused. "Well, first, any other girl/boy would not have made it to my bedroom, and if they did, they wouldn't be here long enough to explore."

What was he saying? Was he saying I was special? Was he saying I was the first girl/boy in here?

I decided I would mess with him a little bit because I can tell how much it actually makes him happy. "Are you saying I am special, Malfoy?" I ask, lightly spinning in a half circle.

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Y/N." I was taken aback, mostly because I was expecting a sarcastic response. He was walking towards me again but with more lust in his eyes, and before I knew it, he had picked me up and placed me on the desk, pushing me against the wall and kissing me.

He delicately took hold of my face, his hands tenderly resting against my cheeks. Our lips met in a passionate yet tender embrace.

I held him close, my arms wrapped securely around his neck. His hands gently caressed the small of my back.

The kiss was intensifying, and our desire for one another was becoming more powerful.

One hand of Dracos traveled down my body as the other clenched over my breasts tightly.

[hrizantemy]

Cassian had thought about little else but Nesta since she’d left after Solstice. The silence between them weighed on him, and no matter how much he tried to bury it, his mind would always find its way back to her—her distance, her rejection, the way she avoided him. The others had noticed, and while Feyre had scolded Morrigan for her harsh words to Nesta, it was clear to everyone that Morrigan’s apology hadn’t been genuine. She had moved on from it, but Cassian couldn’t.

Feyre, on the other hand, seemed more hopeful. She was grateful that Nesta had invited her somewhere, even if it was just to a tavern, and Cassian couldn’t help but feel a flicker of resentment. Feyre was desperate for any sign of connection, but Nesta’s invitation felt more like a fragile truce than a real step toward healing.

Elain, ever the quiet observer, had admitted she didn’t feel comfortable going to the tavern. Feyre had been understanding, suggesting they instead go to Nesta’s for dinner, which Elain reluctantly agreed to. But even with the offer, Feyre could tell Elain was still uncomfortable, her unease lingering in the air as they all moved forward, each of them carrying a mix of hope and hesitation.

The days after Cassian had returned from Illyria were a blur, the lingering ache of Nesta’s absence gnawing at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her—of the emptiness her absence had left behind—and the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was somewhere close, just out of reach.

It wasn’t like him to be consumed by a single thought, but Nesta had changed everything. He had spent weeks trying to keep his mind occupied, pushing away the overwhelming need to track her down, to find where she had gone after leaving the Solstice gathering. But the more he tried to resist, the more the idea took hold of him. He would find her. He would go to the taverns, visit the places where she’d worked, or ask anyone who might know where she lived now.

The desperation to demand an answer, to force her to talk to him, gnawed at him like a hunger he couldn’t appease. But even as he thought about it, a part of him knew it wouldn’t work. Not like this. Not with him demanding answers and trying to impose his will. He had never been good at that with Nesta. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to fix things, to force a conversation, to fix whatever was broken between them.

Yet, even in the depth of his frustration, part of him feared what he might find, what he might hear, and whether he would truly be ready for it. The guilt and the uncertainty clung to him as the days wore on, leaving him wondering if he could even find a way to make things right with the woman who had stolen his heart.

Cassian’s feelings were more complicated than just longing. There was resentment simmering beneath the surface, a bitterness he couldn’t shake. Nesta had healed without them—without him. She had distanced herself further and further, choosing to rebuild her life alone. The thought stung. She had pushed them away, rejecting the very people who had once been her support, and now she stood as someone entirely different. Someone who no longer needed him or any of them.

It was hard for Cassian to watch from the sidelines, unable to help her, to fix things, to even get close. The woman who had once been drowning in her own pain had now found a way to stand tall, to pull herself out of the mess she had been in. She got a job, stopped drinking, and stopped bringing strangers home like she once had. She had paid back every single coin Rhysand had once fronted for her—the tabs she’d racked up in the taverns. It was almost as if she was proving a point, showing them that she could thrive without their help, without their pity.

The transformation was remarkable, but it didn’t feel like victory to him. It felt like defeat. Nesta had done it all on her own, and in doing so, she had forced him to confront how little he had been able to do for her when she needed it most. She had pulled herself out of the darkness, but in doing so, she had cut the rest of them out, and that cut deep. Cassian couldn’t quite reconcile his admiration for her strength with the bitter realization that she had moved on—without him.

The worst part wasn’t just that Nesta had healed. It wasn’t even that she had moved on without him. No, the worst part was seeing how happy she looked—not with him, but with someone else. It was a quiet sort of joy that radiated from her, a peace Cassian had never seen in her eyes. And it wasn’t even the fact that she was with a woman. That, in itself, shocked him, yes, but it wasn’t the source of his turmoil. It was the softness in her gaze—the kind of softness he had never once seen directed at him.

Never once had Nesta looked at him like that, not even when they were close. Not when they had shared their quiet moments, when their bond had been full of unspoken things. She had always been guarded with him, distant, and maybe that’s what made her healing feel like a sharp, cruel reminder of everything he had missed.

But with Taryn? With her, Nesta’s face was full of something Cassian had only ever dreamed of seeing. There was no hardness in her eyes, no suspicion, no walls. Just warmth, just that kind of openness he hadn’t earned, couldn’t have earned. He’d never been able to break down the barriers she had built around her heart, and seeing her share that tenderness with someone else made him feel small, insignificant. It twisted something inside of him, this ugly mix of guilt and longing, watching her so free with someone else, when all he had ever wanted was to be the one who got to see that side of her.

That softness was never meant for him, and that realization hit him harder than he had expected. It was a kind of finality that he couldn’t escape, no matter how much he tried to move past it.

Cassian walked along the Sidra, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his boots kicking stray rocks with each step. The water flowed beside him, but he barely noticed it, his mind too heavy with thoughts that dragged him down. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know where to go from here. Every time he tried to get closer to Nesta, to reach her, there was nothing but distance between them—an invisible wall he couldn’t break.

The bond they once shared was gone. Or at least, it felt that way. He couldn’t sense her anymore, not in the way he used to. It wasn’t that the bond was broken—it was as if she had simply let it go, as if she no longer needed or wanted to feel him. It wasn’t a severing, no clean break, but a slow drifting, like she had forgotten he was ever there. Forgotten that he could still feel her, hear her thoughts, be connected to her in ways that no one else could.

It should have hurt, but instead, it left him with an emptiness, a hollow feeling in his chest. It was as if Nesta had taken all of her warmth, all of her strength, and moved it away from him—away from their bond. Cassian knew she was healing, knew she was thriving, but what he couldn’t understand was why that meant leaving him behind. Had she ever really needed him, or had it always been just a fleeting connection, something that had served its purpose and now was no longer relevant?

He kicked another rock, watching it skip across the surface of the river. There was a time when she had been the center of his thoughts, when the mere idea of her would light a fire inside him. But now? Now he was walking through the motions, trying to figure out how to live without the pull of her presence constantly there, even if it had been distant for so long. He didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to fix this. He only knew that whatever Nesta had done, whatever path she was on, it was one she had chosen without him. And that realization? That was the hardest blow of all.

Cassian didn’t even realize where he was walking, his mind consumed with thoughts of Nesta and the lingering emptiness that followed her departure. He was lost in the rhythm of his steps, his gaze fixed downward, barely registering his surroundings. And then, without warning, he collided with someone. The impact was soft, but the crash of falling bags broke through his haze. He heard a quiet curse as a few grocery bags tumbled to the ground, spilling their contents onto the cobblestone street.

He froze, instantly aware of what had happened. He was going to apologize, to bend down and help pick up the mess, but then he looked up. And there she was.

Taryn.

His heart stuttered for a brief second. He hadn’t expected to run into her—least of all like this. She stood there, glaring at the ground as she quickly began to gather her fallen groceries, a faint flush of frustration coloring her features. Cassian felt a flicker of embarrassment, realizing he had been so lost in his own world that he hadn’t even noticed someone in his path.

Without thinking, he crouched down to help her, reaching for the scattered bags. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

Taryn didn’t immediately respond. She continued picking things up with swift movements, clearly trying to hide her irritation. But then she paused, glanced up at him, and gave a tight smile. “It’s fine,” she said, though there was a trace of tension in her voice.

Cassian watched her, unsure of what to say next. There was an awkwardness between them, an unspoken distance. After all, she wasn’t just a stranger, not really. She was with Nesta. And for all the times he had seen her from a distance, there was a weight to this encounter that he hadn’t expected.

He picked up the last of the fallen items, placing them carefully back into the bags. “Are you… okay?” he asked, his voice softening slightly as he straightened.

Taryn didn’t immediately answer, but she nodded, taking the bags from him. “Yes, thank you,” she said quietly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, something Cassian couldn’t quite place. A guardedness, perhaps, or a wariness that matched the awkwardness of their interaction.

Cassian felt the silence stretch between them, unsure of how to break it. Finally, he cleared his throat, giving a small shrug. “I should have been paying more attention.”

Taryn glanced at him, offering a small, knowing smile. “Seems like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Cassian’s gaze flickered away, the weight of her words hitting a little too close to home. He didn’t respond right away, but the quiet between them felt heavier now. Taryn, however, was already looking down at the bags, seeming to dismiss the moment as quickly as it had come.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I should get going.”

As Taryn adjusted the weight of the bags in her hands, her fingers straining to hold them all, Cassian stood there, watching her. It was strange how something so simple—a woman holding bags—could feel so heavy. Her posture, tense as she shifted the weight from one hand to the other, made it clear she wasn’t handling it easily.

Cassian didn’t know why, but before he could stop himself, he found the words slipping out. “Do you need help?”

Taryn paused. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might refuse—pride or stubbornness flashing in her eyes—but then, after a moment’s hesitation, she seemed to reconsider. Her gaze softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

“Actually, yes,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “Thank you.”

Cassian moved forward, careful not to crowd her, and reached for one of the bags. He could feel the weight of it in his hand as he took it from her, the gesture simple, but somehow it felt like an unspoken offering. A truce, or maybe just an acknowledgment that neither of them had to carry their burdens alone, if only for a moment.

They started walking together, side by side, the awkwardness of their earlier exchange lingering in the air. Taryn said nothing for a while, and Cassian didn’t press her. His mind wandered again, thoughts drifting back to Nesta and that strange, quiet sense of longing that had been gnawing at him since he had first seen her with Taryn.

The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been earlier. Maybe because now, at least, they were doing something—helping, in a small way, even if the world around them seemed like it had shifted too much already.

Taryn glanced over at him after a few moments, the flicker of something in her gaze—something unreadable. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Cassian gave a small shrug, keeping his eyes ahead as they walked. “It’s no trouble,” he said, his voice a little lighter than before. “I don’t mind.”

She didn’t respond, but the soft sound of her breath as they continued walking made it feel, for a moment, like they weren’t so far apart.

As they walked, Cassian couldn’t help but sneak glances at Taryn. There was something about her that made him feel… uneasy, though not in the way he had anticipated. She wasn’t his type, not in the way Nesta had been. Nesta had always been fierce and untouchable, her every movement demanding attention. Taryn, however, was quiet—composed in a way that Cassian hadn’t expected. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever been around.

He studied her as they walked side by side, trying to find something, anything, that would explain the pull Nesta had felt toward her. What was it about this woman that had made Nesta smile in a way she’d never smiled for him? He couldn’t see it right away.

Taryn wasn’t trying to make herself seen. She wasn’t flashy or demanding attention. Her hair was tied up simply, a few strands falling loosely around her face. The soft, subtle grace she moved with was more refined than anything Cassian was used to. There was no arrogance in her posture, no sharpness in her tone. She wasn’t like the women he was familiar with, always bold and willing to fight for their place.

He tried to push past his thoughts, but as they continued walking, the more he watched her, the more his mind ran through all the possible reasons Nesta would have chosen to open herself to Taryn. What had Taryn offered that he couldn’t? What had she given Nesta that he had failed to?

It made no sense to him. He had been there for Nesta, in every way he knew how. Yet here she was, sharing moments with someone else—someone like Taryn—someone who was soft and steady, who didn’t demand, but somehow seemed to give her what she needed.

Cassian tried to figure it out, but the answer remained just out of reach. Taryn was so different from Nesta, in every way. And yet, the thought lingered in his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What had Nesta seen in her? Why did she look at Taryn with a kind of warmth that had never been reserved for him?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something vital. But the more he looked at Taryn, the more it gnawed at him—Nesta’s smile when she looked at her, the quiet, unspoken bond between them that Cassian couldn’t quite understand.

Cassian couldn’t hold it in any longer. His curiosity gnawed at him, and the silence between them had grown too thick for him to ignore. He cleared his throat, glancing at Taryn from the corner of his eye.

“How’s Nesta?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended, like he was afraid she might hear the desperation beneath it. “I know… everything’s been left tense between us.”

Taryn slowed her pace slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment as she took a breath. Then, with a simple shrug, she replied, “She’s okay. Really, she is. We went out to meet some friends after the Solstice, delivered more presents.” She didn’t elaborate, but there was something in her voice that told Cassian everything he needed to know—Nesta had been moving on.

Cassian felt a strange sting in his chest at the thought. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, but a bitter realization. She was living her life without him, carving out a space where he no longer fit. And, for the first time, he was starting to wonder if that was how it should be.

“Good,” he muttered, though the word felt hollow. He wasn’t sure if he meant it.

Cassian didn’t know why the word struck him so strangely. Friends. Friends? Of course, Nesta would have friends. She wasn’t incapable of connection, wasn’t completely cold or cruel—not in the way others might think. But still, he couldn’t quite picture it. Her sharp tongue and relentless glare were more likely to push people away than draw them close.

He tried to imagine it. Nesta, sitting with a group of people, laughing, talking about… what? She wasn’t the type to make small talk, to gossip about nonsense. What did she share with these so-called friends? What part of herself did they get that he hadn’t?

It was unsettling, the idea that there were pieces of her life he didn’t know about. Had she always had friends and just… not told him? Had she met them after she left? What did they see in her that made them stay? He found himself stuck in a loop, trying to reconcile the Nesta he knew with this version of her, one who had a life full of people who weren’t him.

Taryn glanced at him, her lips twitching in a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was sharp, almost pointed, and Cassian felt the weight of it as if she had peeled back the layers of his thoughts.

“She’s perfectly capable of making friends,” Taryn said smoothly, her tone light but purposeful. Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer, as though daring him to deny it.

Cassian felt a flush creep up his neck. He shifted the bag in his hands, focusing on the ground ahead as if it held answers. “It’s not that she couldn’t,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “It’s just… Nesta is Nesta.”

Taryn raised a brow, the look on her face both amused and unimpressed. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

Cassian stumbled over his words, realizing how it must have sounded. “I just mean… she’s not the easiest person to get to know. She keeps her guard up.” He hesitated, then added, almost to himself, “She pushes people away.”

Taryn’s expression softened, but there was still steel beneath it. “And yet, some people stay. You’d be surprised how many are willing to try when they see her for who she truly is.”

The words landed heavily, and Cassian felt them settle uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t respond, unable to shake the feeling that Taryn wasn’t just talking about Nesta’s friends but maybe even herself. Maybe especially herself.

Cassian frowned, his grip tightening slightly on the bag in his hands. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his voice lower, more defensive. “But they don’t know her like I do. Like her family does.”

Taryn stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her sharp gaze pinned him in place. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

He blinked, caught off guard by her directness. “Because I’ve been there,” he said, his tone firmer now, almost as if trying to convince himself. “Through everything. I’ve seen her at her worst, and I’ve—”

“Left her there,” Taryn cut in softly but pointedly. Her words sliced through him, leaving no room for rebuttal. “You’ve seen her, but did you ever truly try to understand her? Or did you just assume that because she’s family, you knew everything there was to know?”

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Taryn tilted her head, studying him for a moment longer before continuing. “Nesta doesn’t let people in easily, but when she does, she’s loyal in ways most people can’t comprehend. If she’s found people who care for her, who see her for who she is now, maybe that’s something you should be glad about instead of guarded.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. Cassian swallowed hard, the weight of them settling into the cracks he hadn’t even realized were there. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, the thought of anyone else knowing Nesta better than he did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Cassian’s jaw tightened as he stopped in his tracks. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “You didn’t see her last solstice. What she was doing to herself. The drinking, the fighting, the way she pushed everyone away. You don’t know what it was like.”

Taryn turned to him sharply, her eyes blazing with something fierce. “Don’t I?” she snapped, her voice low and biting. “You think I wasn’t there? That I didn’t see her that way?”

Cassian froze, his mind scrambling to make sense of her words. “What are you talking about?”

“That solstice,” Taryn said firmly, stepping closer, “was the night I met Nesta. I saw her exactly as she was then—angry, hurting, and drowning in her own pain. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she downed those drinks, or how hollow her laughter sounded? You’re not the only one who’s seen her at her lowest, Cassian.”

Cassian’s throat tightened, but he didn’t look away from her glare. “Then you know what I’m talking about,” he pressed, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You know how bad it was.”

Taryn’s gaze didn’t soften, but her tone shifted, calmer yet still cutting. “I saw her that way, yes. But unlike you, I didn’t just judge her for it. I didn’t try to fix her or force her into something she wasn’t ready for. I just… listened. And maybe that’s why she started to pull herself out of that darkness—because she didn’t need someone telling her what she already knew. She needed someone who would stand beside her while she figured it out herself.”

Cassian stared at her, the weight of her words pressing against the cracks in his pride. He wanted to argue, to push back, but for the first time, he felt the sting of doubt. Had he been so focused on saving Nesta that he hadn’t stopped to ask what she actually needed?

Cassian swallowed hard, his voice hesitant as he asked, “What did she need, then?”

Taryn studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, as if the answer carried weight she wasn’t sure he could hold. Finally, she said, “She needed space. And patience. Someone who didn’t try to fix her, but who saw her for who she was—not just her anger or her pain, but all of her.”

Cassian flinched, her words hitting closer than he wanted to admit. “I… I cared about her. I still do. I thought I was helping.”

Taryn’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Maybe you were, in your way. But Nesta didn’t need someone to save her, Cassian. She needed someone who trusted her to save herself.”

Cassian felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the truth in what she said left him speechless.

“She’s stronger than you think,” Taryn continued, her voice steady but no longer harsh. “Stronger than even she believed, back then. But she had to find that strength on her own terms. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”

Cassian looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the cobblestones beneath their feet. He wanted to believe he had done right by Nesta, but hearing Taryn now made him question everything. “I just wanted her to be happy,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“She is,” Taryn said simply, her voice softening just enough to be kind. “But it’s her happiness, Cassian. Not the version you wanted for her.”

The words stung, but Cassian nodded faintly, unable to argue against the truth of them.

Taryn adjusted the grocery bag in her arms and began walking again, her steps deliberate but unhurried. Cassian quickly fell into stride beside her, his thoughts racing.

“How… how was she?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. “Last solstice, I mean. How did you two even meet?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was fixed ahead, as if deciding how much to say. Finally, she exhaled softly. “She was… at a low point,” Taryn admitted, her voice measured. “She didn’t say much at first, but it was obvious. I could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking anyone in the eye.”

Cassian’s chest tightened at the image, the guilt surging anew. “And?”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. “I was in a tavern,” she said bluntly. “She was sitting in a corner, drinking, glaring at anyone who came too close. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I saw a few men trying to bother her.”

Cassian’s fists clenched at the thought, his protective instincts flaring. “And what happened?”

Taryn gave a wry smile. “She didn’t need me to intervene. She shut them down with a single look and a few choice words. It was… impressive, honestly.”

Cassian felt a mix of pride and frustration at the image. “So why did you approach her?”

Taryn’s smile faded slightly. “Because even after they left, she still looked… alone. Not just in the way she was sitting, but like it was something she carried with her.”

Cassian swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “And then?”

“I sat down,” Taryn said simply. “She tried to brush me off at first, told me to go away. But I stayed. I offered to buy her a drink—not the cheap, strong stuff she was nursing, but something that didn’t burn. And to my surprise, she didn’t argue. She just… let me.”

Cassian blinked, stunned. He could hardly imagine Nesta letting anyone do something like that, let alone a stranger. “And you just talked?”

Taryn shrugged. “Not much that first night. But enough. I told her about a band that was playing a few nights later, and I don’t know why, but I invited her. Didn’t think she’d come.” She smiled faintly. “But she did.”

Cassian fell silent, his mind replaying the story. It was so… unlike the Nesta he knew—or thought he knew. He couldn’t help but feel like he was piecing together fragments of someone he’d lost, someone who had grown into a version of herself he no longer fully recognized.

Cassian frowned, the weight of Taryn’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “If you knew she was drinking to hurt herself,” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, “why would you buy her another drink? Why not stop her?”

Taryn didn’t break stride, though her jaw tightened slightly. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, considering her response before she finally spoke. “Because stopping her wouldn’t have worked. Not then.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Taryn turned her head, her gaze steady and unyielding as she met his. “Do you really think she didn’t know she was hurting herself? That she didn’t already hear all the judgment from everyone around her? What she didn’t need was someone else trying to fix her. She needed someone who wasn’t going to push her away further.”

Cassian opened his mouth to argue but found he had no immediate response. Taryn’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“I wasn’t buying her another drink to enable her,” Taryn continued, her voice firm but not unkind. “I was meeting her where she was. Showing her that she wasn’t invisible. That someone saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen.”

Cassian’s steps faltered, his hands tightening into fists. He hated the truth in her words, hated the guilt it churned up in him. He’d spent so long trying to push Nesta to be the version of herself he thought she should be, and now he couldn’t shake the image of her sitting in that tavern, alone and hurting.

“That’s what she needed then,” Taryn said quietly. “And eventually, she started to let herself want more than the hurt.”

Cassian’s chest ached, his gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. He didn’t know how to respond, how to process the realization that someone else—someone he barely knew—had reached Nesta in a way he never could.

Taryn’s gaze softened as she walked, her voice steady but reflective. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “Nesta didn’t just let people in. At first, she was sharp, guarded… like she was waiting for me to prove I was just like everyone else who had hurt her.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his fists still shoved in his pockets. “That sounds like her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Taryn.

Taryn glanced at him but didn’t comment on the bitterness in his tone. “She tested me, you know,” she continued. “Sarcasm, walls built so high I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past them. But I didn’t push. I just… stayed.”

“Stayed?” Cassian repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Taryn said simply. “I sat with her when she didn’t want to talk. I listened when she did. I didn’t pry or force her to explain herself. I let her take her time because I knew she needed to trust that I wasn’t going to leave the moment it got hard.”

Cassian’s throat felt tight. “And she let you in?”

“Eventually,” Taryn said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It took months. Months of awkward silences, of her throwing verbal barbs at me to see if I’d flinch. But little by little, she let her guard down. And when she did…” Taryn’s smile grew, warm and fond. “It was worth it. She’s worth it.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say to that. His heart twisted painfully at the thought of Nesta letting Taryn in when she had pushed him—and everyone else—so far away. He wanted to resent Taryn for it, but deep down, he couldn’t. Not when it was clear that she had been there for Nesta when no one else had.

Taryn’s voice softened as she continued, her gaze fixed ahead. “Even after she started to trust me, Nesta wasn’t ready. For relationships, for dating… anything like that.”

Cassian glanced at her, a question in his eyes, but he stayed quiet.

“She was still piecing herself back together,” Taryn said. “She didn’t need someone trying to claim her, or fix her, or even push her. She needed space to figure out who she was beyond all the pain she’d carried. So, we stayed as friends. Close friends.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice faintly bitter, but Taryn ignored the edge in his tone.

“She got a job,” Taryn continued, undeterred. “Started saving her money, paying off debts—even the ones no one expected her to repay. She moved into a new apartment, something small but cozy, something she could call her own. And she started exploring things she enjoyed—books, music, dancing.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?”

Taryn smiled faintly. “Yes, dancing. Not in a ballroom or for anyone’s approval, but just… for herself. She loved the freedom of it. The joy.”

Cassian looked away, his throat tightening. He thought of all the times he had seen Nesta at her lowest, drowning herself in alcohol and pushing everyone away. He thought of how he had tried to pull her out of that darkness, but his methods had only driven her further away.

“She didn’t need someone to pull her out,” Taryn added, as if reading his thoughts. “She needed to climb out on her own. And she did.”

Cassian stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He didn’t know if it was anger, regret, or something else entirely that burned in his chest. But one thing was certain: Nesta had found a life beyond him, beyond the chaos they had shared. And for the first time, he realized just how far out of reach she truly was.

Cassian stopped walking, his voice coming out sharp, like a challenge he couldn’t hold back. “When did it happen?” His eyes locked onto Taryn’s, searching, as if the answer might bring him some sort of relief. “When did you two become… this close? When did you—” He paused, words faltering for a moment. “When did she start trusting you enough for all of that?”

Taryn’s expression was unreadable, but there was a soft sigh before she answered. “It didn’t happen overnight, Cassian. It took time. Months, really. I didn’t rush her. I wasn’t trying to be her savior or her therapist or her next… whatever. I just showed up. I was there when she needed someone who wouldn’t push or judge or try to make her ‘better.’”

Cassian’s fists clenched, but his voice stayed low, full of that pent-up frustration. “I was there too. I tried.”

Taryn’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped walking, her tone cool but firm. “And you know what happened when you tried, right? You pushed. You didn’t see her. You didn’t really hear her. You didn’t give her the space she needed to heal, and it drove her further away. It’s why she needed a different kind of person.”

Cassian stood frozen for a beat, trying to swallow the weight of her words. The truth had always been there, hadn’t it? He had pushed too hard, too fast, expecting things to fall back into place when she was barely standing at all. He hadn’t seen it until now—how much further he had gone to drive a wedge between them.

“When did it happen?” he repeated, quieter this time. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer, but he had to ask. He needed to know. “When did you… become what she needed?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, her gaze softened just a touch. “It wasn’t a moment, Cassian. It was a process. A lot of small moments. But if you want a specific day, it was when she told me she wanted to dance with me.” She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And that… well, that was a beautiful thing to witness.”

Cassian let out a slow breath, the air around him feeling heavy, as if he was hearing everything for the first time, but it was too late to take it back. He wanted to scream, to ask her how he could have been different, but the words stuck. All he could do was stand there, feeling the loss of her—not just as a woman, but as someone who was gone in a way he hadn’t realized until now.

Taryn’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she resumed walking, her gaze ahead of her. “She trusted me,” she said simply. “I didn’t ask her to. I just gave her the space to be who she needed to be.” She glanced at Cassian, her expression soft but firm. “We have a relationship built on honesty, Cassian. She’s bared her heart to me, everything—no holds barred.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, the words catching in his chest. He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Everything?” He couldn’t help it, the need to know the depth of what she meant. “Even the cabin… her sisters… Feyre?”

Taryn nodded without hesitation, her gaze unwavering as she continued walking. “Yes. Everything. Nesta needed someone to listen, to understand. She had her reasons for keeping things from her family, but with me, she didn’t hold back. She told me about the cabin, about the way she felt about her family, about Feyre and what happened with her. She told me about the war, about the way things broke her—about how she thought no one cared enough to help.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “And it wasn’t easy for her. But she found a way to talk about it.”

Cassian stood silent for a moment, processing her words. There was so much he hadn’t known, so much he hadn’t realized about Nesta’s struggle. Her isolation wasn’t just about being left behind—it was about the broken pieces no one had bothered to pick up. “She never told me that,” he murmured, the hurt obvious in his tone. “She never let me in like that.”

Taryn’s smile softened. “She had to be ready, Cassian. And she wasn’t ready with you then. But she is now… in her own way, with the people who see her, who accept her as she is.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a quiet strength behind it. “You didn’t give her that. But she’s found it now.”

The words struck him like a blow. Cassian felt the sting of regret, but also the painful realization that he had never really seen Nesta for who she had become—only who she had been when they first met. “I didn’t understand her,” he admitted quietly. “Not then, not even now.”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. “It’s not too late, you know. But it has to be on her terms now.”

Cassian looked at Taryn, his voice raw with a mix of frustration and curiosity. “How did you do it? How did you understand her when none of us could? The cabin… we all hated her for it. Some of us still do.” He paused, trying to grasp at the answer that had been eluding him. “Why didn’t you?”

Taryn’s expression softened, and she turned her gaze toward him, her pace slowing as she considered his words. “Why would I hate her for it?” she asked quietly. “I wasn’t here, Cassian. I didn’t live the way she did. I didn’t feel the weight of every mistake she thought she’d made. I didn’t hear the things that broke her down, the way you and her sisters did. I didn’t live through the endless cycle of self-loathing that she couldn’t escape from.”

Her voice was calm but firm, as if the answer was simple to her. “So why would I hate her for something I didn’t live? Why would I judge her when I didn’t walk in her shoes, when I didn’t feel what she felt?” Taryn’s eyes met his, a quiet but powerful understanding in them. “I saw a woman who was trying to survive. She didn’t have to explain herself to me, but she did. And I didn’t turn my back on her for it.”

Taryn’s footsteps slowed even further as she spoke, her voice quiet but full of conviction. “What happened to the sisters… all of it, it was horrible. But Nesta blamed it all on herself. Everything. When she didn’t have to. She carried the weight of it like it was her burden alone, as if she had the power to stop it all.” Taryn’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Cassian. “She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Cassian’s throat tightened as he heard the truth in Taryn’s words, but she wasn’t finished.

“What happened in the cabin… the things she did, what she put herself through, I would never hold it against her.” Taryn shook her head, her voice firm. “She was trying to survive, Cassian. She was suffocating, and she didn’t know how to breathe. None of you were there when it started to break her, and you weren’t there when she pulled herself out of it, either.”

Taryn shrugged, as if dismissing the weight of the conversation, but Cassian felt the words linger in his chest. He still didn’t understand, not fully, but he couldn’t argue with the sincerity in her voice. He followed her anyway, his mind still whirling with the questions, the confusion.

As they turned a corner, the street ahead seemed quieter, warmer. A cozy little neighborhood lined with homes that felt lived in. They stopped in front of one of them—a small, well-kept house. It wasn’t grand or imposing, but there was a charm to it. The brick exterior was a deep shade of red, with ivy creeping up the sides. A small garden sat in front, a few pots of flowers and greenery scattered about.

It was the kind of place that felt like it had a story to tell, and for some reason, Cassian found himself wondering if that story belonged to Nesta now.

Taryn looked up at the house, then over at Cassian. “This is it,” she said simply, her tone softer than before.

Cassian nodded, though his eyes lingered on the house. Something about it felt… real. In a way that he hadn’t expected.

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at the house, the quiet hope bubbling up in his chest. “Is she here?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He couldn’t help it—there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to see her again, to have a chance to talk, to maybe fix what had gone so wrong.

Taryn immediately shook her head, her lips pressing together in a firm line. “No,” she said, her tone almost apologetic. “She’s out running errands.”

Taryn took the bag from Cassian’s hands, her grip firm as she looked up at him, her gaze steady and piercing. “I heard you’ve been asking around about her,” she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge of warning. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she continued. “You should only come around when Nesta allows it, if she ever wants it. You can’t just push your way into her life, not after everything that’s happened.”

Cassian was silent, her words hitting him harder than he expected. His mind raced, thinking of how many times he’d pushed too hard, how many times he’d tried to fix things without considering what Nesta needed. It wasn’t just about him—it was about her.

Taryn turned to walk toward the house, her eyes still on him. “So, if you truly care about her, you’ll wait. You’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Cassian’s voice broke the silence, thick with something that almost sounded like vulnerability. “Do you love her?” he asked, his eyes searching Taryn’s face, desperate for some understanding, some answer he didn’t know he was looking for.

Taryn paused for a moment, her lips curving into a soft but unwavering smile. She looked at him, her gaze filled with both certainty and tenderness. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice quiet but strong. “I do.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. He had never expected such a clear answer, but it stung more than he thought it would. He opened his mouth to say something, but Taryn continued before he could speak.

“To be honest,” she said, her smile softening as her eyes turned distant with the memory, “I’m pretty sure I loved her the first moment I saw her.” She let out a breath, her fingers tightening slightly on the bag she carried. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Cassian stood frozen, the weight of her words settling on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just the admission of love; it was the way Taryn spoke about Nesta, as if she had known her soul since the very beginning. Something in the way Taryn looked at her, something in the way she loved her, made Cassian feel like he was too late.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 42

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 41

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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, light alcohol use, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, heavy kissing/groping, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, oral sex, squirting, fluff

Word Count: 8.8k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 42: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Wednesday, February 14th, 1990

The following few weeks after Eddie's proposal are, in one word, intense. You've got more than too much on your plate lately. Between being in the throes of your final semester of college, to working your ass off at the Hawk keeping the underlings in line, your few remaining waking hours have been spent on wedding-planning. You've enlisted the help of Robin, your maid of honor, as well as Nancy, a bridesmaid, and your mother. Erica is your third and final pick for the bridal party, but she's far too busy with her own school work to help you out. Besides, Mom was practically chomping at the bit to bestow a stack of bridal magazines unto you.

Thus far, planning has been a frenzied mess. You'd hoped that having Nancy around would help you and the other women keep level heads. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You've spent hours and hours with the three of them, circling China patterns, dog-earring pages of wedding gowns, bickering about floral arrangements. You've figured out very few aspects of the wedding at all, besides the guest list and the band. Eddie insisted Corroded Coffin, with Jeff as the front-man, play the reception. He hasn't had much input otherwise, so you agreed. Plus, they've agreed to play any songs you want, and for a very affordable rate. And who are you to turn up your nose at a good deal? It's a known fact within...well, humanity, that weddings aren't cheap.

Despite the numerous, tedious meetings you've been hosting in your apartment, you find yourself right back at square one every time. It's overwhelming. You've got too many voices in your ear, when you assumed four heads would be better than one. By the time everyone leaves for the night, you're left with an overpowering sense of doom. Like nothing you say, or think, or feel about what's meant to be such a momentous day matters.

Eddie tries his best to be of help, soothing your stress headaches and talking you down from hyper-ventilating spirals. You don't even have to explain much of it to him, he's gotten quite an earful by just hanging out in the bedroom while these groupings take place. But it appears that every time he puts you back together, the next time your 'helpers' come over makes you fall apart all over again. You're certain that he's frustrated by it, you definitely are yourself. But he's never shown it, not in an obvious way, at least. Maybe an occasional deep sigh here, or a slight eye roll there. But he never makes you feel like you're burdening him. He would never do that.

"Sweetheart, you fell asleep on the couch again." Eddie whispers, shaking you awake.

"What?" You ask groggily, blinking your eyes open. You find yourself laid out on the sofa, magazines littered with post-its and pen marks covering you in a blanket of glossy paper. An uncapped pen rests stiffly in your hand, it's a wonder you didn't scribble on yourself in your sleep. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't mean to stay up so late with all this." Your neck is sore from sleeping awkwardly on your side, and your clothes from last night cling to you with light sweat. You let out a groan as you twist your head side to side in an effort to alleviate the pain. You move to sit up, a few of the mags slipping down onto the floor.

"It's alright, babydoll. I know making everything perfect is important to you." Eddie replies patiently, bending down to pick up the mess.

"Yeah, spending hours arguing with my mother about hydrangeas and puffy white dresses is real perfect." You scoff, stacking the rest of the magazines on the coffee table.

"Well, maybe it would help to take a break from all the planning, hm?" He suggests, a sly smile on his lips. "A special Valentine's surprise, perhaps?" He says lowly while looking at you from the floor, waiting for a response. He's completely sure you've forgotten about the romantic holiday, which he doesn't blame you for. Life's been kicking your ass lately, and he only wants to make it better.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I forgot!" You scold yourself, smacking your forehead. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible fiancé lately." You sigh, grabbing hold of Eddie's face to plant kisses all over him to beg for forgiveness.

"No you're not, Y/N. You just have a lot goin' on. Which is why I planned everything out, to make tonight totally perfect." Eddie chuckles as you litter his flesh with wet smooches, his hands rubbing your shoulders to let you know it's okay.

"Really?" You stop kissing him, confused that he's somehow fine with you neglecting him. "Are you sure I deserve that? I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, and even less sex. I mean, I've barely even sucked your c一"

"Angel, it's fine." He cuts you off from your self-flagellating rant, speaking to you calmly. He cups your cheek, giving you a warm smile. "Just promise it'll only be me and you tonight. No catalogs, no classes, no customers. Fair enough?"

"More than fair." You nod happily, placing your lips on his for a real kiss. "And I may have forgotten what today is, but I did remember to get you a present." You say eagerly, biting your lip.

"Oh, did you now? When did you ever find the time?" He teases.

"Somewhere between sleepless nights, I'm sure." You giggle, hopping off of the couch to go dig his present out of your special hiding place. The small cabinet above the fridge, where it's too small and high up to store anything kitchen-related. You climb up onto the counter, leaning over to open the cabinet. You pull out a rectangular bundle wrapped in red tissue paper, excitedly jumping back down to the floor afterwards. Eddie stands up to meet you, and you hold the present out to him. "For you, my love."

Eddie takes the gift from you, and tears open the paper to reveal a beautifully crafted leather journal with a three-headed dragon engraved on the front. A smaller matching pouch sits on top, with some fancy pens inside of it. You'd found this gorgeous set at the new-agey shop downtown, beside some bundles of sage and a shelf full of spell books. "These are beautiful, princess." Eddie says, in awe of how detailed the leather work is, his hand running over the hundreds of etched-in scales on the dragon.

"I noticed your notebooks have been getting pretty full lately, figured you could use a new one. For all your amazing drawings and ideas." You explain, adoring the look of wonder on his face. You're so glad he likes them. Although, you could probably wrap up his old socks and still manage to 'wow' him.

"Thank you sweetheart, this is perfect." Eddie rewards you with a tender kiss, his free arm wrapping around you to hold you close.

"I'm glad you like it, Eds." You say softly, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. It's come over you unexpectedly, you suppose it's all that racked-up guilt from the last few weeks. Your bottom lip trembles, betraying your efforts to hide and not ruin this day.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He tuts, wondering what he said or did to upset you. You shake your head, failing to prevent your eyes from tearing up. You know you're being silly. You shouldn't feel bad after he's assured you that everything is fine. "C'mere, love. Talk to me." He insists, leading you to sit back down with him on the couch.

"It's stupid, Eds. Really." You reply through a stifled sob.

"Honey, if it's making you this upset, I'm sure it isn't stupid." Eddie strokes your arms to coax you into talking to him.

You take a minute before answering. "I-I know you said it's fine, but I still feel bad for being so busy all the time. I know I shouldn't, but I do anyway." You explain sadly, searching his eyes for frustration or disappointment, but you find none.

"That's okay, Y/N. I mean, I don't want you to feel bad, obviously. But I don't want you to hide your true feelings from me, either. Just feel 'em, cry it out, and we'll have our romantic date later. 'Kay?" Eddie says, loving as ever. He hates seeing you so sad, over something perfectly normal. But he can't say he wouldn't feel the same if the roles were reversed, if his job and other things in his life monopolized his time instead of you.

"Okay." You nod, shrinking yourself down into his embrace. You're relieved as you break it down for him. How hard work and your classes have been, how Mom and the others have been driving you absolutely crazy. It's nice to let it all out, the stress slowly evaporating alongside your tears. You feel sane again, and less like your head is going to explode. "So, what'd you get me?" You ask, now able to focus on the lovey-dovey activities this special day will bring.

"Sorry, not telling. But you'll find out tonight, babydoll." Eddie chuckles, grateful for your brightening mood.

"Whatever you say, love. You mind making breakfast?" Your stomach growls at the thought of some French toast.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He gives you a brief peck, before getting up to make you some food.

"Mew." Arwen signals her arrival as she hops up onto the couch to see you. She comes right over to your lap, making biscuits on your thighs.

"Good morning, little one. Did you keep daddy company last night?" You ask her, raising a hand to give her some scratches.

"Mew." She replies, closing her eyes and purring loudly at your loving touch.

"I'll take that as a yes." You smile down at the cat, gently rubbing the bridge of her nose. She loves when you do that, instantly melting into your lap. You continue to pet her as Eddie cooks breakfast, joining him at the table once it's ready. You devour the bacon, eggs, and syrupy French toast like a woman starved. You'd forgotten to eat dinner last night after the others had left, too focused on trying to pick out the perfect color scheme. Every last bite is exactly what you need, filling you up nicely.

Once the plates are cleared away, Eddie leads you down the hall to take a shower with him. He turns on the water, and helps you remove your clothes before taking off his own. He sets out a couple fluffy towels, and lets you get under the hot rushing water first. It soaks through your hair and skin, encasing you like a warm blanket. The heat feels good on your neck, as well as Eddie's firm hands that come up to rub your knotted flesh. "You gotta stop sleepin' on that couch, babydoll. Gonna really hurt yourself one of these days." He coos to you as his fingers work to untangle your muscles.

"I know, Eds." You sigh blissfully, backing your body into his. His taut chest meets your back, and you can feel his cock pressing into your ass. He's only half-hard, as he usually is whenever he sees you naked. "Feels good to have your hands on me, though." You let out a breathy moan, tilting your head so he can get your other side more thoroughly.

"I'm well aware, angel. Why else do you think I use them so much?" He chuckles lowly, bringing his lips to kiss your shoulder. A pit of lust forms in your stomach at the contact, only growing deeper as his mouth travels slowly towards your throat. Your heart begins to beat faster, your chest practically heaving from his touch. It's barely anything at all, but neither of you have been getting much in the way of intimacy lately. Eddie continues massaging your neck, eliciting quiet moans from you all the while. His cock stiffens with each one, poking you more and more firmly as the seconds pass. When he deems your neck adequately attended to, his lips lay a blazing trail along your throat. And his left hand snakes down the front of your body, making a small detour at your breast. He cups and squeezes the mound of your chest.

"Eddie..." You whimper, pushing yourself further into him. His thumb and forefinger roll your nipple in their grip, gently tweaking it. You can sense how soaked you are for him, despite the hot water rushing down your chest, stomach, and thighs.

"Let me make you feel good, sweetheart." Eddie purrs in your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

"What about you?" You ask, turning your head to look back at him.

"We'll worry about me later. It's your turn right now." He says sweetly, his eyes blown wide with desire. Sure, his dick is getting very hard, precum leaking profusely from its tip. But he wants to make you come undone more than anything. You've been putting yourself through the wringer lately, you need this. You give him a silent nod, facing forward again. "Good girl." He praises, nipping your neck with his teeth. His hand ventures lower, running across your belly and effortlessly dipping between your thighs.

"Fuck." Your hips buck once his middle finger brushes against your clit, but his free arm wraps around you to keep you close to him. He rubs lazy circles on your bud, occasionally sliding through your folds to spread your arousal.

"So fuckin' wet for me, baby." Eddie groans against your throat, leaving a dark hickey in his wake.

"Only for you, love." You moan in response, your hands grabbing at his hairy thighs for purchase. These few seconds of pleasure he's brought you so far are more than enough to have your knees giving out.

"That's right... just for me." He chuckles darkly, teasing your tight entrance with the tips of his fingers. Barely dipping inside half a centimeter, before ducking out again. "You're my girl...my fiancé...and soon, you'll be my wife. All mine, my perfect little slut." He speaks explicitly into your ear, his breath fanning hotly against you as his thick fingers finally dive inside your pussy.

"Yours, all yours!" You moan loudly at his digits filling you up, your nails digging into his legs. Eddie curls his knuckles slowly at first, marveling at your obscene noises. Your head has fallen back against his shoulder, your eyes blissfully closed as sensation builds inside of you. Your lips are parted enough to let out delicious whimpers and utterances of his name, and your cunt squelches around his fingers as he fucks them into you.

"God, you're already so fucked for me...been too long. Hasn't it, love?" He asks, increasing his pace just a little.

"Yes, fuck, I've missed this." You nod your head.

"So have I, baby." Eddie kisses you again, curling and thrusting his fingers more roughly now. His fingertips hit your sweet-spot with precision, pressing the spongy bit of flesh again and again.

"Oh, god. Just like that, Eddie. Don't stop." You moan to him how good it feels, how perfectly he's able to reach inside you.

"Yeah? You like the way I fuck your pretty little pussy? You're makin' such a mess on my hand, sweetheart." He continues to talk dirty in a groaning tone, every word building your pleasure up. Your juices are pooling in his palm, spilling over to coat your thighs. His cock rubs against your ass absently, desperate for friction. Watching you fall apart like this is driving him crazy, and you can feel his excitement dripping down the curve of your behind.

"Turn around, Eds. I wanna touch you too." You beg, itching to get your hands on him. You try to swivel yourself around, but it's a bit hard to do in this position.

"Relax, Y/N. You'll get what you want." Eddie coos, stilling you with his arm so you don't get hurt. He carefully pulls his hand away, allowing you to face him. You immediately grab hold of his throbbing dick, stroking him with your wetted hand. "Fuck, baby. So impatient." He chuckles through a groan. He savors your touch on him for a moment, watching your hollowed fist pump up and down his length. Pearly pre-cum oozes from him with every stroke, needy sounds escaping his lips. He leads you back against the shower wall, and slips his fingers into your cunt again. His free hand cages you in, his musky scent filling your nostrils as it's yet to be washed away.

"I love you, Eddie." You say softly, your breath catching in your throat as Eddie adopts a faster pace than before. The coil inside you grows tighter, and you gaze adoringly into his eyes as he pounds you.

"I love you too, princess." He grunts, eyes rolling back slightly as you rub his swollen cockhead with your thumb. He won't last much longer if you keep it up. Eddie presses his lips to yours as you hastily get each other off, his tongue tangling with your own instantly. You make out heavily under the rain of the shower head, murmuring thoughtless phrases along the lines of 'faster, harder' and 'feels so good, baby'. Your minds run a mile a minute, hands pumping rabidly, tongues dancing with unwavering hunger. Wet noises fill the room alongside your moans. You don't want to stop kissing, or touching. Not for a single second. Your bodies ache for one another, it's a miracle you're able to resist full-on fucking until later on. You have to make each other cum, now more than ever.

"I'm getting close, baby. Your fingers feel so good inside me, please make me cum." You moan as your high is about to take you over. Your walls flutter around Eddie's hand, signaling your end.

"I'm right there, too, angel. Just keep stroking my cock, be a good girl for me." Eddie groans back, his stomach threatening to tense any second now.

"Oh, god, fuck!" You cry out as your orgasm bursts inside your core, consuming your entire being in roaring flames. You clamp down around Eddie's fingers, sticky release gushing out of you. Your thighs tremble, near enough to make you fall over.

"Shit..." He gasps, before letting out a loud moan. His hips stutter, bucking against your hand as thick ropes of white shoot out of his cock. They spill onto your fingers, your stomach, even your tits. He slumps forward, burying his head in your neck until his high slips away. You're left sweaty and panting against the wall for a few minutes, exchanging a couple more flaming kisses in the aftermath. You pull away at some point, with you releasing his cock from your grip, while he slips his fingers out of you. You taste Eddie's cum on your hand, humming in satisfaction at the sweetness of it. He does the same, sucking his wrinkled fingers clean. "You have no idea how much I needed that, babydoll." Eddie grins, taking your hand in his.

"Believe me, I needed it just as much as you did." You smile back, reaching for the shampoo. "We'd better wash up before the hot water runs out." You squirt some of the soap into your hands, before passing the bottle off to him.

You spend the brief amount of time you have to shower in a comfortable temperature getting yourselves nice and squeaky clean. Afterwards, you slip into some comfy pajamas and curl up together on the couch. Eddie pops in one of the cheesy romantic movies you'd rented into the VCR, pulling a blanket over the two of you to get comfortable. He keeps you close in his arms, making you feel warm and secure as he always does. This lazy afternoon is exactly what you need to recharge prior to your special night out later on. You spend hours just like this, watching film after film and munching on some popcorn. Say Anything, Pretty in Pink, and a horror by the name of My Bloody Valentine that Eddie happened to sneak in the mix are the showings for today. Not a bad bunch, in your opinion. You've been sworn to secrecy on the issue, but Eddie loves John Hughes movies. In his own words, they're very 'real', and you definitely agree.

In the early evening, Eddie leaves you alone for a minute to prepare his surprise for you in the bedroom. You're painfully curious as to what it is, but you resist the urge to lean over and have a peek down the hall. "Okay, it's ready!" Eddie calls to you, giving you the go-ahead to find your present.

"Coming!" You practically spring from the couch, skittering down the hall to join him. You find him sitting on the side of the bed, with two nicely-wrapped gifts beside him. One is a large red box with a big bow on top, and the other is a pink bag with sparkly tissue inside.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart." Eddie says with a smile, eager to see what you think. You step closer to the larger gift, pulling the lid off the box. There's paper inside, concealing the contents further. You unfold it, revealing a gorgeous, baby pink satin dress and matching shoes. The dress is very similar to ones you already own, meant to show as much skin as possible. But this beautiful color has yet to grace your closet. You pull it out of the box, holding it up to yourself to guess how it'll look on you.

"This is beautiful, Eds! And you got the right size and everything!" You beam, dying to try it on.

"There's more, angel." Eddie smirks, picking up the smaller bag to hand to you. You take it from his grip, immediately tossing the paper out of it. And you find a luxurious set of lingerie inside, which matches the dress. There's a strapless bustier, cheeky panties, a garter belt. It even comes with pink fishnet stockings.

"Eddie, I love it!" You give him a thankful kiss, setting the present down to climb onto his lap and straddle him. "They're so pretty, baby. I can't wait to wear them." You say with gratitude, smiling brightly.

"Well, you won't have to wait long. Because we're going out for dinner." Eddie grins mischievously, having yet another surprise to reveal.

"Ooh! Where are we going?" You ask excitedly, bouncing in his lap.

"Enzo's. That fancy Italian place. I know you've always wanted to go there." He explains, and you can't help tackling him further onto the bed and enthusiastically gracing his handsome, adorable face with kisses.

"Enzo's! Are you serious!? You are the sweetest man in the entire world! I love you so, so much! And I am gonna fuck your brains out when we come back home!" You exclaim, repeatedly kissing his cheeks, chin, and forehead. Eddie giggles madly as you do this, your lips beginning to tickle him.

"I'm just giving the most amazing woman in the world everything she deserves, sweetheart." His hands grip your hips, hoping for some semblance of stability as you continue to smooch the hell out of him. His face has gone red in his laughter, he can barely breathe. But he'd happily suffocate in your affection, so long as it never goes away.

"This 'most amazing woman' is me, right?" You ask jokingly, ceasing your love-attack.

"Yes, Y/N. Who else could make me as happy as you do?" He says honestly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear and gazing deep into your eyes.

"Shit, I've converted you into a full-blown romantic, haven't I?" You tease. Never in your life did you think you'd ensnare the heart of the bristly metalhead, who used to have quite a reputation for throwing diatribal tantrums in the middle of the cafeteria. But here he is, currently pinned down by your body, on your shared bed, and engaged to you.

"Hey, now. I happen to think I've always had some Casanova-like qualities." He chuckles. "But, I'll admit I didn't think I could be so insanely in love with someone, the way I am with you." Maybe a few years ago, he would've cringed at himself for saying such sappy things. But as sickly sweet as the words may be, they ring true for him now that he has you in his life. And there's no way he could ever go back to being that same cynical dickhead from before. The one who thought love was just a scam to sell greeting cards and shitty chocolate. If anything, he'd go back and smack some sense into his younger self. To tell third-time senior Eddie to nut up and ask you out like he'd been dying to.

But he supposes you wouldn't be where you are now if he had. Immature Eddie would've probably skipped out on you at the first sign of trouble, awful as that is to admit. He was dealing with a lot of his own bullshit back then, there's no way he could've been what you needed. Eddie's not too big a fan of the word 'fate', or the concept behind it. The idea that there's no true free will, that somehow everything is predetermined, and everyone is set on an inescapable path from birth. He likes to think he has more control over his own life and future than that. But he will say that he's lucky as hell to have you be his girl. His woman. He'll do everything to avoid squandering this wonderful thing he has with you. This deep, meaningful, sappy, sweet, hopeless, romantic, love.

"I didn't think I could either, Eds. Seeing my parents fall apart definitely put me off of romance for a very long time." You say, not breaking this intense stare you're both captured in. "But I know we aren't like my parents, or yours. What we have is real, and perfect, and wonderful. I'm never letting this fade. Ever."

"Neither am I, Y/N." He shakes his head, raising his head to give you a gentle kiss. It doesn't last long, since you have a reservation that Eddie worked very hard to get. "Let's get dressed, sweetheart. Dinner is at six." He pats your thighs, waiting for you to get up.

"Don't mind if I do." You say giddily, rolling off of him towards your pretty new things.

"It's nice to see you excited about something again." Eddie smiles, watching you quickly remove your pajamas to reveal your gorgeous body.

"It's nice to be excited, love. Everything has just been so much lately, I haven't had the time to enjoy planning our special day." You sigh, pulling the brand new lingerie out of its bag. You remove the tags, putting the pieces on one by one.

"Believe me, I know." He keeps observing you as you pull the panties up to your hips, your hands fastening the front of the bustier, your fingers rolling the hosiery over your thighs and clipping them in place. "Lemme look at you for a sec, baby. I've been dyin' to see this on you. My vivid imagination can only do so much." He gestures for you to stand before him, do a little rotation to show off your assets.

"Anything for you." You giggle at his ogling, moving over so he can see you fully. You feel so sexy in this getup, the fabric is absolutely delicious against your skin. And the look on Eddie's face makes you feel like the hottest woman on the entire planet. You turn around, giving him a good look at your ass swallowing up the panties, the straps of the garter running up the backs of your thighs. 

"Fuck..." He mutters, his dick twitching at just how exquisite you look in this little number. Shit, if you didn't have a reservation, he'd bend you over right here and now. "I hate to flatter my own shopping skills, but I don't think you've ever looked sexier." Eddie grins, pleased with himself. The sales girl was very helpful at the store, although she offered to model this for him. Which he quickly and politely declined.

"And I'm inclined to agree. I feel unbelievably hot right now." You say as you turn back around again. You continue getting ready, pulling out the dress and heels from their box. "So, what are you wearing to dinner?" You ask curiously.

"I bought a new shirt, and a jacket, too. Figure if you're gonna look this incredible tonight, I ought to do the same." He replies, getting up to pull his new clothes out of the closet. You catch a glimpse of a dark purple button-up shirt, and a black jacket to match the slacks he already owns.

"Purple? That's a new color for you." You observe, you honestly can't think of a time where he's worn anything that isn't black or red, or occasionally blue. But you can tell that the fit and hue he picked is going to make him good enough to eat.

"I decided to branch out." He says casually, not thinking much of it. It felt right when he tried it on in the men's dressing room, his other nice shirts fit a bit too loose on him. He wanted something that truly belongs to him, not some hand-me-down from Wayne or the thrift store. Eddie strips off his comfy clothes, pulling some black boxers from the dresser, and some socks.

You both get dressed, keeping pretty quiet as you do. In a way, you're separating yourselves, so you can have a 'final reveal' once you're ready to go. You slip into your dress, and pull the heels onto your stockinged feet. You pick out a few pieces of gold jewelry to compliment the outfit, applying some light makeup with a glossy lip. You put your hair up in a ponytail, fanning out the ends a little.

When you return from the bathroom, you find Eddie standing fully dressed before you. And, hot damn, is he yummy. He's got one foot crossed over the other all suave-looking, his jacket held over his shoulder in one hand. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail, keeping the wild curls in line for a night. And the shirt...it's exactly what you pictured once he brought it out of the closet. It fits him well, showing off the muscles in his arms and chest, without being too tight. It's tucked neatly into his slacks, a couple of the top buttons left open to display the chain he never takes off.

"Fuckin' A, Eds. You look...wow." You're speechless, and about to bite a hole through your lip as you commit this image to memory.

"Likewise, princess. Very wow." Eddie teases with a smirk, though he's at a loss for more complex words himself. It's like night and day, going from ratty pajamas to puttin' on the ritz. To him, you look like a movie star. "Ready to paint the town, honey?" He asks, extending his ringed hand for you to take.

"I'll bring a brush." You quip, holding Eddie's hand and letting him lead you to the front door. You grab a jacket and your purse on the way out, giving Arwen a quick pat goodbye.

Eddie drives you to the restaurant, where you're promptly greeted and seated at a small table in the back of the dining room. Tea light candles in small red holders sit on the clean white tablecloth, silverware and empty glasses set out neatly. Eddie pulls out your chair for you, and you sit down and let him push you in once you've removed your jacket. He sits across from you, forcing himself not to slouch. The waiter takes your drink order, suggesting a bottle of wine. You agree with his recommendation, and he leaves you to look over the menu.

"Whatcha thinkin', angel?" Eddie asks, weighing his options. The steak sounds nice, but pasta wouldn't be too bad, either.

"The ravioli sounds good." You answer, your mouth watering at the idea of cheesy pockets of pasta in rich tomato sauce. "What about you?" Your eyes flick up to him.

"I was thinking steak." He replies, reaching across the table to take your free hand. It may be a small amount of distance, but he feels miles away from you. You take hold of him without a second thought, sharing the sentiment.

"Ooh, big spender." You tease, though your eyes widen a little when you glance at the prices for each cut of steak. Jesus, do they butcher the cow fresh, or something?

"It's not that bad. We can afford to splurge once in a while." Eddie chuckles, thinking nothing of it. You're not the only one who knows how to be thrifty where it counts, or likes to squirrel money away. You've earned this spendy night out, and then some.

"I know, love. And I'm so happy you brought me here tonight. It's perfect." You beam through the dim lighting, looking around at the other couples sitting all around you. Dressed to the nines in suits and sparkly dresses, dripping with gold and diamonds. The waiters flit about effortlessly, clearing tables, pouring wine, presenting meals. There's even a string quartet on the other side of the restaurant, playing romantic songs at an ambient volume.

"I'm glad you're having a good time, Y/N. I was a little worried you'd disappear into your own head again." He says, relieved that his romancing is working to ease your mind. You're a tough nut to crack at times, no matter what he does in order to console you.

"So was I. But I'm right here, in this wonderful place, with you." You reassure him that you aren't going anywhere, that you intend to be fully present with him tonight. He's put in so much effort to make this go right, and it wouldn't be fair to ruin that.

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter asks, pouring deep red wine into your glasses.

"Yes. I'll have the ribeye, medium-rare, with the corn and mashed potatoes." Eddie answers.

"And for you, miss?" The waiter turns to you.

"The ravioli, please." You say shortly.

"Wonderful. I'll put that in for you right away. Please, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you." The waiter says politely, before toddling off to give your order to the kitchen.

You and Eddie talk casually while you wait for your food to arrive, about small things. Like Arwen's next check-up, items you have to add to the grocery list, the need for a new set of sheets. Innocuous, domestic things. The air between you two is serene, and comfortable. You don't talk about work, or the wedding, or school. There's no need for the stressors in your life to invade this peaceful bubble you're floating around in.

The food arrives pretty quickly, and you don't hesitate to dive in. Politely, of course. You have no reason to gobble up your dinner like animals. You take your time, savoring every last delectable bite. You take small sips of wine to wash it down, you don't want to get drunk tonight. You want to be as clear-headed as you can for what comes after your return home. The waiter comes by again to collect your empty plates once you're stuffed full, asking if you want dessert. You decline, unable to have another bite. Eddie pays the check, and you leave arm in arm, with content smiles and satisfied stomachs.

"Fuck, that was good." Eddie says as you return to the apartment. He closes the door behind you, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Yes, it was, baby. But I think there's something even better waiting for you in the bedroom." You reply coyly.

"And what would that be?" He asks with a knowing grin.

"Me!" You laugh giddily, before dashing down the hall, prompting Eddie to chase you. You can hear him right behind you, his footfalls landing on the floor with rushed purpose as he cackles. You just barely make it in the room and jump on the bed with an excited squeal. Eddie's on you in seconds, chuckling darkly as he rolls you over and pins you to the bed.

"Gotcha." He grins, holding your wrists above your head, weighing you down with his lower half. He leans in to kiss you roughly, slipping his steak-stained tongue into your mouth.

"Mmm." You hum into the kiss, loving the way he's taking control of you like this. You've been craving it from the moment you saw him in his sexy new shirt. It took everything in you not to pounce on him earlier. His thigh slots between your legs, pushing your dress up as he rubs your clothed heat. "Eddie." You moan against his lips at the tease, rolling your hips up to get more friction. The curve of his thigh runs over your clit, making you gasp. Your new panties are quickly getting soaked, sure to leave a damp spot on his pants.

"Mmm, naughty girl." Eddie smirks at you essentially humping his leg, desperate for his touch in seconds flat. He takes his thigh away, much to your dismay. You whine at the loss of him, but he just gently shushes you. He holds your wrists together with one hand, reaching the other down to stroke your pussy through the satin. "Fuck, baby. You're such a mess. This all for me?" He asks, finding your swollen bud hiding under the sodden fabric and rubbing barely-there circles over it.

"Yes, love. All for you." You pant, your thighs begging to clamp shut and trap his hand in place.

"Let's get you outta this dress." Eddie says, reaching for the hem and pulling the garment up towards your head. It's tossed away to the floor, leaving you in the sexy lingerie he'd bought for you. His pupils go wide as saucers at the sight of you, his hands running along your sides to feel all your curves. "God, look at you. Wrapped up so nice for me, like a pretty little present." He purrs, fixated on your tits being pushed together in the bustier. His hand returns between your legs, making much more purposeful circles. The other goes to open the clasps concealing your breasts from him.

"Eddie." You moan at his touch on your clit again, watching helplessly as he exposes your tits for him. The bustier falls open, your boobs bouncing in their freedom. Eddie lowers his head to capture one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, causing your back to arch off the bed. Your hands rip the elastic from his hair, weaving your fingers in his thick tresses. You continue to moan aloud for him as his tongue rolls around your pebbled flesh and his finger rubs you through your drenched panties. "Baby...I-I need you..." You whine, wanting him to give you more. You're already burning up from the inside out, but it's not nearly enough.

"What do you need from me, sweetheart? Hm? Use your words." He smirks at you from his position on your chest.

"I need you out of these clothes, Eds. I wanna feel you." You answer impatiently, attempting to reach for the buttons on his shirt.

"Yeah? You wanna strip me down, princess?" He asks cooly, putting himself directly above you.

"Mhm." You nod, biting your lip in excitement.

"Knock yourself out." He chuckles at your eagerness, rolling you both over to put you on top. You straddle his lap, feeling his stiff erection inside his slacks. You waste no time in undoing the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails out of his pants. He kicks off his shoes to help out a little, just as you've exposed his chest. You lean down to pay him back, planting searing kisses on his skin. You trace his tattoos with your tongue, biting on his nipples. Eddie breathes heavily, a small moan escaping him every so often in your worship.

"You're so gorgeous, Eds. I'll never get enough of this body." You praise, venturing lower to kiss down his stomach and towards his belt. You roll your hips over him, moaning as his shaft makes contact with your clit through the layers of fabric. Eddie groans beneath you, his hands gripping your waist to guide you. You fiddle around with his belt, not trying very hard to remove it as you grind into him. You keep going just like this for a few minutes, riling the both of you up. But it's still not enough to satisfy you. "I want you so bad, love. Need you inside me." With a newfound urgency, you finally manage to undo his belt and unzip his pants.

"I need you too, babydoll." Eddie says, no complaints on his end. He sits up to shuck his shirt from his torso, and kicks his slacks off his legs once you've pushed them down toward his ankles. You hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock slaps against his stomach, heavy and swollen at the tip. You don't slow down, grabbing hold of him and getting up on your knees. Nevermind you're still wearing most of your ensemble, heels and all. You don't have time to care, you want to ride him now. You hastily pull your panties to the side, positioning yourself over Eddie's tip. "Fuck." He groans as you run his tip through your slick folds.

"Ready, baby?" You ask with a pleased grin, savoring how his fat cock feels running along your slit.

"Always." He nods, needing you to take him inside already. Your teasing is getting to be a bit much. Without another word, you slowly sink down on his dick. Low moans leave you both, your hands falling to his chest to hold yourself up, his own squeezing your hips. He fills you up entirely, reaching every single spot inside your cunt. Your walls clench around him once you bottom out, making Eddie mutter swears under his breath.

"Mmm, filling up my pussy just right, Eds. I fuckin' love your cock." You giggle happily, relieved to finally have what you've been wanting all damn day. What you've been wanting for weeks. Just you and him in your shared bed, with no one and nothing getting in the way. Staying fully seated on him, you rock your hips back and forth lazily. You want to enjoy this as much as you can. You capture Eddie's lips with yours, kissing him deeply, hungrily.

He hums against you, hands wandering to caress your back and sides, occasionally dipping down to massage the swells of your ass. Your tongues fight for dominance, though Eddie lets you win before long. With the way your pussy is squeezing him, he can't focus enough to put up a good fight. Your slow rocking makes him grow more and more needy, his gentle touches becoming harder and rougher. "Y/N, please. I need you to fuck me." Eddie groans, pulling away from your lips to breathe.

"Now who's impatient?" You tease, sitting up so you can start riding him. You lift yourself up, your ass smacking against his pelvis once you crash back down. "Fuck." You gasp as his tip hits your cervix. You start to bounce steadily on his dick, bracing your hands on his chest and gazing down at him as you moan.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. Love seeing your pretty face, hearing your sexy noises. And the way your tits bounce, and my cock filling your hot, wet pussy. It's all so beautiful, sweetheart." Eddie says earnestly, his words dripping with lust. You truly are a vision above him, borderline angelic. Your head thrown back, face twisted in pleasure as you sing praises of his ample length piercing you again and again. And seeing your bottom half still clothed in the sexy pink set he bought you, the fact that you were too desperate for him to even take your shoes off. He could just about die.

"And I love giving you a show, Eds." You smile down at him, blushing at his admiration. You have quite the view yourself, Eddie's hair splayed out on the bed, his big brown eyes blown wide with want, his lips parted to moan and say filthy things to you. He's such a talker in bed, which you adore immensely. Anyone else even attempting to do so would be like nails on a chalkboard to you. But Eddie's mastered the art, knowing what words to use, which ones to avoid. He can predict what occasions call for sweeter phrasings, which opportunities require downright obscene revelations. You attribute this to his impeccable story-telling abilities. Whether it's an elaborate D&D campaign, or trying to make you cum, his mouth instinctively knows all the right things to say.

You keep up like this, riding his cock like it's your day job. You don't go too fast, you don't want either of you to cum so soon. But it's a consistent, steady pace that allows you to feel every inch of each other. You can't stop moaning and cursing, the sound mingling with the thick slapping of skin on skin. Your bodies sweat as pleasure builds inside of you, the temperature in the room rapidly reaching a thousand degrees.

"Mind if I have a turn, sweetheart?" Eddie asks. He's having the time of his life letting you take the wheel, but he notices your movements becoming a bit strained after a while. He can tell when you're running out of steam, and he's more than willing to lend a hand.

"You know me too well, Eds." You let out a breathlessly laugh, thankful he's going to take over. Much as you enjoy riding him like a stallion, your thighs are burning as you've reached your limit. You still yourself, laying your body on his so he can roll you both over to take the reigns. His knees push up to spread your thighs open for him, propping himself on his elbows to close you in. He knows what you want, to be completely surrounded by him.

"Better?" He asks, stroking your hip as he checks in on you.

"Much better, love. Thank you." You nod gratefully, giving him a warm kiss.

"'Course." He says quietly against your lips, continuing to kiss you heavily. He doesn't start moving just yet, enjoying this intimate moment with you. You're nearly melting into the bed as he envelops you entirely, tenting your knees at his hips to fully close the seal he's created. His scent takes over your nose, spicy cologne and coconut shampoo mingling with sweat. Eddie lowers his lips to your neck, methodically ravishing your flesh. You cling to his back with your hands, nails digging into the skin. Sensing your want for him to get things going again, he slowly pulls out, before slipping back inside.

"Oh, Eddie..." You sigh as his cock pumps in and out in tender strokes. Every sedate thrust reads as a passionate declaration of love. Eddie keeps marking up your neck, holding your waist in his large hands as he pumps his hips. He's gonna take his time, build you up so agonizingly slow, that you're screaming his name once you finally come crashing down. "Feels so good, baby." You say softly, your eyes falling closed in bliss. Your arms have fully wrapped around him now, needing to hold him as closely as possible.

"Yeah? You like it when I take it slow with you?" He asks sweetly, licking warm circles around a purple hickey he's left on you.

"Mhm, I love being so close to you. It's like we become something bigger, together." You reply, your voice content, the words like silk on your tongue.

"And I thought I had a way with words." Eddie chuckles, lifting his head to look in your eyes. His pelvis still pivots into yours, but he adopts a slightly faster, rougher speed. Just enough to really get you going.

"Fuck, baby." You whimper as his cock hits your g-spot more precisely. You can't stop staring up at him, entranced by his adoring eyes. His body shifts back and forth above you with every thrust, and you can picture how his length looks disappearing inside your cunt. You're absolutely drenched around him, you have been the entire time. And the method he's employing only makes you wetter by the second. Your arousal slicks over him repeatedly, forming a sticky ring around the base of him.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Always keeps me slidin' in and out so smooth." He says lowly, every syllable sounding comparable to Shakespearian poetry to your keen ears.

"And only you can make me this way, Eds. With your perfect lips..." You brush your fingertips across his mouth. "...your thick fingers..." You take one of his hands in your own, interlacing your fingers and squeezing gently. "...and your massive cock." You clench your walls around him on purpose, making him gasp. You giggle when he falters in his thrusts, but his eyes never leave you for a second. "You make me feel amazing, baby." You squeeze his hand again, earning one back.

"God, I love you." Eddie says hurriedly, pressing his lips to yours.

"I love you too, Eddie." You pant through the gaps in this breathless kiss. Eddie picks up speed again, your chest arching up into his. He's still not going nearly as fast as he usually does, but it's blowing your mind all the same. His hips roll with determination, hitting your sweet-spot every single time. "Don't stop, love. This一 fuck, this feels really good." You whimper, further clinging onto him.

"I won't ever stop unless you ask me to, princess." He grunts, not changing a single thing about what he's doing. If it's even possible, you're more soaked than before. He keeps going, pistoning his dick inside your pussy with the same motivation you'd had earlier on.

"Yes, yes, yes...God, Eddie...you fuck me so good." Messy utterances babble from your lips, you've gone completely cock-drunk. You know you're getting close, and Eddie does, too.

"Take it, baby, s'all for you. Such a good girl for me, can't wait for you to soak my cock." Eddie groans, his words flowing right into your ear as his head falls to rest beside your own.

"Keep going, love. I'm getting close." Your legs wrap around his middle, high heels digging into the apex of his back as you pull him closer.

"Me too, angel." He huffs against your neck, pinning your hand to the bed and interlocking his fingers with yours again. He thrusts himself into you with the tiniest bit more force, nearing his end as his balls start tightening.

"Fuck! Right there!" You whine, your orgasm creeping closer by the second. Your insides are doing their tell-tale convulsions, letting the beautiful man above you know what's about to happen.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me." He purrs, bringing his other hand down to rub quick circles on your clit. His words and the added contact are all you need to explode into smithereens.

"Oh, Eddie...oh, god!" You hold onto Eddie for dear life as your high takes you over. Your entire body trembles, cries of ecstasy ripping from your lungs. Your pussy pulses and constricts around his cock, and you cum harder than you have in a while. Juices spurt out of you, drenching Eddie's length, wetting your thighs and the bed.

"Good girl, make a big mess for me." Eddie almost growls, his eyes rolling back at your cunt hosing him down. He keeps thrusting to meet his end, hips bucking wildly as his stomach finally tenses up. "Fuck, Y/N..." You feel his thick cum fill you up, your pleasure extended as he rides his out. He collapses on top of you once he's done, pressing whispers of kisses on your cheeks, neck, and shoulders. "Happy Valentine's Day, babydoll. I love you so much." Eddie says softly, unable to fully remove his mouth from you.

"I love you too, Eds. Happy Valentine's Day." You reply, still floating weightlessly on cloud nine. You stroke his hair with your fingers, rumbling hums vibrating in his chest when you rub his scalp. Eddie carefully pulls his softened cock out of you, watching your mixed release ooze from your cunt. He licks his lips hungrily, lowering his head between your legs. Looks like he's found dessert. "Eddie!" You yelp in surprise as his tongue licks through your folds, your clit still sparking.

"I'm not nearly done with you yet, sweetheart." Eddie says darkly, his hooded eyes flicking up to look at you. The intense hunger in his pupils tells you it's going to be a long night. And you have no objections whatsoever.

To be continued…

[brickeater712]

mesmerism

cw: professor!chameleon x student!reader, reader is in university and of age, hypnotism, cunnilingus, power bottom chameleon, strap-ons, nonconsensual mind snooping (???), semi-public sex at the end, very bad understanding of the human sexuality syllabus

a/n: sorry to anyone who takes or has taken the human sexuality program.

you don’t quite remember the exact moment she had wormed her way into your mind. you don’t recall when you had started looking at your psychology professor that way, and you certainly don’t remember the first time you lay on your bed, thrusting your fingers deep into your dripping cunt to the thought of her. and most importantly, you definitely don’t remember a quarter of your lesson material- because you were too busy dreaming away about your professor.

you think it’s not obvious. you hope it’s not. but you don’t know that your professor notices every tint of red on your cheeks and flits of your eyes. 

at first, she downplays it as nothing more than a fidgety student. but with every lesson that passes by, her interests grows- especially after watching the way you’d cutely ask her questions after class. 

“mi- miss theseus?” 

your professor turns around to see you, bright eyes staring up at her curiously. she smiles, noting the enthusiasm in your demeanor- and perhaps, something more than that. 

“hello, darling,” she watches as your face flushes ever so slightly, “have a question?”

“well… it’s somewhat embarrassing, but- i was just wondering… is there truly no difference between a vaginal and clitorial orgasm? if they both originate from different spots, surely they aren't the same…”

you flush as you ask the question. her lips curl into a little smile.

strange, she wonders. no one has asked her this question before, if she recalls. the only way someone would have to ask if-

“never had either before?” she teases, but manages to infer from your reaction that she was right. she relishes in the way your eyes look elsewhere and the shuffling of your feet.

you're quick to deny it, but she already knows. no matter- she can always touch on that again on a future date.

it was never just one occurrence, either. many times you would approach her, asking… questions… that might hint at something more than an educational curiosity. 

“would you know if homosexuals have better communication than heterosexuals…?” 

a thinly veiled implication.

“well, i wouldn’t know about the latter…” she mused, and walked off, leaving you to think about the answer.

she could hear an almost-silent squeal from you.

you pique her interest- more so than she would've expected. she enjoys observing the way your fingers fiddle with each other whenever you speak to her. it doesn't take long for her to begin sorting through your mind with her little tricks- 

only to see the perverted little fantasies that you hoard- especially in her classes. she tends to find you thinking about her thighs - wondering how she'd look in a gorgeous low cut blouse.

of course, she doesn't hesitate to wear one the next day, leaving you nearly drooling onto your lap. she had fun poking around your mind that day- filled with thoughts of eating her out on her teacher's desk. 

this little game of hers continues for weeks, sifting through your head to pick out your preferences- what makes you fidget, what makes you flustered. she ups the ante as well, walking up behind you when you least expect it, placing a gentle hand on your trembling shoulder. 

you remember her leaning in close, close enough that the scent of her perfume overwhelms you, and her breast only lightly brushes against your hair, and that was only for a mere few seconds before you mutter out something about ‘going to the bathroom’, and scampering out of the classroom like a little mouse.

all she did was giggle, and return to her table.

the day she decides to start her little plan is a mundane one- at least for you. well, nothing out of the ordinary about your fantasies anyways- except for one at the very back of your mind, that she couldn’t quite reach herself. what better way to expose it than getting you to say it?

you only snap out of your daydreams when you feel your professor’s presence behind you- whipping your head around quickly to see her smiling down at you. 

“see me after class. i have something to show you.” she walks away without turning around, leaving you vibrating in excitement in your seat. time passes by as slowly as ever- until finally, the bell rings, and the rest of the students filter out of the classroom one by one, except you.

when the last student finally exits, she looks up from her work to you staring directly at her, and beckons you to come forward with a wave of her finger. 

you stumble forward, nearly falling flat on your face. “yes, ms theseus?” you ask, wondering why she'd ask you to stay behind.

“don't be too worried dear, you're not in trouble.” she muses. “i’m just here to ask you about something.”

you nod your head curiously, waiting for her to continue.

“i was wondering- what do you think of hypnotism in therapy?” 

“mmm…” you think out loud. your professor was never one to hide details about her career- once mentioning the way she dabbled in hypnotherapy. 

“well, i don’t particularly know how useful it would be for all patients, especially since not everyone has the same hypnotizability rate, and it doesn’t change with age…” you offer your opinion thoughtfully.

“what about if you were the patient? what do you think?” 

“me…? i… uh…” you trail off, suddenly experiencing a strange feeling rising in your gut. 

you stop mumbling as you watch her take her pocket watch attached to her belt. before you can ask what she was doing, she puts it in front of your face and snaps !

you blink confusedly, feeling no change in your body. that is, until she decided to ask a question. “well, let’s try it right now. what do you feel?”

you try to speak, but the words that come out of your mouth don’t feel like yours- or at least they feel like they’ve been forced out of you. “afraid.” you blurt out, and slap your hand over your mouth immediately after.

she stands up and advances towards you. “really? afraid? of what?” she almost-whispers, trying to pry an answer out of you.

you can only take steps backward. “of, of-” you stutter, trying to suppress the words bubbling in your throat. 

“tell your professor, darling- are you hiding something from me?” she presses harder, cornering you as your ass hits the table behind you. nowhere to run. 

“n-no…” you look away, avoiding eye contact. 

“really? nothing like, say, a fantasy-” 

you cut her off with words that force their way out of your mouth once again. “of you?” your eyes widen and your body starts to tremble. 

“that’s right.” you don’t see it, but her lips curl into a sneer. “tell me more.” 

not a question, a command. 

“of, of you…” you try to swallow down the fantasy prodding inside your head, but her power is much stronger than that. “...taking me on your lap-” when the words are uttered, your core flares to life, arousal coursing through your body, despite your vocal autonomy not being your own. 

“mm. anything else, dear?” she pushes even harder. 

tears well up in your eyes, but your core gets wet too- being cornered by your favourite professor like this. she places a hand on your shoulder, making you shake harder. 

“um- uh, spanking me… in your office… telling me to keep quiet… while other people walk past…” you mumble out- embarrassed of that fantasy in particular. 

what a cute thing she’s been hiding from me, she wonders. with that, she retreats, leaving you with room to catch your breath. 

“well, that’s all i have to ask for now, darling. next time,” she mumbles, “will be a lot more… exciting.” just like that, before you can react to anything, she raises her hand and snap!

you jolt up in your seat in the classroom, from what seemed like nothing more than a filthy dream, one that left your panties wet. you look around confusedly, only to see that everyone had already left the classroom, except your professor, who had noticed your awakening. 

“good afternoon, dear.” she chuckles, closing her book. “i was going to wake you up, but you were sleeping so peacefully.” she almost coos at you, standing up to walk toward you. 

you’re confused. what just happened? was that really just a dream? but it felt so real…

while you were caught up in your thoughts, she reaches your side and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“remember to sleep early, dear, we can’t have you falling asleep in class.” and just like that, she leaves the classroom, and leaves you in a daze. 

you shift in your seat, trying to process what had just transpired, hyper-aware of the heat in your groin. another cold shower tonight, you suppose, one filled with the memories of what seemed to be a dream. 

the following weeks seem to be a hazy, heat filled one. your professor keeps wearing the exact outfits you always dream of, and multiple dreams of you confessing your deepest desires to her- but always ending up waking at your desk, with her smiling at you as kindly as ever.

you think it’s quite strange- it’s almost like someone is listening to your thoughts, and somehow bringing them to life. everytime your professor shows up in an outfit that is someone just your type, you thank the heavens above- not knowing that she finds it quite amusing. 

once she’s pried enough secrets out of you, she finally decides to confront you, on a day just like any other, sunset filtering through the blinds of the classroom windows. all the students are gone, just like usual, leaving just you and her in the classroom, together. today, she’s dressed in a way that you seem to have fantasized about the most- her blouse, with the top three buttons conveniently undone, and a short pencil skirt, and you couldn’t help but drool over yourself when you thought she wasn’t looking. 

she approaches you in the same way she has in so many other countless ‘dreams’. and she’s straight to the point this time. 

“so darling, when were you going to tell me about how you want to eat me out from under my desk?” she sits on the table in front of yours, legs crossed. she says it nonchalantly, as if it were another question on the syllabus. 

“wh-what? what are you-” 

she reaches out to give your cheek a little pat. “hush now, i know more than you might think, dear.” she stands up and walks behind you, putting both hands on your shoulders. “don’t think i don’t notice you drooling over me during class. you’re lucky you’re a top student- or i’d be a lot more strict on you.”

her words ignite a spark in you- strict? what kind of strict is she talking about? punishing you with a cane? denying you of orgasms? perhaps- 

“listen when your professor is talking.” she tuts, making you snap back to her gaze. an extreme sense of deja vu hits you- has this truly happened before? 

“now as i was saying. when were you going to tell me? after graduation? that’d be too late, no? what other time will you finger me on my desk?” she whispers it now, riling you up slowly as she spills your own secrets back to you.

“i know, darling,” she watches in amusement as she caresses your shoulder, almost grazing over your neck. “i know the way you want me to hurt you, to pleasure you, to take you mine. ” she sighs. “i just wished you’d have told me earlier to save all this time. even though i teased you so much, you still did nothing to chase your desires.”

“how…” your voice comes out quiet and meek, unable to look her in the eyes. 

“that’s my secret, darling. not for you to know- at least not now.”

before she can say another word, you burst into tears. “i-i, i’m so sorry, miss theseus, i promise it won’t happen again, i didn’t mean t-” 

a finger, pressed against your mouth, shushes you. “i never said i was mad, darling. i do find you quite adorable, actually.”

your tears clear up quick, sniffling quietly as you look up at her.

she prompts you to stand up, and motions you to follow her to the front of the classroom. she very quickly, but seductively, strips herself of her skirt, leaving herself in lace panties. you can only stare in shock as she leans against her desk.

 “well? what are you waiting for? it’s in your human instinct to embrace your innate desires. go on, have a taste of what you’ve been dreaming of.” 

without any hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of her and pull down her panties, making her gasp and giggle at your eagerness. 

“no rush, dear, the classrooms only get cleaned at night.” she mumbles, stroking your hair, spreading her legs to reveal her core. you note that she’s already wet- no doubt from teasing and making you squirm. you don’t really feel like taking your time- foreplay can wait for another day- and you dive right in, licking broad, flat stripes up her cunt, reveling in the absolutely delicious taste. you moan when your tongue hits her already hard clit, vibrations traveling through her to make her whimper softly. 

you eat her out like a starved woman, occasionally plunging your tongue into her hole. you push your nose against her trimmed pubic hair, inhaling her scent as much as you can. it makes you giddy, and it makes your eating sloppy.  

above you, she moans as she very gently pushes your head harder against her, nearly grinding her hips against your face. “so good,” she sighs out, “you’ve learnt quite a bit in this class, huh?” she chuckles, but you’re far too occupied to respond. one of your hands, previously gripping her soft thigh, moves to prod at her entrance. 

you move up and suck at her clit gently, making her grip your hair harder. “c’mon, put that tongue to more use… you’re always asking your little questions anyways, yeah? the ones that- oh!- ” she gets cut off as you push two of your fingers into her slowly- “the ones that you think are just- haah, regular questions…” she throws her head back as you hilt your fingers completely in her cunt.

your face heats up when you recall the countless questions you had asked her, poorly disguised in the name of education when really, you were just trying to gather some information about her. she continues to tease you.

“there’s so much that i know… you didn’t think a licensed psychologist couldn’t figure out what you were thinking? how pathetic.” she mocks, recalling that you quite enjoy being degraded in your fantasies. your own pussy burns at her words, almost having half a mind to reposition yourself and grind down on her heel. 

she knows that you’re wet, almost more than her, and decides to offer it to you. she moves her leg to tap your clothed crotch with her heel. you whine into her cunt.

“grind.” the order is short and simple, and you waste no time trying your best to pleasure yourself on her. in turn, you thrust your fingers quickly, trying to make her cum over you. you start sucking her clit harder, earning a “good girl” from her, and curl your fingers into her soft, sweet spot, making her cries reverberate throughout the room. 

“just a little more, darling- oh… next time, it’ll be under my desk during class…” she coos, encouraging you to drive her over the edge. you barely get a warning as you feel her clenching around your fingers, and she pushes her head hard as she climaxes, cum dripping down your wrist. she moans into the air softly, riding her high out on your face. 

“ good girl, ” she mumbles, slapping your cheek a few times when you pull away, a string of slick connecting your face to her red cunt. “much better than i expected. but i think, you still have a lot to learn…” 

you nod, almost drooling, ready to accept any lesson from her. you almost reluctantly move yourself off her heel to stand up, leaving yourself unsatisfied.

but you're here to please her, after all.

“well then,” she moves to her desk to take something out of a drawer. “how about this?” she pulls out- a harness, and a dildo- something which strangely fits your tastes. “it’s time to properly learn how to please a woman like me.” she smiles, and hands them to you.

you fumble slightly putting it on, hearing the metal bits clank together. it amuses your professor, but eventually you get it on. “good.” she purrs, and lies on her back on her desk and gets comfortable. she uses her fingers to spread her cunt, to show you her sopping hole, enticing you to come closer. “come on now, fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.”

you stumble forward, entranced, one hand holding up the strap and prodding at her hole. “miss theseus… i can’t believe this is happening.” you breathe out, still in disbelief. “thank you…” but before you can say anything else, she shushes you.

“the sentiments can come later. come on, you have much to learn…” she teases. 

“then i’ll have to oblige.” you murmur, slowly pushing into her tight, warm, cunt. she lays her head on the table, moaning as she feels the stretch. 

“a pity i can’t teach you this during class. you’d already have me crying on this desk if that were the case.” she drawls, trying to provoke you into speeding up. you take the hint. 

without any warning, you push all the way in, hilting yourself in her pussy. she moans in shock, but she clearly doesn’t mind as she grinds back onto your strap, and wraps her legs around your waist.

you start moving, putting your hands on her soft hips to steady yourself. you thrust clumsily, trying to set a rhythm to please the older woman. you try to thrust upward to the spot you had hit with your fingers, jerking the strap around inside her. her long, drawn-out moans fill the room, and you desperately pray that no one is walking outside right now.

she’s already sensitive- and it doesn’t take long for your thrusts to exert more power as you feel her clenching around you.

“faster, dear,” she moans, hands gripping the edge of the table, “make me cum, and i’ll reward you.” 

the idea of a reward makes sparks erupt in your brain, and you speed up, thrusting mindlessly in an attempt to get her to cum faster. you move a hand to rub on her hard clit, making her whimper on the desk. “just like that.” she whines, drawing closer to her orgasm. 

her moans grow louder in a beautiful crescendo, and when her pitch reaches its peak, so does she. she tightens incredibly around your strap, creaming around it as you hilt yourself inside her all the way. her limbs tremble, eyes rolled back into her head as she processes her orgasm fully. when she stops shaking, you look down and pull out to see a ring of white on the base of the strap. 

she slowly sits up on the desk, panting, sweat-covered, and with a small smirk.

“good girl. you’ll get a reward tomorrow.” she breathes out.

__________

“now class, i’ll be grading your papers so go about your own studies. the exam is next week.” 

groans of ‘yes, miss theseus’ ring about, students jeering at being reminded about the finals.

“good, they’ll be busy doing their own things.” she murmurs under her breath. underneath her desk, you plunge your tongue inside her cunt, hidden from view. she’s good at hiding her orgasm- already came on your face once without any visible reaction. 

“i think i’ll keep you under here for the rest of the semester. i’ll get you a pillow for your poor knees.” she says as quietly as possible. all you do is nod vigorously and continue eating her out, trying to please your professor as much as possible- as much as she wants. 

[hellsamethyst]

im listening to my jjk themed playlist(literally just a playlist of songs that reminds me of jjk characters and/or gives me certain jjk character vibes- most of it being nsfw ngl) and die with a smile by bruno mars ft lady gaga is playing, right?

who does my mind immediately think of at this current moment? not any of the jjk characters, that's for sure!

instead, my mind goes to lnds sylus

i can picture two scenarios

the first being sylus and mc asleep in bed together, he has a nightmare of losing mc and he wakes up in a cold sweat, chest heaving like he's struggling to breathe, sitting up, attempting to stay silent but he's panicking, terrified out of his mind. he doesn't scare easily but this dream, this nightmare felt all too real. his gaze trails over to mc, his crimson eyes studying her closely, making sure she's still there next to him, still breathing. mc wakes up and finds him sitting upright, staring at her with an intense gaze. she's concerned, of course, and sits up, her hands immediately reaching out to cup his cheeks, her thumbs gently brushing against his skin, her soft voice, laced with sleep, asking if he was alright, did he have a bad dream. sylus attempts to deflect, tries to brush it off as nothing but mc knows something's up, something's wrong. she urges him to speak about it until he finally relents, telling her about his nightmare. her gaze softens and she pulls him into her arms, reassuring him that she's very much alive, promising she'll always be next to him. from that moment on, they are completely inseparable, spending every day, every night together, loving each other sweetly, wholly, both sylus and mc reminding the other they'll never leave, never stray too far, never go somewhere where the other can't follow

the other scenario is similar, but instead of sylus having the nightmare, it's mc. she jolts awake, her eyes welling up with tears, her heart positively aching. the nightmare felt so real, so concrete that she wakes sylus up by grabbing his hand, gripping it tightly. he immediately knows something's wrong, knows his beloved is feeling overwhelmed. he sits up with her and pulls her onto his lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around her, crushing her against his chest, his hands tangling gently in her hair. he doesn't make her speak, he can already guess what she's dreamed about, he knows her too well. instead, he sits in silence, holding her, soothing her, and if he does speak, it's only to whisper his love for her, to hum a song just for her ears and her ears alone. he presses her head against where his heart rests, letting its beating reassure her that he's here, and he's not going anywhere. from this point on, mc loves him wholly, fiercely, more than she had before. she'd constantly, consistently shower him with her affection, whether its holding his hand or arm out in public, writing love notes and planting them around the base for him to find, sending him messages reserved only for his eyes and his heart, or laying together in the stillness of the night, basking in each other's company. she would make sure he'd never doubt her devotion, her love, her adoration for him, just as he'd do the same for her

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about jack "i just met her but im 99% sure she's in love with me and we're going to have sex" and marie "if u even look at jack i hate u i hate u i hate u i hate u i ha-"

[jalboyhenthusiast]

-

[anthromimicry]

jandy nelson, i'll give you the sun | jean anouilh tr, by lewis galantière | @soulinkpoetry | trista mateer, the dogs i have kissed | the bible

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[aeolianblues]

ever so slightly worried I’ll be insufferable next week, I’m going to Cardiff and I’ll try not to be the Leo pointing meme everywhere

I was already so bad in London, I’d point out show promo ads on the tube to my cousin and start telling her all about bands I think she could live without hearing about, and we’d look at a poster advertising a show at another venue and I’d tell her about some historic show that happened there in like 1977 and then we’d see some big tour announcement on the side of a wall and I’d be all like do you want an unsolicited ten-minute long history of this artist’s successes in the charts

I’m terrible about it, I have to try not to wear down my best friend next week, who is doing Cardiff with me very graciously, knowing what fresh hell that might entail for her

[arolesbianism]

You hate how much it tempts you