#if you wouldn't lick the blood and/or honey off him. what are you doing

[whats-a-clever-username]

All I'm saying is

#candyman #candyman 1992 #daniel robitaille #tony todd #kirby's edits #if you wouldn't lick the blood and/or honey off him. what are you doing #and with this I am dragged back to the shame cube

[megalony]

Worth The Wait

This is an Eddie x reader x Evan imagine, requested by the lovely @itsmytimetoodream I hope you like how it turned out honey. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When (Y/n) goes into labour, it is far from easy and ends up being a long, hard few days. But the boys help her through it.

Enjoy.

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As hard as she tried, (Y/n) couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her face and it made her breaths hitch higher in her throat. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip until she could taste blood trickling onto her tongue and turning her mouth sour.

(Y/n) pressed her hands down into the mattress and pushed herself until she was sitting up rather than lying down, but it didn't help. It relieved the weight from her back, but it made the tension shift around in her stomach and the pain was still igniting in her lower back. Right between her hips, it felt like a fire was slowly licking at her hip bones and working its way up along her spine.

She tried to take a deep, steady breath but her back was twinging and seizing up and (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself anymore.

Reaching her hand out, she gently grabbed Eddie's forearm that was slumped across the middle of the bed. She shook his arm a few times before just pulling his arm until the jolt made his head push down into the pillow and shocked him awake.

"Hm… mi amor, what're you doing?" He stretched his other arm above his head and propped his head up on his hand.

He moved his hand round and twisted his arm out of her grasp so he could press his hand against her lower back.

Eddie didn't know what time it was, but he knew it was late. He had fallen asleep around eleven o'clock so surely it had to be sometime after midnight. (Y/n) didn't usually wake him up. She got up a lot during the night to go to the bathroom and Eddie never woke up or heard her, and she didn't wake him up during the night for anything.

When she had twisted her ankle while he was taking a nap she just hobbled into bed with him and didn't bother to wake him and tell him.

"Eddie, it hurts." Her voice and the little whimper she let out made Eddie wake up on red alert. His head pushed up off his hand and he sat up in bed, moving the cover away from him so he could shuffle into the middle of the bed and sit behind her.

"What hurts, baby?"

His hand stayed on her back while his other hand held her arm and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her shoulder.

"Everything. God, my back kills a-and the baby keeps moving, Eddie it's bad."

"Okay, okay I know." He could tell immediately that this had to be bad because Eddie knew (Y/n) wouldn't wake him if she was only in slight discomfort. It had to be bad for her to wake him and ask for help.

He began smoothing his hand across her back in slow circles and when (Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder, Eddie let go of her arm to press his hand against her abdomen. He waited a few seconds before moving his hand around and tried to press around her stomach.

"You might be going into labour, mi amor." His hand stayed on her back while he reached out to turn the lamp on and shake his head to liven up.

It seemed about right. (Y/n) was thirty-eight weeks pregnant now and they knew that she could go into labour at any moment. That was why Eddie and Evan were working alternate shifts for the next two weeks so that when (Y/n) went into labour, one of them would be home with her. And then they could take their agreed annual leave together to be home with (Y/n), Chris and the new baby.

Eddie knew (Y/n) had been having back pains for the last few days, but he noticed she was very uncomfortable tonight. She couldn't focus on watching tv, she was tired but couldn't settle to sleep and she had clung to him all evening.

"So, so we wait?"

"Afraid we do. I'll time the contractions when they start, hopefully Buck will be home by then."

They couldn't do very much right now. All (Y/n) could do was take painkillers and try to either sleep or move through the pain until her waters broke and the contractions became frequent. The midwife had told them they couldn't go to the hospital until contractions were ten minutes apart or preferably less.

They had a long wait on their hands.

And Eddie didn't want to ring Evan yet while he was on shift. It was past midnight, chances were Evan was either in the bunker room taking a nap or he would be out on a call. It wouldn't be fair to ring him and tell him (Y/n) was in labour when right now, it was the early stages. They couldn't go to hospital or do anything so Evan didn't have to come home because it would just be a long wait.

He may as well stay at work, Evan was the hyperactive one out of the three of them. He was the one who needed to be busy and telling him (Y/n) was in labour would make him flutter about, desperate to find things to do.

"Do you want to try and sleep?" Eddie went back to kissing her shoulder and rubbing his palm across her lower back to see if it would help relieve her pain and discomfort.

It would be easier for (Y/n) to get some sleep now rather than when the contractions started and the pain got worse. But if she didn't want to, Eddie would gladly stay awake with her. And he smiled into her skin when she shook her head and wiggled onto the edge of the bed.

"I can't sleep." She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, but sleeping was definitely not on the list.

"Do you want a bath?" Eddie grinned softly when (Y/n) turned her head to look back at him. He could see the small smile forming on her lips and the perplexed look in her eyes. It wasn't really a normal thing to have a bath after midnight like this, but it sounded appealing. "Come on, let's have a bath."

It wouldn't be the first time Eddie had found (Y/n) in the bath in the early hours of the morning, but that was usually around four or five. (Y/n) tended to feel most comfortable in the bath and she seemed certain that their baby only slept when (Y/n) was laid in the bath. It might work in easing her back pain and make her feel a bit better. Time might also go a bit faster if (Y/n) was comfortable.

"You can go back to sleep, you know." (Y/n)'s voice was soft and quiet and made Eddie's heart flutter as he climbed off the bed and stood in front of her.

"I'll sleep when you sleep. But if you're awake, then so am I." He would gladly take a nap later if (Y/n) managed to get some sleep, but if she was awake in pain, Eddie was staying up with her.

He and Evan promised her they would do this with her and if (Y/n) was in labour, Eddie was going to be right by her side.

She wrapped her hands around Eddie's arm and pressed her lips against his bicep, following him out the bedroom and into the bathroom. Her lips curled into a grateful smile when Eddie found some painkillers in the cabinet and handed them over before he turned the bath on.

"I hope Chris won't need the toilet soon." Eddie murmured quietly while he ran the bath and pushed the bathroom door closed to be safe. They didn't want to wake him.

Chris didn't usually wake up during the night and he rarely got up to use the toilet. But it would be just their luck for him to wake up now and want to go when they were both getting in the bath.

"Do me a favour?" (Y/n)'s eyes followed Eddie as he leaned back up and moved his hands to his hips, nodding silently. She watched the confusion light up his face when she gingerly took his wrist and moved his hand to the middle of her back. "Push." Her request took Eddie by surprise, but he obliged.

He pressed the base of his palm into her back while (Y/n) squared her shoulders and tried to straighten up. A horrible click echoed off the tiles and made Eddie wince, but he could see it helped.

"Alright, come on."

(Y/n) stripped off and let Eddie climb in first before she took his hands and climbed in. When she turned round, his hands moved to her hips to help ease her down and he spread his legs so she could sit between his thighs that clamped down around her hips.

She eased her back into Eddie's chest and tucked her face into the crook of his neck, pressing a tender kiss beneath his chin when his arms wound around her waist. It tickled when he started drawing patterns over her stomach, but when he switched to moving his hands around her stomach, it felt soothing.

"Not long now," Eddie whispered against the top of her hair while he closed his eyes.

It felt like years had passed since they found out about the baby. Everything seemed to have happened in a rush. Telling their families, Evan arguing with his parents and begging them to be happy for him rather than judging him. Eddie's family trying their best to understand and agree because they could see how happy Evan and (Y/n) made Eddie.

Telling the team, getting things ready, telling Chris who had then been adamant he was going to help paint the spare room and help both dads put everything together.

It all seemed to have happened ages and ages ago, but now, they were so close to meeting their new arrival.

"Finally."

***

Moving her hands, (Y/n) leaned forward until her lower back was arched out and her hands were planted down on the bed to prop herself up. She bit down on her lip to swallow down a groan and tried to wait out the sharp pain that tore through her abdomen and around near her hips.

When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes and looked across at the clock on the night stand. Her lip wobbled and her hand slammed down into the bed as she bit down a cry of anger.

Thirty minutes.

Her back pain had been consistent, but her contractions were still just about half an hour apart. She thought for sure that it had only been twenty minutes since her last contraction. Eddie was timing them, but (Y/n) was too because she was becoming impatient.

Not long after she and Eddie got out the bath this morning, a contraction started. The pair of them had managed an hour of sleep, then another power nap early on in the morning. But (Y/n) was getting tired. She wasn't sleepy, she just wanted the pains to become persistent.

She wanted the contractions to speed up and for labour to get moving, she didn't want to be stuck waiting around for the pains to hit and for her back to keep seizing up like this. (Y/n) didn't like waiting.

She reached out for the bag in the middle of the bed and launched it off the bed, across the room. They didn't need it yet. They didn't need the hospital bag (Y/n) had packed last week. Her contractions were nowhere near together and her water hadn't broken yet. They wouldn't be at the hospital anytime soon and that thought made tears burn into her face.

"Baby… have you had another contraction?" Eddie glanced down at his watch as he walked into the bedroom and moved to stand behind (Y/n). When she nodded, he smiled and curved an arm around her back. "That's good, and I've called Carla. She can get Chris from school later if we need her to, and she'll look after him when we're ready."

Carla was more than happy to pick Chris up this afternoon and she had agreed months in advance to have Chris whenever (Y/n) went into labour. Chris loved her and he felt comfortable with her if he couldn't be with one of his three parents.

"It's not good. We'll still be here when he comes home, it's taking forever."

(Y/n) hated to whine but she couldn't help it. At this rate they would still be home this afternoon by the time Chris came back from school, it didn't feel like they would be getting to the hospital any time soon.

"Baby, it's okay, we knew it might take a while. Things will speed up soon." When (Y/n) turned around, Eddie reeled her into his chest.

He felt how tightly her hands dug into his shoulder blades and and each harsh breath that fanned into his shirt when she buried her face against his sternum. He smoothed his hand up and down the middle of her back while his right hand cupped the back of her neck and he peppered kisses against the back of her head.

"I want this to go smoothly." (Y/n) mumbled into his chest while he started to sway them from side to side.

"I know baby, and it will, I promise. Me and Buck are gonna take care of you, and you're gonna be fine."

She wanted labour to go swiftly and easily and have no complications or problems along the way. And (Y/n) wanted to be selfish and wish for the process to speed up. But she knew with it being her first, the chances were higher that it would take a while. She thought she had been prepared for waiting, but it was starting to get tiresome.

"There we go, I think Buck's home." Eddie continued to sway them from left to right as if they were having some kind of slow dance together. He could hear the front door slam shut and the heavy, pounding footsteps signalled Evan was home.

That was good timing, now (Y/n) was having contractions, she needed them both here with her. And they needed to get ready for when it was time to take her to the hospital. Plus, Evan didn't know labour had started yet. He was under the assumption that he could come home, grab a snack and maybe take a power nap and relax with his partners.

He didn't know what he was going to walk into.

"Well, this is a nice view." Evan folded his arms over his chest and pressed his shoulders back against the door frame. One leg crossed over the other and he rose a brow as he looked over at his partners.

Usually, when he came home he would find Eddie pottering about the house or find he had gone to the gym. And (Y/n) would be reading a book, taking a nap or mooching about the house trying to keep busy. This was the first time he had come home to find them cuddled together like they were trying to dance.

"Can I step in?"

Stepping forward, he held his hands out towards them but the bright smile on his lips faded when he watched them closely. He watched Eddie turn to the side as (Y/n) patted her hand on the bed to silently signal that she wanted to sit down. And Evan could feel the panic bubbling up in his chest when (Y/n) sat down and groaned.

Her head flopped forward and her hands started to rake up and down her thighs, scratching into her skin as she arched her back out to try and release the tension.

"Baby what's wrong?" Evan knelt down in front of (Y/n)'s knees and gently took her hands so she would stop scratching. He didn't want her to hurt herself and he needed to know what was wrong. He didn't like the way (Y/n) avoided his eyes and looked up at Eddie instead.

"She went into labour this morning, contractions have finally started." Eddie sat down on the end of the bed beside (Y/n) but he sighed when Evan's expression changed.

"Why didn't you call me?!" He seemed stuck between wanting to reach out and slap Eddie's thigh, wanting to curl his hands into fists, and feeling desperate to comfort (Y/n) in some way. So Evan settled on moving his hands up and down (Y/n)'s thighs while she braced her hands on the bed and leaned back.

"Buck, what difference would it have made?"

"I'm you're bloody partner Eddie, it would have made a lot of difference to know our girlfriend is in labour while I'm not fucking here."

Evan's snappy response was instant and the anger burned bright in his eyes, making Eddie wince while (Y/n) reached down to hold Evan's shoulder. They hadn't done this intentionally to upset him. They didn't want to panic him and drag him home just to wait around. It was easier for Evan to finish his shift because now both men were done with work and once they told Bobby (Y/n) was in labour, their annual leave would start right away.

"And you coming home early wouldn't change the fact that this takes hours, Buck. It's been eight hours and nothing has happened yet, so calm down."

"Thanks. Why not just call me when the baby's born-"

"Stop it." (Y/n) dug her nails into Evan's shoulder and moved her other hand to slap Eddie's thigh. She didn't want them arguing right now, she wanted one of them to make this process speed up so they could have their baby. "You're here now and this baby is taking their sweet time anyway… can I get a hand up, I need to get a drink."

Evan rolled his lips together but nodded, silently ending the disagreement. He wasn't best pleased, but he was relieved to see that this was clearly the start of labour. He hadn't missed much and he was here now, that was all that mattered.

They were all together.

He pushed up and took (Y/n)'s hands, carefully pulling her up while Eddie held her hips and stood behind her once she was up. Evan kept hold of her hand and moved towards the door, but he stopped and turned round when (Y/n) sharply tugged on his hand and stopped walking.

(Y/n) looked down before her eyes locked with Evan's and she felt Eddie tighten his hands on her hips when he noticed too. Her waters had broken. This was a sure sign that labour was in full swing, now they just needed to wait for the contractions to get closer together and they would be on their way to the hospital.

"See, the baby was just waiting for Buck."

***

"Do you still feel sick?" Evan tilted his head forward to look down at (Y/n) when she wriggled around and her legs shifted on his lap.

He continued to glide his hand up and down her leg from her ankle up over her knee while his right hand propped up his head on the back of the sofa. He wasn't sure what time it was, he just knew it was late.

When the contractions were less than twenty minutes apart this afternoon, Evan stupidly thought this might go a bit quicker. But it didn't. Carla brought Chris home to them and he had tea with them before Carla took him back to her place ready for when the boys needed to take (Y/n) down to the hospital.

They couldn't go until the contractions were ten minutes apart or less and it was taking forever. Every time (Y/n) had a contraction, she would squeeze Eddie's thigh and he would keep count, but Evan was the one keeping check now because he was getting jittery and Eddie was asleep.

Evan squeezed the back of (Y/n)'s thigh when she hummed.

The three of them were laid on the sofa. Eddie had his feet propped up on the coffee table and (Y/n) laid over his lap and her legs were resting on Evan's thighs.

They had a bowl on the floor ready in case (Y/n) threw up, which she had done twice since this afternoon and although Eddie said that was normal, Evan didn't like it. He wanted this to go swiftly for (Y/n) so she didn't have to be in as much pain and he wanted to have their baby in his arms already.

Evan let his hand slide up over the shorts (Y/n) was wearing and he wormed his hand beneath her shirt to trace his fingers up and down her stomach. It was crazy to think that in just a few hours, he wouldn't be able to do this anymore. He would be able to hold his baby in his arms and see what they looked like.

They would finally see whether they had a girl or a boy, if they had blue eyes or brown and see how big they were and be able to hold them.

(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip but it didn't do anything to hide her groan. She turned her head and meshed her face into Eddie's thigh, clenching her hand around his knee when a contraction hit. Her knees pulled up near her stomach and she tensed up and tried to wait it out.

She could feel Evan's hand gliding up and down her stomach and she must have woken Eddie because his hand moved back to card through her hair like he had been doing before he fell asleep.

Her knees stayed up near her stomach and she let her tears soak into Eddie's jeans while he sat up straighter and leaned over her.

"I think we're almost ready."

"Can we go now?" (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's thigh and looked between them both. She had stopped keeping count of the contractions because whenever she thought they were getting closer, it seemed like they were getting further apart. She had settled on just waiting for the boys to tell her when they were finally able to go to the hospital.

A look passed between the boys before Evan nodded, they were just about ten minutes apart now. They could take (Y/n) down to the hospital and pray that this wouldn't take much longer.

"Yeah, baby, we can go now. Let's get you up." Evan slid out from beneath (Y/n)'s legs and moved to stand in front of her instead.

He held his hands out and carefully pulled her up while Eddie held her hips and gave her a gentle nudge.

***

"Why isn't anything happening?" (Y/n) hated the whining edge to her voice, but she was past the point of caring now. Tears were melting into her face and burning her eyes that were already sore and beyond tired.

Her hands clenched down around the rail on the end of the bed and she arched her lower back out so see if it would help relieve the tension, but it didn't. She shifted her weight from foot to foot until she felt Evan's hand on her lower back and his chest mould up against her side.

Tears continued to stream down her face as she turned to the right and let go of the bed so she could fist Evan's shirt in her hands instead. Her temple pressed forward into the middle of his chest and his arms bound tight around her waist as Eddie moved to stand behind her. She could feel Eddie's hand on her lower back as he leaned against the bed and crossed one leg over the other.

"Baby, something is happening. You're almost there now, I promise-"

"I'm not!" The words burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat as she sobbed. "I c-can't wait much longer… just let me push."

She didn't want to wait. She had been in labour for almost two days now and she was getting fed up. (Y/n) thought when they got to the hospital that she would have her baby within a couple of hours. But each time a midwife had come along to examine her, she hadn't been dilated enough. She was at eight centimetres now and if that hadn't changed soon, (Y/n) wasn't going to wait.

Damn the consequences, she would rather try and push already and demand her body work with her. This was taking too long. It was too hard. She was too tired. It had to hurry up now.

"Mi amor, as soon as you're ready, that will be it. Everything will be all over when you start pushing, I swear it won't take long then." Eddie pressed up behind her and cupped his hands over her hips.

He knew the process. He had been there when Chris was born and he had seen women give birth on the job. One (Y/n) was ready to push, that wouldn't take long. This was the longest part, within an hour of wanting to push she would have the baby and it would all be over and done with.

(Y/n) found herself nodding along, but she wasn't sure she agreed. If that was the case, why couldn't she just push already? Surely if she started pushing, her body would get the hint and reach ten centimetres a lot quicker than waiting around like this. Why couldn't she push and speed up the process that had taken far too long already?

It wasn't supposed to take this long. (Y/n) wanted to be one of those women who were in labour less than a day. This was dragging out on purpose and it wasn't fair.

"How are we doing in here?" Amanda, their midwife, poked her head around the door as she snapped on a pair of gloves and walked in when she knew she wasn't interrupting anything.

"Ready. I'm ready… please, please let me push now." (Y/n) turned her head so her cheek was pressed against Evan's chest so she could look over at Amanda. She could see the sympathy on the young woman's face and she smiled kindly. Every time Amanda had come in to check, she had been kind and caring and very sweet when she politely told (Y/n) she wasn't ready yet. (Y/n) wouldn't handle hearing that for a fourth time.

"Let's get you on the bed and take a look, sweetie." She motioned towards the bed and stood out the way. She knew she wasn't needed to assist (Y/n) when she had both her boys here with her.

A broken cry escaped (Y/n)'s lips and she pulled on Evan's shirt when another contraction hit. Her knees bent and she looked like she was about to fall down to the floor.

"Okay, shhh, it's alright." Eddie pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head and kept hold of her hips while Evan tightened his arms around her waist to hold her into his chest. If she went down on her knees they would never get her back up again. "Come on, up on the bed."

(Y/n) let them shuffle her round to the bed but she didn't like the feeling of being sat down. Standing up felt better.

It was a relief to have Evan sat on the bed with her and when she leaned forward, he moved behind her so she could lean up against his chest. His arm curved around her waist and his lips attached to her neck while Eddie stood beside them with his hand deadlocked in (Y/n)'s.

The three of them stayed content and silent as Amanda checked to see how dilated (Y/n) was this time. Eddie brought his free hand up to bite down on his thumb out of anxious habit, but when Amanda smiled and nodded, he could feel the relief pouring out of him.

"Let's just check baby, shall we?" Amanda leaned over and moved to press her hands to (Y/n)'s stomach. The baby had been constantly wriggling around since labour started but last time she checked, baby had been facing the right way with their head down.

"Can I push now?"

"You can start pushing on the next contraction… but baby has moved around. They're going to be breach, I'm afraid."

(Y/n) slumped her chin down onto her chest as her shoulders started to shake and she cried. Why was the baby doing this to her? First labour had taken so long to get in full swing and it had been two days to bring her to this point. And now their baby was the wrong way round. That complicated everything. That meant it would be harder for (Y/n) and something could go wrong.

"It's okay, you're almost there now mi amor. You'll both be fine." Eddie moved his free hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head as he leaned down to kiss her temple. He let her lean her head into his chest while Evan stayed curled over her back like a protective blanket.

"Big pushes (Y/n), you've waited long enough for this baby."

She had one hand curled around each of her boy's hands and (Y/n) kept her head tucked into Eddie's chest and her eyes stayed as tightly closed as she could manage. She could feel her knees shaking when she pulled them up and she tried to sit forward, but it felt like her stomach was being wrenched in half.

She pulled Evan's hand up until she could press it against her chest and she bit back the urge to be sick. She hadn't eaten anything since she went into labour and she had nothing left to throw up, no matter what her stomach was trying to tell her.

"Again… and we've got the legs. Take a breather, try to relax for a moment."

(Y/n) wanted to smile. She really did, but she was too torn up to smile when she didn't have any energy left and she wasn't even finished yet.

But she could feel Evan smiling against her shoulder and Eddie kept tangling his hands through her hair and brushing it back in a methodical way that made (Y/n) want to fall asleep. If only she could.

"Let's keep pushing then."

"You're almost done sweetheart," Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s neck and pecked her skin gently.

Tears tracked down (Y/n)'s face and she felt like she was on fire when she heard the midwife say that the arms were out. It hurt even worse when she felt the shoulders being born. She was almost there but she felt like she was out of energy now. Her last reserves were running on empty.

"I- I can't." She shook her head against Eddie and sucked her lip between her teeth. Couldn't she stop now? Couldn't it all be over and done with now?

"Yes you can. We've got you, you're so, so close now."

"(Y/n), you need to push now. We don't want baby waiting too long in case they try to breathe. Big pushes." Amanda's tone was gentle but her words were coaxing and stern. Being breach put the risk of the baby trying to breathe while their head wasn't quite born yet. They didn't want the baby to breathe and start to suffocate so they had to be quick.

Everything burned like it was on fire and her body started to shake like she was being electrocuted which made Evan and Eddie shake along with her.

Her stomach clenched and tightened when she finally felt that last push work and the weight shifted and pulled away from her abdomen.

"We've got you," Eddie murmured against her hair when her weight slumped forward into him and she almost folded over onto her legs. He let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her front and he slowly eased her back into Evan.

They both watched the way her head lolled against Evan's shoulder and her eyes started to roam from left to right. She had blacked out. She couldn't see anything but darkness and white spots blinking far in front of her.

"That's our girl, you did so great." Evan kissed her neck and looped both arms around her waist while Eddie brushed her chin and tried to get her to take deep breaths. He could see her eyes coming back into focus as her chest heaved like her lungs were expanding so much they might just explode.

(Y/n) wanted to smile, but she didn't quite have the energy. Not until she looked down at Amanda and heard a sharp, piercing cry from the newborn in her arms.

"You've got a little girl. Which dad is going to cut the cord?"

A look passed between Evan and Eddie before Eddie nodded at Evan and pointed at him. "I got to do it with Chris, this is your turn." As much as Eddie would want to do it again, he knew it would mean a lot to Evan. Eddie had cut the cord when Chris was born, it was only fair that Evan got a turn.

(Y/n) reached out and coiled both her arms around Eddie's bicep when Evan slid out from behind her and Eddie took his place. He sat behind her, letting her lean into his chest while his arms cocooned around her and his lips pressed to the back of her head.

She felt Evan's fingers skim across her ankle and up the back of her leg before he focused on his task. It was hard for him to stop his hand from shaking when he took the scissors and cut the cord where Amanda had clamped it off.

"Here's your little girl,"

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s tear-stained face and her arms moved up to curl shakily around her baby when the newborn was placed down carefully over her chest. She brushed her finger across her daughter's head, feeling the tiny wisps of dark hair that felt like cotton wool against her skin.

Eddie brushed his hand across the back of their daughter's head while he stayed curled around (Y/n). And Evan moved to sit back down next to (Y/n)'s thigh, staring at their little girl in wonder.

"Wasn't she worth the wait?" Eddie murmured quietly into (Y/n)'s ear. He could feel the tiredness washing away and he just knew that even if (Y/n) managed to get some sleep, neither he nor Evan were going to sleep yet. They would be staying awake through to the morning, watching over their little girl.

They all knew Evan would be ringing Bobby and Maddie soon to tell them they had a girl and Eddie would call Carla first thing in the morning so she could bring Chris down to see his sister.

Evan reached across and skimmed his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he looked down at the little girl in her arms. They could tell he was desperate to reach out and take hold of her, but he was trying not to. He was trying to be patient and hold back because (Y/n) had gone through all of that pain and torment, the hours of agony. She deserved to sit and cradle their daughter for however long she wanted.

As soon as she put her down, Evan would snatch her up, and then everyone would have to fight him to hold her.

"You took your time," (Y/n) kept her voice quiet and closed her eyes, letting the image of her daughter burn into her mind while she leaned her temple against Eddie's jaw.

"Don't worry, I'm sure next time will be a lot quicker." A grin broke out on Evan's face when Eddie nudged him in the thigh and raised a brow. It wouldn't do them any good to start winding (Y/n) up and teasing her, not after all she had just been through.

"You're already planning another? You wanna put me through all that again?"

"Ignore him." Eddie murmured into her hair while he rubbed his hand up and down her waist. Evan was only teasing. But they both knew what he was like. He loved the bones of Chris and he had been over the moon to know (Y/n) was pregnant. He wouldn't object to having more kids, it would be his dream plan to have at least four or five kids, if his partners agreed of course.

But as (Y/n) stared down at the little girl in her arms, she smiled fondly, because Eddie was right. Despite everything, she was worth the wait.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnant! reader #pregnancy #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #eddie x buck #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #buck x eddie

[ghouljams]

what do the fae think about periods? (this reminds me of this one old ass post of a girl that had a male classmate who complemented the way the girls smelled when they were on their period, help 😭)

It's the only time they get to know what it would be like to actually eat their darlings. Some of them handle it better than others.

For fae like Ghost, who took their darling with the intention of eating them, it's like dangling a steak in front of a starving dog. (blood play, love as consumption, period sex, oral f receiving, ghost is a v-a-m-p VAMP)

He holds your hips down and lowers his mouth onto you, dragging his tongue through your folds in slow savoring licks. It makes you shiver, feeling his claws starting to dig into your skin, darkness spreading over his fingers and starting to creep up his forearms. He rolls his tongue over you, ignoring your clit in favor of cleaning the blood off of your cunt. He'd woken you up for this, pulled from his sleep by the smell of blood and a gnawing hunger. So much time spent sweetening you, and nothing to show for it but your name.

But now, oh darling now he can taste it. He can taste all the work and magic he's put into you, every act of devotion, all the love. That big beautiful heart of yours pumps blood like honey through your body, and Ghost has never been as starved for you as he is now. The meat he eats doesn't hold a candle to you, doesn't sate him like you would. You'd feed him for years, and he has to be content with the drip feeding of your monthly cycle. He is, there's something delirious and testing about the way he breathes you in, the way his teeth just catch the delicate skin between your legs, the sharp points warning you against moving too much. Ghost is a man of extreme restraint, living and loving his prey, measuring himself against you like a boa waiting to swallow you whole.

He takes his payment in blood, laps it from your cunt and groans at the taste. His breathing is heavy, his control held in a slippery grasp as he dips a finger inside you and watches the red drip over his shadows. He'll never waste a drop, never let you escape the bed without his head between your thighs.

When he does finally close his lips over your clit it's an afterthought. Your pleasure, your release, is the least of his concerns. He can spend hours teasing you, hours with his tongue and his fingers inside of you, drinking you down for his own enjoyment. He looks at you, his eyes clouded with lust and a dangerous hunger, and you feel like the prey animal you are. You wonder how you could allow yourself to fall into his trap, how you could enjoy the way he licks your blood from his lips and rubs his thumb over your clit. How could you let yourself become so dependent on a predator like him?

You learn nothing from the mistakes of your past, not when they involve him. Not when he begs you so nicely to come for him, so he can taste that too, your pleasure mixing with your blood, ambrosia on his tongue. Prey... no, a eucharist, a communion, they eat Gods too and no one considers them prey. Ghost eats from a finite supply, doesn't dare to sink his teeth into your neck knowing he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking every drop you had. He doesn't plunge his hands into your chest the way he pushes them into your cunt. A man on a tight leash, but even well trained dogs pull.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #1fae1 #fae!ghost #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #oc: love #period sex #tw blood

[beanghostprincess]

How funny would it be if there were rumors around the Cross Guild that Someone Is A Vampire.

Someone visiting for one thing or another catches a glimpse of a person in the dead if night sneaking our of the medical tent with a bag of blood. There are no alarms going off, no sign of their presence beyond a brief moment of Sighting Them, a soft growl, and then the person vanishing into the darkness.

The rumors spread across the Seas. Cross Guild has a Vampire. It's embellished and it grows more and more as the story is told. Eventually someone asks a member if the Guild, "do you have a vampire?" And the mercenary hesitates, pales slightly. "... He is more than that." That's all he'll say on the matter. The way he reacted, the way he seemed almost afraid, it makes people think and wonder.

A Vampire! And in this marine hunting organization? To be so powerful, he must be very strong! In a ... a position of power....

They look at the posters.

Mihawk is the first to be suspected. He hits almost every cliche. Pale? Goth? Drinks "red wine" all the time? Weird? Piercing eyes? Never smiles? Oh Absolutely It All Makes Sense.

There are some who suspect Crocodile. He has that Vibe, they say, ya know the one. It wouldn't be surprising, that's all they're saying.

Meanwhile nobody looks twice at the clown. He's an Emperor, some think idly, if he were a vampire, the world would know by now.

Shanks is giggling, twirling his hair, kicking his feet across the grandline at this point bc He Knows The Truth.

Buggy is a paramecia type devil fruit user - it effects the body and it's derived from the abilities of a Devil. Typically, they are considered the weaker forms of Devil Fruits bc they rarely awaken or offer further abilities. Buggy is, was, and always will be a special case.

To any knowledge, Buggy is the last of his kind. Crocus had his work cut out for him when trying to get a baseline for Buggy's health when he joined if only because so many things were Off or outright Not There or There When There Shouldn't Be. It was impossible to tell what was Devil Fruit vs Biology. So when Buggy began getting sick, losing weight, growing lethargic, it was a frenzy to find answers.

The solution presented itself in typical Whoopsies How Did That Happen fashion - Shanks got so mad about not being able to help, being scared for his best friend, his Buggy, that he punched a wall - tore his knuckles up. He hissed, shook his hand out, hopping around because ow ow ow fuck shit ow-

And then Buggy was staring.

Shanks, more distracted by Buggy being AWAKE, simply lunged for his friend, and was a little surprised when Buggy didn't push him away or hiss or scream - just took his hand, staring. "Oh," he chuckled awkwardly. "Don't mind that, just me being an idiot, ahah... hah... b-bugs?"

Buggy licks his hand.

Shanks is perturbed.

Crocus runs a few more experiments.

Okay yeah Buggy's a vampire. Cool. Good to know. Why? Not sure, but damn if it isn't something, huh?

Anyway, Cross Guild but the two goths have vampire allegations thrown their way every day, meanwhile their ACTUAL vampire boyfriend is loudly complaining that his polka dot thigh high are missing, oh where is his green scrunchy, honey have you seen his hot pink shorts or his rainbow glitter eyeshadow palette-?

This is hilarious and probably the best thing I've seen today I-- I love this. But ngl, I find this so good for so many Shuggy/Cross Guild concepts with Buggy as a vampire and drinking their blood 🙏🏻 Let them make out because the other three are extremely fucked in the head. It'd be great if Buggy treated being a Vampire so casually while the three of them are down bad for him drinking their blood or smth.

#help this is so funny wkejfbwejkfb #shanks reads twilight he wants his vampire fantasy #i really want buggy being normal about it and the other three being SO not normal about it #one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #cross guild

[praisethesuuun]

Nsfw alphabet for loki? Perhaps??

hope you like it♡ also english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes

LOKI: NSFW ALPHABET

A: aftercare <what they're like after sex>

Loki isn't much of an aftercare guy. If you have marks or small cuts on your skin, he will gladly watching them feeling proud, but he will not assist you. The best he can do is getting you some water.

B: body part <their favourite body part on them and you>

He likes his whole body. Loki knows he can look both feminine and masculine in order to satisfy the tastes of his partner. His favourite part of you is your eyes, because he can always see what your feeling just by looking into them. Are you scared? Good, he likes it.

C: cum <anything to do with it, really>

Loki loves to see you covered in his cum, it's like a way of marking you. You have to completely offer your body and soul to him, so there's no problem in covering you with his cum, right?

D: dirty secret <a dirty secret of theirs>

Loki would like to try shibari, but, even if he seems like he doesn't care much about you, he still doesn't know your limits. Plus, if he didn't like you, he wouldn't fuck you.

E: experience <how experienced are they>

A lot. Loki's a little whore, it's not a secret.

F: favourite position <self-explanatory>

I think he likes mating press. Having control over you, pounding mercylessly into you, maybe when you're all tied up begging him to go slower. Spoiler: he will go faster insted.

G: goofy <would they use humor in the moment?>

It depends: Loki's goofy usually, cracking jokes only to tease you and embarassing you, but when he's jealous it's a whole other story. He becomes serious as fuck. Run as fast as you can, honey, he's mad now.

H: hair <how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the courtains?>

He keep up the maintenance, plus he doesn't have any hair. Everything is pretty clean and shaved in general.

I: intimacy <are they romantic in the moment or they do not care?>

Loki's way to show you that he cares is fucking you DUMB. You think he doesn't care about you? Oh dear, he does, but this is the only way he knows to show you how much he loves you.

J: jack off <...self-explanatory part 2>

To your surprise he doesn't do it much. Your relationship's mostly based on sex, when he's horny he doesn't hesitate to come to you for a quickie.

K: kinks <their kinks>

Degrading kink and restraints. He's a sadistic bastard: calling you a slut while using a whip on you it's like a drug.

KNIFE PLAY AND BLOOD PLAY.

L: location <where they usually do the do>

Everywhere, really. Loki doesn't have this kind of problem, if he wants to fuck you in the middle of the arena, he will. It depends entirely on you and where you feel more comfortable (sex isn't funny if he's the only one to enjoy it).

M: motivation <what turns them on>

Blood. When there's the smallest trace of blood on you, Loki's mind stops working and he starts thinking with his dick. Good luck!

N: no <things they refuse to do>

Pissing on you. It stinks, plus he already has you trenched in his cum, why adding the piss? It doesn't makes sense to him.

O: oral <do they like giving or receiving?>

He likes more giving than receiving. Loki loves when he tortures you with his tongue. The little bastard knows he's good at it, so you better prepare to be held still by him while he eats you out. "What? You want more?" he says giving you another long and slow lick.

P: pace <are they slow and sensual or fast and rough>

HE'S ROUGH. I don't even think Loki knows how to go slow, he's not fluffy or vanilla at all! Your legs will feel so sore in the morning and he will enjoy every second of it.

Q: quickie <would they fuck you for five minutes or wait until you wait home?>

Of course he likes them: you never know when he's gonna get horny. He could be at any time and he becomes a whiny bitch when you don't give him what he wants.

R: risk <...DUH>

Loki lives for taking risks, did I already said that? He mostly takes them to study your body and its limits, this way you can fuck more and try more things, aren't you happy?

S: stamina <how long can they last?>

Loki has a lot of stamina, so he can go for a lot of rounds in the same night. He will stop only when you can't take it anymore.

T: toys <do they own any? do they use them?>

Yeah, he has a few, but he usually uses them on you. One of his favourite things to do is tying you up with a vibrator between your legs. Don't be surprised if you find yourself with a vibrator in you while he controls it with a remote, making you scream when you least expect it.

U: unfair <how much they like to tease>

He lives for teasing you. Loki is a brat when he wants, your frustrated face is just too cute.

V: volume <are they asking for a noise complaint, or are they quiet?>

Oh boy, he's loud. Not only he will moan like crazy, but he dirty talk a lot. Everyone in Valhalla knows when you two are fucking and sometimes it can get pretty embarassing.

W: wild card <a random headcanon☆>

He sometimes ask himself if he should organize an orgy with you, then he immediately discard the idea when he realize he won't be the only one to fuck you.

X: x-ray <what to they look like under there?>

Loki's cock isn't the longer you can get, but he knows how to use it. He can make you scream as much as he wants, he's an expert after all. The tip is #fac1aa. It's slightly inclined upwards

Y: yearning <are they in the mood to fuck or are they tame?>

Quite high once he get used to be intimate with you. Damn, you two can barely stay a few days without sex.

Z: zzz <how quickly they fall asleep afterwards>

Out like a light afterwards. He's going to be so blissed out that he falls asleep with an half smile.

#request #record of ragnarok headcanons #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #ror smut #ror imagines #ror x reader #ror x you #record of ragnarok loki #loki x reader #snv loki #shumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie headcanons #ror loki

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Creatures Of The Night (18+)

Vampire!Eddie x Werewolf!Steve X Reader

Summary:Not very much here in terms of plot if we're being brutally honest, just some very fun and sexy times involving some monster steddie!

Warnings:NSFW, 18+, Making Out, Teasing, Fingering, Size Kink (slightly), Praise Kink, Oral Sex (Brief F Receiving), Missionary Sex, Cuddles afterwards for good measure!

Word Count:2, 213

Authour's Note:Maybe i'm unhinged for writing this but i'm just here for a good time and to fuck monsters, if that's not your thing then maybe this isn't the fic for you.

Masterlist

It was only ever under the bright white light of the moon that their true forms revealed themselves to you. The pitch black midnight provided them the chance to present themselves as they truly are.

Eddie with his pale skin, red-rimmed dark eyes, and spread of imposing bat-like wings. His wicked smile proudly shows off his two prominent sharp, pearly teeth. A few of his long dark curls had fallen loose from the bun tied at the nape of his neck, framing his pale face. He’d long been drawn to you, the scent of your blood called out to him, a rich, cherry-sweet scent unlike anything he’d ever come across before. His nose would brush against your neck, as his tongue licked over the pulsing veins in your neck, and despite it all, he could never bring himself to sink his teeth in, never wanting you to come to any harm, especially not at his cost.

And Steve, who’s broad shouldered frame is covered in thick coats of soft brown hair, his usual hazel brown eyes now glowed a honeyed golden sparkle in the moonlit dark of the bedroom. Even in his shaggy, wolf-like form there was still something incredibly human about him. The glint in his eyes that lets you know that underneath it all, he was still just your Stevie, and nothing could ever change that.

Maybe the way that you three came together each night wasn’t the conventional thing that was expected of three young adults living together in a small and quiet town like Hawkins but somehow you managed to make your rather unconventional situation work.

Most people wouldn't look twice at your boys in the harsh light of day. Steve in his usual look of light wash denim and striped polo shirts, a normal everyday outfit for the common man in Hawkins. And Eddie clad in his typical garb of some metal band's tour t-shirt, black leather jacket and black ripped jeans leading down to an old pair of tattered dark DMs was a look that most people turned their nose up at with a scoff. 

So yeah, mostly the residents of Hawkins, Indiana paid no mind to the two polar opposite boys who roamed their streets.

No. It wasn't until the sun dawned down each evening that your boys came out to play.

Being pinned between their two monstrous bodies was something that you welcomed. The touch of the supernatural was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

It started out as a typical night, with you in bed relaxingly cuddled against the warm, soft hairs of Steve’s chest, fingers absentmindedly playing with his soft brown coat. Your head resting against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

In stark contrast to the warmth you feel lying next to Steve, you feel Eddie’s presence sidling up beside you. The ice cold touch of his hand coasting up your arm as he leans in to press kisses along your collarbones, you feel his smirking smile against your skin as you shiver under his affections.

Eddie’s button-tipped nose is buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of you with a deep breath, before pressing one more cold kiss just underneath your ear. 

Steve wasn’t blind to what Eddie was trying to do, in fact he all but encouraged the vampire’s quest to arouse you. Steve quietly chuckled to himself as he felt you slyly trying to grind yourself naked body into his hairy thigh where your legs were tangled with his under the bed covers.

"Well would you look at that.." Steve's deep voice rumbles out "..it would seem as though our mate is getting a little squirmy from all those kisses your giving her, Munson" 

"Indeed it would, Harrington. How about we do something about that, huh pretty girl?" Eddie asks you, his voice a low raspy whisper beside your ear.

You lift yourself from the soft comfort of Steve's chest to nod your head. 

"I'm gonna need you to use your words, Sweet Thing." Eddie purrs out, ever the tease.

You nod your head once more

"Yes please.." you breathed.

"Always so polite.." Eddie smiles. He looks over to Steve and gives him a subtle nod of his head, which Steve understands right away, as his massive hands gently man-handle you into a position where you’re sat on the bed, with your body relaxing back against his soft furry chest, your head leaning against his shoulder.

Steve’s large hands are pawing at your exposed chest, squishing the soft flesh of your boobs under his rough touch. His fingers eagerly toying with your nipples, rolling each one between the calloused tips of his fingers. His lips hungrily sucks dark marks against your skin, trailing his kisses up the side of your neck.

“Hold her open, Wolfie.” Eddie commands Steve teasingly, knowing how much Steve hated Eddie’s affectionate nick-name for him. 

Steve’s hands immediately skate down the sides of your body, his nails leaving light scratch marks as he does. His big hands settle themselves on the soft skin of the inside of your thighs before spreading them and holding them open.

Eddie stands up and makes his way over to where you're so tantalisingly spread out for him. Stalking the room, his dark eyes never leaving your exposed frame.

You watch his movements with anticipation. There’s a delicious heat that warms through you as you watch how he lewdly spits in his palm before dropping his hand down and teasing his cock in slow strokes, his thumb swiping over the mess of pooling pre-cum gathering at the tip as his fist strokes upwards making sure to glide over the prominent vein that runs the underside of his length.

"Don’t worry Pretty Girl, I'm going to make you feel real good, real soon" Eddie promised. "Just gonna let Harrington have his moment with you first, you know he's gotta stretch you out to get you ready for me"

You feel the insistent press of Steve's cock at your back and all too quickly you're reminded of why he has to stretch you out. In his human form Steve was not small by any shred of the imagination, but with enough prep and slow, gentle movements from both parties you could take him.

However, in his humanoid-wolf hybrid form it was a different story. Everything about him was bigger, in every sense of the word. Of course you’d tried to take him, so desperate to feel the stretch of him inside you, but it would be a while before you could accommodate the press of his thick length in your tight wet heat. For now you had settled on a happy medium of being opened up by the rough and calloused touch of Steve’s fingers.

Starting with only one of his fingers, carefully teasing his way around your pussy, gathering the wetness on the pads of his fingertips before drawing it up and rubbing on your clit in tight circles. His thick finger slips back down and slowly inches inside you, just letting you adjust to the feeling of his finger for a moment before he begins to thrust in and out of you.

Your head falls back against his chest whimpering quiet little moans into the crook of his neck.

“Aw, is Stevie making you feel good, Sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice taunts, a slight tone of condescension as he watches Steve slip another one of his fingers inside you, working them in and out of your wet cunt.

Steve noses into your hair, deeply inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo, little gruff whines of approval falling from his lips as he feels you tighten around his fingers.

"That's it…There's my good girl, gonna come from me, aren’t you, Sweet Thing?" Steve growls against your skin, his sharp teeth nipping little marks against your neck.

You whine and babble incoherently as Steve continues to thrust his fingers and rub your clit in quick circles, holding you close to his body. 

Your orgasm rushes over you, clenching and pulsing against Steve’s thick fingers with a wet gush.

Steve gently rubs over your clit as tenderly as he can with his big pawing hands, helping you to come down from the high of your orgasm.

“There she is, my good girl…So sweet and pretty..” Steve breathes against your neck in-between placing tender to your skin.

“Think you mean our girl, Harrington. Thought you wolves were all about sharing with the rest of your pack, huh.” Eddie teases from where he’s sat on the edge of the bed, his dark brown almost black eyes scarcely tearing away from your steadily breathing frame. His long fingers are still slowly stroking over the length of his cock, keeping himself hard and ready just for you.

“You ready for me, Angel?” he asks, all too cocksure of the fact that you were never going to give him an answer short of a shy nod of your head and a breathy whine of ‘please’. 

“I’m ready please, Eddie..I just want to feel you..” you plead desperately, which earns you a rumbling chuckle from the vampire above you.

"Well since you asked so nicely, who am I to deny such a request?" Eddie smiles broadly, bearing his pearly fangs to you.

He leans his head between your spread legs, where Steve’s big strong hands hold you open, and places one soft, solitary kiss against your clit before sweeping his tongue the length of your pussy, slurping up glistening wetness.

"You know I can never resist getting a taste of your sweet cunt, my Darling" he purrs “..but it’s only fair that Wolfie here gets to have a taste too..” before leaning over your shoulder and bringing Steve close with a cold hand snaked around the back of his neck, his long fingers tugging into the soft strands of Steve's scruffy hair. Eddie presses his lips against Steve’s, his tongue slipping between his fangs to allow Steve to taste the sweetness of your juices in a heated and passionate kiss.

An appreciative growling hum resonates from the wolf as he licks his lips when Eddie pulls away from him.

“Always so sweet for us, Pretty girl..” Steve praises, making you beam under his affections.

“Oh! Does our pretty girl like being praised for being a good girl?” Eddie notes as he takes in the way you shy away into the crook of Steve’s neck.

Eddie hooks his finger under your chin, gently tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

You shyly nod your head, your words failing you as you’re pinned between these two supernatural beings.

“Well since you’re being such a good girl for us, then I guess it’s only fair that Eddie gets to feel you come for him the way I did.” Steve tells you, his fingers running back up your body to toy with your nipples.

With one more breathy whimper of ‘Please’ falling from your lips Eddie takes his cock in his hand and begins to sink himself into you inch by inch.

Eddie rolls his hips into you, filling you so completely every time he thrusts into you. The cold touch of his fingertips make you shiver as they sink into the warm, soft flesh of your thighs.

Steve takes his opportunity to snake one of his hands down your body to rub circles over your sensitive clit.

“Keep that up Harrington, she’s squeezing me so tight, she feels like a fuckin’ dream” Eddie praises as he continues to rut his hips into you, hitting against that spot inside you that has a flaring heat building in your stomach.

The lewd sounds of Steve’s growled kisses against your neck, Eddie’s sloppy thrusts as he chased his orgasm, and your own whining whimpers resound in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

It didn’t take much more than a few sharp thrusts from Eddie hitting so deeply inside you and Steve’s pawing hands rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pleasure that you were coming around Eddie’s cock. Your orgasm shuddering through your body.

With the way your walls were squeezing him so tightly Eddie buried himself deep inside you once more before he was filling you with the hot spurts of his release.

Taking a moment to gather yourselves, Eddie slowly pulls himself out of your tight wet heat with a hiss of sensitivity.

Steve pulls your body back to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and placing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head.

“Did so well for us sweetheart.” Steve praises once more.

“I love you, you know that, right? Both of you?” you say, looking between the two creatures.

“Yeah we know you do, sweetheart, we love you too.” Steve smiles “Now, you get your blood-sucking ass over here, Munson. I’ve got two arms for a reason.” he smirks, gesturing to the other empty space in the large bed.

Eddie slinks over to the bed, sidling up to Steve, and for the rest of the night that’s how you two spend your time together. You and Eddie snuggled into the soft warmth of Steve’s chest, falling into a relaxed and easy sleep.

@sunflowerdaydreamer @munsonology @xxhellfiregirlxx

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #vampire eddie munson #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #Steve Harrington x female reader #werewolf steve harrington #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #monster bf #monster fucker

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 3/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This part is more angst, I’m sorry. I promise things will turn up eventually! I wouldn't put everyone through all this angst for nothing! Enjoy!

Summary: You're alive, but barely. Matt blames himself.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, canon-typical violence, vague wound descriptions/unconsciousness, friends arguing, post-season two/pre-Defenders era Matt, swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,193

Matt’s thankful for every beep on the monitor that he hears, but he can’t help but hate it. The robotic, cold monotone mocks him. It announces his shortcomings, his failures. He wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, good enough to save you or Elektra that night. Elektra’s dead, and the doctors aren’t exactly sure where you stand. You made it through surgery, a long surgery, but there was a lot of trauma and blood loss. A waiting game, they said. He’s always hated that phrase. Nothing attached to those words has ever been fun, only painful. And now it’s attached to you and your life. 

He remembers when he first met you at Columbia. You had walked by him in the hall, your pomegranate and honey shampoo catching his attention. When he went into his next class about a half hour later, you were there, second row to the front, just off center to the right. Matt’s feet led him to the open seat next to you, using his cane to push the guy with the expensive cologne away from the coveted free seat to your right. He gave you a small smile as he sat down, and he could tell you did the same, softly introducing yourself and making small talk until class began. It took you a while to tell him about your family and your background, and he could tell that you were nervous as you did, waiting for some kind of shoe to drop when you finished—maybe that you expected him to ask for money or if you could help him get a job somewhere. You didn’t expect him to appreciate you for you, only what you could potentially do for him. When he gave you a smile and cracked a joke, saying that he still wouldn’t let you pay for ice cream next time you guys walked through Central Park, you let out a little laugh. His heart skipped a beat when he heard that, how your posture relaxed, and when he sensed how you smiled back at him. After that, it was always you, him, and Foggy, and if Foggy wasn't around, Matt would manage to find his way to your side—it was a pace he never wanted to leave. A place that felt like home. Something he hadn’t really felt since his dad died.

But when Matt met Elektra, everything changed and he pushed you away. Part of Matt always thought you’d be there for him—you’re his friend through thick and thin, why wouldn’t you still be there for him? But when that relationship went up in flames and Matt needed refuge to lick his wounds and work through his feelings, you were long gone, tired of waiting for him to come around, hurt by the last person—the only person—that you thought you could really, truly trust. And now you’re here, barely hanging on because you re-entered his life at the wrong time.

He's a real fucking lucky charm, isn't he?

Matt leans back in the uncomfortable hospital chair, letting out a long breath as he lets a new wave of shame roll over him. Foggy puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Two people I love are hurt because of me,” Matt croaks, hanging his head. “Elektra is dead, and (Y/N/N) is barely hanging on.”

“We’d be in worse trouble if you didn’t do any of what you did on the rooftop,” Foggy tries to console him. Matt’s still surprised he’s in the same room as him after how he has treated his best friend and partner. 

“I ruin everything I touch, huh?” He angrily wipes away a tear.

“Matt, this was beyond anything anyone could have imagined. It—.”

“It’s the best if I stay out of all your lives. That way, no one else gets hurt. I won’t let anyone else down.”

“Matt, don’t be obtuse, that’s ridiculous.”

“But it’d be effective.” He sniffles and stands, putting his glasses back on. “It’s the way it has to be. It’s the only way I can keep people safe.”

“So what’s gonna happen when (Y/N/N) wakes up and wants to talk to you? ‘Sorry, he’s ghosting everyone because he’s going full Batman broody.’ She’ll need you—you were with her that night, you’re the only person who knows what kind of trauma she went through—.”

“And that’s exactly why I should leave!” he snaps. “You heard the doctor—she barely had enough blood in her to keep her organs in salvageable when she got here, and the blade absolutely shredded her internally. It barely missed her spinal column. She could have been paralyzed if it was a half inch over. It’s better for everyone if I disappear. She doesn’t have to see me and remember anything from that rooftop or remember everything I’ve done to her.”

“You don’t think she’d think about that without seeing you? And what about when she sees her scars? What about when she needs to talk to someone, to have a shoulder to cry on, because everything from that night haunts her? Who’s she gonna call when she has nightmares? No one knows what she went through but her and you. You can’t leave her alone again.”

“I didn’t leave her the first time.”

“Bullshit. You left. You chose not to stay. You cut her out cold. You weren’t around to see it, but that’s when she changed. That’s when she closed herself off, started to do everything her parents wanted. That’s when she lost herself. It was heartbreaking to watch that, Matt, but you wouldn’t know, because even after Elektra, you didn’t care enough to rebuild that bridge and see the damage you did.”

Matt’s voice is cold and low when he speaks next: “You have no idea how much I cared.”

“You say you care, but you’re so ready to let her suffer alone.”

“You don’t have a goddamn right to say shit like that. She didn’t want to see me.”

“How do you know? Did you try?”

“Foggy—.”

“There was still half of the school year left for you to fix things. You didn’t even try to—.”

“We’re done talking about this.”

“Right. Walking away because it’s easier and because it didn’t go your way. God forbid you actually have to address your feelings!”

“Excuse me?”

“You couldn’t juggle school and Elektra, so you were ready to throw it all away. Hell, you almost did. This time, you couldn't juggle your job and Elektra, so you walked away from the people who needed and relied on you. Now, when that fell apart even further, you’re walking away from the consequences and once more, the people that need you most." Foggy scoffs, venom dripping from his words. "You know what? It is probably best that you’re not here when she wakes up, because if you’re not even the person I called my best friend for years, you’re sure as shit not who she loved in college.” Foggy grabs his things as he walks toward the door, leaving Matt alone with his consequences that weigh him down like cement bricks in the Hudson.

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[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Some Backstory - Part 5

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, violence, murder, sexism.

Ines looked at his back while walking into the suite again. The suit jacket sat impeccably over his broad shoulders and his brown hair shone from the sunlight dancing from the window. He looked back at her slowly while continuing to wipe his jaw with his fingers like he now could feel where the blood had been.

“Follow me…” he murmured and walked to his bedroom. Ines looked at him in shock. She swallowed dryly and wondered if what he had done made him want to come close to her. If the adrenaline from violence made his body explode in passion. Would he finally let her touch him?

They walked into the bedroom together and Vincent motioned to the bed.

“Sit,” he said and Ines did what was told. She looked around in the room but it was so impersonal she couldn't find a thing to look at. She didn't notice the Marquis walking into the bedroom until she heard a shuffle from clothes being taken off. She turned her eyes towards the bathroom and looked at the light coming out from the open door in surprise. She couldn't see him but could hear the clothes land on the bathroom floor but also her own heartbeat, so loud it seemed like it came from outside of her body.

“He was useless…” said Vincent suddenly, he seemed oblivious to Ines beating heart and nerves shuffling on the bed.

“Who?”

“The potential buyer… He was just useless…”

Ines heard him walk into the shower with a sigh and then how the shower turned on.

She tried to process what he was saying, instead she just thought about his naked body under the shower stream.

“What do you mean?” She said to win time to try to figure out what to do.

Vincent answered something but it got muffled by the shower.

“What?” She asked and stood up. Both the interest of what he was saying and seeing him made her walk up to the door. She didn't peak even if she wanted to.

“I didn't hear what you said.”

The Marquis turned off the shower and was silent for a while.

“Come in.”

“In the shower?” She said in shock but also obvious excitement.

“The bathroom,” he said sharply. “Blurred out glass,” he continued.

Ines flashed red. She wanted to hit her head against the door but he would hear that. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the embarrassment before walking into the bathroom. She could just see the shape of his body through the blurry glass but just that made her blush again. He was actually naked just in front of her.

“I said that we didn't need that man,” said Vincent coldly while Ines could see him shampooing his hair. She had a feeling what he meant and sat down on the toilet lid. Her heart beated hard in her chest, but from excitement. Had he actually killed a man because he wasn't the buyer he wanted?

“You killed him?” Said Ines. You couldn't hear any emotions in her voice and maybe that was the reason why he was silent a few seconds before answering.

“I wouldn't say kill, for that you must have had a life and that sorry ass of a man had nothing.”

Ines could feel a tingle in her stomach while he talked so emotionlessly and it spread down to her lower areas.

“Is that the reason you are helping me sell the painting? To kill people off?”

Vincent sighed and turned off the shower.

“Honey, don't run away crying now.”

“I will not cry! God, I am a woman, yes but I can still be fucking badass!”

Vincent laughed.

“I know. I know everything about you.”

Ines looked at his blurry profile and swallowed hard.

“I know we're more similar than anyone would believe.”

She looked down at her hands in horror. She knew what he meant but didn't say anything. He talked so freely about the horrible things he did but she had never opened the lid to her darker sides.

She licked her lips and looked up at him again. He had put on the shower again and sighed in contentment.

She didn't want to think about her story and could only see one way to forget about it all. That's why she walked on light feet towards the shower. That's why she slowly but determinedly pulled the glass door of the shower to the side and looked at The Marquis’ tall body and soft skin.

×××

It didn't go at all as Ines had thought. She was so prepared that her eyes would be lustful and sexy when the marquis turned around but instead her eyes were full of shock and horror. He gave her an angry look and pushed the door closed violently.

“Out!” He screamed and Ines ran out with her eyes almost falling out of their sockets.

His back had several wounds. Round scars from bullets but also a longer scar from his neck down between his shoulders. She was so prepared on seeing smooth, well polished skin instead it looked like he had been used as a human shield. Maybe he even had. She didn't really know anything about him. She had been so impressed by all the money, the class but also the adventure to ask who he was.

She walked to her own bedroom and dressed down to an old Dr. Dre t-shirt and leggings and sat down on the bed. It was so much to take in. Vincent had confessed being a murderer but the wounds also teased about a history of violence. Who was it that stood in the shower in the other bedroom?

“Vincent De Gramont”

Ines googled his name but nothing came up. She googled just the last name, expecting to find some history about a nobel family but there was nothing about him there either. She felt her heart fall in her chest. When she was in the bathroom the thought hadn’t been there at all but now it stared her right in the face. He would kill her. He would kill her to get the painting. Vincent was a professional killer and rich on others' money. He had fooled her by throwing money at her, his victims' money. This wasn't a game of attraction, this was him playing with his next victim, like a cat playing with the defenseless little mouse.

To kill or be killed. That was her only choice now. Kill. In some way she needed to kill the 6’4 man with shot wounds but first he would tell her everything. She was too curious to just let it go. She needed to know who the man she was prepared to sleep with was.

She snuck out to the kitchen but quickened her steps when she heard Vincent in his room. She needed a weapon without him hearing what she was doing. Carefully she looked through the kitchen's drawers but couldn't find much else than cutlery. She couldn't really defend herself with a fork.

Vincent made a sound like he stretched and sighed after. She needed to speed up. She looked through the rest of the drawers faster but also much louder.

“What are you doing?” She heard his familiar broken English behind her. Ines froze but looked down at the only thing she had found that could be a weapon. A wine opener. She took it in her hand and turned to Vincent. Maybe he was armed too.

Vincent stood in a more comfortable outfit, relaxed suit pants and a silky button up in the same off white color as the pants. He looked like most guys did when they dressed up but for him it was loungewear. Ines heard herself whimper. He was just too fine for her to kill with a wine opener.

He looked down at her hand where she had the screw between her fingers. He looked at that a while until he couldn’t keep himself from smirking.

“You want to kill me with a wine opener?”

Ines looked down at her weapon and then up at the well sculptured Frenchman in front of her.

“You know Mylan is just outside of the door and do you think I don't have an alarm? But also…” he made a sound of amusement and looked at her up and down. “Do you really think you would have a chance against me? I'm 6’4 and obviously… Violence isn't anything I fear…”

He walked towards her and Ines lifted the screw towards him even if she also understood it would never save her. Vincent walked past her, to the cabinet and took out a glass.

“Do you also want some juice?” He asked her while showing her a glass. Ines swallowed hard but felt also the irritation grow in her chest. It felt like he mocked her by his relaxed ways.

“You're a killer!” She said upset while Vincent walked to the fridge and poured himself a glass of juice. He took a sip then looked at her seriously and shrugged his shoulders.

“Who the fuck are you? Who is Vincent De Gramont?”

He licked his lips and continued to look at her seriously but now he started to look tired.

“Well, it's not me, so much I think you know?”

“So who the fuck are you?”

The Frenchman laughed and shook his head.

“Do you really think I will tell you that? I thought you were smarter than this, Ines. To be honest I thought you would be cooler than this too. You disappoint me.”

Ines lowered the wine opener and gave him a hurt look. Maybe it was strange, but even in that situation, she didn't want to disappoint him.

“Why?” She said carefully. The tall man sat down by the kitchen island and drummed with his hands a few times against his thighs.

“Think about it. Me just showing up, interested in your painting. A painting no one else knew about. Don't you think I've done my homework? I know everything about you, everything about that painting.”

Ines looked at him nervously, even if she was also curious. Hearing him talk about her would make her his main character for just a minute but it would be amazing to hear him talk about her like that.

She nodded as an answer and lowered her eyes. It was also obvious he knew more than anyone should.

“I just thought you were so perfect for this, being my partner.” He tried to catch her eyes and when he did he gave her a small but charming smile. She smiled back and felt her cheeks warm. Being his partner sounded exciting but also sexy.

“If… If I am your partner, will I get to know the truth about you then?” She laid the wine opener in front of her on the kitchen island. The man looked away and tried to hide a smirk.

“We will see.”

Ines saw his smirk and analyzed him for a few seconds. It was obvious he was lying, he wouldn't tell her anything. He just needed her for his killing and wouldn't give anything back to her.

“You just want to use me! Isn't that true? You don't want me as a partner, you want me as bait!”

Vincent sighed again and threw his head back.

“I can't stand female hormones…” he muttered and shook his head to himself.

“Excuse me??” Said Ines, offended.

“Can you calm down? I'm right here. And stop taking everything so personal, like I killed your dog or something. I’m just using your ugly painting.” Ines crossed her arms in defense.

“My ugly painting? It's worth millions!”

“Can still be ugly.”

“That's my grandmother!”

He laughed and gave her a pointed smile.

“Who you hated!”

Ines stood quiet and tried to come up with something to say but it was obvious he had done his homework. After having stood silent a while and shifting between looking down at the floor and his smug smile she stomped out from the suite.

“You're just a misogynistic asshole with gross scars!”

She walked out with a bang without looking at him and then ignored Mylan outside the door. She needed to be alone, think everything through. Maybe she just wanted home. Right then and there it felt like it.

×××

Ines walked through the luxury hotel in her Dr. Dre tee and without shoes. She didn't care that snobby people were looking at her like she was insane. Snobby, stupid assholes just like the man she lived with at the moment. Or was he snobby for real? Maybe it all was an act? She had no idea who he was and how much he had lied about. She muttered for herself while she sat in an armchair in the lobby. She curled up in it like she lived on that chair and played with a hole she found on the inside of her leggings. It was a hole from her thighs sliding together every time she walked. Skinny Parisian girls didn't have such problems.

Ines continued to mutter about snobby people, thin aristocratic women and the man in the suite. There was so much to think about and Ines tried to concentrate on the feelings she should feel; hurt, fear, pure horror but instead she muttered about how he wouldn't share the truth with her and that he had spied on her. She really tried to feel what she should feel but she was just upset that he probably sat with fantastic stories and adventures in his bag but he didn't even let her peak, even if he used her and her painting. She knew she would stomp up again to the suite and whine and beg for him to tell her something but first she needed to be away for a while. Hopefully he would miss her and get a bad conscience.

She didn't get the chance to sit in the armchair for long before one of the hotel’s security guards stood in front of her with his thumbs in his belt.

“Est-ce que vous habitez ici mademoiselle?”

Ines sighed because she could guess what he asked.

“I live in suite 5, the big one? My name is Ines Dawson,” she said bored and continued to play with the hole. Of course they wanted her to disappear, they hoped she was some hobo they could throw out and have one less problem.

The security guard looked at her confused, then he turned to the reception and said something. Of course, he couldn't speak English either. Ines shook her head to herself. They were such silly people. Why didn't they know English when they worked at a hotel?

A young woman from the reception came up to her in low chunky heels and looked at her worriedly. They probably thought she was an addict just because she had Dr. Dre on her t-shirt.

“What's your name, ma’am?” said the young receptionist and Ines looked at her offended. She had never been called ma’am, she was 30, not 45.

“Ines Dawson I live in Suite 5. It is in… my… name…” when she said it she thought about the moment when they checked in. The suite was in her name, the money came from her account. Now she could see why; De Gramont wasn't a real name and when the hotel found out they would have been kicked out and maybe his bank information would lead the police to him. The signs had been there early on but she had trusted an unknown man because he was rich and beautiful.

“Do you want escort to your room?” Asked the girl carefully and looked towards the guard. Ines rolled her eyes and stood up.

“I can manage. I promise to go to my room,” she said like a pissed off teen and stomped away to the elevator.

She did what she had told them and walked by Mylan without a look before walking into the suite. She met Vincent at once. He sat on the couch, drinking something amber colored from a glass again.

“Good to see you. I'm going to bed soon, nice to know you're at home then,” he said like he was her father, waiting on her. Ines stood and looked at him with crossed arms but looked down at the glass.

“Can I get some of that?”

The tall man looked down at his glass and licked his lips.

“It's not cognac,” he said shortly, like she had said she wanted cognac.

“Okay, is it whiskey?”

Ines furrowed her brows and sat down in one of the armchairs. If she hadn't been so fascinated by the man's face she had missed the mixed feelings gliding over his face.

“I shouldn't give you anything. You should probably walk to your bedroom so you don't need to be close to my gross back.”

He sounded hurt and Ines could see an insecurity in his manners. He had really taken offense and she hadn't even thought about the insult she had thrown in his face. He was hurt that she had looked at his wounds in distaste. Ines swallowed hard.

“I didn't mean that. I… Was just angry?”

He looked at her for some long seconds. Ines wanted to ask him about the wounds but first she needed to be forgiven. He nodded a little and then walked to the spirit trolley. He lifted up a bottle she knew all too well and looked at him surprised.

“Jim Beam?”

He gave her a look without saying anything. He took up an ice cube from the silver bucket and then poured over the bourbon. He gave her the glass and walked to the couch again.

“What is your real first name? You must be able to tell me that?”

He took a sip from his glass and after that leaned his elbows on his knees.

“It is Vincent. I can promise you that…” he said with a low voice. She could see that he didn't want to talk about it but even he may have understood that he must give her something.

“Are you… an assassin?” Ines asked with excitement. She knew she should be scared but she was just eager to be in a great story.

“No… I am The Marquis,” he said with a serious look.

“But isn't that just like a noble man? You kill?”

Vincent looked in front of him and then nodded slowly.

“It's something else in my world…”

Ines looked at him with big eyes and she just knew that for tonight he wouldn't tell her more than that about what his job was.

They sat silent for a while and drank the bourbon. She smirked a little of the thought that the fine Frenchman drank Jim Beam in his luxury suite. She looked at him, admired him. He was really beautiful, especially in profile when you could see his upturned nose, how full his lips were and the length of his eyelashes. Slowly he turned his head to her and looked back at her in silence.

“Can I see your back again?” She asked carefully. She was curious but had also still a bad conscience that she had made him feel ashamed.

“So you can call me ugly? I think I’ll pass,” he said with an unamused laugh. Once again he looked insecure and hurt and it made Ines move to sit next to him on the couch.

“No… I'm really sorry for what I said… And you're so beautiful, please just let me see it again?”

They looked each other deep in the eyes for a moment and after Vincent had emptied his glass he unbuttoned his shirt slowly and let it glide down his naked arms. Ines admired his broad chest first. He was completely shaved and his skin was smooth as a doll’s. He wasn't exactly fit but she could see the shape of his muscles and it made her believe he once had been more muscular than he was now. Vincent looked at her examining while he let the shirt glide off to the couch and then turned around so she could see his naked back. Ines looked at his wounds. He had five bullet holes and then the longer wound from his neck down between his shoulders. They were not gross. They had healed beautifully and were probably not so fresh as she first had believed. She touched them carefully with her fingertips but then kissed the longer wound with an open mouth. She could feel Vincent deep breaths but he let her continue, leaving kisses over his whole back, like beautiful patterns over the pattern he hated.

“When did it happen?” She whispered and pressed her cheek against his back.

“I was 24.”

“How old are you now?”

“33.”

They breathed deeply together until Vincent chose himself to continue.

“I almost became paralyzed… I still have issues… Pain…” he said lowly and with a softer voice than she was used to.

“How does that affect you today?”

Vincent scratched his cheek and laid his hand over his chest.

“I can't run. I can't fight. I can't do the job I once did. I am a cripple.”

Ines looked up, looked at his neck like she could see his emotions without looking at his face.

“Don't say that…” she whispered with empathy. He made her chest hurt and she was surprised he could awaken this sort of emotion in her.

“Is… Is sex such a thing too?” She asked carefully, thinking back to what he had said when they came to Paris. Vincent was silent and dusted off his thighs. It was enough as an answer. Ines looked at the wounds and felt awful. He really was a wounded man and she had treated him like he just was prude.

“I'm sorry…” she whispered and the tears could be heard in her voice when they pushed their way out of her eyes. Vincent turned around and looked at her with furrowed brows but not the same way he usually did.

“It's not your fault…” he said lowly and took her hand in his. “This is just a part of me now…” he said but he looked away like he hadn't really accepted that. Ines looked at him for a few seconds and could see a light shine to his eyes. He wasn't at all as cold as he seemed to have been and probably even mastered chronic pain all the time. She straightened up on the couch and placed her lips over his. She needed to come close and she also noticed he needed the same thing. He deepened the kiss at once, pushed her body against his and invaded her mouth with a soft friendly tongue.

×

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #vincent de gramont #the marquis #john wick #4 #vincent

[thesunmeltedthegrayaway]

Heart Made of Gold: Johnny Lawrence x French!Reader

A/N: I did some research for this request, so I apologize if certain aspects of this are inaccurate. I did end up changing the request slightly so I hope it doesn't ruin anything for you.

Also, I had to use google translate so I know some dialogue won't be perfect lol.

I feel like I wrote this in a weird way lol (probably the POV change threw me off) But, I hope you enjoy it!

The request is...

Y/F/N... she was all Johnny ever seemed to think about now in days. Her smile, her Y/C eyes, her Y/C hair, her beautiful heart, all of it imprinted themselves into his subconscious. He didn't understand, how someone who he had just met made him feel so flustered and lovesick so quickly. He felt so conflicted and confused, so... unlike himself. After all, he was always taught to remain composed, to not let your emotions show. And that didn't exactly line up with how you've been taught a future love interest to act.

But sadly for him, he didn't know any of that. To you, you, and whoever you were interested in would simply get to know each other for a while and then kiss. Then boom, you're together...no talk, no worrying, and no confusion in between.

But to Johnny, things go a lot differently...

To him, trying to pursue a relationship is throwing milk duds at the girl sitting in front of you and hoping she notices you. Then after weeks and months of possible confusion turns into the awkward moment of dates and having "the are we boyfriend girlfriend talk."

To you getting into a relationship was black and white, a basic point A to point B route. Meanwhile, Johnny's idea of getting into a relationship had a large grey area in between the black and white spectrum. Things were a lot more complicated on his end.

It was never that you weren't interested in Johnny (you definitely were.) The only thing was that you expected him to make the first move, to show confidence, it was just the way you've been taught.

But again, Johnny didn't know any of this stuff. He tried to be subtle with you, he wanted to see how you would react to his off-handed comments and flirts. Your reactions weren't exactly very forthcoming. You would just stand or sit there, looking at him with a small smile. But you wouldn't say anything else, you'd just listen to him talk.

It confused the ever-living hell out of him. Usually, he would just repetitively ask out a girl until they finally said yes to him. But, you made him act differently, and he had no idea how to get the simple words out of his mouth.

"Would you like to go out sometime..."

He tried to ask you, he really did. Every time he tried to, however, they somehow got stuck in his throat, or for the split second your eyes locked with his he became a bumbling, stuttering mess.

Johnny knew how sought after you were. He saw every turn of people's heads, how their eyes scanned you up and down, how they licked their lips and got devious glints in their eyes whenever you acknowledged them. It made his stomach twist, his blood boil, and his temper flare higher than ever before. He thought those feelings would give him the courage he needed to finally ask you. But then his stepfather and sensei's voices would kick into his head and drag him back down to reality.

"Keep your composure."

"Don't show your emotions, that's a weakness."

But then, he would remember your voice that reminded him of honey. It seems as though each word you spoke rolled off your tongue with ease. You could say the most mundane sentence, but it would sound like you were reciting a poem to him...

Johnny simply didn't know what to do at this point. He didn't know what were and weren't the right things to say and do. So, he sought out some advice, and who was a better person to go to for advice other than Bobby?

~~~

POV: Johnny's

"I don't know what to do Bobby. She isn't giving me any signs on whether or not she likes me." I admitted.

"Maybe things are just different in France than they are here," Bobby answered.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Not every place in the world is like America. Y/N probably sees asking someone out as something entirely different than how we would."

"I- I never thought of that."

Bobby looked at me dumbfounded before replying. "How have you not thought about that?"

"I don't know man, this chick has got me all mixed up!" I exclaimed bashfully.

"Well, Johnny you're going to have to figure that out on your own. Read a book, ask around, just- do something. Because I've seen the way people look at her. You're not the only one who's interested in her."

~~~

Johnny took Bobby's advice to heart and before he knew it he was surrounded by books. He spent hours, days, locked away in his room reading page after page. Desperately wanting to understand what he was and wasn't doing wrong.

He wanted a deeper understanding of the girl who completely turned his world upside down. The girl who made him feel warmth and enamor had never experienced before and who had shown him a kindness he had never been shown before.

~~~

You on the other hand were now feeling confused yourself. It was strange to you how more and more distant Johnny seemed. The boy who had caught your eyes the second you saw him had practically disappeared now. It was a shame really, just when you were getting to know him you saw him less and less.

That was until today...

You were leaning against your locker just taking a second to relax after a long school day. Then suddenly, you heard the voice you had been missing all week.

"Hey, Y/N, you wanna... go for a ride on my bike?" Johnny asked.

Yes, this is what you've been waiting for... the opportunity to get to know Johnny more. To just have a moment alone with him that didn't have some strange added pressure to it.

"Sure." You say eagerly making Johnny's once slightly nervous expression dissipate. "But, I have to admit I've never been on a motorbike before."

Johnny's eyes seemed to light up as he began to talk about his bike. "Oh, it's great! It's just a total rush, I remember the first time I drove my bike... it was a feeling I won't forget."

You admired the passion he had for something he was interested in. It was refreshing seeing him explain something so confidently to you.

"Just hold on tight," He said as he handed you a spare helmet he had.

You took his advice being sure to lock your hands together once they made their way around his midsection. You gasped as the bike's engine roared to life and echoed into the wind. The grip that you thought couldn't possibly be tighter strengthened as you drove down the road. You placed your chin on Johnny's shoulder in hopes of seeing that same fiery expression you had saw before. Sure enough, it was there. His grin was wide, his eyes looked lively, he seemed so free at that moment...

You could get used to seeing Johnny like this.

~~~

You admired the beach he had taken you to. The peaceful sound of the restless water crashing against the sand and rocks nearby relaxed you. You and Johnny walked along the beach in comfortable silence. You and Johnny eventually took refuge on one of the large rocks surrounding the water. You smiled blissfully at the view, the wind that blew softly through you just made the atmosphere feel that much more perfect.

"Tu es belle." (You're beautiful.) Johnny seemingly whispered if the waves had crashed a little harder.

You might not have heard him at all. You're face heated up on its own will, your blissful smile became slightly bashful. You turned your head to stare in those deep blue eyes.

"Quoi?" (What?) You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right.

"I- I'm not the best at speaking French so I'm sorry if I get something wrong but..." He paused taking a breath as if to prepare himself for something. "Je veux sortir avec toi un jour." (I want to go out with you sometime.)

"Vraiment?" (Really?") It wasn't typically how someone would want to pursue something with you. But, you understood that he might not understand everything about your culture.

"Vraiment." He repeated making me smile shyly.

"J'aimerais bien." (I would like/love to.)

Johnny let out a sigh of relief before his usual smile made its way back onto his face. He seemed to lean in for a second but then stopped. "C-can I kiss you?"

"We usually don't accept a kiss on the first date," You say honestly. "But, kisses on the cheek are okay." Before he could react you pecked his cheek making it light up with a reddish hue.

"Merci..." He said breathlessly making you laugh.

"Merci de vouloir en apprendre davantage sur ma culture. Je sais qu’il y a beaucoup de gens ici qui ne sont pas prêts à le faire."

(Thank you for wanting to learn more about my culture. I know there are many people around here who aren't willing to.)

We gave each other a warm smile before laying back on the large rock we were sitting on. We spent the day staring up at the cloudy yet blue sky.

Not a bad "first date" not a bad one at all...

A/N 2: Yeah I don't know how I feel about this lol but at the same time it was fun to write. I hope you like it.

#johnny lawrence #the karate kid #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence x you #johnny lawrence imagines

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Jeff The Killer with Camgirl S/O

How fucking dare you?

Just sitting there with slutty clothes presenting your lovely flesh and figure for other men to see for men who don't own you. Who don't love you, fuck you, or hold you. Something that was his job as he was crowned your boyfriend.

He watches you from across the room as he sat on an old office chair, growing more and more pissed off as you giggle innocently at the webcam sporting on your laptop. The same innocent giggle that you did when you would purposely get him jealous just so he would dick you down later.

He was more than aware of your games and this was just one of them.

His fist clenches nails digging into his clothed knees, threatening to rip the fabric of his jeans. The way your leg slides up and the fishnets showing more than enough of your skin. As far as he knew, that skin only for his eyes to see and of course these disgusting assholes paid to see those parts of you.

The only thing that kept him from not stomping over there and ripping the cords to shreds, shutting the scene down and deactivating your account was because 1. None of them actually get to touch you. They're just seeing from a screen 2. It did bring in money but it was the point of it.

His ears perk up at the familiar ding of when someone pays you a tip, making your smile turn into a toothy grin before licking your lips and spreading your legs a little more, sliding your hand teasingly downwards. "You're willing to pay that much for me to just play with myself? How generous." he snickers, rolling his eyes as that was your fake appreciative voice.

The same way people worked in customer service have but you obviously made more and were happier, it was present in your voice. And it irked him to no end.

Of course, you happened to just pick a perfect shade of lighting for tonight's show. One that happened to be his favorite especially compared to your body.

Cherry red lights with some neon lights in the back, creating the picture perfect shadows for your curves, accentuating the best of you possible, which was every part to him. But red was such a lustful color as well and oh honey, how greatly you were wearing it tonight.

His leg began to bounce up and down in aggravation, slowing feeling the need to chew his nail till they were all bloody.

Ha. How great would it look for you to suck on his fingers, lapping up all of the blood with big doey eyes silently asking for more to taste.

You were such a beautiful creature to break and mold to his perfection.

"Alright then!" you giggle, using your hands to pull down your lacy underwear, swinging it around your finger before making the point to throw it far enough to where it lands on his face.

You watch for a moment admiring the sight of his shoulders tensing as he was sniffing the underwear where your pretty cunt was hiding behind moments ago.

Oh, how sweet you smelled.

But then you pay attention back to the crowd, sliding just one digit down to your puffy folds, beginning to fake moan which almost makes Jeff laugh from behind the scenes.

You were such a liar. You didn't know yourself more than he did. He knew the twists and turns, inside and out and everything else just by how much his dick had paid your cunt a visit. You were his personal cocksleeve anyways.

A few more dings come through, wanting you to use more than your fingers to please yourself. You really wanted to use Jeff's knife handle but you had a feeling the men on this platform were too boring and vanilla for that.

Holding in a sigh, you turn around and get on your knees letting the camera get a nice view of your ass and pussy as you lean towards the lower shelf on the nightstand where you and Jeff kept your plastic box of toys. You smirk as you hear a low growl but roll your eyes his way, sending him a wink but not making it noticeable enough to raise questions.

You hum, turning back around the shirt you wore right now gave visual access to your cleavage.

The urge to claim you in front of others was getting stronger, almost a painful knot in his stomach as he watches you with eager eyes rummaging through the toy box, asking which one they would like to see you use to abuse your cunt with.

Though he didn't want to blow your cover of being 'single' as that was what you claimed because people would want to offer more money to someone who couldn't get help from someone else especially these filthy bastards who think if it wasn't for them, you would be homeless and no way to buy things to customize certain requests and make more money.

His heart started beating faster his breathing harder before he marched over there and the second your eyes connected you knew this was game over.

"Oh shit." you mumble, before being pushed onto your back already knowing to listen to whatever he wanted as he was your real savior.

He turns to the camera with an angry look on his face, several usernames exiting out of the room but plenty remained but the chat stopped with the emojis and suggestions. He continues to stare down at the screen before snapping his head over to you.

"You want to show them who you really belong to?" Oh how quick your submissive side caved for him and you nod, whimpering a little as he was taking a bit too long for your liking.

"That's a good girl." he smirks, taking out his knife from his hoodie the bit of light making the blade glint, moving a little to the side so the audience had just enough of a view to see what he was going to do.

He reverses the knife so it was the handle that teases your sopping sweetness that was begging for him already muscles pulsating and working themselves in preparation for him.

You whine, exposing yourself more for him as he shoves more of the handle into you the blade cutting his hand as he gripped it. His eyes narrow at you as he uses one of his hands to go to your lips. "Lick, slut. Show them how freaky MY girl is."

Well you were definitely going to be known for something on this platform.

Taking a moment to shared lock eyes it was enough to part your lips open for him to slip his long manly fingers into your mouth blood mixing with your saliva.

Such a delicious combination.

The two of you mixing so well.

Your moan grow louder in the room and with it not being soundproof, they only echoed.

Small spaced out dings could be heard as you both collected money from horny cocks. You were absolutely losing yourself to him once again as he continues with the handle before pulling it out.

"How cute...you've already creamed on it...this all for me doll?" he asks with a teasing tone as the handle shows hot white liquid over it. You nod frantically, whining while tears begin to build and threaten to fall from being teased and nothing more.

He was usually talkative during sex like his own words turn him on as well along with how your body responds to them.

He licks his lips slowly before sliding his tongue over the black cover of the knife, licking up your sweetness and swallowing it. He was quiet compared to you, he would not dare to make a single noise especially on camera. No. If anyone was going to be loud it was going to be you.

"You want my cock, sweetheart?" He asks, grabbing you and moving your body so once he fucks you he wouldn't be blocking the view. He gave the camera a side view and your face was now visible.

"Yes, daddy." you said respectively in a desperate tone, squeezing your thighs against him to trap him in your grip, but he just snickers grabbing some pink rope and quickly tightens your wrists together before stretching your arms over your head. "Beg." he says, taking his clothes off to reveal his overly sexy body.

Abs for days with prominent muscles and bones showing with his back and collarbones and oh fuck, his shoulder. He had a deep cut v line with a pretty thick dick that was around 7 inches.

What was enough to make you so full and slutty.

You hated when he did this because you could feel yourself growing shy but it was worse this time as there were eyes watching you. You look at him, silently sending him a message to just fuck you without saying anything. But he just smirks, leaning down to kiss your knee and to your thigh while making sure his dick teases your entrance.

You were in so much pain and all you could do was use your legs to touch him and nothing else. "P-p-please daddy.." you begin, making him tilt his head. "Please what? finish your sentence."

You swallow thickly, pressing your body against his trying to gain more of a chance for him to slip inside of you, but he pushes away. "Finish your sentence."

"Please daddy fuck me dumb like the stupid slut I am." you whine your cunt growing more and more wet and needy.

"Was that so hard?" he asks before ramming himself into you making you cry out in pleasure and some pain as he didn't let you adjust before continuing to thrust.

"This. This is my fucking cunt. I don't even have to pay for some lousy show with some fake ass moaning-" He growls, obviously sending a message to the remaining people.

"I own her. She's my little slut. My girl, to love, to hold, to FUCK! And guess what? I get it for free." He laughs seeing tears streak down to your cheeks.

"How pathetic that you only touch yourself, imagining how it would feel to be inside of her, well that's not enough." He grunts, grabbing his knife to make small cuts on your hips before leaning down to lick them up. Making some more cuts and spreads it around your stomach with his hand.

"She's my little freak." He only continued to get you bloodier and that was enough to make everyone leave.

He immediately pulls out making you kick your legs in a tantrum as he goes over and cuts the wires, disconnecting from everything and takes his time deleting your account. "I hope you learned your lesson." He says, eyeing you as you struggled to get the rope off your wrists watching as puts his pants back on and leaves the room.

Leaving you a bloody, horny, wet whore surrounded by toys and the memories of him using them on you. His scent all around. Everything in the room was his.

Including you.

#creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta thirst #proxies x reader

[say-narry]

Characters: Harry!boyfriend x reader

Word count: ~1.8K

Tags: insinuations, masturbation, explicit sex

Quotes: 5. "The noises you make are amazing" / 21. "Lie down and touch yourself. I want to watch."

Author's note: English isn't my first language, tell me if you enjoyed

Versão em pt-br

Touch yourself

Harry's house was the best place in the world.

Because of the extensive area, with high walls and almost isolation, we could scream and moan as loudly as we could and as much as we could.

Harry loved this show and so did I. He was on vacation, a fortnight away from the show.

He was on vacation, 15 days to be exact. I had also taken a leave of absence from work and my college was once a week, so we could be stuck with each other all the time.

Today would be no different.

It was late Friday night, we had made a carbonara and red wine.

We talked about his next movie, about his band, about Mitch's son, and about my college.

It was so nice to live with Harry in that way. He was witty, he always made me laugh, and we were good together, in bed and out.

Harry went through the streaming catalog and nothing, he went through the animated movies but we had seen almost all of them, horror movies were not a good choice because I had frequent nightmares, until he came to one: 365 dni.

I had seen this movie before, Massimo was mafia and had kidnapped Laura, who in turn resisted the temptation to fuck him and in the end they fell in love.

The plot was not so good, but the explicit scenes were to be given a standing ovation.

"How about it?" Harry suggested with a mischievous little smile on his lips, I agreed as if I hadn't noticed that.

I continued with my glass of wine in one hand while scrolling through social media on my smartphone with the other. I was sitting next to Harry on the huge black couch, who was lying down and patting my bent knee.

Every now and then I would look at the screen, the actor Michele Morrone was showing off his tattoos and fit body, I wouldn't be crazy to deny how gorgeous he was.

"Do you think he's handsome?" I heard Harry's voice and turned my face quickly, I didn't know if it was embarrassment or the wine, but my cheeks heated up.

"You don't think so?"

"Don't answer one question with another, lovie." Her eyes closed minimally and her dimples showed.

"I think, this man must do some damage." I teased Harry, who crossed his arms and sat down on the couch, staring at me in an indignant way.

"What about me, Y/N?" His voice came out squeaky, which made him scratch his throat making me laugh.

"What about you?" I turned my attention back to my cell phone. We had always been very free to talk about sex, no wonder Harry wrote about it in his songs.

"I also do damage in bed, your squirts are proof of that." His hand that was on my knee, went to my thigh, closer to my spot.

"I never denied that, Harry." I blocked the cell phone and climbed into his lap. He was wearing a pair of shorts and was apparently without underwear, because as soon as our privates made contact, I could tell his cock was already a little perky. "But what do you say we test something?" I put my hair to the side and my hands on his shoulders, my right hand pulling his head to the side, giving me room to take advantage of his exposed neck.

I moaned softly and rolled over once, which was enough for Harry's hands to grab my waist and press me down further, making me feel his member even more.

"Anything you want, baby." Harry moaned with his eyes closed and I licked his neck before branding him.

I moved up to his marked jaw. I could hear the movie in the background, but I didn't care, Harry's uncompressed breathing was what mattered.

"I want you to masturbate for me." I spoke softly in his ear and Harry's fingers gripped my ass, digging his fingers into my flesh.

"Volvyer?" His question came out in a whisper and I agreed with a grunt.

I had already done this on video call, I spread my legs and deleted myself with my own fingers while Harry masturbated his own cock on the tour bus. He owed me one.

Within minutes, his clothes were on the floor and I was still only in my panties and bra. I ran my wet panties over his semi-erect cock, moving it back and forth.

I couldn't wait to feel him stretching and thrusting until I was senseless, but I would like to have that scene in my head.

"Do it for me, baby. I licked his lips and pulled him with my teeth "Lie down and touch yourself. I want to watch."

I left a kiss on his mouth and sat down next to Harry, touching my clit under my panties.

Harry grabbed his long pink member, moving it from top to bottom, biting his lower lip and sometimes seeing his belly flex momentarily, due to the excitement coursing through his cock.

I continued massaging my clit, Harry could see my act, so much so that his empty hand reached out and pulled my panties aside.

"Baby..." he moaned.

"Come on baby, I'm so wet for you, do this for your lovie..." I tapped my wet center, evidencing what I was saying.

My blood shot out of my chest and I could see the pre-cum dripping from the head of Harry's cock. It was beautiful to see his lips and the head of his cock in the same color, it was sexy and exciting.

I saw Harry's member get a little bigger, his right hand that was on it already showed the bulging veins, the sound of the humidity was louder than the sound of the TV. Harry laid his head down and his hand took more precise movements "Y/N... I want to fuck you so hot..." Harry's chest was already sweating, his cock was shiny from excitement and at times I saw his hips lift off the couch as he tried to take more friction from his own hand. "I thought of my pussy squeezing you baby, you know how hot and tight I am...you make me so full..." Harry's mouth opened and his hand quickened.

I had stopped touching myself to enjoy the scene, but Harry's fingers moved under my spot very slowly, making me spread my legs even wider.

Harry was sweating, his breathing was ragged, his eyes closed with a frown on his forehead and his mouth still ajar. "Oh Hazz..." I moaned rolling around in his fingers as I gripped the couch cushions.

It was the sight of the highest carnal pleasure.

"Oh... I'm going to cum..." Harry moaned and I plucked up courage and sat down next to him, I placed my hand over his and settled down kissing his neck. "The noises you make are amazing..." I moaned and soon the the liquid of Harry's arousal was all over my hand, his cock with bulging veins was hot and heavy, sometimes I ran my thumb over his glans and he stretched his legs in a spasm and opened his mouth even wider. "Do you want to cum, Harry?"

He nodded in agreement as my movements became slower "Yes Y/N, please, I beg you, I was a good boy!" Harry moaned desperately and arched his hips again "My good little boy..." I sped up my movements on Harry's cock and my other hand returned to my clit.

Within minutes, we both let out moans in unison in the room, Harry's cock was spasming as he released his thick, white leitinho as I felt my panties get completely wet.

"Ohh... ohh... oohh" Harry grabbed my hand that was making the last movements on his cock and squeezed it, in a kind of milking.

Harry's toes had curved, his cum dripping down onto his abdomen and now with his eyes open, you could see his pupils dilated and his breathing deep.

I ran my index finger in my mouth and sucked it staring at him, still with my head lying on the couch next to him, thanks to Harry's fruit diet, its taste was pleasant.

"Did you like it?" Harry asked and I agreed, a little soft from the recent orgasm "You teased me too much, we make a great team..."

"We are Harry..." I closed my eyes and heard I see red playing in the background.

"Baby..." Harry called out to me.

"Yes, honey?" Sleep had caught up with me after all this effort with relaxation.

"I'm going to buy us a boat."

I still kept my eyes closed, but I could see the scenes in replay and Harry's mischievous smile as he said it... and I definitely wasn't going to complain about being Harry's Laura.

#fanfic harry styles #one shot harry styles #harry styles fanfic #imagine harry styles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #prompt harry styles

[cryptiql]

smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

[quirk-incarnate]

Erwin fic!!!

Erwin x fem reader

Minors DNI 18+

tw: throat fucking, oral m. receiving, toxic relationship, blood, degradation, kinda intense?? Please let me know if I forgot to tag something/you need something tagged

authors note: this is for @cyancherub 's wheel of misfortune collab for cotober 7th [😭] it's taken me like over a month to post this, I got covid right before the fic was due and man it wiped me out for like 6 weeks. I'm much better now and will be working on some upcoming fics I've been thinking about but have been unable to execute with work taking all my energy.  hopefully returning to normal content/interraction. Thank you so much again Cassie for hosting the collab and please check out the rest of the works bc uh, yum??

When I wrote this initially I was thinking about Mr. and Mrs. Smith, you know, the one movie with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie? So maybe go into this with that mindset/framework for context.

You hadn't meant to find his secret. It was an honest mistake, anyone would have made it. Your husband always said stay out of the garage, but he wasn't answering your calls for dinner. "Honey, dinner-" the rest of the sentence died on your lips. Erwin was at the garage sinks scrubbing his skin but his shirt... the back of it was covered in blood. He met your eyes in the mirror. "Is that your blood?" His gaze hardened. "Or someone elses?" he dropped the rag he was scrubbing his forearms with in the sink with a sickening twap as you turned and bolted to the house. Three breaths and he was on top of you, grabbing your arm and dragging you inside. He slammed and bolted the back door before pulling you along.

"Erwin, what are you doing?"

Erwin dragged you to your room by the arm and threw you forcefully on the bed. He turned and shut the door, locking it. "What is this about? What did you do?" Questions poured from your lips as you began to question your husband.

"You werent supposed to find out." His back was to you as he gripped the doorknob. "If you'd just stayed out of the garage like a good girl-"

"Did you do something bad?" You whispered timidly. The light in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder wasn't the usual loving warmth but something more sinister. He smirked.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." He stalked toward the bed. "But I suppose I could be reasoned with. If only for my good little girl"

"You wouldn't kill me. I'm your wife. You- You wouldn't"

"Is that a gamble you want to take sweetheart?" This was no longer a lovers quarrel between husband and wife. This was a killer predator in your home, in your bedroom. As Erwin stalked towards you, any strength you had vanished.

"you don't have to kill me." you stuttered. "I- I can be your good girl, I can forget what I saw. Please, I'll do anything!!" You begged. Erwin stopped in the middle of the room and crossed his arms, spreading his legs hip width apart. "I'm not convinced. You haven't been a good girl, you've been a bad girl." You slid off the bed on your hands and knees, slowly crawling towards Erwin.

"C-Comander sir" you breathed opening your mouth to lick at the growing bulge in his pants. "No hands," he told you, watching as you struggled to try and pull his cock free with just your mouth. "Such a little thing, cant even do that right," He reached down and tugged down his trousers, his cock springing up and narrowly hitting you in the face. You made sure to meet his eyes like he wanted, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. In a last act of defiance, instead of taking him in your warm wet mouth and sucking, you placed little kitten licks along his head, teasing his slit. Erwin growled, tapping your cheek in warning but you just looked at him through your lashes and pouted. That was the final straw. Erwin grabbed your nose and pinced it, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. When you gasped for breath, Erwin shoved his cock down your throat with a groan. He shifted his hands to your head to hold you in place as he snapped his hips forward, gasping as he felt your throat constricting around his head. "Not such a disobedient little tease now, are you?" he growling, ignoring you gasping for air, chocking on your own saliva and his pre cum. He pulled your head away. He dragged you over to the bed, laying you on your back so your head hung off the side before tapping the head of his cock against you lips, pushing you to open again

"Nasty little thing, can't do anything I ask. Need your Commander to remind you how you should behave, huh?" He watched as his cock bullied itself down your throat, watching the stretch of your neck. Reverently, he laid his hand along your throat, dwarfing your neck with his palm and feeling himself stretch down your throat with his thrusting hips. "See, such a good girl when you listen to your Commander, to your Husband." You moaned at his words, although you normally didn't like being degraded, there was something so hot about how feral Erwin became. A hand tentatively reached up to fondle his balls which made him hiss and grip at your throat tighter, his thumb pressing against the artery making you light headed. "Little wife wants my cum hm? You want what's in that ballsack?" You moaned and gripped his sac a little tighter before rolling them in your palm. Erwin cursed and withdrew his hand from your neck to fondle at your tits. "Gonna cum little one. Take it, take it all." You wanted to moan at the sensation, your eyes rolling back as you drank his essence down your throat. Erwin Sat you up, holding you by the shoulders and staring into your eyes,

"That's my good little wife. Remember your place."

#my post #wheel of misfortune #erwin x reader #erwin smut #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #throat fucking tw #blood tw #degradation tw