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retrobutterflies · 2 years

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Menace | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names

A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.

The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.

"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.

"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.

Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.

"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.

"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.

"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.

"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.

"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.

"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."

"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.

"Disintegrating?" you repeated.

"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.

"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."

"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."

"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"

"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.

"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.

He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.

Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.

"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.

"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.

"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.

"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.

There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."

Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.

"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.

"Taking any what?"

"Card decks. She likes to collect them."

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.

"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.

It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.

And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.

"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.

"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.

"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.

"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."

Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.

"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.

You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.

"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.

"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"

"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.

"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.

"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.

He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.

"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.

"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.

"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.

He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.

"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.

"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.

You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.

When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.

"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.

"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.

"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.

"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.

"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.

"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.

"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.

The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.

When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.

"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."

"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.

As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.

With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.

"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.

"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.

"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.

"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.

He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.

"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.

Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.

He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.

When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.

"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.

"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.

"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.

“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.

“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.

“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.

“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.

Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.

Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.

“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.

“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.

“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.

“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.

“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.

“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.

“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.

“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.

“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.

You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.

“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.

He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers.

"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk.

He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.

"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.

"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.

“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.

“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things fanfic

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bewarethecircles · 10 months

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After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced.

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names.

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift.

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??”

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both.

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily.

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel.

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which.

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour.

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

#ineffable bureaucracy #gabriel x beelzebub #beelzebub x gabriel #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #is all of this in character? Maybe not #but the dynamic they have in my brain is hilarious so it's what I'm going with

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spyder-junkie · 11 months

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I just cant stop thinking of Earth-42! miles with a reader that falls for prowler first.

(had to rewrite this post because it didnt save the first time *frustration*)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X Reader

I imagine you’ve snuck out, leaving your apartment in the middle of the night unbeknownst to your parents.

Youre walking down to your house under the cover of darkness when quickly you notice your being followed.

You curse silently.

The man behind you is much bigger than you are, and youre not sure you could fight him off if it came to it.

You start taking random turns, leading the man away from your apartment building, but as you being to pass an alley way, he grabs you, ducking you in.

He has you against a wall, his forearm holding your neck to the bricks.

“Youre real beautiful, do me a favor and keep quiet.” You flinch as his voice, hands shaking as your eyes begin to water.

Then suddenly theres a ‘whoosh’ and the man falls to the ground, dead.

You look up to your rescuer, and its the prowler, a well know criminal in the area.

Your heart beats in your ears as he begins to walk away, boots clanking down the sidewalk.

You run after him.

“Thank you!” You say, jogging to keep up with his strides.

“You really saved my ass.”

“It’s dangerous out at night.” He huffs, voiced warbled by the mask. You let out a little chuckle.

“Yeah…” You stop walking.

“Could you walk me home? please?”

The prowler stops walking, most likely contemplating what he should do. Then he lets out another sigh.

“You owe me.” He states firmly, turnning around to face you.

You smile, carefully wrapping your hand around two if his clawed, gloved fingers and leading him in the opposite direction.

The walk was almost silent, you taking occasional glances at the villian by your side. You noticed he had two thick braids that cascaded down his neck.

What you didnt notice was the glances he spared at you.

When the two if you reached your apartment, he watched as you climbed the fire escape to your window. You open it, climbing inside. Then you pole your head back out, mouthing a ‘thank you!’ and waving down at the prowler.

you wait expectantly for him to wave back, smiling once he finally does.

Then he disappears.

You didnt know if you would ever see the masked villian again.

So imagine your surprise two weeks later when theres a knock at your window.

It was around 8pm, you were working on a school assignment when the sound of metal tapping glass hit your ears.

You turn in your spinning chair, eyes widened at the sight of prowler crouched in your window.

You rush to unlock it, pullibg up the glass pane and letting the night air in.

“Missed me?” You ask, trying to mask the shaking in your voice.

“Do you have a digital alarm clock?” He asks, ignoring your question all together.

You think for a moment.

“I might have my old one in my closet.” You say, not giving him a chance to reply before you turned on your heel.

You expected him to follow you, but he didnt, staying perched in the window and looking around your bedroom from the outside.

He waited as you rummaged through your things.

Then suddenly you emerged, holding an alarm clock, the cord trailing behind you.

What do you need it for?” you ask.

“Mechanical parts.” was his vauge reply.

, you hand it to him.

He held it in one of his clawed hands, getting ready to depart. That was until you crossed your arms and loudly cleared your throat.

He looked at you.

“Thank you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“……..Thanks.” He mumbles, just before jumping off the fire escape and disappearing again.

The next time you see him is well over a month later.

Its a little past 3am, and you’re well into needed sleep.

Then theres another knock at you window.

A bunch of knocks actually. You hear the metal tapping sound until you rise from your bed, annoyed to say the least.

When you see Prowler at your window once again, you pick up the pace moving to the window to open it.

This time, as soon as you life the pane, he steps in.

Or he tries to, he trips, his body hitting the ground softly next to your bed.

“Woah- are you alright…” You ask, panicked.

He doesn’t answer.

“Prowler….?” You ask, closing the window.

Still no answer.

“pleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedead…” You press your ear to his metal chest, bending down to his laying position.

Hes breathing.

You sigh in relief.

You sit and think for a moment before carefully sitting him up.

You try your best to remove all the parts of his suit, placing them in a neat pile in your closet as you go.

You realize theres a flesh wound on the side of his ribs, and a couple cuts and bruises elsewhere.

After immense debate, you hesitantly press the button on his mask, letting it move to the side to reveal his face.

Hes…handsome, you realize, and much younger than you imagined. There was a cut on his face and a bruise by his hairline, there was a bit of bleeding in his scalp, you assumed thats what caused him to pass out.

You tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and begining to clean him up with a warm rag and bandages.

You even unbraid his hair, dressing the wound in his scalp and braiding it back in a way that wouldn’t irritate the healing.

He doesnt stir in the slightest, seemingly a heavy sleeper.

After you’re finished, you carefully move him to your bed, and cuddle up beside him. You get close, but dont touch him, then slowly you drift off to sleep.

When Miles wakes up, his initial response is panic. He begins to look around, trying to pinpoint where he is.

He flinches as he lifts his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning.” You say, emerging from the bathroom dressed for school the day.

He watches as you begin to do your hair in the mirror.

“G’mornin.” He mumbles, still watching you.

“How are you feeling?” You ask. He looks down, analyzing how you dressed his wounds.

“Im fine. Sore. You aint do too bad here.” He says. Now you can really hear his accent without the mask.

“Good. Good… you scared me yknow, I was worried.” You mumble.

Miles furrows his eyes, but he keeps quiet.

He watches as you grab you bookbag and your keys.

“Your suit is in my closet. I set out clean towels in my bathroom if you want to shower. My dad is gone for the day, you can make yourself something to eat if you’d like. Leave whenever you want, just please close my window when you go.” You say, hand on the doorframe.

“Okay………..….thank you.” he mumbles, still staring hard at you.

“You’re welcomeee…..” You leave the sentence open.

“…..Miles.” He says softly.

“Miles.” You repeat.

“Get some rest.” You say, opening the door.

“And dont be a stranger.”

His gaze lingers on the doorway even long after you’ve left.

And when you come home, Miles is gone.

The towels are in the hamper, his suit is gone from the closet, your bed is made, and the window is closed, its like he was never there at all.

But then sitting on your desk, theres $300 cash and a small note.

“Thanks again, Hermosa……-Miles”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles x reader

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shallyouobeyme · 6 months

Text

From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you.

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through.

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights.

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions.

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other.

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother.

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have.

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close.

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both.

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life.

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life.

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely.

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group.

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count.

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough.

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality.

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves.

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again.

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second.

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder.

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events.

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched.

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be.

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left.

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

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acotarxreader · 8 days

Text

Lessons in Herbology

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: You and Azriel are frequently at odds with one another but when Azriel accidently destroys your life's work, the illyrian will do anything to make it up to you.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, scratching? biting

A/N: Alrighty we got some frenemies smut situation going on hehe let me know what you think friends!

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

“AZRIEL!” You screamed from the top of the stairs of the Town House, your voice carried through the whole house and practically into the neighbour's. You had never been so angry with him in your life, with real thoughts that you were going to kill him. You quickly stepped down the stairs, your gait heavily weighted with rage.

“Gods YN, I was in the kitchen not Summer Court” Azriel laughed, meeting you at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes landed on the shredded manuscript you held in your hand, his eyes moved from the ribbons of paper to your enraged eyes. Azriel bolted towards the lounge where your friends sat alarmed at the volume of your voice and pace of Azriels sprint. You darted after him only to have a weight thrown into your stomach, hoisting you off your feet and over a broad shoulder.

“CASS! PUT ME DOWN” Cassian held you as you tried to wriggle from the fireman-style hold, some of the shreds of paper flying around the room.

“Calm down YN we can fix whatever it is - Gods stop hitting me!” he fought against the urge to drop you, Azriel taking sanctuary stood behind the sofa. You allow your body to go limp, forcing a deep breath from your lungs until they empty.

“What on Prythian is going on in here? I heard the shouting from the end of the garden?” Rhysand entered the lounge to his friends, concern and humour painted his face.

“He shredded my FINAL DRAFT of the medicinal encyclopedia I was writing to finally finish my fucking healer apprenticeship” the group inhaled sharply at the severity. You had been working on that for months, it needed to be submitted in a week, eyes all then landing on Azriel.

“I didn’t mean to! I was looking for something in your room and my shadows got a bit frantic at the urgency and-” “-What the hell were you doing in my room?!” you still hung over Cassian's shoulder, simmering in anger.

“-I was looking for Truth Teller AFTER YOU USED IT TO CUT UP HERB SAMPLES” Azriels own voice raising, remembering the disrespect you had shown him the week previously.

“-I’M GOING TO KILL YOU SHADOWSINGER” You began thrashing again, Cassian's fingers burying into your hips.

“Would you two hurry up and have sex already?” The room's eyes landed on a very bored Amren as she rose and made her exit. You breathed deeply out once again.

“Okay, okay, I am calm, I am zen, put me down”

“Ehh I don’t think-”

“I SAID I’M FUCKING ZEN-” you coughed after shouting, clearing your throat before speaking again “-Ahem, I mean, Cassian, if you would please return me to the ground, I am Zen” Cassian glanced at Azriel who looked genuinely terrified.

“Okay, no killing Az though, he owes me a drink-”

“Wow thanks, Cass, my life is only worth a glass of whiskey” Azriel rolled his eyes to his brother as Cassian lowered you to the ground. You ran your hands down the front of your trousers, breathing out until the blood rush from being upside down released itself.

The inner circle watched as you moved towards the kitchen, Azriel remaining behind the sofa as a buffer. You returned a jug of water and the broom, no one taking their eyes off you.

“Cass, please help me with this for a moment” You stood on the edge of the opposite sofa to Azriel, placing the mouth of the jug flush to the roof, the broom then pushed at the base supporting the jug. You gestured with your head for Cassian to take hold of the broom, allowing you to release the jug, its weight now supported by Cassian holding the broom.

“Now, don’t move or you’ll soak the place Cass-”

“-wait what?” Cassian's confusion was cut off by your sudden movement darting towards Azriel.

“COME HERE AZRIEL!” you flew over the sofa that was protecting Azriel, slamming into his chest and sending him flying to the ground, Cassian was completely caught off guard and unsure of what to do, looking between the jug and his two friends near killing one another. Mor, Rhysand and Feyre keeled over with laughter.

—---------------------------

You lay flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, the magnitude of the workload ahead of you washing over you. You left a soaked Cassian to mop up the water after Rhysand finally caught his breath from laughing to separate you from Azriel. You allowed the tears to fall down your cheeks, unable to hold them in any longer.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing while trying to pull the tears back in, a knock gently tapping off your oak door. You silently hoped it was Cassian or Feyre, wishing to openly cry into their arms at your future dissolving in front of your eyes. You opened the door, Azriel blowing in the door passed you before you could close it on him. You were shocked as you closed the door gently so as not to wake the rest of the house, Azriel pacing your room.

“Azriel, please go, I just can’t with you right now” “YN, I am so so s- were you crying?” you span away from him, drifting over towards your bed, climbing into the centre of the shredded paper nest you had made.

“Look, I’m really sorry about the manuscript, normally I wouldn’t care if I drove you this insane but I really didn’t set out to ruin your manuscript as some sort of vendetta-” “You’re rambling Az” “Sorry sorry, long story short I’m here to help you rewrite the whole thing-” your laugh at his words cutting him off before he continued, sitting at the edge of your bed to continue his plea.

“I know I don’t know anything about healing other than what not to do but I can write a lot faster than you and I know you hate me right now but I’m still your friend in a weird us kinda way right?” you didn’t have a reply to that. You and Azriel frequently fought but you were still friends beneath it all.

You didn't expect your body to move towards his, exhaustion and stress perhaps blurring your thought process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, his arms wrapping around your waist returning the sentiment. You fought against your body again, losing the fight as tears began to fall from your waterline once again.

“I am a terrible friend” he whispered into your hair, feeling the scope of the burden his haste had brought you.

“Yeah, you kinda are” You laughed through your tears, your joking tone returned the lightness to Azriels chest. Silence fell around the room, you both just taking a moment to hold one another in ease, a new sense of comfort growing between you both.

You separated, moving deeper into the bed, handing him blank sheets and a pen as you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Azriel slid into the bed alongside you and after a quick debrief, you both began the work of diving into herbology.

You both wrote and researched until three in the morning rolled around, and your eyes grew heavy, sleep fighting your need to keep writing.

“Okay YN, that’s enough” Azriel barely whispered as your eyes finally lost the fight. Your weight fell softly into Azriels side as he gently pulled the pen and paper from your hand. His shadows swept up the stray sheets into a pile on the floor before they pulled a throw blanket from the base of the bed over the both of you. Azriel too tired to fight their mother-hen energy.

—----------------------------

The sunlight crossed your eyes as you rested into Azriels chest causing you to squint into the unforgiving rays. You rolled into Azriels side tighter, further tangling your legs together with a groan of comfort. You then shot upwards in the bed.

“Gods YN what's wrong?” he stretched the words out while straightening his arms out above his head, his eyes adjusting to the light.

“I just woke up next to you is what's wrong! Leave before someone sees you, they'll never let it go” “YN don’t be annoying, nothing happened-” he rolled back towards you, reaching his arm across your abdomen and pulling you back into the mattress “-you were blocking the sun from my eyes a minute ago” You hit him gently into the chest laughing at his dumb smirk and yet you obeyed.

“OH MY GODS I NEED TO FINISH WRITING” You shot back up remembering the mammoth workload ahead of you, Azriel being sent flying towards the floor with your sudden upward movement.

“Okay okay fucking hell, I'll go get you a coffee” he half laughed, pushing himself from the ground and quietly out into the hall.

Azriel strode down the stairs, feeling weirdly warm towards the thoughts of this morning.

“Hey Az, do you-” “Nothing! I did nothing” Cassian raised an eyebrow to the spymaster's rushed and unusually uncontrolled response.

“Okay, I’m going to choose to pretend that wasn’t incredibly suspicious” he laughed from the lounge where he sipped his coffee.

“Wait, I thought you went to the House of Wind last night”

“Yeah I was but then YN and I fell asleep after-” “After what Az? Wait, did you just come out of her room?” he couldn’t hide the giddy smug tone coating his words.

“No no no” Azriel tried to brush him off, moving into the kitchen with Cassian hot on his heels.

“Azriel, did you and YN-” “-Cassian! Do not finish that sentence!” Azriel scrunched his eyes together before reaching for a coffee mug from the press.

“Az, you don’t drink coffee” Cassian smirk now turning to a blinding grin.

“It's for YN and before you start, I was helping her with her manuscript and then we fell asleep, literally nothing else happened” Azriel boiled the water, still refusing to turn to face the Illyrian warrior.

“Did you want something to happen Az? Was it a lesson in Chemistry instead of a lesson in Herbology?” The question caught him entirely off guard, dropping the pouch of coffee granules into the sink with a swear.

“Ohhhhh Azie like YNN-ie”

“Shh she could hear you” he whipped around to his brother with panic at his teasing tone.

“Oh shit you didn’t deny it” Cassin punched Azriel’s arm playfully but harder than intended, some element of his protective nature rearing its head.

“Look, I don’t know, you know I don’t know, I just find her mesmerising but also a mind-altering amount of frustrating”

“Ohh Az you got it so bad for her” he pushed Azriel coltishly again. Azriel returned to finishing the coffee, the noticeable silence from his brother raising a question in his mind. Azriel turned back to find Cassian's eyes fixed heavily onto the ground, now unable to meet his eye.

“Cass…what do you know?”

“N-nothing” Azriel only raised an eyebrow in response, he would always be able to spot a lie, especially with Cassian. Azriel caught Cassian's shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes

“Cassian, you need to tell me right now if I even have the slightest of chances with YN'' The clear and definitive tone of Azriels voice was not lost on Cassian.

“Yeah Az, I kind of do know something” Cassian then proceeded to tell Aziel the story of you. How you liked him since you met four hundred years ago, how you believed you would never be like Mor in his eyes, how you knew you’d never be like Elain in his eyes, your fighting going into overdrive, especially at the time of Elains introduction to your world. How you tried to process and bury your feelings, choosing to stay his frenemy rather than ever risk losing him to unrequited feelings. At the end of it, Azriel felt awash with every and all emotion.

“So wait what about now, does she still feel those feelings?” “Do you want to be with her?”

“We’re not talking about me right now Cass, we’re talking about her! Well?!” “Yeah Az, she still does - Gods she's going to kill me where I stand” Azriel barely heard what was said after the confirmation of what he had secretly wanted for so long. He took a step back from Cass, shock colouring his face before he found his feet rushing him up the stairs and away from Cassian's calls to be careful.

You sat writing away, almost halfway complete with the rewrite as Azriel nearly lashed the door off the hinges and slammed it closed almost as hard. Azriel almost took two steps at a time as he closed the distance between you, he snatched the paper from your hands, throwing it any which way.

“Az what the fuck-” Your confused laugh was cut off as Azriel lunged forward, pushing you into the bed, and hovering above you. You looked into his hazel eyes, which seemed almost lit with fear before he leaned down and connected his lips to yours. You felt the stress he had caused you yesterday be instantly replaced with a pure lightness. He pulled back to look into your eyes again, his face the picture of apologies and petrification, not believing his actions.

“I am so sor-” You cut off his apology by pulling him back to meet you, him smiling into your lips as they met hurriedly.

“This-is-so-crazy” he breathes between kisses.

“It-could-get-crazier” You almost giggled into the breathy kisses, Azriels shadows responding to you by wrapping around your curves. You sat up from beneath him, only separating from him to pull your shirt from over your head, Azriel repeating the action with his own linen. You ran your hands down his chiselled bare chest and he began to nip at yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this YN?” you smiled at his kind eyes, placing a tender kiss in reassurance. As you separated his eyes had turned lustful, your hand reaching and grazing his bulge, gaining a slight groan from him. He promptly stood and removed his trousers as you kicked off your own, sliding further into the bed and beckoning him to follow you. You let out a whimper at the feeling of his teeth marbling your neck, marking you as his.

“I’m gonna give you such crap about that beautiful noise later YN” he grinned, abusing the spot that gained the noise causing more to leave you. He claimed the spot until dapples decorated your skin, the feeling of him hard against you was driving you crazy quickly. You bucked your hips up to meet him harder in sweet friction.

“Okay I can’t wait any longer, I need you, I really fucking need you” he panted, pulling his underwear down, unleashing his full glory, your mouth almost drying at the sight.

Azriel slowly inched into you, allowing you to adjust to the massive length of him, your nails digging into his shoulders in glorious pain. Azriel raised a hand above your head to support himself, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he began to move. Your nails racked up his back at the growing speed, your growing moans spurring him on. Azriels wings splayed out to balance himself, your hand found itself trancing gently the spines sending gratifying shivers down Azriels back.

Your head fell back as you both began to sink into synchronised movement, tightening around him the band began to tighten and tighten and tighten until finally, it snapped. You almost roared his name at the release of pure endorphins, the sound sending Azriel sailing over his own edge. Your legs still wrapped around him as he began to shake through his own orgasm before he slowly pulled out and collapsed breathlessly beside you.

Azriel sat up, hauling the duvet up and over you both as you leaned your back flush with his chest, breathing, fighting to return to regular rhythm.

“Four hundred years huh?” Azriel puffed the words out with a smile. You took a moment to process the words.

“I am going to kill Cassian” You squeezed your eyes closed in almost embarrassment, Azriel leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly.

“Am I forgiven for the manuscript incident?” you hummed in answer to his question, eyes relaxing closed as you both tangled together. You looked to the ground to see Azriel’s shadows mending shreds of paper together.

“Az…did you know that your shadows could do that?” you sat up looking at the now-mended manuscript on the floor.

“Eh…yes I did, I just wanted to spend time with you, don’t kill me” he looked panicked to your disbelief. You just allowed a loud laugh to escape your chest at the absurdity of it all.

“I think you’ll be making it up to me for the rest of your life” “I can’t wait”

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littlexdeaths · 9 days

Text

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕

word count: 8.3k

Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.

The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Parties were never really your scene.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.

However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.

Eddie Munson.

He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.

Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.

Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.

The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.

You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.

Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.

You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.

And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.

So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.

That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.

Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.

Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.

You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.

You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.

Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.

Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.

“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.

But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.

You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.

“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.

The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.

“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.

Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.

Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.

“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”

You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.

“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.

The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.

You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.

If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.

“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”

You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.

The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.

“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”

Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.

“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.

The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”

You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.

You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.

But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.

But he knows he can’t. Not here.

Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.

Anywhere is better than here.

You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.

You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.

While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.

You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.

Skank, prude, lying whore.

The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.

How did you even get to this point?

Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.

It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.

Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.

Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.

What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.

You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.

It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.

But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.

A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.

You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.

You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.

That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.

You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.

The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.

While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.

You feel vulnerable and exposed.

You hate it.

Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.

Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.

“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.

The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.

The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.

“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”

You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.

He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.

“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.

He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.

But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.

You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.

Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.

He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.

“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”

“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.

“Something like that.”

Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.

His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.

You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.

You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.

You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.

Music.

Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.

He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.

“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”

He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.

Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.

You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.

“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”

Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.

“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.

You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.

“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.

The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.

The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.

I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.

“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.

You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.

You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.

Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.

But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.

You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.

You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.

You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.

You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.

You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.

“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.

Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.

Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.

In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.

But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.

Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.

“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”

You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.

"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."

You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.

“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.

“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.

A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.

“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.

“Much better,” he hums.

Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.

Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.

“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.

Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.

That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.

“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.

The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.

“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.

“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”

You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.

Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.

“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”

Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.

His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.

But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.

“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.

You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.

Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.

A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.

The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...

If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.

Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.

He looks completely at ease.

Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.

You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.

You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.

You have to end things with Scott.

And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.

You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?

But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.

A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.

“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.

You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.

When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.

“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.

He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.

“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.

You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?

You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.

What a great way to make a first impression.

You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.

Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.

“Come here.”

It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.

You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.

While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.

At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.

The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.

His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.

“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.

“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.

The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.

You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.

“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”

His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.

“Eddie, please,” you breathe.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”

Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.

Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.

Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.

“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”

Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”

Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.

“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.

You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”

His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.

This is something that would be his, and his alone.

His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.

The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.

“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”

Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.

“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.

“Fuck— come on, please.”

Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.

“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.

You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.

“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.

The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.

If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.

However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.

“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.

Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.

He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”

The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.

You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.

“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.

You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.

Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.

But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.

The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.

Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.

Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.

The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.

Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.

You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.

Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”

You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.

“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.

“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.

You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.

However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.

Scotty has got to go.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader

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werrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcat · 2 months

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Ты сам хотел скорее вырасти - и вуаля

#art #digital art #oc #original character #furry #дайте танк (!)#тревога в доме напротив #нямка знаменская #твдн #taitho #the alarm in the house opposite #russia #russian aesthetic #1990s #русский tumblr #русский блог

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loveharlow · 7 months

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LIVE BAIT

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem!Reader (one sided)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [4.1k] Left alone with Topper while Rafe is out, his best friend seems to take a shot at you...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, dark!rafe, gullible!reader, sexual coercion/manipulation, deception, cheating, yelling, manhandling, implied murder/attempted murder

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU SAT ON THE COUCH IN RAFE’S LIVING IN NOTHING BUT ONE OF HIS SHIRTS, WATCHING TV AS HE EMERGED FROM DOWN THE HALL. He had his phone and car keys in hand, the jingling of the metal causing your eyes to drift from the flashing of digital colors to him.

“Are you leaving?” You inquired, leaning your weight on one arm as you sat up on the couch slightly.

“Yeah, something came up but it won’t take long.” You frowned as you watched his frame edge closer to the front door of The Cameron Residence, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around to look at your half-dressed figure on the sofa. “Go put some pants on. Topper’s still coming by.”

You wanted to groan at his statement. “Can’t he hang out with Kelce? He always want to hang with you. Doesn't he have other friends?”

“He’s still upset about Sarah leaving him and he thinks she’ll pop up around the house. Look just, don’t say anything about her around him. Alright?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, mumbling something about Topper being annoying before turning away from him to face the TV once again, fully prepared to hear the slam of the front door signaling his absence. You never heard that confirmation, however. Instead, you were met with the feeling of Rafe’s calloused hand on your jaw just before you registered his quick footsteps, the man using his firm grip to tilt your head back where you were greeted with the sight of him staring you down.

“Drop the attitude. If I have to put up with you, you have to put up with him. So fix your damn face and be nice.” He told you sternly and in a hushed tone before releasing his grip and allowing your face to drop, the strain on your neck easing itself out. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way his words stung in the slightest of ways. You could hear his heavy steps following their path back to the front door, the alarm system chiming and hinges creaking as he opened the door. “And I’m serious, go put some pants on.” Was all he said before you heard the slam of the front door.

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE RAFE LEFT. You’d resistantly done as he said, going into his bedroom and finding a pair of shorts you’d left here and tugging them on, despite them being swallowed by his shirt anyway, barely able to tell you were wearing them.

You were on the sofa again, laying on your back as you scrolled through your phone when suddenly, you heard the lock on the front door being twisted, mechanisms clanking against each other and echoing out in the expanse of the room. Head twisting towards the noise, a stream of sunlight welcomed itself in as Topper walked into the home, carefully closing the door behind himself.

Turning around, he was visibly startled by your face peeking above the back of the couch. “Oh, hey.” He breathed out, realizing it was just you. “I forgot Rafe said you’d be here, too." He spoke absentmindedly. "Where is he, by the way?” He questioned, walking around to stand in front of your outstretched frame.

You politely slid your feet off of the length of the furniture, clearing a space for him to sit next to you. You were both on two opposite ends of the couch and you didn’t miss the way he eyed the length of your exposed legs, tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth.

“He had to do something, said he’d be back soon.” You responded back, mainly giving your attention to your phone as you leaned against the arm of the couch and tried not to look at him. It was mildly awkward in the space — seeing as you’d only ever really interacted with Topper when your boyfriend was around and now that it was just you two, there was a tension that clouded the room. Rafe always served as an icebreaker and he wasn't here to break the ice.

Topper hummed in response. Eventually, you turned off your phone, diverting your attention to the TV and that was when you noticed it — Topper’s eyes fleeting to you every couple of seconds in your peripheral. Your legs were curled up underneath you and his eyes roamed your figure, up and down with little shame. This went on for a couple minutes until he spoke up.

“When did you say Rafe would be back again?”

Your wide eyes drifted to the blonde on the far end of the couch, nervously going between him and the program that was playing low in the background. “Oh, um, I didn’t. But he should be back soon.”

Only then did you notice Rafe had been gone for a fair amount of time. But it wasn’t anything new. Knowing him he could be back within the next five minutes or five hours, not a care in the world that you were stuck in the house with his best friend who wouldn't stop staring at you. Was there something on on your shirt? Did he want to say something?

“You know, he might be helping his dad. I heard something happened to one of the construction sites. A roof collapsed or something.” He told you, sitting up straighter. “...That could take a while.”

“Oh.” You said apprehensively. “If that’s the case then yeah, he might be a while. I can go to his room so you can have this space to yourself-”

“No, no,” Topper interrupted, dragging himself closer to you across the couch, now only inches away. Your back ached as you pressed yourself against the armrest, his sudden close proximity startling you. “I don't mind. We can keep each other company.” He spoke lowly, eyes boring into yours. One of his hands came up to caress your thigh, his fingers gliding across the flesh as your heart thumped in your chest. You didn't feel comfortable with that.

“It’s just that, I’ve been having a really hard time getting my mind off of Sarah, y’know? I could use the company.”

“I heard about that…” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed. “The whole island has. She really embarrassed me and it’s just been hard trying to act like I’m okay.” His eyes were on your lips now, eyeing them as he spoke. “But I think you could help distract me…”

You suddenly felt uneasy but also somewhat bad for him. As much as she had the rights to, Sarah had embarrassed Topper to quite the extreme. Not only did she dump him, but she was now dating a pogue who demeaned him at every given chance. It was a rivalry, of course. So, you couldn’t imagine his anger.

“Distract you…how?” Was the first thing that rolled off your tongue, the hand that was kneading your thigh coming up to gently grab your wrist.

“You could start by solving the problem you’ve created,” He said enigmatically, dragging your limp palm to rest against the crotch of his pants where you could feel a prominent erection poking through the fabric. The action set off alarm bells in your mind, quickly tugging your hand away and pushing yourself further up the couch.

Shaking your head side to side, you spoke a mile a minute. “I think I gave you the wrong idea. I didn't- I don’t think Rafe would be okay with this-”

“He is.” Topper blurted, cheeks turning red.

“...He is?”

“He would be. I’m his best friend, right? You gotta trust me, I know him better than anyone. Plus, he would be proud of you for helping out his friend. I know he would.” The boy explained.

Topper wasn’t a fool but he knew that you could be. Not a fool necessarily...gullible would be a better phrase. To some people, you seemed bimbo-ish — a pretty face with not a clear thought behind your eyes. He always thought that was why it was so easy for Rafe to walk you the way he did. Rafe had you wrapped around his finger and there was no doubt that he loved you, though it may not always seem evident.

Topper had always thought you were desirable and secretly admired the way you absentmindedly submitted to Rafe without hesitation, he didn’t know whether it was out of fear or love, or both. All he knew was that look that you got in your eyes whenever Rafe was around, that pleading, doe-eyed look you sported in the presence of your boyfriend was something he’d wanted to see up close and personal for a long time now. You were a craving, a sexual fantasy that Topper could never have. Not until now, anyway.

And if he had to spew a couple little white lies to get you to spread your legs, then he was going to do whatever it took. And Rafe would never have to know. Because he wanted you more than he feared Rafe.

“You really think so?” You questioned the validity of Topper’s claims, the only thing on your mind was the reward you’d possibly receive for helping your boyfriend’s best friend feel just a little bit better in the face of heartbreak.

“I know so. In fact, Rafe...actually suggested it.”

That statement made your gut twist. You didn’t know why, but it just did. It didn't sound like something Rafe would do, but Topper said he knew Rafe better than anyone. You guessed that included you.

“Well, if it’s okay with him then…”

The blonde smiled at this, his hands moving your waist and prying your frame off of the edge of the couch, practically yanking you into his lap. His blue eyes running between your pupils and your lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between them. You yelped into the exchange, the frantic neediness of it all catching you off guard.

You maneuvered your legs into a more comfortable position, now straddling his lap as his boner pressed directly against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this — he was so much different from Rafe. You were used to the way Rafe loved you — the firmness in the way he kissed you, the small grunts he would let out in between each one, how he would eventually trail his kisses down the valley of your neck, the valley of your breasts, down your stomach.

Why didn’t he give Topper any kind of pointers when he suggested this? Probably because this is more for Topper than it is for you, you thought. This wasn’t for you at all, actually. You were a distraction. Or so you’d been told.

His tongue roamed the inside of your mouth, the warm muscle circling as it waited for your own to do the same. You tried to focus on pressing your lips against his with the same pressure, but you could never seem to catch whatever wavelength he was on. Eventually, he pulled back, his lips red, wet, and swollen.

Your eyes tried to catch his but they were laser focused on your collarbone that was peeking out above Rafe’s shirt. His hands balled into fists, balling up the fabric that you wore into them and pulling it over your head and dropping the garment to the floor, leaving the ‘v’ of your breast exposed to him. The bra you had on pushing them up, making them look plump. You didn’t miss how Topper bit his lip as one of his hands came up to fondle one of the rounds of flesh, his hips bucking up into you as he did so.

His hands circled your back, coming into contact with the clasp of your bra, ready to undo the item and let it fall until he seemingly decided against it, mumbling something about not wanting to make too much of a mess.

He was much more silent than Rafe. Rafe was not one to keep quiet during intimacy, always groaning, or swearing, and whispering something so dirty into your ear that you couldn’t help but moan out loud, arching into him.

The boy stood up with you on his lap, holding you up by your behind as to not drop you. With you in his arms, he turned as he stood up, gently laying you on the couch on your back. He wasted little time in dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs together, leaving you exposed and on display for him, a cool breeze passing between your legs.

“Shit…” Topper cursed under his breath as his eyes were glued to your dripping core. You were slightly confused when his hands immediately went to the button on his pants, undoing the closure and shoving the clothing down his legs, the fabric pooling around one of his ankles as he didn’t even bother to completely remove them.

He propped one leg up on the couch, the other planted on the floor as he pulled you closer by the hips. Using one of his hands, he guided the tip of his cock that was leaking with precum to your entrance. He teased himself before actually pushing it in, rubbing the head of it against the wetness that was dripping from you and onto the sofa, surely leaving a wet patch beneath you. Gliding it up and down, stopping to circle your clit before eventually pushing into you.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling a slight throb of pain as he stretched you out. You watched the boy carefully above you, one of his hands now outstretched as it gripped onto the armrest behind your head, eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered when his dick hit your cervix.

The intrusion didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel great either. You didn’t know if it was because this was a foreign thing or because he just wasn’t Rafe.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you like this…” He muttered, almost mindlessly, under his breath. Eyes clouded over with pleasure as he drew his hips back slowly, only to push back in at an equally slow pace.

The statement threw you, prompting you to question his real motives but Topper was a genuine person, right? And he wouldn’t lie to you for no reason, especially not for his own gain…

Right?

He told you that you were just helping him take his mind off of Sarah, that this wasn’t wrong. So, you were taking his word for it. More than his word, actually. Topper wasn’t just Rafe’s friend, he was yours too, wasn’t he?

Topper’s slow pace wasn’t something you were fond of, you quickly realized. Your orgasm not even beginning to build but you kept quiet. This was to help him, not you. He was breaking out into a light sweat despite his slow momentum, biting harshly into his lips concealing any noise he may have made, veins protruding from his biceps as his grip on the headrest grew deathly.

It wasn’t long before he came, not bothering to pull out as he did so, letting his seed fill you up, some of it hitting the inside of your thighs as he pulled out. When he seemed to have emptied himself out, he barely acknowledged you as he retreated away, standing fully from the furniture as he shuffled his pants back up his legs.

His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed, he didn’t even bother to clasp the button on his pants back together before he was making his way down the hall, presumably to the guest bathroom to get himself together.

You steadied your own breaths, labored from the unfamiliar experience rather than exhaustion or pleasure. Carefully, you sat up straight on the couch, shimmying your panties and shorts back onto both of your legs and dragging them back up to your waist, trying to ignore the way the fabric smeared his cum against your thighs. Topper’s secretion was still dripping out of you, making the fabric against your center uncomfortable — hot, sticky, and scratchy.

Fishing around on the floor, you retrieve Rafe’s shirt that had been abandoned in the beginning, slipping the loose fabric back over the length of your body.

Assuming Topper had gotten what he needed and your job here was done, you headed upstairs, prepared to shower in Rafe’s room.

You tried to ignore that feeling in your gut that had been bubbling since Topper put his hand on your thigh. You just couldn’t put your finger on why you felt so bad about doing a good thing.

BY THE TIME RAFE HAD RETURNED, TWO HOURS HAD PASSED. You’d cleaned yourself up, just throwing on another one of Rafe’s old graphic tees and a pair of sweatpants. When you’d returned downstairs after your shower, Topper was sitting comfortably on the piece of furniture as if nothing had happened. However, when you went to sit down, he’d tried to beckon you over to lay under his arm. You’d politely declined.

So, you both sat in silence once again. Topper put on a movie to watch while you went right back to scrolling on your phone, getting a text from Rafe about an hour into the movie that he was on his way back.

When he’d finally gotten back, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest, shooting your boyfriend a giddy smile as he shut the door behind him.

“Rafe!” You practically cheered, hopping off of the couch and skipping over to where he was kicking his shoes off at the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long…” He apologized mindlessly, eyes finally landing on you. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood.” He spoke, squinting his eyes with mild suspicion. His gaze drifted to Topper’s figure draped over the far end of the couch, jutting his head in his direction in greeting. “‘Sup, Top.”

“What’s good?” Topper replied nervously, not even able to maintain full eye contact with his friend. Rafe found it weird, making a face of confusion before ultimately letting it go. His eyes shifted back to where you stood in front of him, winding his arms around your waist, similar to how Topper had just hours ago.

Only Rafe’s touch was familiar — more comforting. The dirty blonde leaned down to press his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly for a few moments before pulling back as his eyes looked you up and down. His hands never left your waist as he walked you backwards towards the sofa. “Did you change?”

You glanced down at yourself, forgetting that you probably looked different than you did when he walked out of the door hours ago. You opened your mouth to reply honestly. You didn’t think what had gone down between you and Topper was some top-notch secret. After all, he said Rafe had suggested it. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to clean myself up after helping Topper out.”

Rafe’s face twisted at the statement. It’s not like it was an odd thing but he just had no idea what had happened while he was gone. “What happened?”

Now it was your face that was twisting, confused at his words. You opened your mouth to reply before Topper beat you to it, neck craned dangerously over the back of the couch as he spoke. “Oh, it was nothing, man. She was just being nice and getting me something to drink and spilled it on herself.”

Rafe seemed to take the answer at face value, not pressing any further as he guided you both to sit on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, hands letting go off you to rub at a dark spot on the fabric of the furniture that wasn’t there before he left.

“Did you spill whatever it was on the couch?” He questioned irritatedly, rubbing and scratching that patch that wouldn’t budge.

Neither you nor Topper responded as Rafe huffed, making his way towards the kitchen to retrieve something to try and scrub the stain out before Rose, the clean-freak she was, got on him about it. Standing over the sink however, he took notice of something — there were no glasses in the sink. In fact, the kitchen looked untouched from when it had been cleaned yesterday.

If you’d gotten Topper something to drink, where’d you pour it? Into the palm of his hands?

Rafe’s gaze rose to look at the blonde who was lounging on his couch and he’d looked up just in time to see his best friend’s gaze trail up the length of your frame hungrily.

The action made a thought appear in his mind, a crazy thought. Rafe wasn’t as naive as you, he saw the way his friends looked at you and heard the way they tried to speak to you when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t expect any of them to act on their whims unless they intended to lose their lives.

He hadn’t even noticed your presence beside him until he felt your fingers on the skin of his shoulder through his shirt, shifting his gaze towards you who was peering up at him.

“Are you okay?”

The man’s eyes narrowed at you in the slightest, moving so that your faces were inches apart and he spoke in a hushed tone.

“The fuck did you do?” He questioned, tone short and mean. The look in his eyes had you scared and confused.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not-”

“So, nothing happened while I was gone?”

Your next response wasn’t as quick, mouth opening for a few seconds, eye fleeting between the two blondes before you answered. “All I did was help Topper out because he was sad about Sarah. He said you’d be okay with it, that you’d suggested it even-”

“Suggested wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face was twisted, tone scolding as if he was upset with a child.

“I don’t know, he just started touching me and saying all this stuff-”

You were cut off when the irritated blonde grabbed you by the arms, slightly shaking you. “Tell me what happened.” He spoke menacingly. “All of it.”

You tripped over your words before you got them out, the blonde boy on the couch paying no attention to you and Rafe as you explained how he’d coerced you into sex only hours before Rafe came back. Rafe listened intently as you told him about his best friend came into his house, sat on his couch, and fucked his girlfriend. And he couldn’t believe that he was still breathing. Couldn’t believe that he sat, laid back on his couch like nothing had happened.

Topper was always telling Rafe how you were just a pretty face and had nothing going on up top. Rafe usually told him off, not allowing him to demean you. He’d never thought his words had any deeper meaning.

“...And I showered after. Rafe, I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s your problem.” He snapped under his breath, snatching himself away from you.

He knew you weren’t the brightest when it came to reading people. You weren’t an idiot or anything. You did well in school, you were academically gifted. But for some reason, when it came to socializing, you just weren’t there. You never caught on to sarcastic jokes, you didn’t know when people were flirting with you or using you. You were oblivious in that sense.

So when he looked back to see you with your head lowered, looking more shameful and upset than he’d ever seen you, he couldn’t help but sigh, using one hand to pull your head into his chest.

“I didn’t mean that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He felt your arms wind around his waist as your face buried into his shirt.

“I didn’t know. It felt wrong but he said you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-”

“Shh, stop. I know, I know,” He cooed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Hm?” He pulled back, looking into your tearful eyes as you nodded, releasing your hold on one another before you made your way up the staircase, sparing a solemn look to Rafe before you disappeared.

Rafe eyed Topper who looked like he was struggling to ignore Rafe’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He didn’t know if he’d heard any part of your conversation but he could tell that the boy looked tense.

“Yo, Top?” Rafe called, back now turned as he inspected the kitchenware, eyes landing on the knife block before pulling out the chef’s knife. The object was swinging at his side as he turned back to face his friend.

“Yeah?” He replied, letting his gaze find the man standing in the kitchen. Topper looked nervous, a bead of sweat on his hairline.

“I hope it was worth it.” He snapped at him. "'Cause I'm going to fucking kill you."

General taglist;@livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #angstober23'

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lingering-42-long · 1 year

Text

141 + extra when they get home from war

Y’all be too much lol. This is my third head cannon and the Mother’s Day one is still on the top of the likes list and I don’t know why like that one was my trash one and everything else I like put time and effort into. It’s like offering people a gourmet meal or Ramen noodles with chicken nuggets, lol I’m glad everybody does enjoy my Content though, and I hope that you all enjoy this one as well!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: PG-13, mentioning of sex, fluff, suggestion of angst

Captain John Prince

• when he gets home, he’s usually pretty tired.

• Don’t be alarmed if he just wants to sleep when he gets home.

• Usually you pick him up from the airport and he will load in his bags with a grunt and say that he could really use some good sleep.

• He smells like gun powder and dirt, even though he just took a shower.

• When he gets home, he will give you a kiss, then head off to bed no matter what time of day it is.

• He’s just that tired.

• When he wakes up the first thing he does is go back over to you and give you a proper kiss and a proper greeting.

• Make sure that you have some food for him. He’s going to be hungry, and he really needs some thing that’s more sustainable than MREs.

• He wants to hear about your life and what you’ve been up to while he’s been at work.

• Listening to you talk is one of his favorite past times and it helps him relax. Sitting in front of the couch while watching some TV show while you’re rambling on about the past months and about what you’ve been up to really brings a smile to his face.

• He likes to catch up on his reading.

• This man enjoys reading with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of bourbon.

• If you’ve picked out a new book for him to read, he will be gladly appreciate of of it.

• But most importantly, he would want you to be in his lap while he’s reading, but if you don’t like the smell of cigar smoke near your face, he will make sure not to smoke near you.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• Simon comes home as Ghost.

• The persona of a vengeful wraith and the shell of a once human is what your are graced with.

• He is very quiet, very solemn, and very cold.

• This is because he’s just dealing with his PTSD.

• He needs time to heal from recent encounters. This can take as little as one week to as long as three months.

• After badgering him enough times, to go see a therapist, he obliges.

• Though he’s pretty cranky about it.

• Give him space. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself, especially with the nightmares raging through his mind.

• His nightmares are so vivid that it can be hard to distinguish Friend or foe.

• This is due to the fact that he needs to be working or else those vile thoughts come hunting him.

• He will never tell you about what goes on while he’s away.

• Once Ghost disappears, Simon takes his place.

• The poor broken man is just tired, and he just wants to lay next to you and hear about your day or months.

• Once you become stable enough, he begins to be more active around the house instead of just brooding in the bedroom.

• He hast to keep himself busy at all times.

• No rest for the wicked.

• Hast to sleep with a lamp on.

• Even though he seems harsh around the outside, he loves you deeply, and that’s why he separates himself from you for a certain time.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Opposite of Ghost, Johnny is so excited to see you!

• As soon as he gets off the airplane, he runs over to you!

• This man is all over you before you even see him!

• He starts asking you 1 million questions about how your months have been and what’s been going on with his family and any news on the recent football (soccer) matches.

• You actually have to calm him down because he’s all over the place.

• When you get into the car, he is kissing you all over your face.

• This man has enough energy to run to the moon and back, and it shows.

• He’ll try to take you right there if only he wasn’t in a car confined by a seatbelt

• Johnny is quick to help around the house and do whatever task you need to do.

• He says he’s making up for lost time.

• If you’ve decorated the house in a new way, he will always compliment what you’ve done to it.

• Johnny wakes up early in the morning and practically begged you to join him on a hike.

• It could be down pouring for all he cares about but he really wants to be with you while he’s working out.

• He will bring you back a souvenir probably something stupid like a rock or a jar of sand.

• If he gets any scars, he shows you and starts pointing them out and tells you the story about each and everyone of them.

• He won’t go into great detail about how gruesome the battling was.

• He wants you to be in his life every step of the way, even if you’re at home.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Kyle is grinning from ear to ear when he sees you!

• He’s not as hyper as Johnny, nor is he a stoic as his captain.

• He has the perfect mix between excited and tired

• When you to get home, he says that you two should just order pizza and he’s dying to play a video game with you even if he’s a little tired.

• Kyle doesn’t go into a lot of detail about his work. He’ll just make an occasional gesture about what he saw what he did.

• Like soap, he’ll bring you back a souvenir.

• He actually takes time with his souvenir shopping though, and we’ll go to local markets installs to actually pick you out some thing that you might like.

• Happy to be with you and glad to be away from the fighting.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• When he comes home, his first instinct is to drop his bags by the door, and bring you into a warm and passionate kiss and hug.

• As much as he loves his job and all of his soldiers and team, some thing about being at home with you makes him feel truly loved.

• He may be tired, but he still going to serenade you like it’s his last day on earth.

• If you haven’t started making dinner yet, he will help and participate with whatever you’re doing. He may be tired, but he’s never tired for you.

• He loves watching you move around the house.

• He’s not going to deny it, but you wearing his clothes and cooking dinner with him really turns him on.

• After dinner, he may propose a night in bed to you.

• This man serenades you in sex especially after he’s been away for a long time

• Physical touch is his love language, and he loves being with you.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Like his commander, when he comes home, all he wants to do is drop his bags and immediately embrace you and a warm hug while rubbing your head and whispering how much he’s missed you.

• He also wants to help you cook dinner, or do some thing, but if you go, tell him to take a shower and to relax, he won’t deny that he needs it.

• Rudy loves reading a book with you so after dinner he will want to skip the washing dishes and ask if you would like to read with him before going to bed. No matter what time it is in the day. If he’s tired enough, he will once to at least read a little bit before falling asleep.

• Once he’s asleep, the bags underneath his eyes seem to disappear. He knows you’re close and he knows that you’re safe and that’s all that he could ever ask for to make him happy.

König

• As soon as he gets off the airplane and sees you amongst the crowd of people, his anxiety stops, and he immediately makes his way to you.

• He can’t sleep on an airplane, but as soon as he’s in the car, he’s about ready to doze off. You have to remind him not to though, because waking him up or trying to drag him out of the car is near impossible.

• He is really trying hard not to pass out in the car.

• Once he gets home, he stumbles into the kitchen looking for a nice tall glass of water to drink, and a sandwich or two to eat.

• Make sure that you keep the sandwiches stocked.

• This man will then make his way to the bedroom, take a cold shower, get into some warm PJs, and then slip into bed.

• Once he’s asleep, he will stay in his hybernation for roughly 3 days.

• He will only wake up to use the restroom, get a drink of water, or to eat some thing.

• When his mind is on the battlefield, he rarely puts himself into a sleep state, but when he’s at home, it’s like all of the hours that he missed, sleeping or suddenly compiled in a single week.

• Just let him rest, and sooner or later, he’ll wake up from his hibernation, and will seek you out so that he can give you kisses and hugs and ask how your time has been away from him.

Alex Keller

• When Alex gets back, like everybody on this list, he is tired.

• His leg is very sore from the prosthetic. Prosthetics are not comfortable and cause I’m serious leg and back pain.

• He will ask very nicely if you could massage his leg for him when he gets home.

• Once he’s in the car, Alex is taking off that damn prosthetic leg and rubbing his stump.

• You can tell he’s in a lot of pain just by the way, his eyes crease, and a frown forms.

• In order to get him off of the pain, you talk to him about his time.

• This usually makes him perk up since he enjoys talking to you about his adventures.

• His personality is like a mix between Johnny and Kyle, but leans more towards Kyle.

• When you get home you’ll have to help him walk because he really does not want to put on his prosthetic.

• You just leave the bag in the car to get later.

• When Alex gets into bed, it’s like a huge sigh of relief washes over him.

• You can see how red and agitated his amputated limb is.

• You do what you can to make him feel better by applying some numbing cream and giving him some pain relieving medicine.

• He always feels better once you start massaging his leg and even more so if you give them a back rub.

• This man is a simple man and enjoys a simple massage after months of no rest.

Philip Graves

• Like a soldier from World War II coming home to meet his best girl.

• He always surprises you when he comes home and has one of his shadow men drive him to the house.

• He always buys you a huge bouquet of flowers and some pretty jewelry as well.

• When he walks through the door, he asks where his baby girl is.

• And of course you come running and giving him a huge hug and crying, which he immediately envelops you into a hug.

• He’s whispering in your ear with that southern drawl about how much she misses you.

• He gets a little into himself when he’s talking about how his mission is or how he was able to handle such a dangerous and daunting task.

• As egotistical, as this may seem, it is his way of expressing his love for you in a slightly weird way.

• In the evening, he’ll probably swoop you up into a dance, with both of you, smiling and laughing.

• He tells you how much he misses you and how much he loves you.

• In bed, he shows you how much he means both of those things.

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

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No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Four - Taken

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.7K words

Series Masterlist

Lando Norris did exactly what he said he was going to do. Now that there were no threats held over them, he flew to the Netherlands. Only two of his men were with him as he used his private jet to pick up his sister.

His knee bounced as the jet landed in the Verstappen hangar. Lando had called ahead, told Verstappen what was going on. Verstappen was more than happy to oblige. (Verstappen was a very cold and calculating man. He didn't much care that Y/N was in his house and left Max to deal with her. She was more a bother than anything else to him and he was more than happy to get rid of her).

Max wasn't happy with Y/N leaving the Verstappen stronghold. In her he'd developed a friendship, and she had been something of a perfect (platonic) companion. Happy to spend time with him while he did his thing and she did her own thing.

They watched movies together, just happy to spend time around each other. It made the time that Carlos was away pass quickly and distracted her from missing him terribly.

But she did still miss him terribly.

Max stood beside Y/N, several of his fathers men surrounding them as Lando's jet touched down in front of them. "I'm gonna try and get into contact with Carlos, tell him where you've gone," He called over the sound of Lando's jet.

"Just don't make him worried!" Y/N called, Lando walking off of the jet. "I don't want him panicking while he's busy!"

Max nodded his head as Lando strode over, round sunglasses covering his eyes. "Let's go," he said the moment he reached his sister, grasping a hold of her arm. Behind his sunglasses his eyes glanced down, looking towards the bump that wasn't there yet.

But she didn't let him pull her away. Y/N stepped away from her brother and launched herself at Max, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Lando gave Max a nod and grabbed a hold of his sister once again. He gently pulled her away, pulling her back towards the jet. This time she went with him, walking up the steps and climbing into the jet.

Before she knew it, they were in the air, leaving the Netherlands and getting further away from the country she now called home.

***

For twelve weeks Carlos was stuck in Spain, missing his pretty little wife. He had no pictures of her, nothing to remind him of her. In those twelve weeks, Carlos had never felt so lonely.

Was this how she felt during the start of their marriage? Regret filled him when he thought about it.

He wanted her home. Now.

But he couldn't. Carlos couldn't have her home until he knew the house was completely safe.

The first thing finished was the door, the one that needed a retina scan to get in. It was incredibly expensive, but Carlos would spend all of the money in the world to keep Y/N safe.

New cameras, new gates and new alarm systems had been installed. Carlos got rid of his at home golf course, filling in the holes and flattening out the banks.

Instead of the golf course, he had a play area installed. A little slide, a sand box, swings, and more. Carlos was also having a small slide installed in the pool. He was going to give their little one everything.

As the walls were built around the house, Carlos emptied out his room opposite his own. Well, it wasn't his room anymore. It was theirs, his and Y/N's. Anyway, he emptied out the room opposite, which was once a guest bedroom, and painted the walls.

Pink or blue were the colours he spent way too long debating over. But he didn't go with either colour, instead painting the walls a nice, olive green.

It was just the base. What Carlos wanted more than anything for their baby's bedroom was a mural of animals. A collection of jungle animals in trees, painted on the walls, or badgers and foxes prancing around in sweaters (but Carlos was leaning more towards the jungle animals).

His laptop was full of open tabs of baby things. A crib, a mobile to hang above the bed, a wardrobe (one pink and princess themed, one cream, ready for the couple to decorate it). He'd picked out giraffe rug to go with the potential jungle mural, and a collection of books, some in English and some in Spanish.

Carlos hated that he was doing it without Y/N, but it made him miss her just a little bit less, getting the room ready for baby Valentina or baby Oscar.

He ordered the crib, but everything else he'd do with Y/N. As Carlos sat on the floor of the baby's room, he smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to have the two of them home.

***

Oscar stepped out of the car, looking at the familiar house. It was fortified now, with high walls and two gates before you got to the main house. But it wasn't quite finished yet, the Spanish mansion looking like a construction site.

On Carlos's command, Oscar had been allowed through. Carlos opened the door, allowing him in, and Oscar ran up to the office.

But Carlos wasn't in the office. He was opposite and over one, in the room that was for the baby.

Oscar gently knocked on the door before allowing himself in. The door had been painted cream, a different colour to the rest of the doors in the house, with a space left for a name.

"Hey," said Oscar as he looked down at Carlos, constructing the crib. "Where did you send her?"

Carlos placed the piece of crib he was constructing to one side and let out a sigh. "I sent her to the Verstappens," he said and leaned back on his palms. "I sent her somewhere she would be safe, and Norris decided he wanted to bring her back to England."

Oscar glared at the floor. "Well, at least she's with family now," he said, trying to justify it as he leaned against the wall.

"Just one more week and I will bring her home," Carlos said and looked up at Oscar.

Oscar pulled off his suit jacket and got to work. He helped Carlos set up the crib and hung the mobile above it. The two of them worked together to put together the book case. "I was going to wait for Y/N to do all of this," said Carlos as they screwed the bookshelf into the wall, preventing it from ever toppling over.

"Sorry," Oscar said somewhat sheepishly as he pulled his suit jacket back over his shoulders. "But this was fun. Have you guys thought of names?"

Carlos only smirked.

***

The Norris house wasn't well fortified. It wasn't fortified at all. But Lando didn't have anybody he loved and wanted to protect, so he didn't do anything to make the house more secure.

There were a few extra cameras and a few alarms on the doors. But that was it.

And then Lando brought Y/N home. He brought his sister back to her house, a place she hadn't been to since their fathers funeral. So much had changed since then. She was carrying a child now, actually in love with the man she had been forced to marry.

Even though the Norris house wasn't well fortified, Y/N couldn't stop herself from feeling safe. This was her childhood home, where she had grown up.

Once again, just as they had at the start of this story, Y/N and Lando sat in the library, playing a game of chess. She was winning, as she always did.

Normality was nice. But, as nice as it was, Y/N missed her husband.

"Your chess game has gone down hill," said Lando as she took his queen. Yes she was winning, but it had taken a lot longer than Lando expected.

Y/N looked at her brother through her lashes. She hadn't played chess for the entire time that they had been in the safehouse. She knew she'd lost her touch, but she was still winning. Her time in this house was going to be spent playing chess.

Lando tried to spend as much time with her as he could. Who knew when Carlos was going to come and get her, to take his sister away from him again?

Y/N had been in the Norris house for four weeks before she started showing. Just a small bump, she didn't need to start wearing stretchy clothing just yet.

"Have you thought of names?" Asked Lando as they ate breakfast together after four weeks of living together again.

Y/N swallowed her breakfast. "Briefly, yeah. We talked about it just before he flew back to Spain," she said, leaning her head against her hand.

"If it's a boy would you name it after dad?"

Y/N looked at her brother. She hadn't even considered naming the child after her father. Guilt settled in her stomach as she realised she considered Oscar as the namesake before she thought about her father. But no, she wanted to name the baby after Oscar and that she was going to do (if it was a boy).

Time worked in a funny way. She had spent ten weeks back in her childhood home, twelve weeks in total away from her husband. Y/N didn't know it, but this was the day he was coming back to her, returning her to the home he had now made safe for them.

But she'd never find that out.

Like I said, the Norris house wasn't well fortified. Lando had only been targeted once and that was it, he didn't think he needed to fortify it more. Maybe it was his age, or his lack of experience as a head of family.

They broke into the house in the early hours of the morning. Those that had been on watch were tired after hours protecting the house.

It was easy for them to climb in through Y/N's bedroom window, knock her out before she knew what had happened, and take her away.

Taglist (CLOSED): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey @watermelonworries @celesteblack08 @shobaes @chonkybonky

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sweetfushi · 1 day

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the little habits of kento nanami are what heighten your domestic experience with him. you’ve gotten used to the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee in the early morning, at 7am sharp every day. despite your alarm being set for a little later, for around 7:30am, the aroma tugs you out of your sleep with no complaints from you.

and when you shower, you can smell his aftershave and body wash - nothing too scented, but enough strength to scream masculinity. you’re grateful that nanami works so hard to provide you with everything you could possibly want, from bags to food to a big house. you mentally recite this thanks to him every time you step into your walk in closet, the right side yours and the left his.

nanami has a habit of investing in a new cologne every three months, not because he becomes disinterested with his previous but because he likes to have a routine for everything; consistency. he’s adopted your habit of matching his perfume to his outfit and ever since, lets you pick out the most suitable pairing.

when you finally head downstairs, you find him seated at the dining table, book in hand, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his coffee steaming in his black mug - the one you gifted him that says “no overtime, my wife misses me”. he smiles softly when he sees you, placing his book on the table and motioning to you.

nanami has a habit of resting his face on your stomach when you hug him as he’s seated, a deep sigh escaping him. “ ‘morning, kento,” you smile sleepily, running a hand through his hair. “good morning, sweetheart.” he kisses your lower abdomen and rests a hand on the back of your upper thigh, gazing into each others eyes for a moment before you shy away and sit opposite him.

nanami has a habit of maintaining tidiness. his shoes are next to yours by the door, his shirts - neatly pressed - up in the side of his closet dedicated to his daily outfit. he has a pair of pyjamas that match yours, a black satin set with roses embroidered on the chest pocket. he loves letting you do your skincare on him, sitting on his chest and pushing his hair back with your bunny headband. his hands rest on your hips as you apply various creams, serums and face masks. at some point, he falls asleep under you, chest rising and falling with his soft breaths.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

#nanami #kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk fluff #jjk nanami #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami x y/n

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reysdriver · 8 months

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Back To School | R.L.

Remus is about to leave to teach at Hogwarts — husband!remus x wife!reader angst/fluff

warnings: it's angst but it's fluffy really

words: 0.5k

a/n: I was gonna finish this and post it way back at the beginning of the month, but then I ended up writing a whole bunch of other stuff so I forgot about this lol

You and your husband had awoken to the early-morning alarm ringing around your bedroom, but Remus shut it off quickly so you could get an extra few minutes in bed together.

After you decided you had to get up or else Remus would be late, you got up, got ready, and started making a simple breakfast together. You sliced fruit while Remus made toast for you both, then you sat down opposite each other at your table and ate, making small bits of conversation throughout.

When you finished, you told Remus to leave your plates at the table—you would do a whole load of dishes to distract yourself later—and you both went to collect all of Remus’ things.

Since he got the job at the beginning of summer, you had been giving him all sorts of little gifts, things he would need for work, and some little mementos to remember each other and stay sane while you were apart for so long.

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” You were sure Remus packed everything he’d need for the next three months away in his bags, but you were just stalling so you didn’t have to part ways with him yet.

“What would I have forgotten, dove?”

You answered him quietly. “Me.”

Your husband fought back a smile, not wanting to seem too happy when you were sad. “I could never forget you, my sweet girl; I just can’t pack you in my suitcase and bring you with me, now can I?”

“We haven’t tried yet…” You said, a half-faux pout on your face.

The both of you imagined the sight of Remus trying to sneak you into Hogwarts via his luggage. It brought a smile to your face that you didn’t want to be there in this solemn moment.

“I’d have to choose between you and my clothes, dove. And as tough of a decision as that is, I can’t go to work naked; I’d be fired before classes could even start.”

“That means you would have to come home, right?” You asked it in a way that told him exactly what you were thinking, and he had to shut it down.

“I would come home, but then we would have no money and would have to live in a shack made of hay somewhere because we wouldn’t be able to afford a whole house with just you working.”

Remus pulled you into a hug, cocooning you in his long arms and his comforting chest. You both stayed in that embrace, breathing slow and deep together to level your emotions. It was nice, just not nice enough knowing that this was the last time you’d be in your flat together until the winter holidays.

Remus started loosening his grip on your body, which earned him an upset look from you.

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t go soon. We won’t be able to say goodbye again at the train station if we’re rushing.” He explained nicely.

You sighed, knowing he was right. “Okay, but you have to promise me at least one good hug at the station.”

“As long as I have time to spare, I’ll give it all to you.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders angst #marauders fluff

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wanders-in-wonderland · 9 months

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Taken: Refusal

It’s past 8pm and you’re walking to your car, one of the last people in the office to leave again. He smiles darkly as he hears the click of your heels against the asphalt, coming towards him. He’s leaning against the wall, covered by the shadow of the parking garage, waiting for you. Your attention is on your purse as you dig through it, looking for your keys. You don’t stand a chance when he surges out of his hiding spot towards you. He grabs you by the throat and pulls your back against his front and shoves a syringe into your arm with his free hand. You’re out cold before you even have time to react.

He catches your body easily, carrying you to your car. He slides your prone body into the trunk, closes the lid, gets into the front seat, and drives away.

Thirty minutes later, he pulls into the garage of a house at the edge of town, miles away from anything and anyone else. He pulls you out of the trunk and carries you into the house, down the stairs, into the basement. There, he gets to work.

The basement room is well-lit and set up almost like a bedroom. A beautiful king-sized bed sits in the middle of the room with a dark wooden dresser against the wall, and a second door leading to a well-decorated bathroom. The only thing out of place is the large St. Andrew’s cross opposite the bed. He hums slightly as he works, feeling giddy with excitement at finally having you here. He‘s not in a rush, he’d injected you with enough sedative to keep you unconscious for several hours, giving him plenty of time to do what he needs to.

The first thing he does is cut away your clothes. He takes care not to accidentally nick you with the knife and smooths his hands across your body gently, almost reverently. He sighs a little, you aren’t going to be happy when you wake up, but soon, he’ll show you how good it is here. And you’ll be so happy with him.

He ties your naked body to the cross, your arms and legs spread eagle and affixed to the wood with rope. He wraps an extra piece of rope around your waist to keep you in place so you won’t be able to move when you wake up.

He runs his fingers up your thigh, watching as goosebumps erupt in his wake. Your skin is so soft. His fingers keep going upwards, going to between your legs as he parts your folds with his fingers. He slides his finger over your clit, rubbing gently at first, then with more pressure. Your breathing hitches and your body twitches slightly as the pleasure permeates into your unconscious mind. He smiles, rubbing faster and harder against your clit. He slides a second finger against your slit, feeling the moisture starting to gather. You’re so responsive and you’re not even awake yet. He pulls his fingers away, not wanting to have too much fun quite yet. You make a small, simpering noise, almost like you want him to keep going.

He steps away for a second, grabbing a ball gag from his pile of toys. He pulls your hair back gently, opens your mouth, and clips the gag into place. You look so pretty, all tied up and gagged. He grabs a small remote-controlled bullet vibrator next, along with a harness fitted specially for it. He slides the vibrator against you, positioning it directly on your hard little clit and latches the harness around you, keeping the vibrator flush against you. He clicks the remote, and watches as the vibrator starts to buzz at its lowest setting against your clit.

Your body reacts immediately. Your cheeks flush, your breathing deepens, and your legs start to tremble. He runs his fingers against your slit, finding you dripping wet and your pretty pussy clenching. He collects some of your slick on his fingers and brings it to his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy. He takes a few steps back, sitting down on the bed as he waits.

—

You slowly come into consciousness, feeling your body clench as something is pressed up against your pussy. Something that feels so good. But before you can fully appreciate it, alarm bells are going off in your head. What happened? Where are you? The last thing you remember was going to your car, and then…

You start, remembering the man, being grabbed, the sting of the syringe. Your eyes fly open and you take in several things at once. You’re naked, you’re tied to a cross, you’re gagged, and you’re so close to cumming.

You wail into the gag but the sound is muffled and desperate. Your eyes dart around the room, blinking against the light.

“Welcome back, darling.”

Your eyes shoot to the man. You don’t understand. But before you can think, you see the man click a remote and the vibrating on your clit intensifies. Suddenly all you can think of is the pleasure that’s shooting through your body. You arch your back as much as you can and you scream into the gag as you cum hard. You shake in the ropes slightly as you come down from your high, trembling as the aftershocks hit you and the vibrator is still going strong. Your hips thrust, trying to dislodge the vibrator that’s slowly pushing you towards overstimulation. You wail desperately against the gag. He smiles as he clicks the remote one more time and the vibrations stop.

You’re breathing heavily as you hang from the cross, your body going slack. You whimper into the gag softly.

“That went even better than I’d planned,” he said, clearly proud of himself. He’s deranged, you think to yourself. What the fuck is happening?

“Here I was thinking you’d get nicely started with that bullet vibrator, I didn’t think you’d cum like that right when you woke up. You, my dear, are deliciously responsive.”

He walked towards you, brushing his fingers against your cheek. You shook him off, moving your head has much as you could.

“Tsk tsk don’t be like that.”

“LET ME GO!” You screamed through the gag. It sounded more like “EE ME OO.” But he seemed to get the point.

“Now now let me talk first. You’ll want to hear me out. I know exactly who you are and what I’m doing. I took you and I am keeping you and the sooner you accept that, the better it will all be.” You shake your head in confusion.

“You see, I know your type, the pretty girl with not much in your life. You have a mediocre job, very few friends, no boyfriend, hardly any family. No one will miss you. No one will look for you.” As he speaks, his fingers begin to trail up and down your torso. He circles your breasts, gently rubbing your stomach before coming to a stop right above your pelvis.

Real fear strikes you in that moment. He’s right. No one would come for you. You don’t even know if anyone would file a missing person’s report. Maybe your boss when you don’t show up for work but realistically, they’d just hire someone else to replace you in a few weeks. You’re shaking as you stare back at him.

“Now, lucky for you, I think you’re perfect for me. Exactly what I’m looking for in a pretty little pet. All it’s gonna take is a little training.”

Your eyes widen and you scream objections into the gag. He looks annoyed now, and the hand that was rubbing gentle circles against your hip suddenly tightened into a bruising grip. He came in close, close enough for you to see the flecks of color in his eyes.

“You were doing so well, don’t make me punish you already.”

You scream even more, wailing, hoping that maybe someone will hear you and come to help. His bruising grip on your hip loosens for a second and suddenly, he slaps you across the face.

You start in pain but mostly in shock and fear. The slap scared you more than it hurt you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you stared back at him desperately.

“Now are you going to be a good girl?” His voice was low and dark, underpined with something that you couldn’t decipher.

You shake your head, fear overriding your sense of self-preservation as you buck and thrash on the cross as if it’ll help you get free.

“Fine, if you won’t be good, I’ll show you what happens to bad girls.”

You struggle harder, desperately trying to get free. He leaves your line of sight and eventually, you tire and start to sag in your ropes. You hear a click, and suddenly, the vibrator against your clit, the one you’d all but forgotten about in your fear, roars to life. It vibrates furiously against your clit, at an intensity so much higher than before and you feel your pussy clench as you screams at the stimulation. Your previous orgasm seemed so long ago but the violent stimulation quickly overwhelms you.

You whine and shake as you feel yourself rushing to another orgasm.

“Aw honey are you going to cum again? You filthy little whore cumming for your kidnapper while you’re tied up.”

You feel your orgasm coming, the feeling cresting inside of you, when suddenly, the vibrator clicks off.

“No, cumming is for good girls and you were bad.”

You moan into the gag, staring at him with tears in your eyes. Your hips gyrate, trying to find the stimulation to push yourself over the edge but your orgasm is fading quickly.

“You don’t deserve to cum. No, you deserve to be punished.” The dark promise in his voice made your heart pound with fear, but your pussy clenched in response.

He walked up to your body, looking down at your puffy little clit, straining against the vibrator attached to you. He ran his fingers gently over your button, chuckling as you bucked and groaned.

“You’re soaking wet. The perfect little whore for me.” He growled into your ear and kissed the side of your neck softly before sinking his teeth in, feeling you flinch and grow taut as he gently lapped at the sting he’d inflicted. His fingers danced along your slit, running around your lips and clit but never entering you, despite how badly you wanted him to.

“I think this bad little girl needs to think about her mistakes.” He says and he pulls away. He walks a few steps away and you wail against the gag.

“NO PLEASE, DON’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!” It comes out garbled but he seems to understand. “You need to learn your lesson, darling.”

He smiles then he leaves. You lean against the cross, feeling drained and defeated but all of a sudden, the vibrator comes to life again. You shriek and thrash, feeling the pleasure in your clit spread as you rush toward an orgasm. But like before, right as you were about to cum, the vibrator stops. You scream desperately, moaning, begging incoherently behind the gag. As the orgasm ebbs away, the vibrator starts again.

#kidnap fantasy #somno fantasy #overstim kink #dark fantasy #nsft concept #rap3 fantasy #edging kink #mind break

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