#Doctor Bellows

[axelsnotasimp]

THERE IS NOW AN UNOFFICIAL WE HAPPY FEW DISCORD SERVER!!!

(Made by Me)

Feel Free to join. just as long as you take your joy :>

https://discord.com/invite/wKTtXWtN

#we happy few #joy doctor #ollie starkey #arthur hastings #sally boyle #foggy jack #nick lightbearer #uncle jack #roger bacon #they came from bellow #lightbearer dlc #we all fall down

[zonzolik]

Doctor Who: The Beast Below - random thoughts, let's goo

Is that... a flying city? Sure, why not.

Why do the children have a robot teacher?

What do you mean he can't ride the elevator with the others? That's not fair.

The kid was killed because he failed a test?! What is this madness? (Say I, in the first three minutes of the episode)

So, it's not just a city, it's a whole country!

The Doctor is an ADHD icon and I'm so here for it

These mysterious calling people don't seem very nice. It's all sus.

They shouldn't have separated. I appreciate her brave dumbassness.

Oh, they aren't actually evil, they're just scared.

IT'S A TONGUE??? Those are big ass teeth.

There's a lot of screaming in this ep.

Can't stop thinking about the fact that Amy is in her nightie the whole meaning she probably doesn't even have underwear. And she landed in so disgusting things. Hope won't get some infection.

The sexy red cape girl is the queen? Oh, that's fantastic! "Basically, I rule" such an icon.

Oh, my. Amy's really clever.

All the pain and misery, but it just made them kind... It needs some great strength to be able to do that.

WINSTON CHURCHILL AND THE DALEKS

The star whale is so beautiful 😍

#doctor who #the beast bellow #11th doctor #amy pond #matt smith #thoughts no one asked for

[trek-tracks]

I just finished J.M. Dillard's The Lost Years (what happens between the end of the five-year mission and The Motion picture to split up Kirk, Spock, and McCoy) and it ripped my heart into pieces, stomped on them, and set it all on fire.

I highly recommend it.

#star trek #star trek tos #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #spock #star trek books #star trek novels #trek books #trek novels #the lost years #jm dillard #for a book where every one of them has at least one love interest it couldn't really be more of a breakup novel if it tried #i guess my description is kind of ironic given some of the things the villain does #spoilers in tags if you keep reading #bones gets himself accidentally kidnapped yet again #kirk gives up his best chance of getting to captain the enterprise again to go find him #spock heads to kolinahr because he let his emotions for kirk and bones get in the way of protecting them #bones has to go doctor harder than ever to make up for his grief at still being alive #the scene where bones is full-on bellowing at Nogura to let kirk stay a captain for his well-being #even kevin riley shows up #it was all chef's kiss #i wish bones had been a bit less of just a damsel in distress in this one #but it does show how he's really at the end of his rope at this point #spock too #i need something happier now thanks

[day0walker]

#doctor nick #sorry i just want this in his tag lmaooooo #like looking at him turns me into a tiny little toad that bellows into the night

[multifandomfanatic02]

"Stuck in a Trap."

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k

It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.

The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.

No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.

You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.

After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.

Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.

Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.

His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.

Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.

What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.

A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.

If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.

Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.

More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.

If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.

It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.

He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.

More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.

What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?

Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.

"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."

a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor hazbin #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin x you #alastor x you #alastor fluff #alastor #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel au #deer alastor #human alastor

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story #writing #my beloved #fun fact I'm the same way on roller coasters #I just scream a terrified narration and my beloved thinks its the funnies thing

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Their Pregnant Partner Featuring

Kita, Suna and Akaashi

Kita Shinsuke x Pregnant Reader; Suna Rintaro x Pregnant Reader; Akaashi Keiji x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: fluff

AN: and again : D

Kita

The beautiful sight of his fields at sunset were nothing compared to your gorgeous, full figure walking towards him with a basket full of food. He stopped his work, gathering up his equipment before making his way to you at the edge of the field.

“I thought you were suppose to be resting dear,” he asked you, smirk across his face as you scowled back at him.

“Well, you’ve barred me from field work so I guess the only thing I can do now is make you food and laze about the house, which I might add, is boring!”

Kita knew you’d have a hard time with the end of your pregnancy and with getting the required rest the doctor had ordered for you. At first, he tried everything to get you to just take one nap a day to rest and relax. Eventually he gave up on his quest and let nature take its course. Now that you were 8 months, your body essentially forced you to take a break which you absolutely hated.

“Why don’t you work on your knitting? You always complain you never had time for that when you worked the rice fields with me,” Kita suggested as you sighed.

“Well now that I have time I don’t want to do that, I want to work!”

You’re pout drove Kita insane but he knew there was little he could do to help you at this point. You absolutely were not allowed to help him in the fields but maybe there was something else you could do.

“Hey what about helping with packaging? You know that’s something you can sit and do,” he declared, waiting your response.

“I guess,” you groaned, admitting defeat, “I guess it’s better than nothing.”

Kita smiled, kissing your forehead and you both sat down to enjoy your food.

Suna

Suna couldn’t help but laugh at the sight before him. There you were, on the floor covered in paint as you tried to maneuver the piece of baby furniture you were painting.

“Hey Rin!” You spoke, face and hands completely covered in green paint as you continued to happily paint ground edges with great detail.

Suna wasn’t sure how you managed to be so careful with painting the dress or yet so messy with yourself

“Babe, I told you I’d help you tonight when I got home from practice,” Suna laughed, coming over to you to help you get off the floor in your extremely pregnant state.

He held out his hands as you gripped them, pulling yourself up and into his arms. You giggled as your painted body touched his and his EJP hoodie, making the colors now yellow, black, white and green.

“Good thing I got like 50 more of these in my closet,” he joked as you smiled

“You mean in my closet, I borrowed at least 10.”

Suna just chuckled, thinking how lucky he was to have such an amazing and wonderful partner.

Akaashi

“You’ve been working on that article all night babe, don’t you think it’s time you take a break?” You interrupted, bringing in a cup of tea and some late night snacks for your husband who had been working all day.

“It’s not an article love, it’s a letter your baby,” Akaashi answered as you stopped, eyes shifting to him as you set the tea down.

“A letter to the baby? May I ask what it’s about?”

Akaashi shrugged, “well it’s kind of about how you and I met and how our lives were before baby.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at your husbands thoughtful gesture. Akaashi noticed the tears, getting up and hugging you tightly as you sobbed in his arms.

“T-that’s got-got to be the cu-cutest thing I’ve e-ever heard Keiji,” you bellowed as Keiji just chuckled, consoling you, one hand on your back and one on your belly.

#tw: pregnancy #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x you #Kita shinsuke x pregnant reader #Suna Rintaro #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #Suna Rintaro x pregnant reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi keiji x pregnant reader #pregnant reader #haikyuu time skip

[msgexymunson]

One Slow Blink Part 1

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give? 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 2

Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down. 

You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face. 

He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand. 

There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?

A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.

Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face. 

A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be. 

A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood. 

“Is he why-” 

“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!” 

“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-” 

“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly. 

Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.

“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-” 

Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing. 

“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!” 

“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?” 

Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances. 

“Alright, you better come with me.”

He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into. 

The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently. 

“He's through here.” 

You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life. 

“What… is that?” 

“That is Eddie.” 

There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it. 

Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.

“You said this is- this is Eddie??” 

“Listen, I know it's insane-” 

You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes. 

“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-” 

“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”

Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings. 

“Eddie.” 

You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle. 

“Eddie, I'm here to help you.” 

Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you. 

You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you. 

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!” 

The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy. 

Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm. 

“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?” 

A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes. 

“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?” 

His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now. 

“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?” 

He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens. 

“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?” 

He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again. 

“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.” 

Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands. 

“That was- how did you do that?” 

Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle. 

“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.” 

A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm. 

“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?” 

One slow blink. 

“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.” 

Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body. 

“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?” 

Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches. 

“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.” 

You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed. 

“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.” 

Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion. 

Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off. 

Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room. 

“I think he passed out.” 

“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.” 

“What do you mean you suppose?” 

“Steve!” 

“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.” 

He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint. 

“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.” 

Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts. 

“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-” 

“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to. 

“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.” 

As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.

“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.” 

You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.

“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?” 

“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.” 

“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.” 

“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.” 

“I got it.” 

Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket. 

“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?” 

“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.” 

He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly. 

********************

You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness. 

You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved. 

With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep. 

Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip. 

Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it. 

Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package. 

The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view. 

You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out. 

He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything. 

By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen. 

“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?” 

“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up. 

“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-” 

“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.” 

Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently. 

“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?” 

“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.” 

Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else. 

“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.” 

“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down. 

“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.” 

You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye. 

“Eddie, how you feeling?” 

He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm. 

“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?” 

He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft. 

You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours. 

When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly. 

“You want some water?” 

He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face. 

“Oh you remember that?”

Another slow blink. 

“Good. Let me get you some water.” 

You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass. 

“Hey Munson, still alive then?” 

Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it. 

“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.” 

A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it. 

“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?” 

He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist. 

When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.

A word emerges. 

“...Thank.” 

It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word. 

“Eddie, you can talk?” 

Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw. 

“...harrrd.” 

He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.

“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?” 

He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm. 

“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?” 

He blinks once. 

“OK, does it hurt a lot?” 

Two slow blinks.  

Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them. 

“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.” 

Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes. 

“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.” 

He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress. 

He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently. 

“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.” 

He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes. 

“Yes, tail. Look.” 

His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing. 

“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall. 

“Woah, easy there, big guy.” 

You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway. 

“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.” 

He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you. 

“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.” 

Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded. 

“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.” 

Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath. 

“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.” 

You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him. 

You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.

“Eddie, what's wrong?” 

Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word. 

“Hurrrt.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?” 

Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes. 

“Eddie, I can't help if-” 

He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself. 

His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur. 

Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks. 

“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?” 

He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.

“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?” 

It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws. 

“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.

You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right? 

“D-do you want me to help?” 

His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you. 

Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch. 

You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.

You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again. 

A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding. 

A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don't mention it.” 

He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses. 

“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.” 

You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes. 

What in the absolute fuck was that? 

You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear. 

Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open. 

“You OK? Can I help?” 

“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”

“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?” 

“That would be great, thanks.” 

She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough. 

“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.” 

He snaps his head towards you, whining. 

“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.” 

He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name. 

********************

You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that. 

With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him. 

It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed. 

Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone. 

As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open. 

“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.” 

Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming. 

“What the hell happened?” 

Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm. 

“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.” 

“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?” 

“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.” 

A crash next door makes you all jump. 

“Are you gonna-” 

“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.” 

As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’

“Eddie.” 

It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft. 

Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes. 

The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go. 

“Eddie what the hell happened?” 

Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides. 

“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.” 

His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else. 

“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!” 

You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief. 

“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!” 

He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them. 

“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!” 

Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens. 

“AARRROOOOOOO!” 

It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound. 

“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls. 

“Are you OK, I heard- oh.” 

Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy. 

“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-” 

He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained. 

“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.” 

You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running. 

“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?” 

The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet. 

“-Orry.” 

“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”

Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret. 

“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door. 

“But we- what if he-” 

“Steve!” 

“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.” 

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder. 

“We'll check on you tomorrow!”

“OK!” 

The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so. 

“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.” 

A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet. 

“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something…  is there a toolbox or…” 

Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file. 

“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.” 

He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady. 

You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad. 

“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.” 

A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything. 

“I brought some beers, you want one?” 

He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation. 

“See? That's great! You just need practice.” 

“Prrractice.” 

“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.” 

You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you. 

“What is it?” 

Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form. 

“-rreak.”

“Sorry, what?” 

“F-rreak.” 

“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”

He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern. 

“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”

Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out. 

“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.” 

You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed. 

When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him. 

“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?” 

He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket. 

Eddie appears in the doorway. 

“No.” 

“Huh?” 

You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom. 

“You, herrre.” 

He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up. 

“Wait!” 

As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence. 

“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-” 

Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently. 

“Herrre?” 

“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.” 

Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air. 

Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee. 

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“-Night.” 

********************

When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday. 

The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth. 

Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan. 

“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?” 

He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you. 

“-orrning. Bet-terr.” 

“Are you making breakfast?” 

He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit. 

“Prractice.” 

You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie. 

“You need any help?” 

He shakes his head and gestures to the table. 

“Sit. Eat.” 

You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it. 

“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.” 

“You'rre -elcome.” 

“And you're speaking so well!” 

“Prrractice.” 

He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate. 

“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”

He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more. 

“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”

Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit. 

Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain. 

When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes. 

Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out. 

“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?” 

He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words. 

“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.” 

You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.

A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.

“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle. 

“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!” 

You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head. 

“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?” 

Eddie flashes his teeth. 

“Bet-terr.” 

“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?” 

“Sure did. Eddie made it.” 

“Really?” 

Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.” 

“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.” 

“I… can hel-p.” 

The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens. 

Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.

“Woah, don't think we need all-” 

Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once. 

“Ah. Right.” 

“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?” 

Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth. 

“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.” 

Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you. 

“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.” 

“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.” 

You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens. 

“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.” 

Eddie growls in his throat. 

“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!” 

After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway. 

Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm. 

“You good?” 

You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you. 

“Yeah, of course, I'm great.” 

“Liarrr.” 

Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond. 

“You want me. You… want… this.” 

He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth. 

“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?” 

“Can scent.” 

“What?” 

Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts. 

“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!” 

Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine. 

He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation. 

“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.” 

“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-” 

“Want to.” 

He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink. 

Are you really gonna do this? 

Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose. 

“Could you… please?” 

Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands. 

You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver. 

Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you. 

Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach. 

Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over. 

Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder. 

You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face. 

He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks. 

“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.” 

Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you. 

He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did. 

As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck. 

“Wan’ kiss you.” 

You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast. 

You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words. 

For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into. 

********************

“Eddie, come try this!” 

Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake. 

“Eddie?” 

All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open. 

Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.

“Eddie?” 

Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you. 

“Wherre you find… the aprrron?” 

You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him. 

“Oh, it was in a drawer.” 

“Hot.” 

You giggle, cheeks flushing. 

“What you doing Eddie? Practising?” 

He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed. 

“Trrrying. Not good enough.” 

“Yet.” 

Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you. 

“Yet. What you calling forrr?” 

He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.

“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin. 

“Well, I was asking you to try this.” 

You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh. 

“Don't… do…” 

“What, don't do this?” 

You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout. 

“What you gonna do about it, huh?” 

He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown. 

“One… two… thrrree…” 

“Oh, it's like that is it?” 

“...fourrr… five…” 

You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past. 

Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall. 

There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists. 

Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest. 

He makes a face, scrunching his snout. 

“That bad?” 

“I know… what rrrather eat.” 

Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face. 

“You like this.” 

“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over. 

“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose. 

He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip. 

A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…

Then the front door flies open. 

“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!” 

Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow. 

“Steve, I don't think-” 

“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps. 

“What- what's going on!” 

Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child. 

“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-” 

His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch. 

“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-” 

He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.

“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.” 

“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-” 

“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”

Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it. 

“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!” 

Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas. 

After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first. 

Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie. 

“I'm sorry about him.” 

Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch. 

“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.” 

You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile. 

“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?” 

Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks. 

“Eddie?” 

He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders. 

“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.” 

An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.

“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.” 

Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath. 

So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else. 

“Seems I won.” 

His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion. 

“Our little chase?”

You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind. 

“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.” 

Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting. 

“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?” 

Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek. 

“Don't count… Caught you.” 

“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?” 

Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips. 

It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass. 

When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged. 

“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.” 

“Interrrrup-ted.”

“Huh?” 

You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back. 

“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.” 

“Ah, I see. So what do you-” 

“One. Two… thrrree…” 

This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed. 

It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room. 

He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space. 

The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head. 

The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench. 

“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…” 

His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.

You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. 

He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.

“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?” 

He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below. 

In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically. 

“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl. 

“I can smell yourrr cunt.” 

You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.

Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.

Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.  

“Eddie, Eddie please.” 

Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple. 

You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex. 

Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning. 

“Fuck, that- that feels so good!” 

Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger. 

He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting. 

“Eddie, too much, please-” 

He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside. 

“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.” 

You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.

“See… goood girrrrl.” 

You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base. 

“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.” 

Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling. 

You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be. 

No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans. 

Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort. 

Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other. 

His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.

A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear. 

“Mine.”

Part 2

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie #monster!eddie #monster eddie munson #alpha eddie x omega reader #predator x prey dynamic #stranger things smut #stranger things fix it fic #stranger things eddie munson #monster!eddie x fem reader #dom!eddie #dom!eddie munson #dom eddie x fem reader

[liliacamethyst]

So apologies if in advance this is in anyway triggering but I had an idea for a great angsty reveal and all I ask is to be heard out

It involves a miscarriage scare, not that it happens but the scare happens. Here’s the bare bones prompt:

During a mission Sun Spider (ie us) got really bad cramps and is of course terrified that she’s having a miscarriage. As soon as she’s able to she rushes to her place and sets up the ultrasound. (I was kinda thinking the reader were a doctor or nurse of sorts, or at least know another spider who is that would keep the secret.) She wanders the wand and begs that the baby is okay, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she hears the heartbeat and sees her tiny one. Unbeknownst to her Miguel had followed her….

Ahhh this is so angsty and good. Thank you so much Jesse! I thought it would be perfect to combine it with this comment by @fleeingdawn-blog1 :

"Imagine him being FURIOUS that you slept with someone else, the screaming and all the vitriol he would spit your way. Then the dawning horror when he slowly pieces it together and feels his world fall apart around him."

So, because you guys are amazing and have even more amazing ideas, here's another alternate reveal Drabble:

In the middle of an intense mission, you feel an agonizing pain in your lower abdomen. It's a sharp, cramping sensation that doubles you over and forcing you to stop in your tracks. You clutch your stomach, dread sinking in. No, it can't be... Please, no.

You have to leave. You have to get home.

Making some vague excuse to your fellow Spider-people, you swing off, all while trying to ignore the terror building up inside of you. “Please, please let my baby be okay,” you whisper to no one in particular. You had never prayed so hard.

You're careful as you swing, each movement precise so as to avoid jostling too much. As soon as you reach your apartment you rush inside, immediately heading to the hidden medical room you've set up.

You're not a doctor, but you're resourceful. You had to be. You had to protect your baby.

Setting up the ultrasound, your hands tremble with anxiety. You take deep breaths, trying to stay calm for the sake of your unborn child. Picking up the device, you slowly move it across your belly, your eyes glued to the screen, your ears straining to hear that precious heartbeat.

And then you see it. The tiny flicker on the screen, the reassuring beat that echoes through the room. Your baby is alive. The relief washes over you like a wave, tears prickling your eyes. You breathe out a shaky laugh, one hand coming up to cover your mouth.

"You're okay... oh, thank god, you're okay," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. You continue to stare at the screen, memorizing every curve, every line of your tiny baby. You're so wrapped up in your relief and joy, you don't hear the door creak open.

Miguel, who had silently followed you, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He's staring at you, at the screen, at the clear image of your unborn child.

As Miguel’s gaze moves between the ultrasound screen and you, something inside him snaps. His face contorts, his nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with a fury you have never seen before, turning even more red than usual.

“What is this?! Who is he?!” Miguel’s voice fills the room as he points toward the screen.

“Miguel...” you start, but he cuts you off, his voice now a roar.

“WHO’S IS HE? DIME!” Miguel’s words are like knives, slashing through the air.

You’re cowering back, tears streaming down your face. “Mi... Miguel, please, just...”

“WHO ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH, HUH?” He's practically spitting the words at you, venom dripping from every syllable.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” he bellows. His eyes are wild, his rage all-consuming.

“I... I didn’t... you...” You’re stuttering, trying to get the words out, trying to tell him the truth, but his anger is like a tidal wave, overwhelming you.

And then just like that, in the midst of his rage something changes. His gaze flicks to the ultrasound screen again, and his face goes pale. The room is deathly silent except for your ragged breathing and the rhythmic beating of the baby's heart on the ultrasound monitor.

He blinks. Once. Twice. His voice drops to a whisper. “How... how far along...?”

“Three months,” you manage to whisper back, choking on your tears.

His brain races, the timeline whirring in his head. Realization dawns on him like a cold sunrise.

“Is it...?” His voice is barely audible, a ghost of its former fury.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, Miguel. It’s yours.”

#miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #angst

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

stop flirting with the nurse, it’s embarrassing.

it’s hard to act cool if james’ beautiful, hot nurse can hear his heart rate.

tags: james potter x gn!reader,, modern au,, hospitals,, nurse!reader,, remus pov,, melodramatic sirius and peter,, fluffy,, crack(?),, short around 1.3k wc,, no mentions of y/n

a/n: contrary to the title, there are no flirting just james being awkward lol,, i have no idea about the process of how vital checking goes sorry,, finding photos for this probably took longer than writing the fic itself rip.

it is to be noted that remus, resignedly, accepted it was only a matter of time before james got hospitalized for his recklessness.

now, with sirius and peter on either side of him, they wait for james to gain consciousness from his surgical procedure. it was a minor one, hardly one that needed 24/7 surveillance that sirius begged him to be a part of nor is the blubbering phone call from peter about james dying. the doctors even said he could be discharged the same day, if he woke up within the hour or so.

but remus is nothing but a people-pleaser. so, he stayed to watch over james as sirius requested and comforted peter that their loud, obnoxious (/fond) friend will wake up soon.

the room ridiculously quiet, a word rarely used as an adjective if they were involved, but it was. the only sound in the room, is the constant slow stream of the heart monitor and james’ soft breathing. remus can attribute this peace that the unnecessarily frantic and ballistic duo has now gone to sleep on the hospital’s stiff couch.

your head poked in first through the curtain before offering the gentlest smile and a silent request for you to come closer. you had been nothing but kind and attentive, to the point you were somewhat spoiling his overdramatic friends and their bemoaning about death and pain.

acknowledging their concerns with facts, reassurances, and empathic smiles. though he couldn’t miss the twitch of your lips as you try and stop, what remus imagines is a bellowing laughter at their dramatic reactions over james’ “demise.” not that remus blames you if you did let out a little laugh, it was getting theatric for a simple, small, and successful surgery. but he understands that professionalism comes first, such reactions might not be appropriate.

“well, everything seems fine here. your friend should be waking up anytime soon, if he does, don’t hesitate to ring us over so we can have him checked and he can be discharged. but before i leave the room, do you want me to do anything for you, any questions or concerns?” you say, voice gentle and firm

“no, we’re good, thank you.”

you nodded and gave a pretty smile, “okay then.”

you adjusted the curtain to close it fully, giving a stirring james and the sleeping visitors some privacy.

it wasn’t long before james woke up, groaning and stretching as if he had just been napping. albeit, a little delirious still, from the anesthesia no doubt.

he had opened his eyes now, unnaturally drooping and hazed, remus reached over and thwacked sirius and peter on their heads, “james’ awake.” he hums, giving nothing but an innocent looking smile as they glare for their rude awakening.

any sort of complaints from the smack quickly died out when they saw james, crowding over him and hugging him as if he’s been gone for 3 years and not 3 hours.

peter grabs james’ hands and recounts his experience of how he heard the news (from a text). at the same time with sirius exclaiming,

“oh, i’m so relieved you’re alright!” sirius cries, cradling james’ head to his chest, nuzzling through the knotted mass of curls to which remus only rolls his eyes at the theatrics of it all.

leaving remus no choice but to call you back into their section and have him checked for the last time.

“i’m fine,” james rasps, giving a sleepy smile and sluggishly patting both of the melodramatic thespians as comfort.

he looked fine, his hair no doubt knotted, his lips cracked dry but still rosy-cheeked.

when you arrived, sirius and peter have behaved themselves to sit down on the chair beside james’ bed. you slid the curtains fully, letting the light into their area. the fluorescent lights behind your head creating a soft halo as you kindly smile at james.

he looked to be stuck in a dazed trance. eyes still drooping but wider than when he first woke up, mouth slightly open, and body seemed to be frozen in place.

at first, remus thought of this due to the lingering effects of anesthetics but heard james’ heart rate steadily increase in speed.

the beeping machine seemingly louder now than before.

“hello, james. how are you feeling?” you hum, walking to go near him to do your routine check up.

the beeping seem to have picked up in speed as you neared his bed.

remus looked to the others to see if they noticed. the three of them, doing their best to cover their mouths to muffle their laughter.

“..’m fine..” james mumbled, starry-eyed gaze stuck to your face as you check his file and vitals.

“no pain? or headaches? any discomfort?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“jus’ perfect. ” he said, sounding a bit breathless.

the beeping was just going incrementally faster, the nearer you go to him.

you look at the monitor, face looking confused and worried all the same. “is it okay if i touch you? i’m just going to check on something really quick.”

the beeping stops for 2 whole seconds before continuing its raging beats. by now the three boys are having a field day, face red from the silent laughter and disbelief.

his heart literally skipped a beat, what even is this guy really? remus amusedly thinks to himself.

james couldn’t seem to say anything but give a measly nod. you grab your stethoscope, and listened to his raging heartbeat to see if anything was wrong. but james’ heart rate just seemed to have gained more momentum as you gently place your hand on his shoulder.

you move away, and slowly the heart rate slowed down, but still fast enough that you looked at him in slight concern.

“your heart rates a bit fast,” you noted, looking straight at him.

james’, oh sweet james, cheeks bloomed a glowing red and bashfully looked down.

you wrapped the stethoscope around your neck again and gave him a sweet, reassuring smile, “but other than that, everything looks to be in order. i’ll bring over the papers you have to sign and then you guys are free to go.”

when you finally walked away, james heart rate seemed to slow down to the normal speed once more. lolling his head to the side, as he groans in utter embarrassment and self-loathing.

“what is wrong with me?” he groans, cheeks still aflame.

sirius smirks, “your usual weakness to utter babes, that’s what.”

“your heart was going so fast i thought it was going to pop.” peter gushed laughing.

james playing with his starchy blanket, muttering lowly, “you think the pretty nurse heard that?”

the boys snorts out a laugh,

“i think the whole bloody hospital heard it mate,” remus cackled.

you came into view again, attending to another patient checking their vitals. offering the same kind of glowwy smile you gave them not a minute ago.

and because james just loves torturing himself, his gaze lands on you again. the same dazed look, body frozen but his eyes actively following your every move. the boys heard his heart rate—the beeping sounds picking up again.

this time sirius couldn’t stop his bark of laughter, causing you to look over them, curious.

your gaze connecting with james for a solid second.

they heard the monitor give another long pause before resuming its fast beeps. remus shook his head laughing, telling you not to worry.

you give remus a small nod, before looking over at his flustered friend, giving james a smaller, but somehow the sweetest smile you showed all day and abashedly looking away.

and james looking undeniably enamoured by your brief exchange. letting his tongue wet his dry lips as a giddy, rather boyish smile erupts from his face.

hopefully, this doesn’t give james more reason to be reckless and get himself admitted to the hospital more often. but if he does, at least it’ll be a funny story.

#perpetuallydaydreaming #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #marauders imagine #james potter fluff #marauders era #peter pettigrew #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x gn!reader #the marauders #modern marauders #marauders fluff #marauders #harry potter fandom #james fleamont potter #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff

[bitchimasnake-sss]

i love from me to you sm! 😭 like it aimed directly to my heart 😭 you're so good at writing stuff so, here i am asking for a zoro!fic where reader hides that she got wounded during their last battle and zoro founds out and our poor moss head thought reader was gonna die so, he confessed (i just love flustered zoro) 😚 n e ways, continue writing the best stories!! lotsoflove! - glasses of nanamin

i feel like this is your second ask cause of the "n e ways" but lol, eitherways that's such a cute concept!! i would love love love this (i tweaked the prompt a little bit to fit it better, but i hope you like it it still)

got me losin' my cool ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: as anon asked!! you get hurt during a fight and zoro almost has a mental breakdown haha live, laugh, love <3

warning: a bit of angst, zoro is a dumbass. otherwise, wholesome!

roronoa zoro's feet pound against the earth and he was sure that with every leap he took, his heart sunk further under. his fingers were clammy. so very clammy against your soft skin. and he was sure the sweat dripping off his forehead and dropping onto your bloodied tank top was the last thing you wanted to see before you died.

"zo—" you rasped helplessly and your voice felt like graters against his skin. your chapped lips, almost closed eyes, the wound on your stomach and your week, blood-stained hand on it. he couldn't even bear to look at you without wanting to breakdown.

"stop talkin, please." he clenched his jaw tighter, the sound of teeth against teeth jarring. and although he refused to look down at you, cradled carefully in his arms, he could hear the desperate heaves that rocked your body.

he picked up the pace, ducking under hanging vines and leaping over overgrown roots of ancient trees carefully, so, as to not hurt you. the ship should be two minutes away, docked at the edge of the island and chopper must be there. and chopper would know what to do. how to help you.

zoro had to just deliver you to chopper.

but with his poor geographical skills, he felt like he had been running for the past thirty minutes without finding the ship. and he was certain the ship was docked only 10 minutes away from where the fight was taking place between the strawhat crew and a local pirate crew.

"zoro—" you started again.

why were you speaking? DID YOU WANT TO DIE?

"—don't use up your breath. please." he panted, feet still working to find the ship. where was that goddamn ship?

"that side—" you winced as you pointed your arm in the opposite direction. you coughed, wincing again before whispering, "the sunny."

zoro's head whipped around to look behind him. and at once, he changed the course. running as fast as he could, he soon found himself at the rocky beach the ship had been docked at.

"CHOPPER!" the swordsman bellowed for the mini doctor as he climbed up the ship. the reindeer was peering over the deck and when he looked at your nearly passed-out figure, he yelped in surprise.

"she got stabbed." zoro explained as he carried you inside to chopper's makeshift office/operation theater. laying you down gently, they both looked guilty as you groaned and clutched your own hand on the wound tighter.

"i need to apply some anti-septic, clean the wound and stitch it up." chopper stated, eerily calm in the heat of the moment. "here—" he gave zoro a sterilized cloth from his cupboard, "—apply it to her wound. put pressure on the area, i need to go make the anti-septic really quick."

"you have to make it? how long will that take?" if the swordman wasn't scared out of his wits, he would be surprised at how desperate he sounded.

"five minutes."

zoro looked at the reindeer wide-eyed. but the reindeer ran off, presumably to make the said medicine.

he looked back at you, putting the cloth to the wound and gently pushing down. he knew how to make the bleeding stop, he had done this multiple time. what he hadn't done multiple times was see you so lifeless, so incredibly overtaken by pain.

"hey." he found himself saying softly. softer than he had ever spoken before, "hey, can you look at me? hear me?"

you nodded slowly and relief washed over him. atleast you hadn't lost all cognitive senses.

"just focus on my voice, okay?" he knelt down so that he was on your eye-level from the bed. his other hand gingerly took ahold of yours. mindlessly, he rubbed soothing circles on your skin. he repeated, "just focus on my voice. yeah, close your eyes. i'm here okay?"

you found yourself closing your eyes, relying solely on the darkness of your eyelids and his voice to guide you to safety. his hand felt like a familiar weight against your stomach, the kind of touch that will renew a dead man and get him climbing back from his grave. his voice was sweet, too sweet to be even called his.

"i—" he paused, rubbing your skin with the pad of his thumb, "chopper's gonna fix you up, you know. h-he always does. i mean you're stronger than this. you'd survive, right?"

he's not sure if he meant to ask it as a question. he was sure he had said it to sound reassuring. but somewhere in between him uttering the words and you hearing them, they had turned into a desperate, desolate plea.

your chest fluttered underneath him, your breath strained. the face he adored slowly scrunched up from the pain. and he found himself talking even more.

"focus on me, okay? just me." he steeled his voice. and his nerves. "you'd be okay. you know, you always said you'd make me mochi, you never did. you said you'd make sake flavoured mochi. is that even a thing?" he laughed despite himself. it was barely a laugh. a pitiful scoff maybe? it was not the kind of laugh that would fool you.

"uh— once you get better." he pretended to ignore the way your body seemed to go slack under him. he repeated, "once you get better, i'm gonna convince franky to make us fireworks. you love those. and- and nami. i'd convince that money-hungry witch to lend me some money so that i can take you out. we will go shopping. you always said you—"

why were you so awfully quiet? usually, you'd talk to the point where he wanted to cut his ear off. now, he wanted to her you. he wanted to hear you call him a moss-head like sanji and he wanted you to laugh when he yelled at luffy for doing something stupid. and—

"—hey?" his voice pitched higher, "please wait, chopper will be back yeah?"

but you didn't even shake your head a weak yes. his shaky fingers reached out to look for your pulse on your neck. it was there. feeble, but there. but for how long?

how long till he lost you?

his throat was closing up, he couldn't breathe. his eyes burned and he was sure he was gonna mark your skin with his own from the way he held onto your wrist.

why won't you talk to him? call out his name, god fucking dammit. nobody called his name the way you did. as if you liked the syllables enough to make a home out of them. nobody smiled at him the way you did. so sweet, too sweet for him. you were everything. even though he was just another wrecked, broken boy with dreams too big for his mortal body, you were everything.

"please," he clutched onto you like a maddening bastard, "please. just hold on, okay?"

but bile seemed to crawl farther up his throat every time you didn't respond. not even a slight glance. not even the movement of a pinky. his fingers checked for your pulse. faint, but there.

and he couldn't hold his words back. he called out your name in a desperate effort to awaken you. water blurred his vision and he blinked it away. his throat was scratchy. too scratchy. and where was chopper?

"i love you." he finally confessed, not thinking much of his words than the fact that he just wanted you to hear them. "i love you so much. i have for so long. i-it wasn't supposed to be like this. i- i was gonna take you out to explore some island. i would have bought you food and called you an idiot when you smiled at me. then— then." he paused, "i would have told you i loved you. you would have said nothing back. and i would have loved even despite that."

he called out your name, sobs racking through his body like accursed symphonies.

"move." chopper was back, in his hand was a ceramic bowl with a green, gooey paste. "go out. i'd call you back, okay?"

if chopped noticed the state zoro was in, he simply chose not to dwell on it. and if zoro had any residual doubts for what kind of a doctor chopper was, he didn't dwell on them either. he caressed your hand one last time and stepped out.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

the swordsman had been pacing around the deck. none of the members were back and it gnawed on his heart. what if they were hurt too? should he go back to see? but how could he leave chopper and you alone here? and what kind of a first mate was he if he cannot even save his own crew?

the world's greatest swordman be damned.

chopper stepped out and zoro looked at the doctor, frantic. chopper gave him a sigh and chased it with a smile, "she's okay."

zoro was not sure if it was the exhaustion, or the relief, or some other feeling his gut had concocted in him without asking. but he crashed down on his knees. his palms felt rough against his face and when he inhaled, he could smell dried blood on them.

"hey." chopper trotted towards him, keeping his paw on the green-haired man's shoulders, "she's okay, really. they missed any vital spots and she didn't lose a lot of blood. she will heal, okay?"

zoro couldn't do anything but just nod along. then, when he had the courage to look away from his hands. he looked at the doctor, finally muttering a faint "thank you."

the reindeer blushed at the compliment, "don't thank me. but you know, once she's better, you should tell her how you feel. this time maybe while she's conscious."

"chopper." the swordsman groaned.

the reindeer shrugged mechanically, "i won't tell anyone what i heard if you promise to take her out on that date."

after much deliberation— having to choose between humiliation at the hand of his crewmates when they discovered his crush or the humiliation from his crush when he finally confessed— he finally gave in. after all, humiliation from one was better than humiliation from seven. especially that fucking cook.

"fine." he grumbled, "i'd take her out."

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it had been two weeks since you were stabbed. well, you didn't talk to anyone about it, really. but when you drifted off into the wicked embrace of sleep, you would be plagued by the memories. and well, a confession.

it's not like you were pretending to be dead!! your body had simply given up. it was exhausted from the fighting and the not-dying. so, when you were laid on chopper's bed to be patched up, your body had gone slack. but just because your body had gone slack doesn't mean you weren't awake.

it had been two weeks and you hadn't told the green-haired asshole what you had heard. why? maybe cause you thought he would make the first move. or maybe because you weren't quite sure if he actually said those things or if you hallucinated it to dilute the pain.

eitherways, seemed like things between you and the mosshead were the same as they were before the incident. and you were really starting to consider the hallucination excuse. but then—

"hey." zoro quipped up as he came to stand beside you. it was cloudy today, the grey skies churning in anticipation of a storm. the winds were unkind and the sea was malevolent. beautiful nonetheless.

"oh hey." you turned and gave him a small smile. you shifted from one feet to another, pretending as if you weren't terrified of the route this conversation might take, "whats up?"

"uh—" he looked back for a spilt-second and you saw— from the corner of your eyes— chopper hidden behind a bunch of boxes, giving zoro his best death glare. zoro sighed, "so, uh, this is random, i think? but when we dock on the next island tomorrow morning. do like... do you want to go see some new sword-cleaning equipment with me?"

you shouldn't have laughed. but you did.

"what's funny?!" his eyes widened and his cheeks were dusted pink.

"no-nothing." you heaved, closing your eyes. "that's the best excuse you could come up with? sword cleaning equipment?"

"what do you mean 'excuse'? i need some equipment!"

"zoro." you forced open your eyes, your smile still frozen over your lips, "if you want to go out on a date with me, you should say that okay?"

his ears went red and he looked away. you were sure if the weather was quiet, you could hear his heart picking up the pace. clearing his throat, he finally asked, "who told you? chopper?"

"no, dummy." you reached your hand out, taking his calloused palm in yours. your thumb rubbed familiar patterns on his hand, "you did."

"me?" he snapped to look back at you, "me?"

you just gave him a grin, "this reminds me, i did promise you i'd try making sake flavoured mochi. i never did. but again, you said you'd ask frankie to make us fireworks and we're still firework-less. but hey, i forgive you if you forgive me okay?"

his head could have burst open from the sheer pressure on his brain but you continued, "but eitherways, what i really mean is that if you said i love you." you stepped a bit closer, "i'd say i love you too."

your hand let go of his and you chose to walk away, leaving him dumbfounded. when his senses came to him, he ran upto you, "YOU HEARD THAT ALL?!"

"all of it."

"ugh."

"heh, it was kinda cute."

"i thought you were dying, woman."

"in a way, we all already are."

"have you been hanging out with robin too much? god, kill me."

"god doesn't need to. you're already dying."

"i want to die faster."

you took his hand back in yours and pulled him towards yourself. pecking his cheek, you said, "no. we still have to go on that date. i mean, if you ever actually ask me."

the flustered mess that was rorononoa zoro just sighed. accepting his fate, he asked, "well, do you wanna go on that date or what?"

you snickered, "i'll think about it"

"do you live to annoy me?"

"maybe. but you love meee."

"i might change my mind after this."

but despite his words, his fingers stayed gently intertwined with yours. hey, maybe getting stabbed in the stomach wasn't all that bad? (jk, it was very very bad)

a/n: i love writing stoic men are flustered little guys lmaoo. hopefully y'all like this? i've been writing a lot of fluff/semi-angst lately. i wanna write some nsfw content but im so out of ideas. send reqs if you guys have anything in mind!!

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro fluff #zoro fic #zoro imagine #one piece x reader

[cassieoz]

Birth Moment

"Come on Amanda, push your baby's head out! Big hard pushing! You can do this! Let's go! Deep breath and PUSH HARD!"

Amanda was struggling with the crowning pressure between her trembling thighs. It was one enormous head! She couldn't believe she had agreed to carry and birth a Giant's offspring. The pain was completely intolerable. The super contractions accompanied with the immense stretching of her theobbing opening was more than unbearable. It was the worst pain she had ever experienced.

The father paced outside the birthing unit, desperate for news. He grabbed one of the delivery doctors as he prepared to enter her birthing OR.

"What is taking so long? Is she alright? I have heard her screams for the last hour!"

The doctor looked at him with sympathy. He told him that they were doing everything possible to deliver the baby safely.

Back in the Birthing OR, suction was being applied to the bulging head. It was stretching just behind the entrance of her folds. The birther was struggling so doctors began to suction through her agonising efforts. Amanda howled and pushed as the head fought to come forward through the narrow opening.

"Its fighting me! It won't come! Oh I have to.....have to......PUSH IT!"

A long bellowing shout echoed around the suite as the head erupted in the biggest crowning position the delivery team had ever seen.....

Amanda convulsed as her body forced down with another brutal expelling effort. The head barrelled through her with a violent explosion. She cried and pushed harder and faster. Her cries were pure agony as her full primal instincts took over. The baby kept birthing through her until the father heard the sweet sound of a healthy wailing baby!

He held his breath as staff hurried to the hall to announce the birth of his child. He smiled weakly as he enquired about Amanda.

"Weak but strong! She seemed to smile when it was out! I think she is keen to do it again very soon!" The delivery nurse looked at the Giant and gave him a wicked wink.

[braimin]

When do you think Zoro says Sanji’s name the first time ? For me it is the moment he thinks he won’t have the chance to say it again.

He makes a point not to say it cause he’s gotten this far without having to say it, and now it feels too imitate to call him Sanji. He knows when he finally does, it’ll change their relationship; he’s not sure either of them are ready for it just yet.

It happens during a fight with the marines, a lot of marines. But that’s routine at this point. They’ve fought plenty and this is no different. They keep coming in waves and Sanji and Zoro fight back to back as usual. It’s starting to tire them out though, there’s no room to take a breath before another group is coming full force.

After a long while of the repeat of forces Zoro hears the sound of a bullet hitting flesh. His heart lurches but he doesn’t look away from his enemies. But then there’s a thump, and when he turns the cook is on the ground.

It’s okay, he tells himself. Sanji will get up after a moment. And in the meantime Zoro will focus his efforts on protecting the both of them so he can take a second. That second turns to ten, then thirty, then a minute. Sanji’s breathing is different, wet and inconsistent. He takes a step closer and he can see the body below him twitch.

“Come on cook, you gonna leave me to do all the work ?” There’s no response, Zoro tries to still his mind. He can’t let himself lose focus when there’s so much he needs to protect.

“Nap time’s over Dartboard.” The droves of marines are beginning to slow, thankfully, but there’s still no real movement from Sanji. It’s just those harsh breathes. Fear is starting to rush him.

“Get up Curls.” Still no answer. For the first time since Whiskey Peak, Zoro stops caring about how deadly the hits will be as he swings his swords. He needs this to over fast. He can’t see or feel Chopper anywhere close by.

“Baby,” it’s a word he only uses between the two of them. Only in the heat of the moment, and Sanji has always said he hates hearing it. But it still garners no response. With the next slash of his sword he cuts the remaining ten men in front of him clean in half. As soon as he’s certain there’s no threat he’s on the ground next to his cook.

“Hey, are you with me ? Sanji open your eyes.” He tries not to jostle the man too much while he looks for where the bleeding starts. After a second of Zoro’s hand on him Sanji opens his eyes.

“Sanji, shit. Don’t fucking scare me like that.” He’s still searching the battle field hoping Chopper will fall into his view at some point. Luck is kind as always, their doctor comes into line of sight while Zoro presses his sash into the wound. He puts his whole lungs into screaming for him and tries to staunch the bleeding.

Chopper hears and starts running towards them. Zoro is filled with relief and turns his full attention back to the blonde bellow him. “Chopper’s coming okay, Sanji ? Just stay awake for me until he gets here.”

Sanji hums, “You’re saying my name. Sounds pretty when you say it.” His eyes aren’t focused when he looks up at the swordsman, but he’s awake and right now that’s really all Zoro can care about.

“Stay awake and I’ll say it as much as you want.” He gets a barely audible laugh, then Sanji closes his eyes and Zoro’s heart stops.

“I’m awake, keep saying it.”

#and then he dies #jk chopper saves the day cause he’s the worlds best doctor #just thinking about the fact that Zoro has yet to say sanjis name in the manga #I think at some point Zoro is just too embarrassed to start saying it #he does say it after this #but not often #zosan #one piece #I love making these boys suffer

[callsignhoney]

just a chance ➤

pairing(s) ➤ bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

genre ➤ a little angst, fluff

summary ➤ your reckless behavior leads to a water logged confession

———

Your hands hadn’t stopped shaking since the day before. Usually, you had total control from the second you put on your flight suit to the moment your feet hit the tarmac. You grip the yoke with steady hands and are fully in control of your plane. You’ve always felt at home in the cockpit, free in a way you never felt on the ground.

Your hands still wouldn’t stop shaking. It didn’t matter that you’d made it out with nothing but a few bruises. It didn’t matter if the doctors told you Catchphrase, your weapons system operator and best friend, would be fine. They told you he’d been in and out of consciousness and likely had a concussion but would otherwise be fine. That didn’t matter.

You almost died yesterday. You and Catch almost died. Your engines failed. You spiraled uncontrollably. Catch was still in g-LOC from the training exercise you’d just completed. Maverick was ordering you to leave him, to save yourself. You disobeyed.

“Catch, wake the hell up!” you’d screamed. “Come on, Catchphrase! Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”

“Parkway, leave it! Eject! Eject now!” Maverick had yelled at you.

You couldn’t leave him. He’d been with you through everything. If he was going down, you were going with him.

“LINCOLN HARLOW, GET YOUR ASS UP AND EJECT RIGHT NOW!”

He gained just enough consciousness to eject himself before you followed suit. You two narrowly avoided the deadly crash that would have followed. You had almost lost your wingman.

Your hands would not stop shaking.

“Park!” a voice bellowed from behind you.

You recognized it and didn’t deign to turn.

“Park! Parkway!”

You closed your eyes and let the salty sea breeze blow on your face. Water lapped around your knees and up to the bottom of your thighs. The setting sun glowed warmly as it began to sink below the horizon.

“PARK!”

You came here for some quiet but evidently would not be finding it. Looking over your shoulder revealed a very pissed off Rooster standing on the shoreline.

“Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, dumbass. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“What were you thinking?! You almost got yourself killed! What would have happened if you died? Huh? What would have happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you said simply, turning away from him.

“That’s too damn bad, because we’re going to. You can’t put yourself in danger like that! When your captain tells you to eject, you do it. You don’t wait around. Those extra seconds you spent in that plane could have killed you. We don’t get a little extra time up there.”

“I don’t need you to tell me things I already know,” I shouted over my shoulder at him.

“Then—Jesus Christ, you self sacrificing piece of shit,” Rooster mumbled.

A glance behind you showed Rooster pulling off his shoes and socks and rolling up his pant legs, beginning to wade out to you. You huffed out an annoyed breath.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Rooster,” you said.

“I want you to tell me what you were thinking putting yourself in danger like that!”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

You rounded on him, shoving him back. “You don’t have someone in your plane with you, Bradshaw. You don’t have someone relying on you to keep them safe. If you go down, you don’t have to experience the fear of both of you not making it. You get to worry about yourself and no one else. I don’t get that luxury!”

Rooster pushed you right back. “And how would Catch feel knowing you almost died because of him?”

“Pretty damn good, I’d hope, seeing as I saved his life!”

“By almost losing yours!”

You shoved him again. “He’s safe! What’s it even matter?”

Rooster pushed you back. “It matters because I almost lost you!”

“You never even had me!”

“And I almost never got the chance!”

Another shove sends Rooster back, foot catching on something that sends him falling into the water. You can’t find it in you to feel bad. He kept pushing you, so you pushed him back. But what did he mean he “almost never got the chance?”

Flinging water everywhere, Rooster rose up out of the ocean, now completely soaked. You stare at him, mouth open. You wouldn’t apologize for shoving him, but did he mean that? He almost lost you. He almost never got the chance to have you. He wanted you?

“What does that mean?” you demanded.

“What do you think it means?” Rooster spat with a mouthful of sea water, shaking water from his hair like a wet dog.

“You—you can’t just—what does that even—?”

“I care about you, okay? You’re amazing! And I’ve wanted to tell you but it was never the right time but then yesterday happened and—… I’m scared that if I keep waiting I’ll lose you entirely.”

“You never even had me,” you repeated lamely, weakly.

“That’s my point!” he exploded. “I want you! You’re all I’ve wanted since I met you.”

“That was, like, four years ago.”

“I know, I’m pathetic. Thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

“No, I—it’s just—… You want me?”

“Yes,” he emphasized. “Is that really so hard for you to wrap your head around?”

“I’d convinced myself you wouldn’t want me like that,” you admitted. “It didn’t seem probable. Or very smart, to be honest, considering fraternization and all that. But I want you, too.”

Rooster let out a breath. “That’s good. Otherwise this would have been really embarrassing.”

“You’re insufferable,” you scowled.

“And you’re a reckless idiot. We all have our faults.”

“My ‘fault’ saved my best friend’s life.”

“And I almost lost you.” Rooster held your face in his hands and you were acutely aware of just how close the two of you were, just how easy it would be to kiss him. “Don’t make me lose you.”

“That’s a dangerous promise to make in our line of work,” you breathed.

You could feel his breath fan across your lips as he tilted your head up to his. Four years he’d been waiting to do this. How long had you waited to have him? You don’t know when friendship tilted towards something deeper, more intimate but at some point your yearning for him was no longer platonic.

“Then at least give me a chance to have you before you self destruct,” he amended.

“That can be arranged.”

“Glad to hear it.”

You held your breath as he moved to close the distance between you. His head tilted to the side. Your lips slotted together, and you’re sure nothing had ever felt more perfect. He held you tighter until you couldn’t have pulled away even if you wanted to. You held onto him as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

Then your feet came out from under you as he unceremoniously tossed you into the surf, dunking you underwater. You popped back up spluttering to the sound of Rooster’s laughter. You shoved your hair out of your face.

“Oh my god,” he laughed, “oh, that’s payback, darling.”

“You know when I said I’d give you a chance? I take that back now.”

He caught you by your hips and pulled you into him. “No returns, refunds, or exchanges.”

“God, what?” you groaned. “That’s a crappy return policy.”

“Looks like you’ll just have to keep the merchandise, then.”

You hummed. “Maybe I just will.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of Rooster’s neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He returned it eagerly, mouth fitting against yours. He went to slide an arm around you again but you caught it.

“Dunk me again and we’re gonna have problems,” you warned against his lips.

He hummed and reconnected them.

His hands instead found purchase on your thighs and tugged, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He kissed you again, and again. Now that he’d started kissing you, he didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want him to. You could get drunk on him faster than any liquor in the world.

Making himself fall backwards, Rooster took you down with him as he fell into the water. You coughed as you came back up, Rooster right beside you and laughing again. You splashed him and he didn’t even try to defend himself, not until you tackled him back underwater and he got to his feet, collecting you up in his arms.

“Rooster, I swear to god—“

He threw you into the water again. When you righted yourself, you launched yourself at him. Arms around his shoulders, you dragged him down underwater with you. With you still hanging around his neck, continually trying to drag him under, he crawled toward the beach until the waves were little more than trickles of water at your feet.

“You are a vengeful little thing,” he said, bracing himself above you as you finally released him and dropped onto you back on the sand below him.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my phone on me.”

He laughed. He ducked down to kiss you and you let him, cupping his jaw.

“Your mustache tastes like sea water,” you muttered into the kiss.

He darted down to kiss your neck. “You taste like sea water.”

“I wonder why,” you said.

“Who knows?”

You laughed, cut off as Rooster kissed you again.

You returned home that night partially covered in sand, smelling like the ocean, and hand in hand with Rooster. If you were looking for a distraction, you sure found a hell of a one. You kissed him goodnight and told him to get some sleep for tomorrow’s training. As you followed your own instructions, you realized your hands had finally stopped shaking.

#top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun rooster

[ladylunora]

i turned my “imagine if instead of benrey being the only character on the science team to not be a scientist was the other way around with him being the only scientist in a group full of guards” shitpost doodle into an actual au… i call it “HLVRAI job swap au”

also i won’t go over every scenario on this au (you can ask me if you want tho) (also aside from these characters everyone else stays the same, jefferem and josh were scientists tho aaaaand gman does swap jobs too but i won’t reveal anything yet you’re gonna have to wait for me to make more doodles of this au) because its still pretty much the same as hlvrai but they swap jobs but if you wanna know how the res cas happens i wrote it bellow

gordon’s a regular security guard doing his job guarding the test chamber, and this scientist benrey is the one who’s gonna do the test experiment in the test chamber… he shows up without the hev suit to do it though just his lab coat, and gordon follows him insisting that he has to put on the hev suit, and benrey just tells him he’ll be fine because that he is not human and he definitely knows what he’s doing and “dude you don’t even have a passport and you’re wearing an orange shirt you’re the one suspicious”, gordon tries to tell him he spilled coffee that morning on his blue shirt and “wait passport?? WHY IS THAT IMPORTANT WE DON’T EVEN NEED OUR PASSPORTS- DOCTOR BENREY YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE WITHOUT THE SUIT” when they get there gordon calls reinforcements (bubby, coomer and tommy) to help him with this fucking guy but they assume benrey knows what he’s doing, anyways gordon and benrey get into an argument while benrey is trying to do the experiment, they both end up pushing the cart too fast fucking the whole thing up and the resonance cascade happens

#hlvrai #half life vr self aware ai #gordon feetman #benrey #tommy coolatta #dr coomer #bubby #hlvrai forzen #darnold pepper #this probably has a lot of typos #hlvrai job swap au

[the-fiction-witch]

Breathless P2

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet

Requested: That was great please can we have a part two, also absolutely love your writing Part 2? Warnings: Medical emergencies / Asthma attacks / medical instruments / medication

I lay in the little cheap metal hospital bed, the white enamel paint flicking and flaking off, the sweet sheets around my body, the scent of cleanliness in the air. I had been here for the amount a week now and so far I had been taken excellent care of, Jack was my doctor and he would check up on me almost on the hour or close to it, to check I was alright, he even gave me my own room so I wasn't on the ward with other people. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jack asked as he opened my door and came inside, shutting the door behind him.

I blushed a little to see him again as I had only seen him about an hour ago, and given the time this would likely be the last time he visited, but I noticed his clothes adjusted and hair fixed since the last I saw him. His hands are a little dirty with blood.

"What did you do today?" I asked looking at his hands, 

"Humm? Ohh, bandaging." He answered pushing up his sleeves and showing his hands off, he went to the side and washed up his hands, "So? How are you feeling?"

"The same. Wheezy, tight chest, coughing nothing up." I explained, 

"Alright, You're not getting any better it's concerning me." He said coming to sit on my bed briefly fixing some hair from my face, "Come on. I'll be quick." I nodded and sat up turning to the window as he took his little listening tool and carefully slipped it up my nightie but I gasped 

"You alright?"

"It's cold," I complained 

"Ohh sorry" he chuckled taking it off and breathing on it a little and then putting it back, a little warmer 

"Good girl, In... and out. just breathe with me, In and out" He whispered  "And around the front" He said moving his tool to my front still under my nightie "In... and out." He muttered "Alright" he sighed moving away 

"What about the other tests?" I asked

"Still waiting." He said "Go on lay back down" he reassured 

I nodded and laid back in bed "Can't I have a cigarette?"

"No." he glared

"Half a one?"

"No."

"... can I breathe next to a leaf?"

"No. Those damn things were only making you worse" 

"A pipe then?"

"No. I'm not telling you again" He warns 

 "What is it you're scared of Jack?"

"...Nothing." He answered clearly lying to me "Get some rest, I'll check up on you tonight." He said tapping my hand and giving it a little kiss before he headed to the door 

"Jack?"

"Yeah?" he asks turning to face me 

"You'd tell me if you knew something was wrong... wouldn't you?"

"I'm a doctor. I have to give bad news... as much as it might hurt." He said, "Get some rest." 

"Yes doctor" I nodded, his words stung my heart leaving me breathless, I felt like he was lying to me, but I didn't want to push him perhaps I was wrong. 

I sat in bed with my book listening to myself wheeze when the door opened, 

"I come baring soup" Jack smiled setting the soup on my table "It's not great I admit but, there is enough spice in that soup to jump the heart of a toad, so hopefully it should clear your airways a little, if nothing else... you'll certainly feel the air a lot more" he chuckled sitting on the bed with me "How are we?"

"The same" I coughed into my tissue the moment I stopped he glared clicking his fingers and offering his hand so I handed the tissue over

"Thank you," he said stuffing it in his pocket to run tests on later "I also have something else for you"

"Ohh noo... Please no more bellows Jack" I pleaded 

"No, no more. I don't know why I listened to him about that" He sighed "Medicine," He said getting the bottle from his pocket 

"What will it do?"

"I don't know. I hope it's going to stop you from wheezing..."

"But?"

"But... it may cause you to have a heart attack."

"Ahhhhh" I whined 

"I'm only going to give you a tiny. Tiny about barely even half a teaspoon, if it dulls the wheeze I'll give you more if it doesn't I'll be here to stop the heart attack"

"I don't much like being your experiment Piglet" I pouted 

"I know you don't,"

"Do I have to?"

"Do you want to get better?"

"Yes" I sighed 

"Good, besides your too cute to be a piglet" He winked  "Come on, for me?" He cooed getting the little spoon for me 

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth

"Good girl" He cooed pouring the tiniest about from the bottle into the spoon and letting me take it "There, not give it a minute I will get the Spirometer."

"Do you have to?" I whined 

"Yes." he glared fetching the little contraction from my table it was basically a tube, a glass, and a weight, the weight sat in the glass filled with water and the rubber tube offered to me, I had to breathe as much as I could to cause bubbles to push up the weight which Jack would then read and write down "Big big breath for me," he says I took the tube and did as he asked even if I almost felt like passing out "Ummm... that is, actually a small improvement over yesterday" he smiled giving my nose a kiss "Right, in a few hours We'll check again" 

I sat at the window blowing the smoke out the window but I heard the familiar footsteps, so I quickly put it out threw it out the window and climbed back to bed grabbing my perfume spraying it around the room and me, as the door opened to Jack, "afternoon," He smiled 

"afternoon," I smiled back 

"What's that smell?" He asked as he came over getting the Spirometer from the table and sitting it beside the bed 

"Ohh uhhh wild English rose. My perfume" I smiled giving my bottle another spritz and trying to smile innocently 

"No, I like your perfume." he said coming over to my bed sitting on my bed and glaring at me as he came closer "Y/n."

"Yes, Jack?"

"Where are they?"

"Where's what?"

"You know what."

"I'm sure I don't."

"Yes you do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Where. Are. They."

"Where are what" I pouted

"The cigarettes."

"I don't have any." I snapped 

"Don't you?" he warns 

I couldn't help but glance at my hiding spot but he noticed and rushed to grab them before I did leaving us fighting over who could get their hand under my bed the quickest and I lost. 

"HA! You lied to me." He snapped grabbing the box of asthma cigarettes my father dropped off yesterday when he came to visit "What did I tell you about these." He warns getting up and dropping the box, stepping on them hard to destroy them, as he knew if he merely threw them away I'd get them out the bin, he picked up the wrecked box and threw it out the window before turning his attention to me, so I sheepishly pulled the covers to my nose trying to hide "the only reason you are not getting bent over that bed and getting the absolute worst bloody spanking of your life y/n. Is because I know you'll tell your father and he'll have me hanged."

"eep" I whined hiding under the covers like a ghost "Don't hurt me Jack" I giggled 

he sat on my bed again and tried to remove the covers but I held them too tight, so he sighed and moved the covers over his own head to join me in my tent of fear "I'm not doing it to be mean, I know your struggling, but they are making you so so much worse you know they are."

"I know." I nodded 

"Hey, come on," he cooed stroking my cheek "A little smile for the doctor?"

I forced a smile but ended up having to cough 

"We're gonna have to up your dose"

"No. Jack please it tastes like bones"

"I know but it'll make you better."

"No. I won't."

"Please. for me."

"No."

"You're taking it. either you open your mouth or I'm fetching the funnel." 

"Noooooo" I whined 

"You gonna take your medicine?"

"Fine" I huffed 

"Good girl" he cooed getting the bottle from his pocket and giving me a full spoonful as my dose had only been getting larger "Open up come on" he smiled and I sighed opening my mouth and taking it 

"Ehhhh!" I complained about the terrible taste 

He smiled looking at me a moment before he closed the gap between us and kissed me I had to admit, it was so very nice indeed. His lips were so smooth and gentle, and his slightly metallic woody smell filled my nose, barely any light reached my eyes, our bodies still under the cover like children in a fort, the only issue was such a kiss took my breath away... figuratively and literally. when he pulled back I wheezed and coughed "Is it worse?" he asked a little worried

"You really thought that would help?" I glared with a wheeze throwing the covers off "Yes make the asthmatic hold her breath and both one of her breathing holes with your own mouth"

"Good point." He nodded

"I know you've been waiting for those test results a while jack, I didn't think you'd resort to testing with your own tongue"

"I will do whatever is necessary" He smirked 

"I bet you would" I glared

He smiled kissing my nose before he got up "I'll see you later?"

"I'm not going anywhere." 

"you know what I mean." He glared "Be good. I'll see you later. Ohh and uhh don't tell your father about this-"

"I suppose I could..." I smiled innocently he gave me a look and I just pouted my lips he smirked and held my cheeks giving me another kiss 

"Good girl, I'll see you for dinner" He said stroking my cheek before he headed off back to work. 

I woke up clutching my chest trying desperately to breathe in but no matter how much I gasped nothing arrived in my lungs, I sat up in a rush clawing at my throat as I took in as much as I could but nothing quelled this feeling of needing air, like drowning but above water. 

"Whoa, Whoa, slow. Slow down" Jack told me as I woke him up, he grabbed my face sat on my bed and walked me through some breaths through my nose which did allow air in just not as much as I needed, and once I relaxed I was able to breathe as normal as ever. "You alright?" he asked and I nodded "That's the third time this week." He said fear in his words 

For a moment or two, we just sat following one another breaths, I felt bad seeing the tiredness in his eyes, I had woken him, ever since these night-time attacks Jack would come down to deliver my dinner and sit in the chair by my bed for the rest of the night, I know he mostly slept in the chair but it still left him exhausted, and that was before me waking up breathless in the night which would wake him too and then he would struggle to be able to sleep again merely sitting up all night to watch skin and ensure I was still breathing. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah... chipper." 

"Come on, lay down." he said "Get yourself back to sleep."

"what if it happens again-"

"Then I will be here, and I will make sure you okay," he said "Now come on get some sleep"

I laid down as he asked me to "You need to sleep too."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." I told him tapping my bed 

"I shouldn't-"

"Come on. For me?"

"Alright" He chuckled a little at me using what he so often said back to him, he climbed in with me and laid down slowly and gently holding me, our noses touching  

"You think I'm dying, don't you?"

"...No." he lied

"How much longer on those tests you've been running?"

"I got the results back weeks ago."

"Which are?"

"... I can't"

"You're my doctor. You have to tell me bad news."

"You really can't think of a reason I wouldn't want to tell you" he whispered "After... all our time together, I- I care about you too much now to tell you the truth..."

"I'd tell you. If I knew... Because I care about you." 

"... Your lungs are inflamed and I don't know why. the bronchioles in your lungs aren't working, it's like there being strangled."

"My lungs are disintegrating?"

"More or less. They are heavily damaged and only getting worse, I'm worried you could have full-on Pneumonia but ... I can't tell for sure."

"What can be done?"

"....Nothing. I open you up you'll die of shock. or blood loss before I knew where I was and what I was doing, even so... I can't go into your lungs and fix it- I put a hole in your lying you're as good as dead." 

"So what? You're just going to stay here, and cuddle and kiss me till I die?" 

"Don't you think this hurts... I'm a surgeon. and the one person I can't save is you." He said, "Don't you think that tears my heart in two?"

"Is there anything?" I asked

he shook his head "If it was possible, I would tear out my lungs and give them to you."

"That would kill you, Jack-"

"I know that. I would... if it meant you survived." 

"I know you would" I nodded "Is there any chance?"

"....I don't know" He answered giving my lips a sweet kiss "Come on, get some sleep."

"Will you stay with me?" I asked nuzzling into his chest

"Always. I promise" He answered 

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack