#I have a better grasp on it now but my brain just doesn’t think this way 😭

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders fandom #remus lupin fanfiction #maurauders era #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin fancast #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus fluff #remus imagine #remus x reader #remus x fem!reader

[ghostlychief]

tattooed heart

the one where you ask Ghost about his tattoos

---

You’re lying in bed with your head on Ghost’s chest, able to feel the rise and fall of his breathing as you examine his tattooed arm. Your hands hold up his (surprisingly) heavy arm in order to study the designs more effectively. You’ve been asking him the story behind each tattoo for the past half hour, intrigued by what inspired them. And Ghost has answered you thus far, quelling your wonder in the history behind his now full sleeve. Some have more in-depth stories than others, or are more meaningful to him, but he never fails to answer you earnestly, always giving you a good story behind each one.

You can’t exactly explain what prompted you to sit down (rather lay down) with Ghost to get the details and pick his brain about his sleeve. Maybe you secretly just wanted to run your hand up and down his arm, tracing his tattoos while also being able to feel his solid muscles underneath them, and so therefore you needed an excuse. Maybe you just wanted to feel closer to him somehow, anyway you could, and this is what you came up with that night. Whatever the true reason, you will always look back at this memory fondly, as you spend the night together, learning more about each other.

“Mm what about this one?” You’re pointing at the American traditional skull and snake tattoo on his upper bicep. Ghost chuckles lightly at your pondering, finding it cute that you were so invested in the story behind each and every one of the tattoos on his arm.

“What’s the story behind it?” you ask again. Your fingertip runs gently over the design, tracing the pattern, the action making goosebumps arise on Ghost’s skin. Your soft eyes glance up at him, catching his gaze as well which makes him smile at you. His other arm, that’s not being investigated at the moment, tightens it hold around your shoulders and he lets out a nostalgic sigh before answering you.

“Well to be honest, it was as cover up for another tattoo I got many years ago.”

You let out a hum of understanding before asking, “What was the other tattoo? How bad could it have been for you to get it covered up?”

You and your questions.

Letting out another sigh and with regret coating his voice, he finally answers you. “I lost a dare with my friends and had to get the cliche, heart with ‘mom’ written in it. And obviously that doesn’t really fit the vibe of what I was going for, for my sleeve, so I eventually just got it covered up.” He nonchalantly shrugs after finishing his explanation, subsequently making you shift on his chest.

You prop yourself up a little so you can see him better. “Aww is Simon a mama’s boy?” You have a knowing smile on your lips as you look up at him, and see his eyes roll to heaven and back at your teasing.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re done asking me about my tattoos.” He pulls his arm out of your grasp, although not too roughly, and gently pushes you back onto the bed and rolls on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head propping him up and caging you under him.

“Are you done?” he asks while lowering himself slightly so he can nudge your nose with his, your lips just a hair’s breadth apart.

You close your eyes at his gesture, already forgetting about your questions, your thoughts quickly consumed by Simon being on top of you, being this close to you. You nudge his nose back and hum, “I think I could be, if you can take my mind off of things.”

You open your eyes then and see Simon smirking down at you. “Say no more.”

---

#Simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley fluff #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #cod ghost imagine #cod ghost fanfiction #cod ghost fluff

[azulashengrottospiano]

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet  “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #twst vil x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #vil schoenheit x reader

[corroded-hellfire]

Good Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with the amazing and wonderful @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: When Eddie reminds you to take your antidepressants, little does he know that he’s stumbling onto one of your favorite kinks.

Note: This is a reminder to take your medicine if you haven’t today. Make Eddie proud.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), praise kink, corruption kink, allusion to daddy kink, prescribed use of antidepressants

Words: 2.7k

“You’re seriously trying to tell me that Steven Tyler is better than James Hetfield?” Eddie gawks at you with a disbelieving shake of his head, turning off your Aerosmith cassette in protest. 

“I didn’t say that; I said that he has a wider vocal range. Which is factual,” you retort, snapping the tape back in place and cranking up the volume. 

But Eddie’s not buying it; he paces around your room and mumbles under his breath dramatically. Spotting the bright orange bottle on your dresser, he snatches it up and shakes it. “I thought these things were supposed to make your brain work better,” he teases. “Are you sure you took them today?”

It’s meant as a lighthearted joke, but his smile falters when he sees your gaze drop from where he’s putting on his little one-man show. “You did take your bye-bye sad pills today, right?”

You roll your eyes and grab the bottle from his grasp. “They’re called antidepressants,” you grumble, making no effort to hide your annoyance, “and, no; I didn’t.”

“I think my name for them makes them a little more fun,” he says as he flops onto your bed. “But why didn’t you take them?”

There’s no sense hiding anything from Eddie; he’s been your best friend for far too long and can see right through you. “I’m tired of having to rely on medication to be less sad,” you admit. “It’s, well, it’s fucking depressing.” The irony isn’t lost on you.  

Eddie sighs and lifts himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You know, people need medicine in order for their blood pressure to remain stable. Them not wanting to take the meds isn’t going to do anything except have their blood pressure levels either plummet or go through the roof.”

Tilting your head at Eddie, you shoot him an unamused glare. “My blood pressure is fine.”

“Fine,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Go tell Wayne to stop taking his blood pressure medication because he should rely on his heart the way it is. We’ll see what happens.”

The daggers you’re shooting at Eddie only get sharper because both of you know that you can’t come up with a retort for that. When you don’t soften, not even a bit, Eddie groans and drops his head back. 

“C’mon,” he whines. “Be a good girl and take your pills.”

All of the muscles in your body seem to lock as one at the term. Heat begins to crawl its way up your body and you can only pray that it doesn’t appear on your face. 

“W-What did you just say?”

“I said,” Eddie starts, as if being annoyed he has to repeat himself, “be a good girl and—oh. Christ, does that…?”

“Shut up,” you snap with far more venom than you intended. “Give me my meds and forget it, okay?”

Eddie’s looking at you like the cat who ate the canary. The smirk on his face is becoming more self-satisfied by the second. “Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. I just found out that my best friend in the whole world has been hiding her secret kink from me.”

“I said, drop it.” You clench your fists in a feeble attempt to ward off the humiliation. “We’re not fucking, so it’s none of your business what any of my secret kinks are.”

“Kinks? As in more than one? Oh, do go on.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, but it fades when he sees your eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears. “Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all have things that turn us on. Even pure, chaste, little ol’ me.”

Now that makes you laugh. “Okay, Mr. Celibacy over here…tell me one of yours. It’s only fair.”

“I think it would just have you clutching your pearls, Miss Good Girl.” He winces when you give his ankle a playful kick, but he obliges. “Fine, fine.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I like the idea of corrupting a girl. Sweet thing getting ruined by a freak like me.”

“You don’t get enough of that shit talk from the meatheads at school?” Idiots like Jason Carver seem to have a never-ending list of insulting nicknames for him, with Freak being their go-to. 

Eddie shakes his head, frizzy brown curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, this is different. I don’t want to be called a freak. I just think the idea of a nice, innocent girl wanting me to corrupt her is hot.”

“Like…a good girl?” You’re trying to replicate his teasing tone from earlier, but it comes out more salacious. You bite your tongue, though the words have already escaped your lips. 

Eddie just chuckles, somehow oblivious to your gaffe. “All right, well played. Laugh it up so we can call it even.”

You unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a pill, washing it down with the water you keep next to your bed. “But, Eds, I took my medicine! See?” You stick out your tongue with an exaggerated aaahh. “Just like a good girl.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow; he’s not sure how to interpret the situation. To be honest, neither do you. “Don’t play this game with me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Because you get to forget all about this, while I’m stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

He nods. “Plenty of experience.” He rubs his sweaty palm along his denim-clad thigh, his eyes never leaving your body. 

“Lucky for you, good girls don’t let their best friend walk around with blue balls, do they?” This is it. It’s now or never. You walk over to the bed and straddle his waist, pressing your hands to his chest. His heart is beating a mile a minute. 

Any semblance of self-control is gone as Eddie hisses, “They certainly fuckin’ don’t.” His lips crash against yours in a hungrily, sloppy kiss. His palms are on either side of your face as he holds you impossibly close. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s grinding up against you, creating a delicious friction between your thighs.  

Eddie wraps a strong arm around your waist and lowers you down to the mattress. Lips never leaving yours, his hands slip up the inside of your shirt, his rough calloused fingers causing goosebumps to break out along your skin. When you’re forced to break apart for air, you take the opportunity to yank your shirt off over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Eddie copies your motions, so when he leans back in this time, your bra is the only material between your two chests. 

“So pretty,” Eddie mumbles as his kisses move down to your jaw. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast through your black cotton bra. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words have you whining and arching your back. It forces your chest even more into Eddie’s hand, which has him smirking as he runs his nose up to your ear. He places a soft kiss there before reaching down for the button of your jeans.

“You really do like it when I call you that, huh? Tell me, baby, did you ever think about me calling you that before? Lay here at night with your hand between your legs, picturing me calling you my good little girl?”

An almost pornographic moan slips from your lips as he speaks, and you’re barely able to concentrate on lifting your hips up enough for him to pull your jeans and panties off. 

“Wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, face heating up at the admission. “Just f’you.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Eddie coos, leaning to capture your lips in another soft, slow kiss. Your hands slide down his pale chest until they rest on the handcuff buckle belt that you’ve stared at so many times, always wondering what it would be like to take it off of him. 

“Pants off, Eds,” you say.

“Excuse me?” he says against your mouth. “What was that?”

A small whine tumbles from your lips before you squeak out, “Pants off, please, Eddie.”

“Much better,” Eddie says with a wicked grin. “That’s how good girls get what they want. Take your bra off, baby. I want to see all of you.”

Reaching behind your back to unhook the garment, your eyes never leave Eddie’s form as he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. All the times you’d imagined Eddie naked in your bed…they didn’t do the real thing justice. He’s long and wider than you expected, and even more mouthwatering than you could’ve hoped for. 

“Staring, huh?” Eddie says and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you even look up to see it confirmed on his face. “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

“‘S bigger than I imagined,” you admit shyly. “Need—I mean, can you please use your fingers first?” 

Eddie nods, running his pointer and middle fingers through your wet folds before pushing them inside you. “Aw, y’already soaked for me, baby? Barely even touched you.” He continues fingering you as he nips at your earlobe. “Y’sure you’ll be able to take my cock, pretty girl?”

The nicknames have your head spinning. “Y-yes, sir,” you choke out, whimpering when he stops moving his thick digits. 

“Well, shit,” he says with a small chuckle. “Looks like you’ve unlocked a kink I didn’t even know I had.” He looks deep into your eyes as he orders, “call me ‘sir’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you manage, feeling his thumb making slow circles over your clit. “Anything f’you. I’m a good girl f’you, sir.”

Eddie growls as he slides down so his nose is level with your sex. “Not a good girl. You’re my good girl.” 

“Your good girl. Only yours, fuck!” You yelp loudly as he starts sucking on your swollen bud, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. Your legs tremble, which he takes as a sign to lap at your pussy with more vigor. “R-right there, sir. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop, sir.” You sound pathetic, but it’s working for both of you. 

You feel the pressure mounting in your core as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming, holy fucking shit, I’m fucking cumming—” But just as the coil begins to snap, he pulls away from you, chin shiny with your slick. 

“What the fuck?”

“Ah ah,” Eddie chides. “Good girls wait so we can cum together.” He spits on his hard cock, fucking into his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Y’okay?” he asks, pushing the tip in only after you give him a resounding yes. The feeling of him inside you is one of ecstasy, and you wrap your legs around his to pull him impossibly closer. No one has ever filled you the way he has; no one has ever stretched you so deliciously. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he buries himself within your walls. “I-I mean, sir, y’feel…fuck…feel s’good.”

“Me?” Eddie laughs incredulously as he continues thrusting into you. “No, baby. Nothing compares to how good you fuckin’ feel. Nice an’ tight, aren’t you, angel?”

The new nickname sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you bite your lip as you squeak out an agreement. 

“Tell me, my sweet girl,” Eddie growls, cock twitching within you, “what would your friends think if they knew the freak was balls deep in your pussy right now?”

You can only moan in response, and Eddie beams at your apparent wordlessness. 

“Fucked the words right out of you? Cute little head of yours can only think about my cock, hm?”

“Feels…feels…” You wrack your brain for any descriptors for the waves rippling through your body, but you come up empty-handed; rather, empty-headed. 

Eddie’s all-too amused by this, pistoning his hips as he beckons, “Come on; good girls use their words. How’s it feel, baby?”

“So good, Eds. Y’make me feel so good.” It’s barely two sentences, but it placates him. 

“Aw, you like the way my cock makes you feel?” A sneer crosses his face. “Like when the freak’s cock splits you open? How about when I do this?”

Before you can register his words, he’s bringing his thumb to your already overstimulated clit and rubs it while fucking you. “I know you like that, angel. Can feel you getting tighter around me. Fuck, anyone make you feel this good before?”

“N-No, just you,” you manage, another wanton moan escaping your lips. 

“Good girl, using her words f’me.” Your pussy clenches at the praise, spurring Eddie on further. “Just wanna wreck you. No one else can have you but me.”

“Only yours,” you slur in your cock drunk state. Every nerve in your body feels alive as Eddie pounds into you. Your eyes flutter closed so when Eddie leans down and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples, it surprises you. “Oh!”

“Can’t forget about these gorgeous tits, baby girl,” Eddie purrs. “They deserve some love as well.” He laves his tongue up and down the swell of your breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. A new decibel of a whimper leaves your throat, and it has Eddie smirking around the hardened bud in his mouth. 

Your hand comes up and tangles in Eddie’s hair, fingers ever so lightly digging into his scalp as he gives your nipple a particularly harsh suck. He pulls off with a pop, hips still pounding into yours vigorously. The motion of your bodies causes your bed to shake and your headboard to bang repeatedly and obnoxiously against the wall. 

Eddie gives the same attention to your other breast, exploring the soft skin with his tongue and lips before ravishing your nipple. It only adds to the intense pressure that’s already built up in your core.

“Ed—Sir, please. I need—”

His teeth grazing your nipple has your sentence ending with a strangled gasp. 

“I know what you need, baby,” Eddie coos, leaning up to hover his face over yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting the freak use your tight little pussy. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you whine, practically a sob. “S-Sir?”

“What is it, princess?” Eddie asks, teeth clenched as he tries to stave off his impending orgasm. 

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growls. It takes him a second to regain enough composure to be able to respond. “Yeah? That’s what my good girl wants? To have the freak’s cum deep inside of her? Want to feel it dripping out of you and down your legs? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up nice and good.”

Eddie bucks his hips a few more times before he cums, fucking his spend up into you with primal groans. “Take it—fuck, take my cum. Jus’ like a good girl.” He doesn’t stop until he’s soft and panting, flopping onto your chest without daring to pull out. 

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths and relishing in the post-sex glow. A post-sex glow that you’re sharing with your best friend. Your best friend, Eddie Munson, just had his dick inside you while you called him ‘sir’ and he called you ‘good girl.’

“Um, Eddie?” you manage, and he lifts his head as he finally withdraws and lays down next to you. “What…what exactly did we just do?”

“Well, when two people love each other…” He starts to tease you, but his face blanches when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean, like, as friends…”

“Right. When two people really love each other as friends, they discover each other’s kinks and have mind-blowing sex.” 

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. “Mind-blowing, huh? You know that flattery works with me.”

“‘M serious,” you say, trying to redirect the conversation back to your original thought. “Where do we go from here?”

He considers this, tongue poking out between his lips in contemplation. “I’m spent; you wore me out with your insatiable appetite for lust.” He chuckles as you flip him off. “So I say we take a nap, and when we wake up, we can see what other kinks we wanna explore.”

“What other kinks do you have?” You rest your head on his chest and snuggle in as he wraps a protective arm around you, kissing the top of your head. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he taunts, yawning as he says it. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fic

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

#indy: one shots #ch: bruce #batman one shot #batman smut #batman x reader #batman x f!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #batman x you smut #batman x reader smut #batman x f!reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman fanfiction #batman fic #batman imagine #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc comics smut #dc comics x reader #dc comics x you

[mvltisstuff]

how to never stop being sad - e.b

summary: bucks parents believe they can just forget what they put him through as a child, but y/n won’t let them.

evan buckley x reader.

og gif

a/n: i realized that buck found out about daniel way later than i thought… my image was the dinner for buck begins, and then my dumb brain thought he knew abt daniel for a while 😭 just pretend he knew while you read :))

bucks mother and father somehow think that evan doesn’t remember everything they did. they think he doesn’t care about every scream, every argument, every neglectful moment between him and his sister. but, really, buck remembers all of it.

he loves his parents and he always has, but he doesn’t understand why they make it so hard to like them. he craved love and affection from them, only to be met with their hand in his face and their words in his mind. he knows all about grief, it makes you a different person. he feels awful for his parents, but he wishes they could deal with it better than leave him in the dust.

on a brighter side, buck was finally able to stop begging for adoration. when y/n came into that station, his entire purpose was changed around. he knew he was made for loving her, and he was finally accepted. buck finally felt smart, loved, important to someone.

y/n left a mark on buck from the moment they met. he could tell by her bubbly but confident personality that they’d fit together like stars in the sky. whenever y/n was around, he never once felt like he was asking for the compliments or love she showered him with. she looked genuinely proud to call him her boyfriend, and it melted the heart of the little kid inside of him that just wanted someone to tell him that he was important.

she gave him everything his parents never did and she never once complained. y/n have buck a definition of love, and when someone asked him what it meant, he’d say her name.

now, even years after they’ve been dating, y/n never once spoke to bucks parents. maddie had told them he was in a healthy, happy relationship, but they never cared to check in on him. the days had drastically changed, along with the life of his sister.

she’s becoming a mother, so their parents are becoming grandparents. y/n didn’t really think it would be a problem that they came to visit, until it quickly backfired.

buck quickly realized that they weren’t here for him, and they he barely existed in their book. he hoped that maybe he was overthinking it, but noticed the lack of care they had of his life and the severe amount of judgement in their words. it’s like when they walked in the door, buck felt like the small boy standing at the top of the stairs for his parents again, or the teenager sitting at the table taking every insult they had.

their parents pulled out maddie’s “baby box”, but they must’ve left bucks at home to collect dust, if there was even anything to leave. they crazed over maddies belly and the life she was carrying, praising her for the life she had built for herself. buck just sat there, just wanting to go home and lay in y/n’s arms and get his own comforting.

the night of the dinner came rapidly, buck critiquing everything about himself in the mirror before he went, perfecting his words and his appearance before y/n came grabbing his hand. “it’ll be ok.”

“i know, it’s just been so long and i don’t want them to be rude to you, too,” buck sighs, turning to face y/n.

“they don’t hurt me, you know that. i just don’t want you to get upset.”

“let’s get this over with, yeah? and then we can come home?”

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

y/n and buck arrived soon after his parents, seeing them stand from off the couch with his mothers hands clasped together in front of her. maddie pulls y/n into her grasp from not seeing her due to a busy schedule. chimney and buck hug casually, even though they’d just seen each other. he notices his parents standing there, looking at y/n as she cautiously steps over.

“oh, mom, dad, this is y/n,” buck tells them, his hand landing on her waist. “my girlfriend.”

“it’s nice to meet you guys.” y/n says, exchanging awkward glances with his parents. they nod politely.

“y/n, we got your favorite!” maddie grins, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and looking at it long-fully. y/n laughs, walking over to take the bottle from her as they converse.

“maddie, i’ll make the table for you, sweetie.” their mother says, grabbing plates and napkins for everyone as she starts placing them by the seats.

“here, mom, i’ll help you,” buck says, offering a hand to his mother as y/n stands besides his father.

“so, y/n,” the tall man with the glasses speaks. “what do you do for work?” he asks, sipping his beer.

“oh, i work at the fire station with b-evan and howie.” she remembers the little things, the dislike of nicknames and how buck and maddie never had one. y/n can see the slight disappointment in her fathers face, but can’t quite place why.

“i see.” he says, his voice raising slightly but she can tell he’s slightly unimpressed. y/n just keeps pouring wine into her glass. maddie can already sense the tension, silently cursing her dad for the reaction he had.

“dad.” maddie whispers so buck doesn’t hear.

“yes, maddie?” he questions back, not understanding his tone toward the woman besides him that he’s known for twenty minutes.

“nothing, it’s fine.”

“hey, honey,” buck whispers in y/n’s ear, placing his hands on the counter in front of him.

“hi! how are you feeling?”

“i’m fine, it’s only been like a half hour.”

“i know, just checking in.” she places a hand on his cheek, making maddie smile at the affection she has toward buck.

the food had eventually been delivered, and everyone sat around the table to finally eat. buck pulled out y/n’s chair, letting her sit and then taking the one next to her. chimney sat with maddie, and then their parents took the other end of the table.

the conversation turned almost immediately into the subject of work, maddie talking about some of her calls and chimney speaking about paramedic duties. it seemed they had no interest about buck, not finding much impression in the details about his job, despite it being one of the strongest.

“well, speaking of hospitals, i’ve heard that evan has been spending a lot of time in them.” bucks dad speaks up, placing his napkin folded on the table.

“you’ve heard?” buck mutters under his breath, not wanting to cause a scene but secretly hoping they heard it. y/n could feel the burning tension between buck and his parents, so she ran his hand over his thigh, trying to find his hand that rested near his knee before locking fingers with him. “you could’ve seen for yourself.”

“oh, evan you know how-“

“you don’t like hospitals, got that.”

“i don’t like seeing my children in them.” the womans eyes start to water, thinking back to all the horrific times in the hospital. maddie mumbles to her mother before shaking her head, bringing her moms statement to a close. “we never lost hope on you, evan.”

“yeah, like you did on maddie?” he snaps, leaning back in his seat and staring down his parents.

“evan, let’s not do this.” maddie says, the discomfort clear in her face as everyone’s heart races, fearing the conflict in the room.

“you guys didn’t even go to her wedding, let alone go back for her when she made a mistake and you cut her off!”

their parents barely look at buck. “maddie, we didn’t know he was hurting you, i swear-“

“you should have! you should’ve known, but it checks out because you never knew what was going on even when we was living with you!” he stands up.

“buck, c’mon,” y/n speaks, attempting his hand before he gets too far away. he manages to slip out of her grasp, leaving her to rest her head in her hands as he continues.

“you think my job is dangerous- i have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you. that is why i’m in therapy! because nothing i ever did was good enough!”

“we tried! you guys didn’t make it easy on us” their dad speaks up, making y/n shoot her head up at the older couple at the table next to her.

“we were supposed to? we were kids.” maddie says sadly.

so, buck stands there, begging for love in the center of the room, feeling like a circus act. if he didn’t know better, he’d think they’d all be pointing and laughing at him. besides one. y/n sat there, staring at his parents before looking back at him. she stands up, letting buck try and grab her hand and walk out. if he wants to leave, she will always follow him.

he opens the door, and he steps out, unable to hear the next sentence from his mother.

“neither of you think about how hard it is for your father and i! you only think about yourselves!”

y/n stops in her tracks, “buck, go wait by the car i’ll be out in a minute.” he just goes out, not wanting to waste another minute in that room that he could be spending alone with y/n. “only think about themselves?”

“what?” their mother whimpers out.

“you’re insinuating that you have selfish children, and it honestly checks out considered how much you’ve missed. did you forget what your kids do? did you forget about the lives they save on a daily basis? maddie is the reason half of our calls come out successfully, and buck is one of the highest ranked for his position. and you want to call him selfish? you don’t get to call him anything until you take an actual look at his life. you don’t see him walk out of these buildings with scared and hurt children or people yelling in pain and he can somehow manages to give them hope! you don’t see the effect you have on him and it honestly breaks my heart for him. you don’t see how you casually ripped him up and expected other people to put him back together. you don’t deserve to just come back here and act like you’re completely innocent! you sit here and act like you are angels. truth is that evan did everything on his own and didn’t deserve the shit he got from you. the person he is today has nothing to do with you and you don’t get any credit for how he became the man he is.”

y/n doesn’t stay long enough to see the effect of her words on his parents. she can imagine the tears from the confrontation that their mother can’t handle. it infuriates her that they think they can fix the damage they did in a day, if they even think they did any.

she storms down the stairs, eager to see buck outside and make up for all the loving he missed previously. she sees him leaning against y/n’s passenger door, staring at the concrete with his arms crossed. his hair is lightly blowing in the wind along with his sweater being pressed against his body. y/n can see the subtle shimmering in his eyes as he looks at the ground and she can almost hear the cracks in his heart. it’s like they managed to add another wound to him, just confirming that they didn’t care about him.

y/n steps on the cement sidewalk toward him, her heels clicking loudly against the ground so he could hear her coming. he doesn’t look up. he keeps his eyes glued to the ground in almost a shameful way. he hates that he can’t stand up to his parents, and he hates that y/n had to do it for him, but he needed it.

“let’s go home, baby.” y/n says, standing at the front of the car. “buck.” she speaks his name again, anger still radiating off her body as she waits for him to look up at him. his head tilts up, looking at her as her gaze softens at his expression. she doesn’t hesitate to walk over and grab onto him, letting his body fall into her, taking some of the weight off his shoulders.

“i know, it’s ok.” she whispers into his ear sweetly as the tears run down his face. he doesn’t want to be sobbing in the parking lot with in his girlfriends arms, but he can’t help it.

he doesn’t bother to say anything, he just lets himself feel. he lets himself feel her hand rubbing his back and the other wrapped around his shoulders. he lets himself listen to the gentle words escaping her lips and allow them to soothe his mind. he lets himself tower over her and almost fall into her grasp and he lets her take over. he knows that she has him, and the safety net beneath him was built by her.

he might not have his parents support or their faith through his life, but the surplus that y/n gives to him is enough to fill every ocean in the world.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #maddie buckley #may grant #911 chimney #chimney 911 #evan buckley x you #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buckley fic #evan buckley 911 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x female reader #buck x reader #buck 911 #911 fic #911 show #911 fanfic

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 15

Part 1 Part 14

“Demogorgon?” Eddie demands. “That thing does not look like a Demogorgon!”

He can feel himself unraveling. He and Steve are barely unraveling and now they’re supposed to keep this kid alive somehow? They’d planned to fuck off and die of starvation, but now there’s a fucking kid in the mix, they’re going to have to fight that thing again and figure out a way to get out of this mess alive.

“What’s a demo—”

“It’s a D&D monster, Steve.” He’s being too loud, and he realizes it even before Will shrinks back, looking between Eddie, and Steve, and the door, like he can’t figure out which one is more of a threat.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Steve says, like a jackass. Will smiles hesitantly over at him.

“It is not cool, Sir Steven,” he hisses, keeping his voice down this time. “That is not what a Demogorgon looks like, and in cause you’ve forgotten, it tried to eat you! What about that is cool?”

Steve holds his hands up, palms forward like he’s trying to calm a spooked horse. “Alright, man. Ease up,” he says. “Let’s just sit down and like, talk this out.”

As if to demonstrate the act of sitting, he folds himself gracefully to the ground, legs crossed in his usual sitting position. Eddie hates him just a little. But Will sits too, knees to his chest, arms locked around them, so Eddie slides off the couch and joins them.

“Why do you think it’s a Demo-whatever?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes as both Will and Eddie correct him in unison. “Yeah, Demogorgon, whatever.”

“I rolled a three,” Will says. “In the game. I rolled a three, and it got me. And then it got me in real life.”

Steve reaches out, patting the kid’s ankle. “Are you hurt?” Steve asks.

Will holds out his palms. They’re scrapped, a little bloody on the heels, but not too bad. Kid’s faired better than they have, that’s for sure.

“Just these,” Will says. “I fell off my bike.”

Without getting up, Steve stretches out to grasp the handle of his backpack, pulling it toward him. He pulls out their meager first aid supplies, even though the blood looks old and dried. He scoots forward on his butt until his knees knock into Will, and then he holds out his hand.

It takes a few loaded seconds, but Will puts one of his hands into Steve’s. Steve holds it up to his eyes, hemming and hawing over the minor cuts like they’re battle wounds.

Then the best thing happens – Will Byers laughs. Is Steve Harrington good with kids? Eddie is going to lose it.

“I think you’ll live,” Steve says, wiping the dried blood and dirt from his hands with one of the few remaining wet wipes, careful of the scabs. He pats them dry with the hem of his shirt before gently securing bandages across them. “There,” he says, with a private little smile. “Good as new.”

Will smiles up at him, cheeks pinkening in a way Eddie empathizes with. If Steve Harrington tenderly cared for his wounds, he’d disintegrate and blow away on the wind.

“Now what?” Will asks, looking around at his surroundings curiously, as if he only just realized he’d followed two strangers to an unknown location. “Where are we?"

Eddie jumps up, bowing theatrically. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

A small, competitive voice in the back of his head crowed in delight when he made Will laugh this time. Screw you, Steve Harrington. He was going to be this kid’s favorite.

“We should compare intel,” Steve says, like someone who’d watched too many James Bond movies before his brain was fully developed. But they do.

Steve and Eddie take turns describing a kid-friendly version of what they’d been through. The raging party turns into a small get-together, sans drugs and alcohol. The “Demogorgon” attack in the alleyway involves not injuries, and it never broke into Steve’s house at all.

They don’t mention the lack of food, but Eddie begins sifting the water when it becomes clear Will hasn’t had a drink in a while. He doesn’t let the kid see the residue left on the shirt that had once been in the water he’s now greedily gulping down.

Steve’s fidgeting, straightening, and recrossing is legs periodically as they wait for Will to finish drinking and catch his breath.

“And you?” Steve asks, when he finally lowers the bottle, wiping the water that’d dribbled down onto his chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

“I saw it in the woods,” he starts, handing the bottle back to Eddie and pulling his knees back up to his chest. “It made me crash my bike.”

“And it got you?” Steve asks, quiet and gentle.

Will shakes his head. “I made it home, but no one was there, and all the lights were flickering. So, I went to the shed, and I got Lonny’s gun. And—” he swallows, voice sounding thick. “I shot it, but it took me here anyway.”

“How long have you been here?” Eddie asks.

Will shrugs, less like he doesn’t want to say, and more like he doesn’t know. “My Mom’s looking for me though.”

Eddie’s jealous of that level of faith in a parent. He swallows it down, says, “of course she is.”

Will shakes his head, hair flying with the force of it. “No, you don’t get it,” he says, adamant. “I’m not just saying that. I talked to her.”

Eddie’s eyes shift to Steve’s face, sees the same skepticism he feels reflected back, hope it doesn’t show on his face quite as much. Okay,” he says, drawling the word out past its usual thresholds, “how?”

“With the phone in the kitchen. I called and she answered,” Will replies. There are tears running down his face now. “She sounded so worried.”

“…what did she say?” Steve asks. He’s picking at his cuticles again. Eddie wants to reach over and grab his hand. He doesn’t.

“She said she’d find me,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came.”

There’s silence for a minute besides Will’s quiet crying. Steve scoots closer to him, nudging their knees together companionably.

He meets Eddie’s gaze, something that looks alarmingly like hope shining in his eyes. “You got a phone in here, Munson?”

Part 16

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

[hyunnie04]

muse

hwang hyunjin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: you can't decide what to give hyunjin for his birthday. a/n: very self indulgent theme/fic!! i like to draw myself so i thought i'd write about it for his birthday :> i apologize for being a bit late, irl obligations have been kicking my ass lately i'm sorry my hyune but i hope you guys like it! T-T

march was a month full of new beginnings. the year was only starting, january and february flying by like a breeze. remnants of winter still clung in the air and on the branches of the trees, pillowing them with the softness of white snow. it was also getting warmer, the chill no longer having its harsh bite and welcoming the inevitable pinks and greens of spring to come. and for you, new beginnings also meant taking on projects that you never thought you would be able to do. 

hyunjin's birthday was only a few days away, just a little less than a week from now.

you've spent the entire afternoon in a panic after the realization, racking your brain for any ideas, thinking what you could possibly do for his present only to come up empty handed. buying a gift for him is certainly the easier option and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, seeing as hyunjin was the type of person to appreciate whatever you give him, be it big or small, expensive or not. it was just the matter of wanting to surprise him with a gift that he most likely doesn’t already have.   

you sigh and rest your head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling in thought. your eyes silently wander towards the painting that hung on the wall of your tiny apartment.

it was painted by hyunjin himself, a bouquet of your favorite flowers that he had given you for your own birthday. you always loved staring at it, earning a place in your favorite corner of the room.

you often stare at it, delving into the intricacies of each brush stroke, how the colors come together in harmony, the symbolism and sentimentality behind it all, and just how much love was poured into making it. hyunjin truly had a talent in capturing the likeness and essence of his subjects, even the simplest ones.

it was almost tradition, how he makes his closest family and friends paintings when it was their birthday or when there was a special occasion. he used his oil paints that you've become familiar with, the dozens of tubes and pots of color messily strewn all across his little studio back at his dorm.

it was a such thoughtful gesture, painting that was. taking his time out of his day to make something out of nothing, showing that he truly cared about the person. whenever you would visit him on his days off, he was always immersed in his craft. adept fingers swiping over charcoal, hands dipping into paint, a sight you always love seeing. you still remember the photo you took secretly of him in his studio, blissfully painting the night away.

you drum your hands on the arm rest, returning to brainstorm for ideas, still in deep thought. and then it all suddenly clicked. 

you have always admired hyunjin and his work, so why not make him one in return? 

he was always giving others gorgeous pieces of art, he certainly deserved to have his own. you were no picasso and certainly no hyunjin, but the act of gift giving has always been your favorite way of showing your love.

you had a basic grasp of how the medium was used, having watched hyunjin more than enough times. the techniques he had taught you during one of your art sessions together might come in handy as well. the one and only problem was that it left you with such little time to finish it. oh well, it was better to start late than never.

the next day, you picked up and gathered the necessary materials from the art supply shop you knew hyunjin frequented, recognizing the different kinds of paints, sizes and types of canvases, and brushes that he likes to use. you laid them out on your living room floor upon arriving home, finally starting on your little project. 

the remainder of the days leading up to his birthday were spent awake during ungodly hours into the night, full of endless trials and errors, scrapped ideas and tons of caffeine. your living room became your makeshift studio, a tarp laid down the center to catch the unavoidable mess you surely would be making. learning a completely different and unfamiliar medium from what you were used to was difficult, but you were determined and your mind was set.

-

hyunjin was getting worried. it had been a few days since he last saw you, nonetheless heard anything. he understood that the two of you were quite busy people, not always finding the time to talk. but after five missed calls and maybe a dozen texts over the span of two days and no reply? he was ill at ease.

maybe he was overreacting, but he knew that you would've at least sent something to acknowledge his texts. he decided to ask his friends about your whereabouts, asking if anyone had contact with you, only earning head shakes in return.

"have you tried going to their place?" chan asks the ravenette, leaning his back on the dance practice room’s mirrored walls. hyunjin huffs, mouth forming into a slight pout, shaking his head no. practice was getting more challenging as the comeback and schedules started to pile up, his attendance becoming crucial.

"you can go later, we don't have anything scheduled for tomorrow." his hyung removes his cap, fluffing his curls underneath. hyunjin breathes out a sigh of relief, sending him a quick thank you.

the older of the two nods in understanding, reaching a hand out to hyunjin upon standing on his feet. back to practice they went.

it was the night before his birthday. getting stubborn paint off your brushes was the worst, is what you've learned these past several days of non-stop painting. even with the appropriate solvent, the paint can and is still clinging stubbornly onto its fibers; leaving you in the bathroom sink to scrub them tediously under soap and some warm water.

your hands start to ache with all the scrubbing, perhaps growing tired as well from the painting, but you'd like to think that the momentary pain was worth it. the composition of it was finally starting to come together. the work flow became easier once you figured out a concept and a theme you were happy with, inspiration and motivation coming in effortlessly now. it only needed some last few touches, you could only hope he would like it as much as you ended up liking it too.

after the brushes were cleaned to the best of your abilities, you pat them dry, leaving them on the counter for the time being.

"y/n? are you home?" your hands still at the sound of the front door opening. it was undeniably hyunjin's voice. 

you and hyunjin lived apart despite dating for quite a long while. it was a mutual agreement that it would be more convenient for the two of you to live separately, his job requiring him to live closer to his place of work. you gave him a spare key so he could come by whenever he liked, but you didn’t expect him at all to drop by today.

you originally thought nothing of it for a moment, even brushing it off. but then the panic started to set in. he would see it right away, the canvas sitting right in front of the living room with no cloth to cover it. if you go out now, you might have a chance of covering it up before he finds out.

rushing out of the bathroom after wiping your hands dry, you've quickly noticed how it had suddenly gone quiet. you peak around the corner, seeing him standing idly in the middle of your living room, still unaware of your presence.

it was too late. you see the familiar ebony locks greet you upon arriving. his mouth practically hanging open as he stares at the easel facing him, winter coat slung heavily on his left arm.

"surprise?" you flush upon seeing his head whip towards your figure, leaned against the arch of the doorway. it was also a little embarrassing, not having the time to clean up. 

"is...that me?" he says in quiet disbelief. you can’t quite decipher if his reaction was good or bad but you nod, coming up to stand beside him. he stares at the canvas once more, no doubt taking in the details of it. you start to feel a little anxious under his gaze, silently wondering if he likes it. 

"it's not done yet, that's why it looks a little rough." you pause, hesitation lacing your voice. he would eventually find out, having already seen it. “it was supposed to be your surprise birthday present.” is what you ended up saying, speech meek and low, barely audible. 

his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he turns his eyes back to you. a noticeable redness staining his cheeks.

“wow,” he breathes out, tilting his head closer to gaze on the finer details. hyunjin pauses for a moment before replying. “this is beautiful.” his voice light, feathery. his fingertips, slender and lithe, hovering above as if to trace it. relief washed over you hearing him say it, your nerves easing and cheeks warming in return.

“you think so?” you purse your lips before smiling gratefully at him, noting the masking tape still plastered on its borders and small parts of it still unblended but thank him earnestly nonetheless. 

“i figured since you always make people art on their birthday," you took to move to the couch, the ache in your body starting to take its toll. "i thought i'd give back and make you one too." 

hyunjin was, in short- moved. the portrait was of him sitting in his art studio, the sun falling and spilling on his form peaking through the windows. although his elegantly curved back was turned and it was impossible to see his face, it was unmistakable that it was him.

he was truly not expecting anything, he was just happy with the prospect of just being with you on his special day. the thoughtfulness, sentimentality, and affection that came with making gifts with him in mind, he didn’t think it was possible to love you more than he already did. his eyes are lost in yours, the contours of his handsome face highlighted by the dim lights of your living room.

“i know it's bad but-”

hyunjin doesn’t let you continue, pulling you into a sudden kiss, throwing his coat on the couch haphazardly. your immediate response was to wrap your hands around his neck, hands wandering up and towards his hair. you could feel his smile on his mouth as he kisses you, grabbing the nape of your neck to steady your form. the kiss is intoxicating, feeling the love upon his soft movements, his warmth contrasting the chill from outside.

when he parts from you, he’s giddy, and jumping around like the happiest ferret you’ve ever seen. the wisps of hair fall to his temple, framing his beautiful face. “thank you, darling.”

“even if it’s not done yet- i love it,” he presses another kiss to the side of your mouth. “so much.” you could only laugh in response, completely flustered and enamored by his reaction.

hyunjin pulls you towards his chest, both arms locking around your shoulders. you could smell the perfume he always likes to wear. “is this why you weren’t picking up your phone?”

“my phone?” you pat your pockets in search, only to find it missing. your mind must’ve slid away, not knowing at all where it was but you could search for it later. “oh, yeah. m’ sorry.” the apology is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he hums, his worries fading. you thought he was going to let you go, but he retaliates by resuming to press more kisses into you.

“okay, okay! thank you. i’m glad you like it.” you untangle his long arms from your body in order to stand up while hyunjin watches you do so, curiosity in his eyes. you already miss the warmth he radiated. 

“but, technically-” you start by grabbing the easel and placing it near the wall and out of his view, grabbing the stray tubes of paint off the floor and putting them away in their basket. “it’s still not your birthday.”

his plump lips form into a pout as he continues to watch you clean up. “and i’m not quite done with it yet so you have to wait.” placing a quick ‘boop’ to his nose, you head to the bathroom to freshen up for bed.

hyunjin checks his wrist watch as he follows you suit, his white teeth poking out. his arms catch you once again, wrapping you from behind. "it's 12."

amused by his antics, you let out another laugh before turning around in his hold to face him again, pressing a kiss on his soft lips.”in that case, i’ill finish it as soon as possible and-”

"happy birthday, my dearest."

-

please reblog or leave a comment if you like my work! it motivates me to keep writing ♡ all works are written by hyunnie04, please do not repost on other sites.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type Pt. 2

(The look on Steve’s face when he realizes what your doing 😭)

Part 1 Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Your night couldn’t get any better.

Warnings: sub!bucky, no explicit smut, but suggestive themes.

Tags: @mereptt @mcira @blackhawkfanatic @misz-adrii @f-1-refly @bbhaughen

You couldn’t feel your legs. They were completely numb from the cold. Steve showed no signs of even having a chill. Meanwhile you were reduced to hobbling one leg after the other, only 5 blocks in.

Focusing on the walk, and keeping your breath even; so Steve doesn’t notice how winded you were, sobered you even more than the cold. You now realized your situation. Confidence boost drained as soon as Bucky was out of sight.

You’re grateful when traffic causes you to stop at a crosswalk. You bury your arms under each other and try to stay warm in place. Steve noticed you shivering 10 minutes ago. He didn’t have a jacket to give you so he knew making it home was the best option for warmth.

He didn’t expect to stop, and have a moment to do something about it. He quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his full body against you. Your legs were still cold but he provided more than enough heat to warm you. You didn’t mind that no words were shared between you the whole walk, he didn’t seem to either, still smiling when you made it back home.

Climbing the stairs to your door, you search for words to say. Are you both seriously going through with this? Did Steve mean it? Sweat was forming on your palms, you noticed when your keys almost slipped out of your grasp, or maybe it was the trembling.

“I-“ you begin, instantly being cut off. “We should talk, inside.” He says, and your heart drops. He regrets it, of course he does, that’s your luck. You knew it was too good to be true. “No need, I get it.” You say, dropping your head.

“I just can’t do this to Bucky.” he says, sitting down on your couch when you made it inside. You were confused, you thought you were doing this because of Bucky. “What?” Him not being into you was less confusing.

Steve sighs, “I like you, and I wouldn’t mind making you forget all about some asshole at a bar.” Your cheeks flush, you knew he meant fucking you till all you could think about was him. “If that asshole wasn’t Bucky, and I didn’t know just how much he really does care about you.”. Oh.

“Let me get this straight, you’re defending him now?” You stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. He has to look up to you. “Don’t stand there like that and yell at me, it only makes me want you more. It’s making this harder than it has to be.” You scoff, “Okay Steve, my brain is literally going to explode if you don’t start talking.” You sit down on your coffee table, letting your knees brush his.

As if this is harder for him. You were dragged into a bar to embarrass yourself by friends that meant well. You found out your work crush wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot poll. You somehow told said crush off in an alley after kissing Captain America. Your night couldn’t get any more rough.

“I know he likes you, he might deny it, but I can see the way he looks at you. He has a weird way of showing it, I know. But tonight, I just kept pushing him and I know he regrets what he said. He’s just degrading you to cope with having actual feelings.” He now takes his turn to face the ground, not being able to meet your eye.

“The way he talked about you didn’t sit right with me. I was trying to show him that looks don’t matter, we looked pretty good pressed together in that alley, and I know he saw that.” He paused, thinking over his words.

“I do like you, I don’t want you thinking any different. But I don’t want to carry on with this if Bucky still has a chance, it wouldn’t be right.” You can tell how sincere he is being, and it has you already forgiving Bucky without even receiving an apology from the man himself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Steve.” You rub your sweaty palms on your bare knees. “I can’t just pretend like he never said that. I can see that how much your friendship means. It’s no hard feelings, really. But I wouldn’t put myself in a position where Bucky could hurt me again, if you paid me.” You laugh, getting fully used to douche bag guys.

Steve nods his head, understanding that you owe neither of the men a thing. “He would have to crawl in here on his hands and knees begging for a chance with fatty.” You shrug your shoulders, keeping your integrity.

“That could be arranged.” He smiles, breaking up the tension with dopey grin. You mentally face palm. “Go for it tiger, but I won’t be a part of it.” You give him a thumbs up, and suddenly you’re exhausted.

“Tonight’s obviously not happening, and I have to be in your office with everyone else in,” you squint at the clock on your microwave. “, 7 hours. So, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, leave my apartment Captain America.” You pat the side of his knee, reassuring him that you’re being lighthearted.

“Fine, but I will see you at 8 sharp.” He says, standing from the couch and making his way to your door. You follow behind him, needing to deadbolt it. “Why is he the way he is?” You blurt out, figuring Steve’s the only person who could answer that question.

“If you find out I’d love to know.” He throws his hands up. “People like to think I’m close to Bucky, but he never let anyone in after he was deprogrammed. Not even me, so I think he’s just having a hard time letting feelings for you in, his brain won’t let him.”.

“Why go after my weight?” You ask, as if Steve answers for him. He shrugs “Cause it was basic, and cliché. Made it seem like something was wrong with him, not you. I’ve tried to wrap my head around the new word, ‘fatphobia’ but I can’t, it seems like a personal problem that people project onto other heavier people.�� How was he real? Steve Rogers continues to amaze you with every word that falls from his lips.

When Steve opens the door you both come face to face with Bucky. Standing there, having followed you home. Staying a hundred yards back, watching your every move. He stood outside and heard every word shared between you and Steve.

He knew the only thing he could do to make it right. So he did, wordlessly dropping to his knees on your doorstep. “What are you doing here?” Steve tries to interject, but you press your hand to his chest, needing him to be quiet for a minute.

You can’t break eye contact with Bucky, unable to believe what he’s doing. His eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears. A smug smile falls on your lips and you pull Steve along with you as you walk backwards. Giving Bucky room to step into the house.

He leans forward, placing both palms on the carpeted entryway. Your hand on Steve’s chest can feel the shallow breaths he was taking. But you couldn’t think to hard about him right now, Bucky was crawling on his hands and knees towards you, with giant blue puppy dog eyes, that literally leaked with regret.

Once Bucky made it to your feet, he sat back on his heels, holding his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”, his eyes fill with more tears, “Everything Steve said was right.” He sighs, looking over to his friend.

“I don’t know how to let people in. I’m insecure, and possibly the dumbest man alive.” He reaches out and grasps your hand, needing you to feel his sincerity. His eyes set hard, having difficulty admitting the next part, “You scare the shit out of me.”.

You let out a laugh, breaking up the tension in the room. “I scare you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as loud as it did, but you were still upset. He nods, pressing his eyebrows together. “Yes.”. He comes closer to you, till his chest bumped against your knees. He held both hands now, “Please, forgive me, I’ll do anything. You’re the only person in this new world that makes me feel, anything. After I was deprogrammed, you were the only thing that felt normal, like home. Not Brooklyn, the past.” He takes your stoicism as an invitation to rest his hands on your thighs, wanting to physically connect with you while he rips himself open.

“The way you smelled of honeysuckles.” He presses his face against your stomach, inhaling deeply. “Red lipstick always on hand, making your smile brighter than any I’d ever saw. The way you walked up to me on your first day, so brave and confident. You remind me of home and it’s scary.”.

Your heart sank. This whole time, this is how he felt? All the harsh staring and denial was just, homesickness? You look down and feel yourself begin to feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. “I didn’t know.”.

Steve, who had stayed silent this whole time, face set in stone, finally speaks up. “No, you didn’t know. So don’t feel bad. Again, it’s his fault for being dumb.” He steps closer to the two of you, starting to feel possessive over you. He wasn’t going to let Bucky get by with a half hearted apology. He could tell he was holding something back.

“I don’t believe it, you’re scared of her because she’s perfect for you?” He squats down to Bucky’s level, trying to intimidate him. Bucky looks between you, not sure if he should answer him. You raise your brow, letting him know Steve peaked your interest.

“Everything I’ve ever known or loved is gone, relics of the past. I’m scared that you might go away too, if you got too close to me.”.

Steve was visibly hurt. Did he not remind Bucky of home? He’s known Bucky his whole life, why couldn’t he let him in? He knew Steve wasn’t going anywhere. The Captain stayed silent, knowing tonight was about the hurt Bucky caused you, not him. He would pay for Steve’s emotional wounds later.

Before he can plot anything in his mind he’s being pulled up from the floor by you. “What do you think his punishment ought to be, huh Stevie?” When he looked at your face all he could see was deviance. Playing along, he pinches his chin in thought. “Hmm, you know, I’d hate to leave without finishing what we started earlier.”. He spins you to face him, letting his hands find the curve of your ass.

“I like that idea.” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your raise yourself up on your tippy toes and kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You hear a whine from the floor beside you. Bucky’s face is red and you can tell he’s confused. “You sit there and be a good boy, then I’ll forgive you and maybe even let you touch me.”. You say, letting both Steve and Bucky know, you’re not the same person in the bedroom.

You loved degrading men. In your everyday life you might come across as sweet, unsuspecting, inexperienced. But you weren’t, there’s no shortage of men wanting a woman to dominate them. You’d never had the pleasure of using one this far out of your league.

Tonight, you were going to take advantage of it. Seeing Bucky crawl on his hands and knees lit a fire inside of you. You didn’t need to hear his apology at that point. Everything after it was pure showmanship. The performance of your life.

The morning came before you knew it. Your 7am alarm blaring through your studio apartment. Steve and Bucky left earlier, waking you up with goodbye kisses, but your foggy, half asleep brain barely registered that they left. You wore your hair down today, letting last nights curls be free. You didn’t opt for makeup, knowing the intense winter training would melt it off anyways.

When you make it to work, you see a lot of sunglasses. “Is everyone hungover?” You ask Natasha who’s nursing a black coffee. “Almost everyone.” She nods towards the two super soldiers standing behind Steve’s desk.

You blush when Steve gives you a wide smile, hoping no one in the office noticed. But of course Wanda senses the change in your footsteps and the buzzing reverberating off of you. She sits beside you in the semicircle of chairs, leaning over to whisper “I’m gonna need details.” She nudges her shoulder with yours, teasing you.

Before you could retaliate, Steve starts the debrief. “Winter training, gotta love it.” The whole room groans as Steve laughs. “I won’t keep you too long, I know you all have a long day ahead of you. But I like to think a good ole pep talk is the best thing for a team.”.

You roll your eyes. You liked Steve, but boss Steve was exhausting. You press your forehead on Wanda’s shoulder, you both hated this cringy kind of thing. “I’d like to remind you all why we train so vigorously. Teamwork. We all preform better together. We have to constantly be adapting to eachother, our strengths, and weaknesses.” He looks into each of your coworkers eyes, trying to drive his point.

“We change, just like the seasons, so pay special attention to your training partner today. They might teach you something new.” The inspirational speech was enough to have you wanting to go back home and go back to sleep, something you only received 3 hours of.

“Wanda, Sam, and Bruce, I want you guys down at the lake. Yelena, Natasha and Clint, go to the helipad, further instruction will be waiting.” He looks at the tablet infront of him, reading off bullet points.

“Y/N, Bucky and I are scheduled to be in the gym. Peter and Vision are already with Tony and Rhodes in the lab. Any questions?” He dismisses everyone after that. He changed it. So smoothly that no one noticed, you’d been scheduled to be at the lake with Wanda and Bruce. Of course Sam wouldn’t protest the change up, Steve just had to ask nicely.

When everyone shuffled out of the room, Wanda reminded you she wanted details over lunch later. Once everyone was gone you were suddenly aware that you were left alone with them. You were blinded by lust last night, not realizing the position you put yourself in. Were you with Bucky now? His confession was pretty serious. Were you with both of them? Was it a one night stand? Are they done with you now that they’ve had their fun? A million questions ran through your head while you waited by the door.

“Ready?” Bucky opens the door for you, ushering you into the hallway. You give him a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to interact with him not on his knees. You definitely weren’t the same person in the bedroom. Your regular self was awkward and embarrassingly nice at times. Would either of them still want you, once they see how different you could be?

They knew you before, and even liked you before. But now they have something else to base it off. Was your dominance too much for a long term thing with them? You have a feeling you’re about to find out, as you all pile into the small room with a wall of mirrors and elliptical.

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu #bucky x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #stucky x reader #sub!bucky #bucky barnes x plus size reader

[wheeboo]

insomniac | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon has trouble falling asleep. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. mentions of insomnia WORD COUNT. 1.2k

notes: just a random jihoon comfort drabble because he works so hard for us and deserves everything in the world <3

Jihoon can’t fall asleep.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for him, as he finds his days filled with exhausting schedules that easily wears him out, yet he spends his nights specifically to produce new music for the group. But as the rest of the world around him settled into deep slumber, Jihoon remained wide awake in those ungodly hours, fueled by nothing but the intensity of his creative passion.

He couldn’t tell if there was any reasoning behind it𑁋if there was a reason why his brain is so full of ideas that it can’t seem to just shut up and be quiet for once, so he feels the need to put it all down first until the wee hours of the night before having to force himself to sleep, which in itself doesn’t really do his body well. 

The cycle had started over a month ago𑁋that’s what he told you at least𑁋but time seemed to lose all meaning when he was in the zone. The days blurred together, punctuated only by the occasional meeting or performance. Jihoon couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's rest. His mind resembled a galaxy of inspiration, and he was just a mere person trying to capture its brilliance in sound.

Jihoon finds himself staring at his computer in front of him, eyes dry and a bit heavy, yet his mind is completely awake. It’s around three in the morning and he’s probably gotten up once or twice in the last few hours. He knows himself that whatever he was doing was unhealthy; you nagged him about it just an hour ago, and now you were coming over.

His phone vibrates and he takes it in his hands, reading through your short text.

[my y/n 🤍] can you let me inside?

Jihoon’s heart twinges with guilt as he reads your message. He knows he should have listened to you and taken better care of himself, but the allure of his music and the pressure of his work had consumed him. He had become a slave to his insomnia, unable to break free from its grasp.

[my jihoon ❤️] door is unlocked. be careful

The moment he sends the text he hears some footsteps outside his door. He stands up from his chair, releasing a groan from the slight ache in his step, and heads his way to greet you. 

Immediately once he opens the door, he frowns at how disheveled and tired you look when taking off your shoes, knowing that you made the effort to come to his studio for him. You carried a bag from what he presumes is food from the convenience store at your side. Gosh, what time did he last eat?

“You didn’t have to come here, Y/N.” Jihoon reaches a hand out to help steady you as you chuck your shoes off to the side. 

“I had to, honey.” The term of endearment sends something through his heart. “I can’t stop thinking about you continuously pushing yourself these days. I miss having you at home.”

Before he could respond, you take his hand in yours and lead him to the couch, placing down the plastic bag on the table. Jihoon helps you unpack the contents inside. It was just two bowls of ramen and a pack of microwaveable rice. 

“Here, I’ll warm this up for us. Just wait on the couch.” Jihoon takes lead and grabs the two bowls of ramen and rice, bringing it to the little kitchen area to the side and filling the bowls up with preprepared hot water. 

You find yourself sprawled on top of the couch, watching your boyfriend quietly hum his way through the studio. Even though you were tired yourself, you made an objective to not fall asleep right on the spot. You wanted him to be with you. You wanted him to try and fall asleep with you, and maybe just maybe help him get some decent sleep even for one night. 

And if you had to keep showing up to his studio to coax him out of work, then that’s what you were going to do. Nothing was going to stop you. 

Once Jihoon finishes warming up the rice and letting the ramen cool down, he brings the food back to where you are and sits himself down on the couch right next to you.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, though there was a bit of lingering tension in the air knowing that the elephant in the room had to be addressed at some point. For now you both just cherish the time together since a lot of Jihoon’s work had interfered the two of you from fbeing able to spend time with each other. 

Once you finish eating, you glance over at him, pushing back some of his dark loose strands in his face behind his ear so that you could see his side-profile better. You see his lips curve up in small appreciation, but he can’t seem to get himself to make eye contact with you. The guilt coursing through him felt as if he was a bit more distant than usual.

“You know you deserve a break sometimes, right?” You ask him, watching him take in your words so heavily that it makes him momentarily pause.

Jihoon nods his head, a small sigh leaving his lips. “I know. But ever since we discussed our comeback preparations, I... I can’t help myself, you know? I need to make everything perfect.”

You listen to him carefully, taking in his words like the gentle melody he has the art in making. Jihoon had always been aware of the immense pressure on his shoulder over the years and it just now began to take an obvious toll on his health both mentally and physically. 

“I just can’t rest knowing I have all these ideas, all these words for lyrics...” Jihoon scrunches his face up together, exhaling a deep breath. “But I do wish I can just sleep and rest.”

That’s when your face lights up just a bit. “That’s why I’m here. You’re going to take a rest with me, whether you like it or not.”

Jihoon peers at you as if you were crazy. “Y/N𑁋”

“Jihoon, honey, please rest with me. One night is all I ask for,” You practically beg him. “At least lay here with me until morning. I know your work is important to you, but... I miss you. I miss holding you and when you hold me.”

You stare at him with pleading eyes and Jihoon can never get himself to resist you. Though he has a lot of trouble expressing how he feels, he can never deny just how vulnerable and sensitive you make him sometimes. You always found the smallest ways to take care of him, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in a way. He’s always been grateful for that, and he knows that someday he will repay you. He has to.

Jihoon glances between you and his open computer in the background, finally letting his shoulders relax. 

“Okay.” He stands up, motioning to his computer. “Let me just turn all this off and then I can hold you.”

You shake your head amusedly. “I’d rather hold you this time if that’s okay with you.”

Jihoon feels a smile creep on his face as he walks to turn off his computer and soundboard. He’s not against that idea either.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #woozi fluff #lee jihoon fluff #woozi angst #lee jihoon angst #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt x reader #woozi imagines #svt fluff

[madame-fear]

Feel free to not write this my love. I know you don’t think you can write for her but I’m here anyway.

Can I have a Alicent hightower smut request. Maybe she is helping the reader de stress (I really need it right now my brain is in peaces) but with some breast play of her doing it to the reader? And some praise ? Honestly it doesn’t have to be here, could be some random person I just need this.

(I’m going to jump off a roof) (stressed Batman)

꒰ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍’𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄. ꒱

ೀ amira speaks! : my darling wife Ash! 🥺 I truly hope you feel better now, my love. This is my first time writing for Alicent + breast play, so I hope you like it, and it makes you feel better! All I can do for my Batwife, I will. 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request above. ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 441.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut, drabble, WLW. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Alicent Hightower x (fem!)Reader

→ click here if you want to request a drabble for my followers milestone celebration! drabbles open from February 14th, to February 19th.

“My Queen,”

The sound of soft pleas and hushed moans echoed through your private chambers. Your eyes were closed shut, with your head thrown back as your lips were partly open, allowing all type of sounds to escape deep from your throat. As you sat on the edge of your bed, your nails dug deeply into the silk sheets beneath you.

A proud smile grew at the corner of the Green Queen’s rosy lips. Her lips delicately placed kissed on your areola, occasionally nibbling on your flesh as her other hand gropped your free breast; her thumb stimulating your needy nipple by caressing it gently, yet firmly. “My sweet love,” she whispered against your overstimulated skin. Alicent had found her way to remove the stress accumulated on you. You were too precious for her, she couldn’t tolerate the thought of you carrying any type of burden — and any way she could think of pleasing you, she would use it.

Needily, your hand went to the back of her head; your fingers intertwining between strands of her brunette curls, feeling your cunt become increasingly wet as her lips greedily took your nipple, feeling her tongue suckle on it as she moaned against you. Her hand clawed on your breast, massaging your hardened nipple. For a moment, she pulled out from sucking on your tit, but her glossy lips grasped against your flesh as her stare moved up to your features, which was drowned in pleasure. A gasp escaped from you, abruptly feeling her mouth leave your breast for a moment.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, my love.” your gaze moved downwards at her, weakly begging for her attention, as the Queen proved slightly upwards your neck to press a loving, delicate smooch against it. Her lips lingered on your skin for a few long seconds before she pulled apart, fixing her coffee eyes on yours. A rosy hue formed on your cheeks as you panted continuously from the stimulation.

“You are such a good, pretty girl. You’re my good girl.” she praised, pressing one last kiss on your chin, before lowering back to your breasts. Her mouth ravenously took your other stimulated breast, the one she had used her thumb to caress it, needily feeding and sucking from it — using her tongue to stroke your hardened nipple. A loud growl escaped from you, as you instinctively moved your body forward to give her more access.

“My poor sweet girl, so stressed.” she cooed, in between ragged breaths, as her fingernails scraped against the skin of your other breast. “But I will take good care of you. You’re mine now, all mine.”

#alicent hightower x reader #alicent x you #alicent hightower smut #alicent hightower x reader smut #hotd x reader #hotd x reader smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x reader smut #house of the dragon smut #hotd drabble #hotd imagine #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon imagine #amira’s 2300 followers celebration #drabbles are open

[harrywavycurly]

Eddie’s Wish Part 2: How’d You Get in Here?

Masterlist: here

Tag List: @miss-celestial-being @edsforehead @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @5sosjay @emma77645 @akiratoro420 @elegantkoalapaper @squidscottjeans @mikromoon @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @niallerlover8022 @twilightsfairie @pausmoon

A/N: I am so happy y’all enjoy this idea of Eddie and his Person and wanted more🥹✨

Eddie lets out a groan as he falls backwards onto his bed, the activities of the day causing him to feel particularly exhausted so he closes his eyes as his hands go behind his head. You smile as you quietly take a seat next to him at the end of his bed and place your hand on his knee ever so gently. Eddie thinks he’s just imagining the feeling of a hand on his leg so he just lets out a sigh as he begins to relax.

“You know one day you won’t be able to work on cars for ten hours straight…it’s horrible on your body.” Eddie’s eyes snap open as you give his knee a little squeeze before he quickly sits up and turns his head so he’s staring at you with wide eyes. “Why are you always looking at me like that? Aren’t we past the shocked stage of all this? It’s been two days.” You drop your hand from his knee as he stands up and heads for his bedroom door checking to make sure he locked it when he came in earlier.

“How did you even get in here? Why are you here?” His eyebrow is raised as he looks from the door back to you making you roll your eyes as you stand up.

“I’m here because you seemed upset or…maybe tired I’m not sure I just know you’re not happy so ta da…I’m here! Also I just…showed up. I didn’t want to open the door considering you’re the only one who can see me right now…I didn’t want Wayne thinking your house is super haunted or something.” Eddie just continues to stare at you making you let out a frustrated groan as you walk across his room and grab his door handle instantly making it unlock as you swing his bedroom door open and then slam it closed. “Better?” Eddie just takes a step backwards with his hands in the air.

“I get it geeze…no need for the dramatics….you can sense that I’m not happy? That’s…odd…uh so you said you appeared out of thin air so Wayne doesn’t think my house is super haunted? Does that mean…it’s kinda haunted?” You look around his room and stop when your eyes land on the doors to his closet.

“I wouldn’t go in your closet past midnight but yeah other than that…it’s normal.” You explain while you go back to your spot on the end of his bed. Eddie looks at his closet doors and then back at you with a look that you know means he wants more of an explanation. “You have evil dust bunnies.” You add as you close your eyes as you lay down on the bed and place your hands on your stomach in an attempt to get comfortable, the lumps in the mattress making it nearly impossible. “Where’s Mr. Wig-”

“How the fuck do you know about him?” You don’t even need to open your eyes to know Eddie is glaring at you, it’s the harshness of his tone that tells you everything you need to know.

“You think I just happen to know everything about you…from the weirdly shaped birthmark on your lower back and exactly how long it took to potty train you…three weeks and four days…which from what I can tell is normal-ish…but you assume I don’t know about Mr. Wiggles the stuffed turtle that you’ve had since you were five?” Your eyes are still closed as you slowly reach over and slide your hand underneath one of Eddie’s pillows, you feel around and smile when your hand comes in contact with something soft.

“Don’t touch him with your…weird imaginary hands.” You open your eyes as you feel the stuffed turtle being ripped out of your grasp. “Also how’d you learn all this about me? Did they just plug a thumb drive into your brain that has all my deep dark…personal information?” You laugh at the thought of someone plugging something into your brain, because of course Eddie assumes you’re a robot something you know stems from the fact he recently discovered the Terminator movies.

“No Edward I wasn’t just plugged into a computer so I can download all your nitty gritty freaky information okay? I just…know it…as soon as I got assigned to you I just…instantly knew everything about you so you’d feel…understood by someone.” You try your best to explain it to him but honestly you’re not even fully sure how it all works, you just know three days ago you got told his name and location and now you’re here and know everything there is to know about him.

“So…uh you said you’d be with me until I die…are you always going to look…like that?” You sit up so you can rise an eyebrow at him as his eyes not so subtlety look you up and down.

“What’s wrong with how I look? I think I blend in just fine in…uhm…Harkins? No…that’s not it…oh oh Hawkins? That can’t be it…what kinda weird name is that for a town…anyway I think I look good so if you have an issue you’ll just have to exchange me.” Eddie watches in amusement as you half talk to yourself and half talk to him. But when you’re done and look at him with a slight glare he knows you’re serious about not wanting to change how you look.

“It’s Hawkins and that’s not what I meant I…mean are you always going to look like a twenty something while I’m over here getting older?” You know he’s nervous about asking the question, the way he’s biting his bottom lip and the hand that isn’t holding Mr. Wiggles is rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Oh that’s up to you….if you don’t want me to age then you just have to tell me and I’ll stay this way forever…it’ll be creepy and you’ll totally look like a perv…but if it’s what you want then it’s..fine.” Eddie’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you stand up and walk over to him. “That’s still only if you decide to keep me.” You take Mr. Wiggles from him and gently place him on top of Eddie’s pillow.

“Yeah about that…if I did…want to exchange you what’s the protocol? If I’m not happy with your replacement can I just get you back?” You know he’s just asking questions to help get a better understanding of how this whole thing works but you can tell by the way his voice went slightly higher when he mentioned getting you back that this was another question he was a little nervous to ask.

“Well to exchange me it’s super easy you just say…I don’t want you…but once I’m gone I’m gone you can’t just ask for me back because I’ll already be with someone else…we do try our best to have a very quick turnaround time from the time the wish was made to when someone actually shows up…I also won’t remember you…at all.” You turn so you’re facing him and you instantly feel your eyebrows furrow as you see a look of almost pain take over his face.

“What-”

“Shut up and come here.” Before he can put up any kind of fight you’re wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to worry Eddie…even if it’s not me you’ll still have someone who understands you.” Eddie doesn’t say anything as he slowly lets his arms wrap around your middle. “I know that’s all you really want.” Eddie feels himself relax as you give him a little reassuring squeeze, you know this is a lot for him still but you also know he’s slowly starting to let his guard down because you’re exactly what he wished for he just doesn’t know how to accept it quite yet.

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson concept #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x imaginary friend #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

[drewsbuzzcut]

Started With A Spark, Now We’re On Fire

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ blurb

warnings: mentions being at a bar and some kissing

takes place February 2024

“Sorry about the game. I really wish we would’ve won. I wish I played better,” Jeremy shouts over the music playing in the bar.

Lyla pouts at him. She feels bad that he feels bad. Although the bruins didn’t win, she’s still really happy to spend time with him. His eyes seem sad and she doesn’t like it one bit.

“Don’t feel bad. I promise it’s fine. There will be more games that I go to and you can secure a win for me. I’m just glad to be here with you,” her hand rests on his shoulder, so she can lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. She presses a kiss on his cheek, patting herself on the back when the disappointment in his eyes disappears.

Jeremy has to pause for a hot minute. The burning sensation of her lips still lingering on his skin and his brain starts to short circuit. He’s never been this close to heaven.

“Trust me, there’s no one I’d rather have here with me,” he assures her, hand reaching out to grasp hers.

“Good!”

“You look so beautiful. My jersey looks good on you,” Jeremy compliments, a hand wrapping around Lyla’s waist to pull her closer to him. Her hands splay out on his chest, fingers tapping him to the beat of the song that’s playing.

The material of the jersey scratches against her skin in a way that drives her senses crazy. They’re ultra sensitive and the way his jersey smells just like him makes her think it’s one he pulled right out of his closet.

“Of course it does. I make anything look good. It just so happens that ‘Swayman’ makes me appear ethereal,” she responds, letting her hand travel up to his hair, swirling a curl around her finger. She moves it back down to caress his bearded jaw, the coarse hairs suddenly feel like silk.

Jeremy bites down on his lip, so taken with her confidence. She has no idea just how much he yearns for her. The way her eyes sparkle in the low lighting as she looks up at him; how her lips look tempting, and how her hands on him feels too right, makes him shudder in both nerves and excitement. Who knew someone can be so captivating, stronger than gravity, really?

Her eyes really do it for him. They reel him in, keeping their grip tight on him, and set his soul alight. Fuck it, he thinks. Throwing all caution to the wind, he leans down and captures her lips.

Lyla lets out a low gasp, swallowed by his mouth. She wasn’t expecting to become this intoxicated from his lips alone. She wasn’t even expecting him to kiss her, but she quickly follows his lead. His beard softly scrapes against her chin, sending chills throughout her body. There’s nothing more invigorating than the way his mouth takes charge over hers. He’s claiming her, tasting her, and Lyla has no problem with it.

Jeremy is first to pull away, eyes still closed and hands still holding onto her. Lyla grips his shirt to ground herself as her head spins. His nose nudges at the skin of her cheek, making her laugh and effectively bringing her back from his kiss induced haze.

“Lyla?” He whispers so softly, the hairs on her body stand.

“Yes?”

“Let me take you on a date tomorrow,” he requests and places his forehead on hers.

“Okay,” it’s sultry and magical, her voice whispering in his ear.

She looks up and leans in for a kiss once more. There’s no way she’ll ever get enough. She’ll always be haunted by the tender, yet fervid, pressure of his lips on hers. Haunted by the feeling of his tongue exploring her mouth as if he’s been there before, but it’s a welcome ghost.

He presses a gentle hand on her throat, feeling the way her breath hitches when he sucks on her bottom lip.

“Do you kiss all the girls you ask on dates like that?” Lyla asks, pulling away to face him with red, swollen lips and wide eyes.

“There’s only you,” he silences her underlying worries.

a/n: Their first kiss! I really adore Lyla and Jeremy😭 I hope y’all enjoy!!

#lyla x jeremy #oc!singer x jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman #nhl imagine #nhl fic

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3,686

warnings: swearing, reader has a shitty mom, a few uses of y/n, anxiety, fluff and angst

a/n: hi! listen, i know, i know, it’s been more than a month since i published part two and i’m sorry. but i promise it won’t take as long anymore. i hope you like this part! there’s a lot going on. it’s getting messy, my dudes. love you! <333

————

Your room is small. And you don’t mind that one bit. Hell, you’re lucky your parents snagged one of the few single-wide’s with a layout nice enough that there even are two bedrooms. 

But sometimes the small space can seem confining, like right now. 

You’ve been staring at college-ruled paper for what seems like forever now, and…you’ve got nothing. You spent all day brainstorming for this essay, and now that you’ve sat down, you’ve lost it all. It’s as if there isn’t a single coherent thought left in your brain. 

You hop up from your seat, thinking that if you get a drink, maybe listen to some music, then you’ll be able to get a hold on your concentration. 

And it works, for a while. You’ve been at your desk for well over an hour, and you’ve put a hell of a dent in your paper. 

But having your headphones on means you don’t hear your parents come home, not until your mother is smacking her fist against your door frame to get your attention. 

“Hello?”

You’re quick to push the pause button in on your walkman and put your headphones on the tabletop in front of you. The amount of eraser shavings you’ve accumulated is unsettling. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Your mother lets out what you're sure is the most dramatic sigh known to man. “Of course you didn’t, not with those things on your ears.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better about it, okay?”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the wall just inside your room. “Mhm. How’s your paper going?”

“It’s fine. Not due for a week.”

“So you’ve said. Anyways, I came in here because I was at the store yesterday, and Sherri caught up with me.”

“Oh, yeah? How is she?”

Sherri Henson is a bitch. She’s the kind of woman who peaked in high school and can’t seem to grasp that—even if she is well into her fifties by now—spending all her time corralling the neighborhood gossip. She’s lived a couple trailers down from you your whole life. And she’s yet another reason why you need to get the fuck out of dodge. 

“Oh, she’s fine. She just wanted to tell me that she’s seen you hanging out with that Eddie Munson boy. And I haven’t heard good things about him. I just wanted to know what you were up to.”

Your stomach drops. Of course she’d say some shit like that. “We’re friends. I’m allowed to have those, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But don’t you think it would be wise to make good friends?”

You rub at your forehead, already sick of this. There’s a reason you don’t tell your mother anything about your life. 

“You don’t know anything about him, do you?”

Your mother pushes her glasses up into her mess of hair. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand how you can be judgmental of a guy you don’t even know. You’re always whining about how I don’t have friends, and now that I’ve made one, he’s not good enough?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t want you to harm your education by hanging around some good-for-nothing boy.”

“I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Clearly not. Look at you.” She doesn’t say anything more, but leaves the room instead. 

You should be used to this. You should know that your mother doesn’t like that you aren’t a carbon copy of her. But it still stings. The feeling is drowning you; the feeling of being pathetic, unsuccessful, embarrassing. 

You need a minute. It’s not like you can concentrate on your paper here anyways. Your mother has already shut herself up in her own bedroom, and you know she won’t miss you if you’re not around. 

A lift of the blinds in your bedroom tells you that Eddie’s van is parked outside his trailer, but you don’t feel right just running over, so you call. 

Of course he picks up.

He hasn’t even said his name yet and you’ve already started talking. “Eddie?”

“Hey, yeah, something wrong?”

You sound frazzled. If Eddie’s being totally straight with himself, he might even say you sound a little panicky. Claustrophobic, maybe.

He doesn’t like hearing you sound like this. 

“Would it be okay if I came over for a bit? You can say no, I just…your company might help.”

You can feel that cocky ass grin from over the phone. The way your words register in his brain and he comes up with a response he knows will get you riled up.

“Oh, my company? That what you need?”

“Eddie,” he can practically see you waving him off, “nevermind.”

He laughs. “Okay, sorry. Yeah, you can come over. You didn’t have to ask. Could’ve just busted in.”

“That seems like a horrendous idea. And isn’t Wayne home?”

“Yeah, but he sleeps like the dead. He wouldn’t even notice. That’s what he gets for having me around after all this time.”

“Poor Wayne.”

He scoffs and stumbles over his words. “Poor Wayne? 

“Yeah, I feel for him, having to put up with you all these years. Anyways, I’ll be there in a second.”

“You little shit–” he starts, but you’re already hanging up. 

Eddie opens the door closest to his room to watch for you. You bound across the road and up the concrete step, clearly pleased with yourself. He backs up, that stupid ass grin on his face, and gestures with his arm for you to go inside. 

He notices you’ve brought your bag with you. “Plotting my murder?” he inquires, eyes dancing over the corduroy. 

“Absolutely. Any sort of preference?”

He sits down on his bed, back to the wall. “Maybe the candlestick? Rope could be fun. Or if you’re feeling particularly malicious: poison.”

“Remind me to never play Clue with you.”

He laughs and it’s low and drawn out like he knows he’s being annoying. Like he knows you enjoy it. 

“Why, because you know I’ll kick your ass?”

You smile at him, and it feels like he’s won the lottery. “Precisely.” 

“I’d go easy on you,” he argues. 

“Bullshit.”

Eddie watches you fiddle with the zipper on your bag and then pull out a piece of paper. You flop down in his desk chair, making yourself at home. He’s told you to do that more than once, so he’s glad to see you act on it. 

“What are we working on?”

“I’m supposed to be finishing a paper, and that’s what I was doing, but being berated doesn’t really help my focus.”

He chuckles, opening a bag of Skittles you didn’t even know he had. “I wouldn’t think so. You wanna talk about it?”

“No, that’s okay.” 

Eddie nods, hoping you’ll open up to him sooner than later. 

“Would you prefer if I just went about my business while you worked?”

“I really would, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Mhm. Anything you need, sweetheart.”

He hops up, and his fingers go to mess with the radio, but he stops himself short. “Will this bother you? If I keep it low?”

You shake your head, tapping your eraser on the desk. He gives you a frantic thumbs up before trying to make sure the music doesn’t murder your hearing. 

It’s on some rock station, where some of the songs are ones you’re familiar with, others not so much.

“Good?” he asks, and you return his earlier thumbs up. It makes him grin.

He settles back on his mattress, though it groans in protest as he does. He scratches away at a notebook for a while, and the room stays quiet. Just being in the same room as him is enough to keep you calm and give you time to focus.

You make more progress on the paper now then you had at home, and start to think maybe you should do all your work in Eddie’s company.

Eventually Eddie gets bored and pushes up, his hands coming to rest against the desk on either side of you, caging you in. He kisses the top of your head before resting his chin on it, peering down at your paper.

“Damn. Almost done?”

“Yeah. Should probably quit and come back to it later anyway.” 

“Wanna see something fun?” You look up at him and he’s got a wild look in his eyes, a wide smile on his face. 

“I don’t know if I trust that.”

“Oh, come on. Take a break. For me?” Eddie bats his eyelashes and you smack him on the arm. He stands and stumbles backwards as if you’ve brutally wounded him, though the smile stays and really ruins the act. 

“Fine. Let’s see.”

He’s got this brilliant, boyish look on his face. You can tell he’s excited. It’s the kind of excitement that rubs off on you, that makes you anxious to know what it’s for, even if it is something small. 

He moves to the corner of his room and opens this big chest that you might not have even noticed because of how much surrounds it. You realize, though, that there’s a handful of Dungeons and Dragons handbooks, a binder covered in stickers, other things you don’t entirely understand.

Eddie digs around for a second, and then he pulls out a little velvet bag. He brandishes it to you, shaking it a little. Whatever’s inside makes noise.

“I got new dice. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie that’s so amazing, I can’t believe you’d share this with me,’ but believe it, because they’re cool, okay? Prepare yourself.”

You take a dramatically over exaggerated deep breath, gearing yourself up. “Ready, Eddie.”

He snorts. He can’t believe you. 

He dumps them out next to you on his bed. “Ta-da!”

You pick one up, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t squeal. The dice are a translucent red color, with black numbers, and they’ve got little bats set into them. 

Fucking bats. 

You look up and Eddie’s big brown eyes are shining down at you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to contain himself.

“Eddie, these are so cool!”

He throws himself on the bed beside you. “They’re sick, right?” 

You pick up a handful, looking at all of the different ones as they roll around between your fingers. “Yeah. These are fucking cool, dude.”

Eddie giggles. He giggles. His glee is palpable. 

“I’m honored that you wanted to share this with me, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course, of course,” he says, scooping them up and putting them back in the bag. “I don’t just go showing my dice to anyone, you know.”

You laugh, hard, and it’s the first time Eddie’s heard you laugh like that. He thinks he could live off of the sound. He wouldn’t need anything else. 

“Well I’m glad you showed them to me.”

Eddie winks at you. “Me too.”

————

Eddie doesn’t hear from you for a few days, but it doesn’t worry him really. He knows you're busy with school, and he is too, now that he’s trying to get the hell out of there for real this time. He’s also working on a big ass campaign. He thinks this might be the one where Dustin’s character finally dies, the little fucker. He’s managed to kill off everyone else’s characters at least once (Gareth a few more), but never Dustin.

He does miss you, though.

Eddie is finding that he doesn’t like being without you as much as he likes being with you. 

He’s starting to show you parts of himself that he hasn’t shown other people before. He usually doesn’t have the ability to sit quietly in a room with someone else. Or watch for fucking bats. Hell, he built a fort for you. 

And he’s laying in bed, well past the time he should be asleep, thinking about how he doesn’t feel like you’re letting him get to know you like he is you. 

Eddie’s room is dark except for the light coming in through the window. He goes to rest his hand on his chest, but cold metal meets his bare skin and he’s quick to unsnap the bracelet he left on his wrist. 

He knows what you’re in school for. He knows you’re into bats. That you laugh at stupid, immature shit just like he does. Shit you’d get in trouble for laughing at. 

But if what he’s feeling, deep down, is what he thinks it is, he wants to give all of himself to you. And he wants all of you. 

He really does. 

And something about the way you held him that night that you stayed over told him you felt more. He can see you letting go sometimes. But more often it feels reluctant. 

Eddie just wants you to know that he’s not going anywhere. That he wants you safe. Happy.

He wants you for you.

Not for whatever else anyone tells you.

You are everything he’s ever wanted.

You.

————

“How’d you do on your paper?” Eddie asks. You’d told him when it was due, and just now that you’d gotten it back.

“Fine.”

“Fine? That’s all I get?”

Something’s wrong with you today. He’d invited you over for lunch, and you’d come, but the smile you gave him at the door wasn’t genuine. Something is hurting you, and you haven’t told him what. 

And it’s killing him.

He can’t help you if you won’t let him. 

You set down your drink, a little harder than you’d meant to, and sigh. 

Fuck, Eddie thinks. The last thing he wants to do is frustrate you. 

“I got a B.”

His eyebrows raise over the enormous bite of sandwich he’s just taken. He decides to behave and chew it all before he speaks. Wayne might not get the same treatment.

“Oh yeah? That’s so good! I’m proud of you.”

You nod your head, but you don’t look at him. If he’s being honest, it kind of hurts his feelings.

“You might be the only one,” you mumble. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…it’s nothing, Eddie. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He grabs the bag of chips out of your hand before you can shove your mouth full of them, and you look incredibly offended. 

“Don’t do that. Tell me what you meant.” Eddie’s voice is serious. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

You run your hands over your face. “My mom. She told me I could’ve done better than that.” You don’t say that she also said it was probably a result of spending so much time with Eddie. 

Eddie sets your bag of chips back down. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“You’re a total badass, and I know you’re hard working as shit. If she can’t see that, then fuck her man.” 

You won’t look at him. 

You won’t look at him. 

“You can’t listen to that shit, man. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this, Eddie.” He cocks his head at you, brown eyes boring into yours. “And it’s not exactly easy, just ignoring it. I’ve heard it for years, that I could be trying harder or doing something differently or anything, so it’s like fuckin’ ingrained in my brain. And sometimes I think it’s true.”

Eddie reaches across the table for your hand, his laying palm-up, waiting for you to accept it. You limply supply your hand to him, and he pushes his thumb into the center, rubbing in slow circles. He’s hoping the contact might be enough to pull you out of your head some. 

“Look at me,” Eddie says. 

You're quick to think about the night he found you moping on the bench. He’d said that then too. 

“Look at me.”

You shake your head again. 

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make fun of you,” he says, and you believe him, though really looking at him and his big brown eyes is enough to wash a surge of sadness over you. 

Eddie uses his thumb to wipe the fresh tears from under your lashes, grazing the tip of your now stuffy nose with his knuckle. You wrinkle it and he grins. 

Eddie’s thinking about it too. How upset you’d looked. How upset you look now. But he also remembers something else. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really, no.”

You hadn’t wanted to talk about your feelings then, and that was understandable because you hadn’t seen the guy in forever. But it’s different now. Isn’t it? Eddie feels differently for you. And he can see that you care about him, obviously, but what if he’s reading this wrong? What if you don’t want him as anything other than a friend?

This time though, you do look up at him. “It’s not true. I know your brain is telling you that, and maybe you even hear your parents saying that shit, and if your mind works anything like mine does–and I think it does–then I know it’s so fucking annoying, and you can’t do anything without hearing some negative response.”

“But it isn’t true. You work your ass off, and you’re kind and caring, and I’m sorry, but I can’t have you thinking otherwise, you hear me?”

You nod your head, and Eddie’s quick to swipe up the tear he sees fall, before you even know you’re crying. 

He gets up, coming over to where you're sitting and crouching in front of you. He puts his hands on your knees, but you push them off and stand, forcing him to follow so that he doesn’t bust his ass. 

You wipe your face off, drag your hands across your jeans, the feeling of Eddie’s hand on yours still burning through your nerves. 

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna go home.”

Something about this, about the tone in your voice, how resigned you sound, makes Eddie frustrated. 

He doesn’t move from his place in front of you. He can’t just let this go. He isn’t wired that way. 

“So this is how it’s gonna go, huh?”

You blink at him. “What are you talking about?”

He puts his hands on his hips, and he knows he looks like Wayne, he knows it, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. 

“You come over, you’re upset, but you won’t talk to me about it, and when you do start to talk about it, you give me vague answers and you shrug it off. That’s not talking, Y/N.”

“This is hard for me, Eddie! I don’t know what to do with myself when someone wants to listen to me, okay?”

“I understand that, but you’ve gotta at least try.”

“Try what?”

“Letting me in, for fucks sake! I can’t fucking help you, if you won’t let me in!”

Eddie sounds exasperated. And now you’re both shouting at each other. Shouting.

“Eddie, I–”

“Listen, just give me a second. You wouldn’t talk about what happened that night you stayed over except vaguely–and that’s okay with me–but then you wouldn't talk to me the other day, either. And now you’re just…I feel like you’re shutting me out.”

“I want to help you, and I know it takes time to open up, but I know that you know you’re safe with me. And I want to help make it better. I want you, Y/N, and I just–why won’t you let me in?”

It feels like your heart has stopped. Like he’s messing with you. But you know better than that. And you should’ve known that was coming at some point. 

“Eddie, don’t say that.”

“Say what?” He wants to hear the words leave your mouth. 

You mess with your fingers, and he grabs your hands to get you to quit. “That you want me, Eddie. You can’t just say that.”

“And why can’t I, huh? Because it involves feelings? Y’know those things that you won’t share with me?”

You step a little ways back from him, but you’re still cornered. He knows that stung, but if he hadn’t said it now, he might never have at all. 

“Eddie, you can’t actually want me. You’ve said it yourself, I’m incapable of being open and not fucking things up! Look at what we’re doing!”

“And what if I do want you? What then?”

“Then I don’t know!” you yell, louder than you’d intended. 

Eddie moves away from you then, sitting back down, and crossing his arms. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, despite the fact that you’re arguing. 

“I never said you were fucking things up. And I didn’t say you were incapable of being open,” he breathes. “That’s all I want, for you to be open with me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me, like you have to let that shit eat you alive.”

“But aren’t I? Fucking it up? Eddie, you’re the only friend I’ve got and you’re being honest with me and all I’ve done is fuss at you. That’s like, the definition of fucking things up.”

“You’re not. I just want you to let me in.”

You’re both quiet for a minute. You walk around the trailer, cleaning up your lunch and grabbing your things. It’s mindless, and you’re not even sure you want to go home. 

“I meant what I said,” Eddie starts. “I do want you. And I mean as more than just a friend. I’m—” I’m falling in love with you. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say that he wishes he’d said so sooner. That he’d told you in high school. None of that matters now. He wants you, and he thinks he always will. 

“I would never lie to you about that,” he says. 

You take a shaky breath. “I know that you wouldn’t, Eddie. I just…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You do know.”

“I think maybe you should want someone who’s not so much trouble.”

And Eddie can’t say anything, because you’ve already turned and rushed down the stairs, the door slamming shut behind you. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson @kelsiegrin @storiesbyrhi @avalon-wolf

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson series

[augustghosts]

Stake Out

Tangerine x fem!reader

This is just… this is just filth!!! I came up with this while i was sitting alone in my car eating mcdonalds lmao, i’m not sure what that says about me. Idk if this is even what Tangerine’s “job” entails but uh, inside my brain it apparently does. This is short but i’m already working on some more tangerine stuff, what can i say? he’s inspired me <3

also i didn’t proofread this soooo lmk if you spot any mistakes <3 hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: It’s a blowjob in a car, what can i say?. (so minors walk back out that door pls). Dirty talk and Tangerine being cocky blah blah Established relationship. Smoking. Swearing, of course.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Tangerine sighs beside her, adjusting his position in his seat. She tries her best not to stare at his thighs as his ringed hand settles on one of them. They’ve been sitting in this vehicle for the better part of 5 hours now, they’ve done longer jobs before, but never one as boring as this.

“You’re the one that signed us up for this.” She grumbles back at him. She’d been in a mood all day, but with good reason. At this point she wasn’t sure whether he was talking about not being able to take any more of the job or of her. He decides not to reply, he doesn’t want to argue with her in this small car and risk compromising their job. For the temper Tangerine had, he was mighty good at holding himself back when it came to her. And Lemon. He hopes that they consider themselves lucky.

He looks at her when he hears her rummaging around in her bag. She pulls out his pack of cigarettes, pulls one out of the pack and sets the pack down on her lap. She begins rooting through the glove compartment for a lighter.

“Give us one.” Tangerine holds out his hand.

“Fuck off.” She mumbles, she’s getting angrier as she fails to find the lighter. He isn’t even offended, in fact- he smirks as he watches her. She was so much like him, and he fucking loved it. He would never say that to her though, he doesn’t want to risk getting slapped. He digs into his own pocket feeling the lighter immediately.

“Looking for this?”

He snaps his palm shut when she reaches for it. He can’t help but think about how attractive she looks with the unlit cigarette hanging between her lips. Her eyebrows furrowed, the pissed off look in her eyes - one he was very familiar with. God, he wishes they were watching someone from a hotel room with a bed. Or a couch. Then he could have her right now.

He tuts, clicking his tongue and grasping the box out of her lap. He makes sure to brush the inside of her thigh with his fingertips as he does. He feels the muscle there tense. He takes a cigarette for himself and lights it before offering it to her. She goes to take it from his hand but he moves it out the way. She rolls her eyes and leans forward, letting him light it for her. He watches the way she inhales, her eyes closing.

“Asshole.” She mumbles as she exhales. Her eyes catch the way his hand that’s holding his own cigarette is hanging out the window. Why is that attractive?

“Technically, this is a company car.” His voice snaps her out of it. “We shouldn’t even be smoking in here.”

“As if you give a shit.” She says, “Besides, we have the windows open.”

“Lemon should have taken this job.” She continues. “He would have loved sitting here, he would have brought a book or something.”

“Probably,” He agrees. “But, I would much rather be sitting here with you.”

He finally decides that he’s bored enough to initiate something, his hand lands on her knee as he speaks. His signature smirk gracing his face when she turns to him.

“I’m not getting naked in this car.” She says sternly. His fingers caress her knee and begin to move upwards. Caressing the soft skin there as well - lightly. The contrast of warm skin and metal from his rings made her shiver. His other hand, still holding his cigarette between said ringed fingers, is hanging out the window.

“Did I say that?” He asks, his hand that was on her knee takes hers into it and guides her palm to his crotch. He knows it’s kind of selfish, but he also knows her too well. He knows she’s being serious in saying she will not take any clothing off inside this car where someone could see. She thinks for a moment, glancing over to the house they were supposed to be watching - it remains dark and still. She looks down at her hand resting on his clothed cock, and she looks back up at his gorgeous face.

Fuck it.

She stubs out her own cigarette on the dash - she’ll clean it later, and she cups his jaw instead. Prompting him to lean towards her and join their lips. She has to twist slightly in her seat, it's an awkward position considering her right hand was still pressing on his dick. She removes her hand and stops his protest by pushing her tongue into his mouth. She turns completely in her seat and goes back to work. His hand travels to her hair and slightly tugs. Her insides tingles as his fingers touch her scalp, it took almost nothing for him to get a reaction from her. The soft moan she lets out and the smirk upon his lips as they pull away tells her that he knows that.

“Hurry up then.” She whispers breathlessly against his mouth, gesturing to his belt. He takes the hint and hurrys to undo his trousers with a smile on his face. Bastard. The clinking of the metal almost makes her more impatient, his attractive hands pulling his even more attractive and semi hard cock out of its confines makes her mouth water.

“Hurry up then.” He jokes, mimicking her statement from before and guestring downwards.

“Watch it.” She mumbles, leaning over to kiss him again and wrap her fingers around his length. It’s her turn to smirk against his mouth as he takes in a sharp breath.

She moves to kiss his jaw as her hand works him. They’re lucky that this job required them to be in a pretty secluded area, she thinks - as she suddenly remembers that they are literally parked up on the side of the street right now. She takes one more look around, all clear, before whispering in his ear: “What do you want? You want my mouth?”

“Fuck.” He drags the word out. “Please.”

“I like hearing you say please.” She smiles, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before lowering her head.

“Fuck off.” He whispers, his hand coming up to rest on the back of her head as she takes him into her mouth. Her warm tongue teases his head and his hand tightens in her hair. “You look fuckin’ beautiful like this. Shit, look at you.” His voice is deeper now, spurring her on.

He lifted his hips slightly off the leather seat, holding back from thrusting into her mouth. His lips parting, his eyes closing as she started to properly take him inside of her mouth. She moaned around him, relishing in the rare sight of him practically trembling above her. She broke away for a second to take a breath, flattening out her tongue to brush his sensitive head on the way up. He jolted as she did so, cursing again. His hand on the back of her neck unconsciously pushed her back down when she took him back in again.

“Jesus, baby.” Tangerine practically squeaks, his voice tense. She loves being able to see him like this. So different to his usual demeanor - so beautiful.

“Do that again.” He pleads. She pulls back off of him and lazily twists her hand around his shaft. She leans up to press a messy kiss to his lips before sticking out her tongue and making her way back down. Tangerine watches her closely, panting and groaning beautifully above her.

“Are you gonna come for me?” She pulls away once more before going back to caressing him with her wet mouth.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, pushing her head down more forcefully this time. She lets him, loving the feel of his hand tugging at her hair. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He moans as he bucks his hips, the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat and the moan he lets out when she gags around him is downright sinful.

“Gonna make me cum baby. Let me see em’.” She knows exactly what he means. She pulls away for a second and begins to undo the first few buttons of her blouse, just enough for him to have a fantastic view of her chest when she bends down. And a fantastic view it is, the sight of her tits and the feel of her warm mouth around him sets him off. She moans around him when she feels ropes of his cum trickle down her throat. He flinches as she does - his cock sensitive, it makes him buck his hips and pull her off of him using the grip he still had on her hair.

“Oh my god.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. She sits back up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and fixing her hair and shirt. He smiles wide as he watches her.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy.” He laughs as he begins to sort himself out and redo his belt.

“Me?” She reiterates, “It was your fucking idea! You’re lucky we didn’t ruin the job.”

“Well,” He glances over to the house they were supposed to be watching. “We might have because… his car is gone.”

Her head whips around so fast he swears it almost came off.

“Oh fuck! You fucking-“ Whatever name she was about to call him will have to wait till later, she’s interrupted when Tangerine’s phone stars ringing furiously. It makes both of them jump, they both stare at it. Knowing what was coming. Tangerine takes a deep breath before picking up the device and putting it to his ear - she watches as he doesn’t even get to say hello before he’s holding the phone away from his ear and cringing as the loud voice on the other side begins to yell. Shit, they were in big trouble. Worth it? Absolutely.

#bullet train #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine fics #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #bullet train smut #bullet train fic

[desceros]

F!Donnie's reaction to the discovery of f!viola-chan pregnancy? *Gives you the biggest puppy eyes as possible as I sulk after reading chapter 19* I beg of you for some fluff before my heart can't take it.

[yelling as i walk around the dash with this fic in a makeshift hawking tray] come get yer symphony copium right here folks symphony copium we got yer symphony copium donatello/reader; female reader; rated m (lil bit of spice)

“You smell… really good.” 

It’s a rare evening: Donnie’s actually in bed with you, no one got hurt today, everyone made it home, and with the success of the latest supply run there’d been food enough to go around. Your already-smiling face brightens further at his words, and you laugh as he presses close to burrow his face in your shoulder from behind.

“So you’re going to crush me into the mattress?” you ask, expecting him to make some kind of quippy retort about how he does that most nights anyway; but he doesn’t. He’s still smelling you, like your scent is intoxicating him somehow. “…Donnie?”

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his beak running over your skin, his brow furrowing as he concentrates. It’s a confusing mix; his intense study makes you a little nervous, but he’s holding you so gently and filling every inch of your personal space with himself, making it nearly impossible to think about anything else.

“Don? Is everything okay?” you ask after a moment, going to roll over to face him only to freeze when he clutches at your body and pins you in place, a low rumbling sound from deep inside his shell searing straight to the animal place in your brain that screams for you to obey your mate. Shivering, worried, aroused, you comply.

…He’s still scenting you. 

“Donnie. Donnie.”  Urgency fills your voice, and though you don’t move—not that you could, what with how he’s got his hand on your shoulder and his legs strategically on yours—you do put enough emphasis in your tone that he finally pulls out of whatever turtle-brain part of himself he’d sunk into.

“…You…” he starts, his voice something that sounds a bit like wonder. 

“Donnie, for fuck’s sake, what—”

“You’re pregnant.”

This time, you freeze without his command. The word bounces around in your head—pregnant pregnant pregnant—and bruises the sides of your skull for how hard it hits. 

“…Is that… Is that even possible?” you ask, trying to turn. Again, he puts pressure on you, not letting you move. He isn't on top of you, not quite, but you're not going anywhere. One part of you wants to scream in frustration, but you can also feel the way his weight calms the panic that you see just on the edge of your reaction, its gnarly tendrils ominous and bleak. “How is that—We can’t—?”

“Apparently we can,” he says, slightly muffled from where he’s still scenting you. “Fuck, you—you smell so good. I have to get up in a few hours. I’m supposed to be sleeping right now. All I can think about is fucking you while you smell like this.”

His hot words, combined with the way he uses his grasp on you to roll his hips against yours, make you keen into the dark air of his lab. Still, you claw your way back, refusing to let him melt your brain. This is—This is important, you have to—you’re fucking pregnant in the apocalypse, there’s so much you need to—

“Donnie, we have to—” you start, but he cuts you off by sinking his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, one hand sliding down to press low on your stomach as he arches into you again, then again. Fuck; he knows your body better than you do, and with a twist of his fingers he has you nearly begging for him.

“Yeah. We do,” he murmurs, talking about something completely different and, infuriatingly, still managing to set your blood on fire. “You’re so pretty. Always feel good. Amazing. You’re incredible.”

…Oh, you think, hearing it in the tremble of his voice. Feeling it in the way that his fingers go light on you, the way he’s curling around you more than he is crawling on top of you. The gentle, gentle, gentle weight of his palm against where it’s not just you inside your body anymore. The curve of his mouth against your skin between the wet kisses and nips where he's drunk on you.

“…You’re happy?” you ask quietly, uncertainly, and that, that’s what finally pulls him to you.

“Of course,” he says, like it’s an absolute not to be questioned. “Why wouldn’t I be? I love you.” Then, going still, he seems to consider that there might be an alternative reaction. “…Are you happy?”

You stare at the wall in front of you, mismatched and haphazardly scraped together. Just out of your hearing range, you know there are millions of hungry aliens looking to erase the very memory of you and the ones you love off the surface of the planet. It’s cold in the winter and sweltering in the summer. There’s almost never enough food. Only Donnie’s desalination machine keeps water from being an issue, and it’s a delicate, delicate heartbeat for the entire operation. Any day, you could die. Any day, you could lose him. Hope is a butterfly wing between you all; beautiful but gossamer-thin. 

You roll over to face him. This time, he doesn’t stop you.

He’s—god. Happy doesn’t even begin to touch it, you think, cupping his cheek with your hand and tracing your thumb at the line where his mask would be if he were wearing it. You haven’t seen his eyes this bright in… in… maybe ever, you think. His mouth is frowning now, waiting for your reaction, tempering his own, but you can see the shape of where he’d been smiling stupidly a mere moment ago. 

“I’m… worried,” you tell him, whispering softly between you. “I’m scared. I’m—I’m so, so scared. I’m shocked. I’m…” 

Donnie puts his hand over yours, keeping your palm pressed to his skin. It’s all you need. 

“…I’m happy.” 

His mouth goes back to that easy smile, his forehead pressing to yours as he pulls you close. This close, you can see the way his eyes are a little wet, and, oh, oh, he’s—he’s so much more than happy. It’s contagious; his delirious joy spilling over and making you giddy with the very idea of getting to share something like this with him. 

Sniffling, you press a quick kiss to his lips, laughing wetly when he chases you for more, tucking his face into your throat and inhaling deeply like he can’t stop. His hand finds your skin beneath your shirt, and his teeth find you again, the low rumbling churr of hunger intermingling with the light chirps of jubilation. He’s his own symphony of contentment, filling the lab and drawing from you giddy little laughs that tickle before the two of you fall to familiar whines and keens and mewls instead. Through it all, he's careful; gentle; worshipful; a reverence of you that makes you tremble even more than his sweet touch.

There will be time for the rest of it, you decide, letting his fingers coil with yours above your head as he slides inside on a gasped chant of love you love you love you that fills you to your very soul.

For now… you’ll just be happy.

#donatello/reader #my fic #rating: m #ask tag #symphony tag #NARRATOR VOICE: AND THEN NOTHING BAD HAPPENED AND IT ALL ENDED HAPPILY THE END. NO. CLOSE THE BOOK BEFORE YOU TURN THAT PAGE TRUST ME. #tmnt #rise