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bvnnywrites · 7 months

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Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 2: Überprüfen

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.

But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.

König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.

No.

Who the hell was he kidding?

He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.

König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.

And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.

He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.

König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.

All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.

He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.

But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.

He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use, and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.

The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.

König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.

He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.

König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.

By God König wanted you more than anything.

He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.

Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.

König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.

But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.

He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…

But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.

Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.

König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.

He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.

Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.

He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.

“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”

König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.

“Colonel, are you there?”

Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.

“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”

Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.

He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.

Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?

Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”

You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.

“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”

He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.

“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”

“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”

He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.

But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?

“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.

“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”

He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.

Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.

“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”

Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.

“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“König.”

“What?”

“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”

“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?

Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.

You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.

König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.

He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture

“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”

“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”

His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?

Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.

So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.

König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.

“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”

“Alright, co–König. Good night.”

As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.

“Did something good happen today, colonel?”

“None of your concern, major.”

Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.

But Horangi was right.

Something good did happened.

You happened.

“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”

He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.

And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.

“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”

“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

“She can handle herself.”

“And what of the monster on the loose?”

“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”

“… Perhaps.”

König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.

The problem was that he knows he can have you.

Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you.

And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.

“Not yet.” König answered.

That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.

Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.

He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.

He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.

He needs you under him–

“Colonel?”

König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.

“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”

“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”

“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”

You can sit on his lap.

You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.

To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.

“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.

“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”

Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.

He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.

König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even, while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.

He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.

The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.

“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.

“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.

He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.

“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”

And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”

Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.

“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.

You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.

Well… there is König.

“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.

The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.

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P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^

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libraryofgage · 5 months

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Good Vibrations Three

One | Two

I usually try to throw out updates weekly but I got possessed by the muse for Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins and, like, finished the main chapters for that in a daze hfjdk I still need to write the two epilogues, but needed a little break, so here we are!

Part three has Eddie confirming his suspicions, like two seconds of angst that is immediately thrown out the window, and a little flirting UwU

I hope you enjoy! As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

----

Something hits Steve in the back of the head. He'd be upset if not for the fact that he's facing away from Dustin and gave the kid paper for the express purpose of throwing if he needs Steve's attention. After much trial and error, the system finally works for them.

Steve sets down the plate he was washing (the aftermath of Dustin asking for grilled cheese sandwiches and annoying Steve until he caved) and turns, drying his hands on a dish towel. "What's up?"

Dustin's chest and arms are sprawled across the table, looking for all intents and purposes that he'd collapsed from sheer boredom or frustration. When Steve speaks, though, he sits up straight so Steve can see his mouth properly. "Can you pick me up tomorrow?"

"I thought your mom was."

"She told me this morning that she got saddled with a last minute thing."

Steve frowns, slowly parsing through Dustin's mouth movement and trying to find the shape of words. He doesn't get all of them, but he gets enough to understand the problem. "Oh," he says, "yeah, sure. Right after school?"

Dustin shakes his head, pushing his biology homework away so he can lean forward. "Hellfire is tomorrow. Eddie says it's gonna be in the math classroom. Can you meet me there at 4:30?"

Somehow, Steve immediately recognizes Eddie's name. Unsurprisingly, it makes him think of the guy, and his mind happily offers up the memory of Eddie laughing on stage. Steve struggles to push the memory aside, at least moving it to a corner until he can properly reminisce later.

"Which math room?" Steve asks, hoping Dustin doesn't notice a longer than normal delay in his response.

He doesn't, if his relieved and happy grin is anything to go by. "213," Dustin says. He then pauses, as if suddenly thinking of something. "Also, uh, maybe wait in the next hall or something. Don't let Eddie see you."

"Why can't Eddie see me?" he asks. Has Eddie been complaining about Steve lately? Has Dustin spent the past week listening to Eddie insult or make fun of Steve for...something he did at the Hideout? Did he not act normal enough?

Well, it's probably not that last one. Robin is great at elbowing Steve when someone is talking to him. She's saved him from numerous awkward situations with that move. It's almost worth the bruise he'll inevitably get from her sharp elbow.

"He won't, like, shut up about you," Dustin says, his nose wrinkling some in disgust and distorting the shape of his mouth. He waits until his expression is under control to add, "He can't get over you attending his gig or something. Keeps saying it's weird that "King Steve" likes metal."

"Oh."

Steve feels his shoulders grow heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He can't hear how Dustin is saying the words, and Dustin's expression isn't animated enough for Steve to glean any kind of tone. But experience has taught Steve that Eddie is probably complaining, even if Dustin isn't saying it outright.

Now that he's thinking about it, it probably was weird for Steve to just show up to a heavy metal gig. He's never shown any sign of liking the genre to others before. Then again, he's pretty skilled at passing for completely "normal" to other people. That results in him being King Steve, though, and that version of him might be all that Eddie can see, which would make his appearance at the Hideout pretty fucking awkward, huh?

Steve is so lost in his thoughts and the feeling of remorse and embarrassment and frustration that he almost misses how Dustin rolls his eyes, his shoulders jerking with a scoff. He pays attention just in time to watch as Dustin says, "Yeah, so if he sees you, he'll probably grill you on your favorite bands or something. He's, like, obsessed with figuring out all the other freak things about you. His words, by the way."

It's a lot all at once, and Steve ends up asking Dustin to repeat himself twice before he can fully comprehend everything. Despite the slightly annoyed look, Dustin doesn't complain. When he finally understands each word, that weight lifts from Steve's shoulders, the sudden emotional whiplash making him feel a little floaty.

"That's why he can't see me?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Dustin and leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah, it'll take forever. It's like when Mom runs into a friend and just stands there talking for a whole hour," Dustin complains, sprawling himself across the table once more when he's done speaking.

Steve snorts and leans over, ruffling his hair and jerking his hand back before Dustin can smack it. "I promise we wouldn't talk for an hour, but I'm not going to avoid Eddie. If he sees me, he sees me."

Dustin doesn't need to know that a small part of Steve really hopes Eddie sees him, deafness and all. And maybe he'll even like what he sees.

----

Eddie Munson is not stupid.

Well, his grades and teachers would beg to differ, so he'll rephrase that.

Eddie Munson is a fantastic DM, which means he regularly takes a big plot twist and sprinkles hints of it throughout each session of a campaign. Doing this means being able to put those puzzle pieces back together, too, and ensuring they lead up to the logical plot twist. So, Eddie's brain is great at seeing some puzzle pieces scattered around and putting them together to make a complete picture, and he's definitely been seeing some puzzle pieces.

Like Steve Harrington never looking over when Eddie first speaks to him. And the way Steve stares at his mouth, his brows slightly furrowed like he's trying to decode something (Eddie would love for this puzzle piece to belong to a "Steve Harrington wants to kiss Eddie Munson" big picture, but he's not delusional). And how Steve needs to be nudged or needs to see someone before realizing they're close to him. And how he didn't seem to understand Eddie's words until he looked down at a notebook Robin had scribbled in.

And that's not even counting the stuff Eddie Munson noticed about Steve in high school. Steve Harrington walked through the halls like someone was hunting him, his shoulders tense and his eyes always flitting around from person to person, like he was scared of someone sneaking up on him. He always seemed to ignore people when they called out to him, and Eddie had once dismissed it as him being an asshole. Steve never actually paid attention in class, either; he'd spend the whole time doodling in his notebook or zoning out while staring at the wall. He didn't even look up when the teacher called on him, and eventually the teachers stopped trying.

So, yeah, Eddie has slowly started piecing the puzzle together, resulting in a picture that he never would have linked to Steve Harrington, of all people. But it's the logical conclusion. It's the brilliant plot twist that makes so much sense when you review previous campaign sessions.

He just needs to test it, to see if he's actually right or if he needs to review the pieces once more.

Eddie's chance comes after Hellfire Club on Wednesday. Their session had finished a little earlier, if only because the players had gotten through Eddie's planned journey faster than intended. The next part couldn't be stopped five minutes in, so Eddie had called it a day and gone to the bathroom while the others talked about their character progression.

In the few minutes it took for him to piss, Steve had strolled into the school and started waiting in the hallway next to the math room. He's leaning against the wall, head tilted down as he reads a small book, his lips turned down into a slight frown as he concentrates.

This is the scene Eddie sees when he rounds the corner, and before he can really think about it, he scurries back to remain out of view. He's not scared of Steve Harrington. He just knows this is the best chance he's got to test his theory. Eddie glances around the corner, watching as Steve turns the page of his book, and he suddenly wants to know what has captured his attention so strongly.

Eddie takes a deep breath and slides around the corner again, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight. "Hey, Harrington," he says, his volume normal and easy to hear.

Steve doesn't react. He doesn't even twitch or give any indication that he heard Eddie and simply decided to ignore him.

"Haaariiiiingtooonnn," Eddie calls, a little louder and drawing the word out.

Still nothing. Well. Steve frowns a little deeper, turns the page back, and rereads whatever part has tripped him up.

"Steve, you motherfucker," Eddie says, the same volume as before, and this time trying something that might anger him. "Your hair looks ugly," he adds. It's a lie, of course. Steve's hair looks fantastic, and Eddie wants to run his fingers through it.

No reaction, and Eddie is starting to feel brave. He takes a few steps closer, still hugging the wall. "Oh, Stevie," he says, getting a slight grin, "big boy, sweetheart, darling, pretty thing." The endearments easily fall from his lips, hanging in the air with Steve none the wiser.

So. Eddie thinks it's safe to say his theory is correct: Steve Harrington can't hear. And Eddie is suddenly, achingly curious to know more. He wants to see how Steve, with his perfect hair and his stupid little moles and his blinding grin, navigates the world when he can't even hear it. He wants to know how Steve experiences music; he wants to know how many other people know; he wants to know if Steve ever gets frustrated and what he gets frustrated about; he wants to know if Steve's other senses are stronger to balance out his lack of hearing.

He wants to know everything.

Eddie strolls over, standing next to Steve and tapping his shoulder. He feels a little bad when Steve jerks in surprise, sliding back a few steps and looking at Eddie with wide eyes. "Don't do that!" Steve says, his gaze flitting around the hall before he forces himself to calm down and look at Eddie.

"Sorry," Eddie says, hoping his expression tells Steve just how much he means it. "You didn't look up when I called you."

Steve blinks, his lips twitching into an almost wry smile. "I, uh, was really absorbed," he says after a moment, idly holding up his book so Eddie can see "The Bicentennial Man" by Isaac Asimov on the cover.

"Heavy reading," Eddie says, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Steve read science fiction in high school.

Steve shrugs, glancing at the cover with a slight frown. "Dustin and Will were talking about it a few days ago. They seemed to like it. Figured I'd see what the fuss was about," he explains.

"Is it worth the fuss?" Eddie asks.

But Steve doesn't answer because he's still looking at the cover. A few more seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at Eddie. "It's kind of confusing," he admits.

And Eddie can't help himself. He wants the satisfaction of truly knowing he was right, and he wants Steve to know that he knows what's up. So, he asks, "Are you deaf?"

-----

Steve tenses, his shoulders hiking up, and he holds the book closer to his chest like it will somehow shield him. "What....how did you know?" he asks, deciding he doesn't need to try bluffing. Eddie's voice wasn't hesitant. He already knows the answer.

"Just noticed things," Eddie says, shrugging as he steps closer to Steve and grins.

The thing is, Steve hasn't tried hiding his deafness lately. Sure, he would have rather died in high school before letting someone discover he couldn't hear, but now? Now he doesn't really care. He's faced literal monsters; someone just innocently asking if he's deaf shouldn't result in the spike of anxiety that shoots down his spine.

At least, Steve thought he wouldn't care. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo, and years of habit had taken over, putting Steve on the immediate defensive. He clenches his jaw, forces his shoulders to relax, and reminds himself of Dustin's whole "Eddie seems weirdly obsessed with you" comment from the day before.

"Is that a problem or something?" Steve asks, relaxing his shoulder and forcing himself to stay in place.

Eddie pauses, frowning like he hadn't expected Steve to ask him that. "No," he says, the word a little drawn out based on how long his lips linger on the "o" shape. "How long?"

Okay. Steve can handle this. He can already see Eddie's questions following the same path as Robin's and Dustin's when they first learned he was deaf. "I started losing my hearing in elementary school. It was pretty much gone by high school," he explains.

Of all people, Eddie should be the most understanding, right? He probably isn't deaf, but Steve's deafness is something that makes him a freak. Sure, it wasn't super obvious in high school, but it still has to count for something, right? It has to help erase the King Steve persona from Eddie's brain, right?

"That explains a lot," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes like he's trying to filter his memories of Steve through this new lens. "You don't have hearing aids?"

"I, uh, don't usually wear them in public."

"Why not?"

Steve opens his mouth to answer but stops himself. Saying he didn't want people to know in high school would feel shallow, yes, but it would be true. Besides still needing to actually get new ones, he doesn't have much of an excuse for not wearing them now. He frowns slightly, gripping the book in his hand a little tighter. It must make some kind of sound because Eddie's eyes flick down to it before looking back up.

"I didn't want people to know in high school," he finally says, rubbing his thumb over the book's cover in an attempt to expel some of the nervous energy he feels. "If people knew, especially teachers, my grades and stuff would've been blamed on, you know, my deafness. And then my parents would've put me into a special school for others who are deaf or hard of hearing. I didn't really want to get transferred like that, especially in the middle of high school."

"What about now, Stevie? You're not exactly in high school anymore," Eddie says. And did Steve read his lips right? That was his name in the middle, he doesn't doubt that, but...was it changed? There was an extra movement at the end, Eddie's bottom lip pulling back slightly like a long E was thrown in there.

It's not like he can ask, so he shoves the thought away, thinking instead of his crushed and useless hearing aids. His shoulders slump a little at the thought. "My hearing aids are broken, but I don't have enough for new ones yet."

Eddie's eyes narrow again, and he leans a little closer. "Aren't your parents, like, stupidly rich? I mean, I've been to your parties, Harrington, it's not a small house you've got there. Just ask Mommy and Daddy to buy you some new ones," he says.

Steve blinks, trying to grasp the words while also processing just how strongly Eddie's "cigarette smoke-weed-woodsy outdoor" smell overwhelms him. It's not bad (maybe it should be? Steve doesn't think he's ever liked these smells before), but it makes Steve's head feel fuzzy and slow, like he's trying to wade through cotton balls. He blinks again, pushing through the daze to say, "Can you repeat that? You, uh, you spoke too fast."

The smell recedes as Eddie leans back, his lips quirking up into a smile that's more...indulgent than it is mean. "Your parents are rich. Ask them to buy you new ones," Eddie says.

Okay, that's...significantly less words than Eddie said before. Steve frowns slightly, frustration budding in his chest because he wants to know what Eddie said, not what he asked. He feels like he's being left out of a conversation he's actively participating in, and he has to swallow back his immediate, frustration-motivated response.

Eddie doesn't know, he's likely never spoken to a deaf person before. Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt and a little leeway, right? Honestly, Steve is fucking tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and leeway, but what else is he supposed to do? Blow up? It would be nice in the moment, sure, but the aftermath? The inevitable apology and the potential indignation from the other person? That sounds fucking exhausting. He'd rather complain to Robin later.

"I want to buy my own," Steve says, knowing his sudden shift in demeanor has been noticed by the confused furrow of Eddie's brow.

Before he can say more, Eddie reaches forward, grabbing the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt. Based on his surprised expression, it was an impulsive move, but Eddie doesn't let go. He just swallows (Steve should not be staring at Eddie's throat like this) and looks at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, and his face is so expressive that Steve doesn't need to hear his tone to know he genuinely cares and wants to know.

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I asked what you said. You just repeated what you asked. I want to know everything you said. Every word. I feel like...like you're trying to dumb things down for me, like you don't think I can actually, I don't know, understand everything. I'm deaf, not stupid."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly. "Oh," he says, licking his lips nervously before nodding. "Okay, yeah, it was kind of mean, though," he admits.

"That's worse, actually," Steve says, frowning and gripping the book tightly once more. "I'll just feel like you're mocking me, or getting off on making fun of me when I don't know. Just repeat yourself, word for word."

And Eddie does. He seems uncomfortable doing so, but he speaks a little slower and makes sure Steve can understand each word this go-around. At the end, he adds, "Like I said, kind of mean. Sorry."

Steve watches Eddie for a few seconds before grinning. "It's fine, Eddie," he says, suddenly realizing how close Eddie has gotten and how Eddie is still holding onto his sleeve. And then, to make sure Eddie knows it's okay, he puts on what Robin calls his Bitch Voice and adds, "Besides, Mommy and Daddy don't need to know I've broken another pair. I'd like to live to see next year."

Eddie blinks when he hears the Bitch Voice and perks up slightly, a grin tugging at his lips and his hold on Steve's sleeve tightening slightly. The awkward moment seems to have passed, and Eddie confirms that by asking, "So, what do you really like about heavy metal?"

"I can feel it. Literally. Heavy metal has stronger vibrations, so I can experience it more easily. I don't really know how the words are sung, but I can feel the beat," Steve explains.

"Then, what did you think of our set?" Eddie asks.

He looks a little nervous, and something in Steve settles, relaxing into place. "Like I said, it was great. Especially your song at the end. I haven't really felt a song like that before. Does your band have more original stuff?" he asks. Maybe he can convince Eddie to record some of their songs so Steve can listen to them. Or, even better, just play only their songs at their next gig.

"Of course we do," Eddie says, standing a little straighter and grinning a little wider and looking at Steve like he's put the stars in the sky. "I'll play them for you next time, sweetheart."

Steve blinks at the word he definitely understood at the very end. Before he can ask about it, though, Eddie glances behind Steve and quickly lets go of his sleeve. Not two seconds later, Dustin shoves himself between Eddie and Steve, looking up at him with an eager smile and bright eyes and Steve has the worst feeling.

"Steve! Can we have a movie night at your place?" he asks as the rest of the kids filter in, pushing Eddie further and further back.

"Sure, but you have to call your parents and tell them when we get to my place," Steve says, incredibly grateful he can't hear when Eddie winces at the cheer that comes from the kids.

And then the kids are pushing him down the hall, undoubtedly arguing with each other about what movie to watch first and not giving Steve a chance to say goodbye, or ask if Eddie was serious about playing for him, or ask if Eddie had meant to call him sweetheart or if that was just, somehow, a mistake.

-----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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#steddie #steddie fic #good vibrations steddie #steddie fluff #deaf steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington #stranger things #my writing

884 notes · View notes

sophiethewitch1 · 3 months

Note

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

#Event:1kCelebration #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #the way i want to write a full fic where reader finds dicks journal and he has a full blown meltdown about it #hes just so cute idk #i wrote all this in like 2 hours so im going to go pass out now thx <3

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koolades-world · 8 days

Note

Hihihihi, in case ya remember me, im the Pain-sensitive anon, and in case i will request again remember me as BigS, because my requests are as big as my S, but enough about that.

Poor you, so many requests. Drink water, be stronger that those 637181 requests, don't let them kill you!!!

But im here to torture you with another one~

So i have an album with 3814 Asmodeus screenshots(I FKIN LOVE MY BOYFRIEND!!!), and i had an idea "dam, if Asmo became real, it would be very hard to explain why i have 4k pics with him... " So here is request!

Brothers, finding out that MC's new hyperfixation is... them?

Apparently MC is neurodivergent or something like that, and as many neurodivergent ppl, they have a hyperfixation! They just randomly becoming very interested in something specific and collect stuff with it, talk with everyone about it, and remember every single detail about it! Like Levi with TSL.

But one day, brothers realise that MC stopped talking about their past fixation and was less interested with it. They think that "Oh, they probably just found something new!". But one day, they take MC's phone just to find that... They have a giant album in their gallery that is dedicated only to him????

The album has every photo he posted on Devilgram, every photo that he send MC, some unique photos that MC shooted themselves, even some chat screenshots with times when he said something cute to them! They even was photographing thigs that "reminds of him". Like some cheeseburger with "Beel vibes", Blue flower that "Looks like Luci" or gorgeous mannequin that "feels like Asmo".

If its someone like Asmo, he would also notice thta MC started buying their fanclub's merch! Like "Asmo lover #1" shirt or "Lucifer best man!!"cup(Luci is very popular, he probably also has some fanclubs! i hate this guy tho)

I think Levi and Mammon would die from embarrassment. Asmo would die out of happiness and Satan with Luci will try to pretend like thay never saw that. and idk about other ones. :P

I think that would make a cute fluff and a very scary situation if it was real uwu

Thats all

Have a nice dayyyyyyyyyyyy~~~

-BigS aka.AlgophobicDude

hey! great to hear from you again :)

haha thank you! been slowly knocking out requests one at a time and let me tell you it's a lot more fun than it might look haha

i wrote this while wearing a pink cowboy hat. i just wanted to share that

you got it! enjoy!!

Mc with a hyperfixation on the brothers

Lucifer

is this a human thing?

he's happy to indulge you as long as you're not too loud about it out in public

especially please don't share those pictures with anyone, like mammon. he will sell those, especially the ones he only intends for you. please

he's happy you don't hate him, actually. you make this old man very happy haha

Mammon

he would never tell you, but he's also got a photo album dedicated to you

also has a note on his D.D.D. full of all the things he never said to you but hopes to be brave enough to one day to tell you

he doesn't tell you he's got that though, not in a million years

he really loves that you're hyperfixated on him because that just means you care about him just as much as he cares about you

Levi

as expected, he's very flustered

he knows what it's like to have a little blorbo and he would give anything to be able to see them daily in person and live with them

he's over the moon once he realizes this and despite his embarrassment, he pushed through to spend more time with you

he's so dedicated <3

Satan

he's probably the most puzzled

he's always learning new things about humans even when he thought he knew everything

he knows and trusts you so from time to time, he'll take a picture with you in mind that he knows will remind you of him

all in all, he does think it's a little strange but won't stop you since he's never seen you happier

Asmo

like they said, you're literally about to become the number one member of his fanclub!

lucky for you, once he finds your asmo photo album, he's feeding into your hyperfixation

you get lots of exclusive privileges, such as early morning selfies and all his merch for free, including prototypes

he's always ready to pose for a picture for you. every side is his good side!

Beel

he's a little confused but he's happy to make you happy

he listened to you talk about your hyperfixations the most beside levi so he's quick to pick up on this shift

to make you happy, he decides to make a handmade adult bib just for you haha and at first he's a little sad but then he finds it while digging for your snack stash

you've never worn it once because it's hanging in your closet next to your fancy outfits <3

Belphie

you what? is his initial reaction

from the outside, it seems like it doesn't bother him or that he could care less

but, on the inside, he's elated since he thought after how he tricked you, you'd never want to be close to him again

now, you're the very thing that makes you excited to wake up every morning by his side

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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pinejayy · 10 months

Note

hi there! Can I request of Muzan x Slayer! Fem! Reader ? :)

Muzan meeting slayer! reader who’s traveling with Tanjiro and Nezuko and they’d meet for the first time after Tanjiro was able to track him down by his scent and when Muzan turns around, he was distracted by the reader and her beauty.

Thanks!!! :))))

sure thing, I hope you enjoy this. uwu // the reader is also over 18+ and wow I did three requests today!! I have two more to do and apparently people want a part 2 for I'll make you remember ,, so imma do that and if you wanna be tagged for part for that story please let me know

Demon Queen (Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader)

Tanjiro, Nezuko and you were walking around, as you guys were taking a small break, a well needed break. The three of you seem extremely tried for looking for the Demon King. There was no trace of him. As you guys were walking around the small village you were currently staying at, you could tell Tanjito was acting more weird than usual. He was sniffing the air like crazy.

"I have his scent! Come on guys let's hurry." He said all of the sudden and with that he ran off, leaving you and his sister behind.

You were both confused, but you grab Nezuko's hand and then ran off, chasing the Demon Slayer. And he was pretty quick on his feet. As both of you chased after him he was standing in front of a man who was pale as ghost and who had a fancy outfit, along with a fancy hat. You couldn't but admire him, but something was off of him.

Both you and Nezuko walked next to Tanjiro, and he was yelling at this man who looked confused. You sigh and walk next to Tanjiro and place a hand on his shoulder and whisper against his ear. "Hey what's your deal?"

"MY DEAL! MY DEAL IS THAT THIS IS THE MAN WHO KILLED MY FAMILY!" He yelled out, and he started getting looks from people who where around you guys.

You sigh and shook your head. "Dude you can't go around yelling at people, its very rude of you." You say, looking at the man. You blood went cold as you saw his eyes. You laugh nervously and grab Tanjiro by the shoulder again and started to pull him away. "I'm sorry about him Sir."

Muzan couldn't help but admire your beauty, he didn't pay attention to the brat who was yelling at him. He just kept on staring at you, it honestly made you uncomfortable. "Does your friend need help little one?" He said. As the Demon stared at you he couldn't help but frown as he noticed your sword, hmm he might do something about that.

'Oh no he's fine, he's just tried that's all...sorry about him once again sir." You say and started to drag Tanjiro off, and he was screaming still. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU KILLED MY FAMILY."

As he was being dragged off, the three of you got somewhere more private. "What's is your problem Y/N?" He said. "Do you know who that was?!" He said, sighing as he sat by a near by bench, Nezuko sat next to him placing her head on his shoulder.

"Yes! I know who it was...It was the Demon King himself...but do you really think it was the best idea to go yelling at him?" You say, shaking your head at the boy.

He looked away for a few second before looking back to you. "No..but-"

"No buts, look I'm sorry that he killed off your family but it's not the best idea to go running and yelling at him. He could have killed us!" You say, shaking your head as you rub the sides of your forehead. "And besides...we aren't ready to take him on. Yet."

Tanjiro sighed, as he looked at his sister who was already falling asleep on his shoulder. "I suppose your right. I'm sorry Y/N. It just hurts...he took everything away from me." He said, as he started to pat Nezuko on her head. "One day he's gonna pay for what he did."

"Hey I'm sorry if I was too harsh, but I promise you he will pay for what he did." You say, walking towards him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. "But come on now. I'm sure your sister would appreciate some rest. We all need it."

"Right!" He said, and soon after the three of you found a place to stay at for the night. Luckily the place you guys found had two bedrooms. Tanjiro offered you a bedroom for yourself, assuming you would want privacy. As you guys were saying your goodnights he looked at you and smiled. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted early but we will bring him down.." He said smiling at you. "But please get some rest, we'll head out in the morning."

You smile and nodded at him. Saying your goodnights. As soon you guys went your separate ways you lay your sword down besides your bed and then lay down, taking a deep breath.

You were thinking about the Demon Lord, you couldn't wait for the day he dies. As you were ready to drift off to sleep you felt a presence in the room. You sit up and look around and saw nothing. Until you heard a voice, making you jump.

"Wow you're more beautiful up close."

Looking at the person you saw the Demon from earlier. Your blood went cold, as you were about to reach for your sword but Muzan hand grabbed your wrist, gripping quite hard making you whimper in pain. "I wouldn't do that if I was you."

"What do you want? Are you here to kill me?" You say softly, as you didn't want to alert the others. Afraid if you did they would be killed.

Muzan chuckled, letting go of your wrist. He slowly started to trace a finger across your soft skin. Then he started to drag his nail across your cheek, but not hard enough to draw blood. "I want you as my Demon Queen."

"No way! I would rather die!" You hiss at him. Making him laugh quite loud. Surley Tanjiro would hear it.

"You don't have an option my love.." And with that he grabbed your sword in a quick motion and smacked you in the back of the head with the bottom of the sword knocking you out cold. He sighed and looked at the sword "You won't be needed this anymore." As he stood up and threw the sword against the wall.

"Y/N HEY ARE YOU OKAY? CAN I COME IN!"

Muzan ears perked up as he heard the voice of the Demon Slayer from earlier. Smirking to himself, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

"PLEASE IF YOU DON'T ANSWER ME! I'LL COME IN!"

Still not hearing a word from you, Tanjiro opened the door and was shocked from the view. It was Muzan holding your body! And with that Muzan ran off with you on his shoulder. Running at super sonic speed, Tanjiro would never catch up to him..

Leaving Tanjiro shocked at the slight. He then fell onto his knees crying loudly "This is all my fault! First my Family and now Y/N" As he cried on the floor, he was shaking. He lost you too now...

Little did he know that you were still alive, and how Muzan is going to force you to be his Demon Queen. Not only Tanjiro had to kill off the Demon King later on he also had to kill you off...the soon to be Demon Queen.

#Muzan Kibustsuji #muzan x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #reader insert #kny x reader #kny

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lyranova · 9 months

Note

Hii! I love your fics!! May I please request a oneshot where yami's squad member (y/n) turns into a baby / child (whichever is better), and brings her to the captains ' meeting as he has no other choice? (y/n) calls everyone dad / mom and it makes them all super soft for her? like yami is first annoyed then softens up, nozel is straight up rude as usual but everyone glares at him for that (cause they're so protective of her already uwu) and he ends up being soft for her too. idk, this was a 2 am thought im sorry!! thank you for taking requests 😭💞

Hiya anon! No worries 2am thoughts are always fine and fun, tbh I tend to get them a lot myself 😆! Aw thank you so much I’m so glad you like my fics, and you’re welcome, I enjoy taking requests! It gives me something fun and different to do 🥰! Of course you may and I hope you all enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,325

Warnings: None

———

Yami didn’t know how this happened, she was fine when she left on a mission with Asta and Noelle, but when they all came back she was a baby! When he asked them what the hell happened Asta and Noelle explained that it was the bad guys magic; he could make people really old, or really young!

Yami had ordered them to take her back to the mage and force him to change her back but Noelle explained that they tried, but the mage said his spell would only wear off in 24 hours. So for now…they were stuck with her being a toddler!

She was still able to walk at least, talking on the other hand…well she was only able to say a handful of words, mainly ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’. Which kind of bothered Yami since he didn’t want to be called ‘daddy’ by a member of his squad, but she wasn't really eager to learn ‘Yami’ at the moment he would have to deal with it for now.

Yami fully intended to leave her at the squad as he went to a Captain’s meeting, but when Yami began to ask who wanted to be in charge of their toddler squadmate every single Black Bull scattered like leaves in a gust of wind.

Which was how he ended up in his current situation; in the Captain’s meeting room, with his toddler squadmate sitting in his lap, as the other Captain’s ‘oohed’ and ‘awwed’ over her.

“ Aw look how adorable she is! I didn’t know you had a baby Yami!” Dorothy said as she began to use her Glamour World magic to create small toys to keep her entertained. Charlotte crossed her arms as she looked at the child.

‘Yami had a child?! Why didn’t he say anything? Does that mean he’s married or has a committed partner? Or is the child a product of a one night stand? Yami doesn’t seem to be the type to do that though, so he must have someone! Why didn’t he say anything, I’m so jealous of her, why didn’t I confess to him sooner?!’ Charlotte’s mind raced as she stared at the little girl, she didn’t look like Yami, but that could easily be explained away. The girl looked at Charlotte with wide eyes before she smiled brightly and reached her arms out towards the Briar mage.

“ Mommy?” She asked cutely before her smile widened. “ Mommy!”

Charlotte and Dorothy’s hearts quickly melted and they both couldn’t help but say ‘How Cute~!’. Yami sighed and shook his head.

“ The Prickly Princess ain’t your mom, and I’m not her dad. She’s a member of my squad who got turned into a toddler on a mission earlier. The other brats took off running when I asked them to baby sit her.” Yami explained as he held the small girl still. She looked up at him with a pout but did stop moving.

“ I see, so how long will she be like this?” Fuegoleon asked as he placed a thoughtful hand under his chin, the girl looked at him for a moment before her bright smile returned.

“ Daddy!” She shouted brightly and with a giggle, Fuegoleon’s brows raised in surprise and a small smile appeared on his face.

“ I’m sorry to say that I’m not your father little one.” Fuegoloen told her gently as he patted her on the head, the little girl pouted.

“ She seems to only be able to say ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’, which makes sense since she’s only like 1 or 2.” Yami said in an unsure tone, Rill tilted his head.

“ I think she’s closer to a year and a half! Babies are generally able to walk by the time they’re one, and can talk in short sentences by the age of two, so logically she should be somewhere in between since she can walk but not really talk!” Rill said thoughtfully as he stared at the young girl.

“ How the hell do you know that kid?” Jack asked with a frown and Rill suddenly laughed sheepishly.

“ Me and my squad sometimes volunteer at the orphanages in the city and the sisters explained it to me when I tried to have a group of kids tell me about their paintings.” Rill explained and the others nodded.

The little girls eyes moved to Nozel, who was sitting in his seat with his eyes closed and arms crossed, ignoring her effectively.

“ Daddy…?” She asked hesitantly and Nozel’s eyes shot open and he glared coldly at her.

“ I’m not your father, and I wish you would refrain from calling me that.” He told the girl, his tone as cold as ice, the little girl jumped for a moment before her eyes welled up with tears.

The girl began to cry and wail at the top of her lungs, everyone glared openly at Nozel.

“ What the hell did you do that for braid boy?!” Yami asked as he and the others tried to console the toddler and Nozel’s eyes widened a bit.

“ Geez Nozel she’s just a baby, can’t you be just a little nicer with her?” Dorothy asked as she put her hands on her hips and had a angry look on her face. Nozel’s cheeks turned a shade of pink and he looked away.

“ Don’t listen to him brat,” Yami said to the toddler as he gently patted her head. “ You can call of us ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ as much as you like. And ignore him.” Yami instructed them as his hand moved away from her head and began to wipe away her tears.

“ Yeah! Nozel’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a cool baby of his own!” Rill said as he crossed his arms, and Jack looked over at the Silver Eagles Captain.

“ Even I’m not that big of a jerk to kids bird boy.” He muttered with a shake of his head, Nozel sighed loudly before turning to look at them all.

“ I’m not jealous and I’m not angry at the child!” Nozel shouted accidentally, causing everyones eyes to widen. “ It’s just…” He glanced over at Dorothy, and she suddenly realized why he was acting the way he was.

Seeing that little girl was bringing up a lot of painful memories for him, so all he knew to do was lash out in order to hide his true emotions.

“ It’s just that a Captain’s meeting is no place for a child as young as her. Here, we talk about and see so many terrible things that it could easily traumatize someone as young as her for life. Don’t you think it would be better for her to remain innocent to the horrors of the world just a little longer?” Nozel asked with a sigh.

“ Uh, she’s already seen the horrors of the world remember? She’s actually a Magic Knight?” Yami pointed out in confusion, causing Nozel’s face to turn a brighter red.

“ Nozel does have a point. A Captain’s meeting is no place for a young child,” Fuegoloen agreed before he reached out to take her from Yami. “ So I suggest that she stay with Marx for the time being, and once the meetings over Yami can take her back. Alright?” He watched as all the others nodded and he carefully carried the child through the doors and to Marx.

The meeting ended fairly quickly and now Yami was heading back to the Black Bulls Hideout. After being full of energy all day she had finally wore herself out and was sound asleep in Yami’s arms. He chuckled a bit as he looked down at her, as much as he didn’t want to babysit her at first, he had to admit it was a nice change of pace and he was actually going to miss her being this small.

At least until she woke up and began to torment everyone again, then he wouldn’t be able to wait until she transformed back into her normal self again.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#asks #anon🌟#black clover #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot #black clover x reader #black clover x y/n #black clover x you #sukehiro yami #yami sukehiro #nozel silva #dorothy unsworth #charlotte roselei #rill boismortier #jack the ripper #fuegoleon vermillion

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Note

so i have no idea if you take requests, but… yk that skz code episode where they play like a bored game and they have to wear the cat ears and see who can make their heart flutter?? imagine reader as the 9th member and she has to wear the cat ears and she picks chan not thinking anything would happen but she turns into a blushing hot mess in front of everyone… (i believe its episode 4)

The Heart Flutter Game

Chan/ot8 x Female reader

Word count: 990

Synopsis: What happens when you realize Chan is capable of making your heart race?

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy reading. I couldn't help myself and threw just a smidge of angst in there lol otherwise it's all cute fluffy crack! If you all enjoy reading please give it a reblog, like, comment, hop on over to my asks, whatever. I love hearing from you guys! Warnings below the cut

Warnings: None but if there is something I should have up as a warning please let me know and I'll add it. Also although there is no smut or nsfw content in this fic my blog and stories are strictly for 18+ and over. MDNI you will be blocked.

You didn't know where the staff came up with these games sometimes but when you all walked in and saw a huge game board you knew you were going to have fun, especially when you all started to walk around and read the squares. Blind tasting, debate, this or that, heart flutter, fruit ninja. You didn't know what some of the games were but you knew the heart flutter game from watching tik toks.

You all rolled a big dice to determine the order you'd go in. Once that was decided the game could really begin. You made it a couple times around the group and then it was your turn again. You rolled and Chan moved your piece for you, landing on the heart flutter game. You had watched Seungmin and Jisung play one of the other rounds, so you knew what to expect and you knew who you would pick.

"I choose Chan." He smiled and walked over.

"You don't think I can make your heart flutter?" He seemed up to the challenge.

"No offence Channie but I highly doubt it." He clutched his heart.

"I'm hurt and will now have to prove myself that much more." You laughed.

"Well go on then sweep me off my feet old man." He made a stink face.

"I'm not old!" Seungmin laughed.

"You just forgot you're old because you're old." Chan feigned laughing and then turned back towards you as a staff member finished setting up the ears and sensors. Then one of the other staff members got the stopwatch ready. You just had to survive two minutes. They hit the button to start it.

"Okay and go!" Chan walked towards you a little more.

"Da? Ahh Da? Uwu..." Chan went straight for aegyo but you stood there expressionless the ears unchanging. He stepped closer.

"Daaaa? Oooo cuuuute!" He poked his cheek and you still gave no reaction and he got no movement from the ears. He stepped closer, now he was definitely in your bubble and you could smell his cologne. Why did he smell so good? The ears twitched and Chan looked at you with a little smile.

"What's wrong y/n?" You shook your head.

"N-nothing..." His smile got bigger. He leaned in and the cat ears moved more. The guys all started teasing you as your ears started turning red.

"Flirt Chan!" He got closer and you took a deep breath.

"Nothing? Really? You seem flustered..." Chan's face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath on your neck, giving you goosebumps and the ears started moving even more.

"Uh... I... I..." You were starting to get embarrassed that Chan was having such an effect on you. His lips were almost pressed to the shell of your ear.

"Do I make your heart flutter y/n-ie?" He whispered, then he kissed your cheek and the ears went crazy. You gasped surprised he did that. Your whole face was burning now as the guys all laughed. Suddenly, to you, it wasn't funny anymore. You pulled the ears off and tossed them down before running off. Everyone stopped laughing. Chan looked around at the guys who were all looking up at him.

"Way to go Chan." Chan looked over at Changbin who had said it.

"What?! You guys told me to flirt." Minho shook his head.

"Yea flirt, we didn't say kiss her." Chan face palmed and groaned.

"I'll go apologize." Chan walked off in the direction you had run off in as the rest of the guys took a break. He found you by following the sounds of your sniffles. He felt terrible.

"y/n? Hey I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was trying to be silly and took it too far." You wiped at your face a huffed out a breath.

"It's not that. You didn't make me uncomfortable Chan." He was confused, his head tilted to the side as his bottom lip protruded.

"What then?" You slouched against the wall.

"I... I liked it." Chan nodded.

"Okay..." You rolled your eyes.

"I liked it a lot okay?! And everyone was there watching and laughing and I realized it was all just a joke, that I was a joke, and..." Chan's brow furrowed.

"Hey hey no. You're not a joke." You looked down and shrugged.

"Well that's how it felt. 'Chan kissed y/n hahaha big joke'. Even you just said you did it to be silly." Chan realized he'd hurt your feelings.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I didn't mean it like that." You shook your head.

"Just forget it. Okay? Let's just get back and finish the game." You started to walk off and Chan gently grabbed your wrist stopping you.

"Hey wait we need to talk about this." You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Why?"

"Well you liked the kiss and I liked kissing you. Isn't that something we should discuss." You looked at him speechless.

"You what?" He shrugged.

"I said I liked kissing you and I think this is something we should talk about instead of ignoring it." When you finally processed Chan's words and that he truly meant them you nodded.

"Yea okay..." You said shyly. You and Chan sat down on the floor with your backs against the wall and started talking. Midway through the conversation Chan grabbed and held your hand and your heart started racing faster. Back in the main part of the studio the guys were all huddled around a monitor. After a moment Felix spoke up.

"Shouldn't we tell them their mics are still on?" Hyunjin shook his head.

"No give them their moment." Seungmin chimed in.

"I didn't think they would ever figure it out. It was starting to get painful to watch them." All of the guys agreed in unison. They let you and Chan have your moment while they waited for you both to return and finish the game.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#cal's requests🖤#cal's asks 🖤

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bluberrysaph · 4 months

Text

a comm made for a anonymous friend, i hope you enjoy it guys uwu

#male inflation #blueberry inflation #male blueberry inflation #blueberry #body inflation #male expansion

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strawberri-elixir · 4 months

Text

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 11. Friend-zoned???

Warnings: none…

note: i hope you guys genuinely like these parts because i enjoy making them!

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— you originally wanted yuta to hang out with you and inumaki

— inumaki had previously offered to help you get better at genshin impact to that you could join each other’s worlds

— yuta is blown away at how often you call him your best friend despite doing a lot of things that most people would consider “couple things” (cute romantic things)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082 @koiir @g0rep1ty @k4romis @beaniedoodz @seventhcinema @macimcnaron @pumpkin6969 @wowowein @neigee @someonethatisnobody @vndl-1 @yoyo-yui

bold means i can’t tag you for some reason :[

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astarionancuntnin · 15 days

Text

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 2)

summary: its the day after you and astarion indulged in each other's embrace. it shouldve been a once done deal, nothing more, but that last night ended with you questioning your feelings for the pale elf. you struggle to come to terms with those and the day might prove more difficult as you get trapped alone with him in a secluded dungeon

or in short:

rating: E

word count: 4k

pairing: astarion x you (afab!reader (she/her pronouns used), sorceress tav)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with little-to-no plot, karlach gets hurt for the sake of the porn (shes doing her part o7), denial of feelings, sexual tension through the roof, dom!tav/reader, teasing, dry humping, begging, ear licking, vampire bites, kinda praise kink, sorta breeding kink, your honor- theyre both brat switches fighting to top the other.

a/n: at long last, chapter 2! i had so much fun with the dialogues, i hope you enjoy them as much as i did uwu. also, inspo song at the beginning is the same as chapter 1, but a different part of the song, and end of chapter song is a different one (that i linked at the end). let me know how you feel about the dynamic in this chapter 👀

previous chapter

read on ao3

or keep reading down below ~

I shut my eyes

You call but I just cut the line

I know your style

I know that you want one more night

And I'm backsliding

Into this just one more time

You wake up this morning to the sound of your companions talking nearby. Instinctively, you reach for the spot next to you, only to find it empty. Figures. If it wasn’t for the aching pain in your muscles and the dizziness of your mind, you’d think what happened last night was just a dream.

The way Astarion had ravaged your body, how feral he was, the taste of him on your lips, how he felt between your legs…

Instinctively, you rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling from the previous night. You already feel that warmth between your legs as a result of those memories flooding back to you. You hear laughing outside your tent and it brings you back to the present moment ; your companions are probably waiting for you.

You quickly push aside any thoughts of him and reach for your clothes to get dressed up for the day. You take some time to prepare for what your companions have to say about the sounds that came from your tent last night. They had to have heard.

As you take your first step outside, Karlach is the first to greet you.

“Hey Soldier! Slept well? Doubt it was restful but it looks like you had the time of your life!” She nudges you.

“You can say that again! Those screams made me believe she was dying in there!” Shadowheart shouts, sitting near the campfire, before her and Karlach start laughing.

You feel yourself turn redder after each remark. Hells, I didn’t realize how loud I was.

“It did sound… intense. Are you sure you’re alright?” Wyll speaks up, more worried about you.

You lift your blushing face which was hiding in shame between your hands. “Oh, yeah no, I’m fine just- um,” you turn to Shadowheart, “Can I ask you to cast lesser restoration on me, please?”

She looks at you puzzled, “Can’t you cast it on yourself?”

“The only thing I wanna cast on myself at this very moment is eldritch blast, now, can you please cast the damn spell?”

“So much for the ‘great sorceress with limitless talents’,” she mocks you, reminding you of the very words you used back when you introduced yourself to her.

“SHADOW.”

“Fine, fine,” she scoots over the log, making space for you. “Come here, I’ll take care of you.”

You walk over to her and you sigh as you sit down, completely slouched over.

“Gods, he really did a number on you, huh,” she casts lesser restoration and you straighten up, instantly feeling much better.

“Yeah, you should see the other guy,” you say, smiling, proud to have gained back your wits.

“Speaking of,” Wyll interjects. “We haven’t seen him all morning. We fully expected him to come out of your tent.”

“Huh, I did wake up alone,” you confess. “I just assumed he went back to his tent.”

“Heh! Maybe he’s still in there recuperating from your night together!” Karlach shouts, before laughing some more.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go check up on him,” you roll your eyes as you get up to walk towards his tent.

You’re glad it’s placed far enough from the campfire to be out of your friend’s sights. You didn’t want to give them more ideas if they saw you with the vampire this morning. You call out his name before opening the flap of his tent, only to reveal it to be empty.

“Looking for something?”

You slightly jump, as if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have, and quickly turn around to face him.

“Gods, you startled me.”

He walks towards you, shirtless, with his hair still damp from his morning bathing and his trousers hanging loosely around his hips.

“Terribly sorry dear, I would never do this to you intentionally.”

His little smile is unnerving. Your heartbeat quickens, and you frown at yourself; You can’t allow yourself to falter this early in the day. You take a deep breath, your way to gain back control over yourself.

“We’re almost ready to leave, so I came looking for you,” you try to look elsewhere but you’re mesmerized by his sight.

“Well, here I am now. Can I… help you with something?”

He raises his hand and strokes your cheek gently with the back of it, his face dangerously getting near yours. You feel your face burning hotter and it takes everything in you to push yourself away from him.

“We should really go, just– get dressed. I’ll uh, I’ll wait for you around the campfire with the others.”

You turn around completely flustered and walk back to your companions.

“Again?!” Karlach exclaims as she sees the state you’re in. “At this rate, you’ll turn redder than me!”

You wanna crawl into the depths of the hells and never come back up.

—

Today’s quest brings you to a secluded dungeon. Your findings from the previous days led you there in search for more information about an artifact you previously found throughout your adventure. If you’re correct, you should find here what’s missing for it to work. Now the only thing left to do is actually finding that missing piece.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Astarion opens the door to the lower grounds. As the door opens, you’re greeted by damp air and a musty smell. The place is dusty and covered in spiderwebs. Whatever you’re looking for must be here judging by the fact that no one has been down here in ages. You all walk in and notice that the place is a damned maze filled with countless rooms. You split up from the group, starting the search on your own, and the first room you walk in greets you with an absurdly obvious trap. You sigh, discouraged, as you fall back against the wall next to the entrance. Guess I won’t be able to avoid him much longer.

“Astarion? A hand?!” Your voice echoes through the hallways, followed by the sound of his footsteps.

He makes his way towards you nonchalantly, “You called, dear?”

“Can you take care of this?” You point towards the device.

He leans over you, his arms caging you between him and the wall, “I could, if you were to ask nicely.” His face hovers dangerously close to you, you can feel his cold breaths ghosting over your lips. It would be so easy to just tilt your head up and close the gap… No, you can’t let him win this. Last night was just a mutual agreement. An exchange of sorts. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cross your arms over your chest, creating some distance between the two of you, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh well, I assume you know how to deal with such an intricate mechanism then, if you’re so much better than I am?”, he wears his typical shit-eating grin.

You roll your eyes and step over your pride, “Fine. Can you please disarm this trap so we can carry on?”

“See? Now, was that so hard?” He gives you a playful look before getting to work.

You stand next to him as he fickles with the machinery when you hear a loud commotion from afar.

“FUCK!”

You recognize the voice from your fiery friend and waste no time running towards the source of her scream, only to find her in a terrible state with Shadowheart kneeling next to her. Her leg is barely recognizable. Whatever got her rendered her unable to fight from now on.

“What happened?!”

“Godsdamned trap got me, shit!” She keeps groaning in pain.

“Alright, Shadowheart, do you think you can take care of her wounds?”

“I can stabilize her, but she won’t be able to carry on with her injuries, we need to head back to camp as soon as possible so I can tend to her,” she explains.

“Okay, okay,” your eyes wander between your friends as you’re thinking of a solution. “Yeah, okay, you’re right, I’m not risking Karlach’s life on this,” the cleric nods in agreement, “But we can’t back track now. Who knows what else this trap triggered, it might’ve alarmed someone. We are so close to finding the answer, I can't risk letting it slip past us.”

Shadowheart raises as she’s about to argue but you cut her off, “Don’t worry, I still believe you two should head to the camp. Astarion and I will carry on.” You feel Shadowheart’s glare of disapproval. “I swear we’ll be careful and we’ll run back to you guys should we encounter a situation that's too much for us.” You try to reassure your friend.

“Oooooooo, keeping Fangs all to yourself?” Karlach never missed an opportunity to tease you, even when in insufferable pain. You could respect that.

“Oh please, if it were up to me, he would be the one in that trap.”

“Rude,” Astarion remarks from behind you. You can’t help the smirk creeping up on your face.

“Fine,” the half-elf frowns in resignation. “We’ll head back– but don’t do anything stupid.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion adds sarcastically, as the two walk away.

With half of your party gone, you lose no time continuing your research. You didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with half the manpower in unknown territory. You pass a few halls and rooms, each containing an absurd amount of traps for what little they were hiding, slowly getting discouraged from your lack of findings, when you hear rumble afar.

You both still, listening to the sounds, when you realize they are making their way towards you.

“Hide!”, you barely whisper.

Before he can react, you roughly drag Astarion with you in the next open room and slam the door behind you. You acted faster than you could think ; the sound of the door was loud and the footsteps are now getting faster and louder. You try to remain calm to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary when you see the expression change on your companion’s face, followed by him yelling.

“What in the sweet hells is wrong with–!”

You don’t give him time to finish his sentence as you push him against the stone wall by his waist with the force of your whole body, while your other hand covers his mouth. You stare intensely into his eyes and mouth a “shh”, as silent as you can, to convey the urgency for him to shut up as the rumble of the footsteps get even closer to your location. He blinks rapidly and nods, understanding your motion, but brings his hand up to remove yours from his mouth. You hear the footsteps stop nearby and your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing stills. Your eyes dart towards the door, anxiety building up in your chest. Anything could be outside. You cannot risk getting into a fight you couldn’t handle. Against his own good, Astarion speaks up yet again.

“Let’s just kill–”

And you shut him up, again.

This time, with a kiss.

It’s a surprise to both of you. It was sudden, instinctive. You’re not sure what took over you, but at this moment, it seemed to be the best course of action. You stay motionless for a moment before pulling away, slowly. You hear the sounds outside your room getting further away and you finally breathe out in relief. He looks at you with an annoying smile painted over his face.

You notice him observing you. “You really need to learn when to shut up,” you say, a poor excuse to try and justify your actions, as a blush takes place over your cheeks.

His lidded eyes observe your lips before making eye contact again, “And you think you know better?”

“I know I do,” you frown slightly.

He keeps smiling, that damn annoyingly confident smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me, then. I’ve been known to be awfully loud.��

You scoff. The audacity of this man.

Initially, that first kiss was never supposed to lead to anything else. It was spontaneous, a means to an end, just like your last night spent together. Anything to stop him from talking, whatever would save you from being found. But you couldn’t deny the feelings that fluttered in your stomach, the butterflies in your chest.

He continues, his words dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sure a sorceress of your expertise must have some way to silence a noisy rogue like myself.”

You realize then : all along, you didn’t hate him, you hated the fact that you were attracted to him, to that damn attitude of his. Truth is, you couldn’t have enough of that banter between the two of you. Every morning, that was the thing you were looking forward to. There was no denying yourself anymore ; you chased the feeling of arguing with this overblown, pretentious asshole. You wanted him, in more ways than one, and in any way he would offer himself to you.

“I can think of a few tricks,” you lean over him the same way he did you earlier, your faces barely an inch apart.

“Try me,” his voice is barely a whisper by now.

You let your feelings guide your next move as you pull him in by the collar of his armor, crashing your lips against his. If he saw this as a game, you intended to win. As the kiss depends, you’re taken back to that scenario you played in your head the night before, prior to Astarion’s visit.

At the next corner, you would’ve pushed him by the waist against the nearest wall and shut his pretty mouth up.

Your kiss started out rough, but it quickly became passionate, it engulfed both of you into a world of your own. His hands roamed up your back and down your waist, pulling you in closer, reaching for more contact. Your sorcerer robe allowed for you to feel how tightly he grabbed you and yet, it didn’t feel like enough. You wished for nothing more than having your skin being ravished by his touch.

You would’ve taken the chance to let one of your hands roam through his silky smooth, curly hair, pulling it enough to get a moan out of him.

Oh, and how soft it was. Freshly washed from this morning, his curls felt like silk through your fingers. You let your hands linger in his hair, combing through it, before lightly pulling it back. He groans in your mouth as a response, not parting from your lips just yet, and you smile through it.

How you would’ve parted his legs with your own, and grinded against his crotch, feeling his growing bulge.

You easily push yourself between his legs and grind against him. He pulls back from your kiss then, gasping in surprise. With the threat outside the room being long gone, you welcomed any noise you would get out of him. You feel his cock getting harder against your leg and you keep rubbing him up and down, creating more pressure over his member. He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing hard, his hold on you getting tighter.

“Hells, darling, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he pants.

“Mmh, seems like I’ve got a lot more to teach you then.”

You reach for your trousers under your robe, letting them fall down after loosening your belt, before reaching for his, pulling them down just low enough to expose his cock which is already leaking with pre-come. He hisses when you grab a hold of him, your mere touch sending shivers down his spine.

You smirk at the visible reaction he has to you, feeling powerful over him. Such a contrast compared to your last night tryst. This time, you were guiding this dance.

You guide him towards your entrance, only to grind yourself over him. He slides so easily between your wet folds and you can’t help the moan escaping your lips. The friction over your clit is nothing short of euphoric. You swing your hips back and forth, coating his length with your arousal, as he holds onto your waist for dear life. You grab his face and pull him closer so your foreheads touch, then take a moment to admire the mess you’re making of him, and by the Gods, what a pretty mess he was. His parted lips, gasping between each stroke you would allow him, his eyes fluttering open, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing him, his roughed up curls from the sweat building up on his forehead.

He was beautiful.

You feel him moving on his own, trying to change positions so he has more control, but it's not something you will allow this time. You take his hands from your waist and push them against the wall he was leaning against, never stopping the rhythm you had going on.

“What do you think you're doing?” Your voice is coated with desire.

“Please, let me in,” he begs.

“Do you think you deserve it?”, you say, playfully.

“Gods, I– yes, yes I do!”, he whines.

“Beg more.”

“What?! I will not–”, before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his ear with your tongue and give it a lick from the base to the tip. “Mmmgh ah, fuck–”

“What was that?” You nibble on his ear.

“I– Ah–,” his entire resolve crumbles. “Please, love, I need you please,” he begs again, his voice faltering.

You continue to lick and nibble on his ear. “See? Now, was that so hard?” you tease, using his own words against him.

“Oh, you little– ah–!”

You cut him off as you raise your leg to hook it to his hips allowing you for a better angle as you push him inside you slowly. You’re so wet from teasing him that he slides in without any resistance.

You throw your head back, taking in the feeling of him filling you, and at the vision of your exposed neck, Astarion leans in the crook of your neck, bared fangs scratching the spot he previously fed from you. You feel his cold breath along with the wetness of his tongue, lapping at your healed wound. You sense what he wants to do and although you crave it and you would let him do it, you don’t wanna give in so easily.

You stop all motion and with him buried deep inside of you, your hand lingering in his hair grabs a handful of curls to pull him back, away from your prized neck, holding him in place.

He growls insistently, his true nature coming back to him.

“Give me one good reason,” you tug harder.

Through his ragged breath, he smiles playfully, “I just wanted a snack for the road.”

“You drank last night, you don’t need it,” your tone comes out raspy and aggressive despite your enjoyment of the situation.

“But you want this,” he pauses, watching your reaction. Your answer isn’t spoken, as much as it’s seen : your chest rises higher with each panting breath you take, your eyes flutter, drunk on lust, and your core is dripping wet, your combined fluids leaking against your leg. “Don't you?” He knows both of you know it's a fight for control.

You thrust roughly, once, to reassert your position over him, making him whimper. “And just what makes you think that?”

He locks eyes with you, a grin painting over his face. “You seemed to enjoy it last time.”

“Hardly.”

“My dear, you can deny it all you want, but I can read you like an open book.”

You hated how he always managed to have the last word. One day, you tell yourself, It’ll be me. But for now…

“Shut up and bite me.”

The second you let go of your grasp in his hair, Astarion dives in the nook of your neck, plunging his fangs in your pulsating vein. You cry out at the sharp sting you feel and once the initial pain settles in, you pick back up the rhythm you had earlier, making the elf groan as he drinks you in. He was right, his bites had the effect of an aphrodisiac on you. You would never tell him though, his ego was inflated enough as is, admitting it would only make him more insufferable than he already is.

His hold on you became tighter and the more he drank, the less your strength allowed you to keep your position, but the build up down your stomach only grew. You didn't want to falter so close to the end.

“Astarion…” you warn him.

He growls against your neck and takes one last sip of your liquid gold before removing his fangs from you, licking off the new wound he created to clean you up. That's something else you could appreciate from the vampire ; no matter how selfish you found him, he did seem to respect the boundaries you established. He would absolutely push all of your buttons but when it came to sex he seemed more attentive, responsive. You never wanted to fall for him, but your heart had other plans.

You cross your arms around his neck, closing any remaining distance between your two bodies and with all the energy left in you, you thrust harder, and faster, letting yourself get lost in the overwhelming feeling he provided between your legs. Now that you had experienced him once, you craved getting filled up by him, only him, as much as possible, as much as he wanted to. You wanted to be his.

“Darling, I’m close–”

“Come, let go for me,” you breathe in his ear before licking him again. “You’re so pretty when you come inside me.”

Your last words combined with the stimulation you’ve given him trigger his collapse in your arms. He grasps your hips vigorously, pulling you flush against him, allowing him to unload himself deep inside of your womb. You fall over the edge shortly after, drinking in the feeling of his semen filling you up. You fantasized constantly about being filled to the brim by him. Used over and over again, leaking from his seed, the act merely done to defile you in his image. You clench around his length, your legs shaking as you picture yourself overflowing with his come and ride out the wave of electrifying pleasure that courses through you.

As you come down from your high and let your leg down, you reach for something to grab a hold of so as to not completely fall over. Astarion had completely slouched over the wall you fucked him over, he was not an option. The nearest thing that seemed solid enough was an empty torch holder placed right next to the door which you grab without second thoughts. The last thing you expected was for it to pull down as you grabbed it. Even less that it opened a secret trap door in the middle of the room, from which a pillar came out of. You stay in place for a moment, piecing together what just happened, with Astarion making eye contact with you, just as puzzled as you were.

Before you now stands an altar with a very clearly placed piece of dark metal, shaped strangely like the pattern you remember being described in the previous document you found. You put your trousers back on, dismissing the mess between your legs, and grab the missing piece, connecting it to the artifact you held, to see it click in place.

“No fucking way.”

Astarion smirks, as if he was responsible for your discovery, proud of himself, “Wouldn’t have found that out with Karlach now, would you?”

He will never let you live this down.

When you're around me, I'm radioactive

My blood is burning, radioactive

I'm turning radioactive

My blood is radioactive

My heart is nuclear

Love is all that I fear

#my posts #my writing #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #astarion smut #self insert #bg3 fanfic #smut #Spotify

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starlightsearches · 1 year

Note

requesting reader asking bf eddie to do his eyeliner n he says yes but only if they will sit on his lap while doing it!! if it gets spicy i absolutely dont mind!! also no rush!!!

AO3 Request: What about one where the reader is painting Eddie’s nails black for him after watching him struggle and somehow in between them drying they start making out and it turns a little NSFW and something about “Don’t, you’ll fuck the paint up.”

Looks That Kill

Thanks for the request, friends, and even more thanks for your patience!! Hope you enjoy 😚

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: very very horny but not really smutty (18+ only please), language, Eddie is a SIMP always and forever, hints at sub! eddie, finger sucking, I know licking nail polish to smooth is out is gross but sometimes it's just what you do, okay??, mentions of impact play, some unfortunate cockblocking, and i think that's it! If I missed anything let me know uwu

"Jesus- fuck."

The eyeliner pencil slips from Eddie's fingers, again, clattering against the basin of the sink and leaving little black smudges around the porcelain before it slowly comes to a stop. He rubs the matching smudge off the corner of his eye with his thumb, smearing black down his cheek.

Normally, this is the point where he'd give up. If this were a gig at The Hideout, he wouldn't have even bothered to try with the makeup— would have rolled out of bed an hour before, still half high for another fucking show of watered-down covers.

But this is not just some show.

"You good, Eds?"

Your head pops into the shitty motel bathroom, drying your nails with pursed lips painted dark, perfectly-lined eyes meeting his own. Eddie shivers like you’ve got your hands on him, even though it's just the slow up and down trace of your eyes.

He knows what the look you give him means. You're trying to figure out what his problem is.

There's an immediate reminder of the secret he's been trying to keep from himself—that he's got more to be nervous about than this show and maybe a record deal and trying to put a little, black crayon by his eyeball.

"How do you even do this shit?" Eddie asks, holding the eyeliner in a tight fist like he's trying to choke it.

"It just takes practice."

You lean up against the door frame, unphased, because nothing ever gets to you. Not nerves, not shitty guys at shows, not late nights spent driving or hours in the van with nothing to look at but corn fields.

With Eddie, it's the opposite. Everything gets to him. Especially you.

He knew it was a bad idea, letting you take Grant’s spot when he went off for college. The guys were a second family to him, and the idea of replacing any of them always felt weird, like finding out your dad has a new girlfriend, and he wants you to call her mom.

But Corroded Coffin needed a bassist. And you could play—could play so good he’s pretty sure he’s been in love with you since that first note hit him in the chest.

It doesn't help that you're so fucking pretty, with your over the knee boots and those short, short skirts and fishnet tights that have him biting into the meat of his palm when you're not looking.

It doesn't help that Jeff and Gareth know way too much about his little problem, and still took the other room, leaving him high and dry.

"I don't have time for practice," he grumbles, mostly to himself, capping the eyeliner again and planting his hands against the counter.

It's not like anybody in the crowd would care if he had eyeliner on or not. Openers never got that much attention anyways. The record studio guy might be too high to even notice the name of the band, let alone what any of you looked like.

But Eddie cares. When he steps out on that stage, he wants to feel like he belongs there.

He catches you staring at him in the mirror, chewing pensively on your bottom lip, brushing a few hairs back behind your ear. You've got it just barely secured—like you always do before a show—knowing by the end of it you'll have all the loose strands sticking to your sweaty skin, making sure that everybody in the audience (and at least one of the guys on stage) can't think about anything else but fucking you.

There's a moment of prolonged eye contact between you that has Eddie glad the shirt he's wearing is black, so you won't see him sweat.

You push off the wall behind you, sliding up beside him at the counter. "Scoot over."

Eddie does, watching you take a little hop up onto the counter, shimmying the hem of your dress back down over your thighs, the fabric tight enough when you spread your legs he wonders if it'll pop at the seams.

Jesus.

"C'mere."

And Eddie gets what's going on—or he thinks he does—but it's like he can't get his legs to listen, stumbling toward you like a baby deer until his legs are just brushing your knees.

You roll your eyes at him. "Closer."

He lets out a little yelp when you tug at his wrist, pulling him in, widening your legs until there's enough room for his hips. There's a quiet sound, like fabric tearing, but maybe that's just leftover brain-rot from all the porn he watched in high school.

Your thighs close around his hips, and they're so fucking pillowy, molding against him. One of your ankles curls around the back of his knee. Eddie wonders if you can feel how close he is to buckling.

You're so fucking chill about it all, though, taking the eyeliner in one hand, gripping his chin in the other until you're almost nose to nose. It's just clouds of your shampoo and the smell of cherry-scented lip gloss Eddie'd snatched from the counter the second you stepped out of the room. Spread over the back of his hand, watched it shine in the light before immediately licking off. He needed to know what it tasted like.

You've got the pad of your thumb pressed into the soft skin under his eye, swiping away the evidence from one of his hundred other attempts.

"Look up," you tell him, catching his lashes gently under your finger when he obeys, "and stay still."

He's got no other choice. Eddie knows if he makes the slightest move, he'll feel your body move against his, and that'll have him popping a boner so fast he might lose consciousness.

One eye, and then the other—you swipe the pencil around his lash line so fast it would make him dizzy if he dared to look. The cap snaps back over the top of the eyeliner, and you drop it back into the bag.

"All done, rockstar," you tell him with a tap on the cheek, "check yourself out."

Eddie leans around you, trying to get a good look in the mirror, but his balance is all off. He's gonna fall on his ass, a thought almost too embarrassing to name, and he catches himself on the closest thing he can grab at.

Your thigh dents too pretty underneath his fingers, the backs of his rings snagging against one of the strings on your fishnets.

Fuck. Eddie's gotta play it off or he'll look like a tool—fucking about to faint because a girl is touching him—which means he's gotta keep his hand there, even if his vision is going dark at the edges. He can hardly see his own reflection.

"What d'you think?" he asks instead.

You're smiling, but in that way that has Eddie questioning everything you say, like it's all some fucked up riddle designed to torture him.

"It's sexy, Eds. You look great."

He just rolls his eyes. It's sexy, Eds. You're so fucking sexy, Eddie, and I need you to take me on this motel bathroom sink and fuck me for hours or I'm gonna claw my eyes out.

Yeah right. In his dreams, maybe.

But you didn't push his hand away, either. Let him cop a feel and you didn't even shrink away from him, or hurl. So maybe he's just being a mean little bitch to himself for the fun of it.

"Anything else?"

Yeah, Eddie thinks, slap me hard across the face then kiss it better.

But that's not really in the cards for tonight, so his eyes flash around the bathroom, landing on the black bottle of polish you brought in with you. Eddie raises his free hand, the one not on your thigh—which will stay there until he dies if he gets his way—spreading his fingers wide. "How 'bout a manicure?"

Your fingers grip at Eddie's hand, coating each of his nails with one clean swipe of the polish, breathing in deep and slow while the room floods with the scent of acetone.

"Blow," you command, placing his nails in front of his lips before you grab the other hand. Eddie's more than happy to do what he's told.

He watches you, watches the way your brows knit together, totally focused on perfection.

"You know," —your breath puffs against his knuckles, voice all quiet, "you don't need any of this shit, right? You're gonna blow it out of the fucking water, like you always do."

Eddie hopes his nails are dry already, because he's got no more breath in his lungs, just barely managing to gasp out a word.

"Oh."

You glance up at him through your lashes, and past your cool exterior and the twenty layers of apathetic irony bassists always seem to have, he knows you mean it.

Eddie flinches, hand slipping against yours. When you pull back, there's a big black smear across your thumb.

"Oh, damn, sorry."

He's left a dent in the polish on his middle finger, pushed some of the already-dry paint around until a sliver of his real nail was visible beneath.

"Don't worry about it."

If Eddie had a thousand years and unlimited guesses, he still wouldn't have come up with what you do next—taking his middle finger in your hand, pulling it toward your lips.

Your mouth is wet, and warm around his finger, and maybe Eddie moans when you suck at his skin but the roaring in his ears is too loud for him to be sure. All he knows is that he'll never need another dirty magazine or porno for the rest of his life. He's gonna be jerking off to this exact feeling forever.

Your tongue drags flat across his nail, and when you pull the digit from your mouth—all wet and shiny with your spit and stained purple with lipstick—the polish looks good as new.

"Tastes like shit, but it works," you tell him, leaning over to spit in the sink.

There's a smirk on your lips when you turn back to face him. Eddie feels like such an idiot.

All those times you'd bent over in those short skirts, gripped at his thigh while you reached for a pencil, or one of those discarded pages of lyrics on his bedroom floor and he'd sit there, staring at the ceiling and trying to name all the state's capitals so he wouldn't be sporting a boner hard enough you could see it through his jeans.

You were fucking with him this entire time.

He could have been fucking you this entire time.

"Jesus," he says, "you're a fucking tease."

You smile wider, tightening the grip of your thighs. "Maybe I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to get the fucking hint."

Eddie braces himself against the counter with both hands when he leans forward, nudging your mouth towards his with the tip of his nose and just diving in, no backup plan, no parachute. He's all in, crushing his body against yours until his hips ache against the sharp edge of the counter.

You're kissing him back, cupping your palms around his jaw, smearing that cherry lip gloss all around his mouth with the way you get into it. Breathing heavy against his cheek, slipping your tongue past his lips and tapping it against the edge of his teeth.

He grabs at your thighs—desperate and totally indifferent if you know it—pulling at you until your hips bump against his, skirt riding up again until it's sitting in the dip between your stomach and the tops of your thighs.

He slides a hand up the lattice of your tights, climbing higher and higher, so close to your cunt he can feel the heat caught up in the space between your legs.

You drop a hand from his face, press against his wrist, gasping out the words between the harsh crush of his mouth.

"Don't. You'll fuck up the paint."

Eddie shakes his head. "Don't care."

You pull back, scrunching your nose at him indignantly.

"I do."

There's a knock on the door, timing so perfect it's like you summoned it. Gareth's voice calls out through the thin walls, saying something along the lines of, "showtime, motherfuckers."

"Fuck that," Eddie lets out a hard sigh through his nose as you slide off the counter, but he makes space for you to slip out from between his arms. He watches you, leaning back against the counter while you wipe off the smeared lipstick with a washcloth, moving in close to reapply.

He couldn't give two shits about the show now.

You snap the cap back on the tube, hand him the stained rag so he can clean himself up. It turns his skin red where he rubs at the sticky stain, but he gets his first real glance at the eyeliner. It looks pretty metal.

You catch Eddie by the collar just before he's about to step out of the bathroom, two fingers sliding against his skin, pulling him close.

"Listen," —and Eddie is, feeling your lipstick brushing over the shell of his ear— "you get us this record deal, and you can do whatever you want to me tonight."

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