#jim pace x you

[xcaptain-winterx]

Babes 🖤 can I request something super fluffy and cuddly and loving with Jimmy? Maybe like reader or OC is overworked (job or uni), feels anxious about the still remaining amount of work and is touch deprived? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Love you 🥰

I love you too, sweetheart🥰💛

Cuddle To Go

summary: above

warnings: fluff, stress, mentioning of smut, mentioning of men’s wieners

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Masterlist 2 Jim Pace Masterlist

You hate people more than anything, ok, not hate hate, but hate. Since June, you’ve been working on your new collection for the Berlin fashion week, and it was going great until it wasn’t. Apparently you forgot some designs. Not one, not two, or three, but twenty-one! Now you have to come up with twenty-one more looks, then order the fabrics, book more models, and more. All this needs to be done in three weeks, in which you will not get any sleep. To that comes the fact that you’re currently uninspired. The looks you already designed are inspired by the 18th century and took you months to design.

You let out a scream of frustration as you throw another sketch in the trash. The bin is already full of failed designs. Either they don’t match the rest of the collection, don’t follow the theme, or are just straight-up bad.

You are close to crying at this point; everything is going wrong. How could you be so stupid and forget about it? You should’ve focused more on work and not on anything else. Or anyone.

The table moves as your phone starts to vibrate, making you let out an annoyed growl. You ignore it and continue trying to design something good. A few seconds later, the phone stops vibrating, and the only sound throughout your apartment is the ticking of the clock, which is formally telling you that your time is running out.

You try to think of something that would be runway acceptable.

Something

Anything

God

One thing

Think

Think

Think, Goddammit!

Why can’t you just do one thing right in your life! First you forgot about the designs, and now you can’t even think about some new designs! You should’ve never gotten distracted in the first place.

“Babe, where are you?”

Oh great. There’s the distraction. The reason you forgot about the show. The reason you couldn’t walk.

“Babe!” Jim screams again, confused as to why you’re not answering. Normally, you greet him at the door and give him a kiss. He’s often gone for some weeks because of his job, and with you, traveling for fashion shows, it happens that you don’t see each other for a month. You both always make sure to make up for the missed time. You spend hours showing each other how much you missed them.

Jim quickly walks through the whole apartment, a slight panic setting within him. The panic vanishes though, when he finds you in his office, the office you claimed as your office. A smile spreads on his face when he finally sees you, hunched over the table, wearing one of his dress shirts and women boxer shorts. Jim ignores the urge to take you from behind and empty his load inside you as he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“Hey, babe. Are you ok? You didn’t answer me”, he asks, rubbing soft circles on your stomach. It surprises him when you suddenly trash in his arms until you break yourself free from his embrace. “Hey!”

“God, stop that, Pace!” you hiss, not even trying to hide the frustration in your face or the annoyed face you make.

Jim looks at you confused as to why you are frustrated right now. Did he do something? Is he the reason you are acting like how women are portrayed on TV when they are having their periods. God, he hates male directors.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with patience and a soft voice, knowing that if he shows any irritation, it will get worse. He reaches for your hand only for you to slap it away, “Y/n”

“Can you please stop that, I don’t have time for that” you say, turning around and grabbing your pen again, ready to sketch something that will probably end up in the trash.

Jim puts his hands on his hips, this is not how he imagined his welcome home would be. Instead of ruining the carpet with some well deserved and passionate sex or even brutal fucking or at least some making out, he comes home to find his girlfriend in a bad mood. He doesn’t like that. Not because he doesn’t get to have some adult playtime with you, but rather because he hates seeing you unhappy.

“Babe” he tries again, “what going on?”. You give him no reaction, which makes Jim let out a groan. You roll your eyes as you hear his groan, but unknown to you, he has seen your eye roll in the reflection of the window.

Stupid Sierras

“Y/n” he goes for what feels like the hundredth time, “tell me what happened”.

“YOU HAPPENED!” you scream, turning around and facing him.

Jim stands there shocked; he didn’t expect you to have an outburst like that. He doesn’t remember that he did anything that could’ve led to you being this mad. He’s sure that he didn’t leave the toilet seat open when he left. He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“YOUR DICK HAPPENED!” you scream out, while pointing towards his crotch.

His eyes follow to where you’re pointing before looking back at you “my dick happened?”. He’s fucking confused.

“Yes, your fucking dick happened, you dick”

Jim tries to think of any outcome that could lead to you being like this because of his dick that has been in you weeks ago.

“Are you pregnant?”

Wrong

“WHAT!” you say, suddenly feeling more insecure than frustrated because of work, “do I look fat?!”

Taking your reaction into account, his assumption was wrong and brought him into a deadly situation. “No, no no no, I just thought that your emotional- no uh-just expression your emotions like that because of hormones- the intense feeling of uhm- growing life inside you”. Jim would like to shoot himself right now for sounding so stupid. “You look beautiful as always”, he shoots you a smile, hoping that at least that can make you feel more ‘comfortable’.

A exhausted sigh leaves your mouth, and you grab the half sketched design, “I need to have twenty-one looks, and I only have a maximum of three weeks for that.”

“I thought you already had all the looks?”

“I thought so too, but no, I didn’t” you say, slamming the sketch down, “and everything I sketch looks like shit-”.

Before you can say another word, Jim pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around you, “shh, it’s ok”.

You sink into his chest, face completely smooshed in his shirt, hiding from the world. He strokes your hair, kissing your head every other second and swaying a bit. When you finally decide to leave your hiding place, you see that you left a fat mascara stain on his white shirt. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “Sorry about your shirt, baby” you whisper, feeling embarrassed by the whole situation.

“It’s ok, love” he whips your tears away before giving each cheek a kiss and finally kissing your lips, “maybe you should take a break. How long have you been working?”

You look at the clock on the wall and see it’s 10:43 p.m., “about 16 hours, but-“.

The moment Jim hears how many hours you’ve been working, he picks you up, ignoring your gasp, and carries you to the living room. When he gets there, he lays you on the couch before squeezing in next to you and pulling you on top of him.

You desperately fight the urge to just relax, but the warmth of his body, his rich cologne, and the touch of his fingers drawing circles on your back makes it hard.

“You’re done with work for today, babe”

You can only give a small ‘ok’ due to the exhaustion that is just starting to show right now. Maybe it was stupid of you to work that long, knowing that you can’t come up with good ideas when you’re stressed and tired.

“Do you want me to call the concierge to get us some food, or something else?”, he ask.

“Later”, you move so your head is in the crouch of his neck, “I only need this right now”.

He chuckles, “ok, love”. He feels your eyes closing, your lashes tickling his neck.

It’s silent until Jim decides that he needs to ask you something before you fall sleep.

“So, my dick is such a huge problem that you forgot about your passion for designing and half of your collection”.

He yelps as you pinch his side. This man doesn’t care if he gets shot, but he yelps when he feels a pinch.

“Shh, Jim. We can talk about it later”, you say amused, with still closed eyes.

“Whatever you say, love”, he goes before closing his eyes too, smiling when you give him a soft kiss on his adam’s apple before drifting off into a soft slumber.

#callan mulvey characters #callan mulvey #callan mulvey x y/n #callan mulvey x reader #the gray man sierra four #sierra four #sierra four x reader #sierra four x y/n #sierra four x you #jim pace x you #jim pace #jim pace x y/n #jim pace x reader #💛

[ghost-proofbaby]

friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day. 

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day. 

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination. 

Today’s the day. 

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him. 

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones. 

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced. 

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out. 

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months. 

He showed up in the last two months. 

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table. 

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair. 

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with. 

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest. 

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day. 

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know? 

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles. 

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.” 

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were. 

“This is getting painful to watch.” 

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows. 

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop. 

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night. 

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality. 

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down. 

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink  background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it. 

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.” 

“You don’t scare me, Chris.” 

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.” 

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction. 

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards. 

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon. 

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances. 

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable. 

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident. 

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental. 

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop. 

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table. 

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?” 

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind. 

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack. 

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook. 

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.  

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride. 

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door. 

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.” 

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.” 

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.” 

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated. 

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration. 

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart. 

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.” 

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.” 

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt. 

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him. 

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with. 

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong. 

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least. 

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date. 

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?” 

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?” 

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot. 

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.” 

“Who?” 

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins. 

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie. 

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?” 

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.” 

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying. 

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you. 

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts. 

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.” 

“Did you tell him?” 

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.” 

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all. 

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends. 

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly. 

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real. 

 When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for. 

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre. 

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed. 

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup. 

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey. 

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.” 

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.” 

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?” 

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams. 

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.” 

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it. 

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day. 

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.” 

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name. 

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.” 

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating. 

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again. 

“Say, is this seat taken?” 

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you. 

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours. 

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.” 

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring. 

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy. 

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?” 

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.” 

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah.” 

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger. 

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter. 

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.” 

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst. 

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.” 

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone. 

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name. 

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.” 

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile. 

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again. 

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder. 

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind. 

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-” 

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly. 

“It’s raining,” you murmur. 

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.” 

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?” 

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.” 

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.” 

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.” 

Oh, your grin grows. 

“What else did you notice?” 

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.” 

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?” 

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.” 

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.” 

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?” 

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning. 

“Capiche.” 

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

#3k celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #see? i still write! #proof i'm literate

[darthannie]

day four: creampie with Jim

pairing: Jim (the delinquent season) x f!reader word count: 912 warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, L-bombs teehee, smut(duh), Jim is possessive a/n: Finally, something kinda soft. I need Jim so bad it’s not even funny. He and I are endgame.

kinktober masterlist

“God, it’s absolutely freezing out there.” You walked into Jim’s apartment and shrugged off your wet raincoat. You hung it up to dry at the entryway and took off your shoes, leaving them to dry as well. 

Jim stood to the side and waited for you to acknowledge him. When you finally looked at him he opened his arms and you gladly accepted his embrace. He gave you a quick kiss and then you both made your way to the couch. You threw yourself down and he sat next to you. You cuddled into his side and he put his arm around you. 

This was the usual routine. You had both recently made your relationship official, but not much had changed. Your relationship was that of an old married couple, though there was less bickering. You could see your relationship going for the long haul, and the prospect was as exciting as it was petrifying. 

You and Jim had your typical end-of-week debrief. He told you about a new book he was reading, and you told him about a new dish you were planning on making. He mentioned how you should both make it together at his apartment. 

You looked up at him and grinned “That’s a great idea. I’ll finally be able to cook you dinner.”

He looked at you with a soft gaze. There was something on his mind. You looked at him confused and then he said it.

“I love you,” he blurted out. “I am so in love with you.”

Your mouth opened slightly; you were in a state of shock. He hadn’t said it before, so you hadn’t bothered, but hearing it from him now was like a bomb had dropped. You took a moment before you replied. 

“I love you, too,” you took a breath, “I love you so much.”

He gave a little wag of his head, “Come here.”

He pulled you in for a kiss and he was glad he did. That one kiss turned into a make out session on the couch. Things got heated fast and soon your shirt was off. Then his was too. Somewhere along the way the button of his pants was getting undone and he stopped you. 

“Not here. Bedroom”

He practically dragged you over to his bed. Once you were settled on the bed he took his shirt off, followed by his pants and underwear. He grabbed your pants and underwear by the waistband and pulled them down. You giggled at his sudden forwardness. He flipped you on your hands and knees, making you face away from him.

He grabbed your hips and entered you. Your moans came with every thrust. You didn’t mean to, but you were completely in sync with him.

He used to fingers to touch your clit while he fucked you. It was so much at once that your arms faltered, causing you to collapse in the bed, back arched. This let Jim reach a whole new spot, causing a chill to run through your body. 

He pulled out and you whined. 

“Jim, fuck, keep going.”

“On your back. Need to look at you.”

He helped you onto your back. He wanted to look at your face while he fucked you. He interlaced his fingers with yours and pinned your arms down. This time it felt different. Romantic. 

“You are so beautiful,” he said with all the sincerity in the world.

His ragged breath turned into shaky moans and sweet nothings as he set a fast pace. He kept repeating mine, all mine, you’re all mine. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from being too loud. You liked hearing the sounds your bodies made together. You could tell when he was close, he started getting sloppy. His usual breathy moans became fully voiced. He said your name like it was a prayer falling from his lips. 

To both of your surprise, he came inside you. And it was a lot. Neither of you had agreed to it, nor had you thought of the consequences. It just happened. You came soon after him and you bucked your hips towards him as you did. It felt warmer than usual. No one had ever cum inside you before.

He untangled his fingers from yours and sat up, still inside you. He ran his hands down the sides of your body. Your breathing settled and so did his. This was brand new territory. Unsure how to proceed, he tried to snap the tension with a joke, “Well, I guess now it’s time to enjoy the show.”

You laughed lightheartedly and he pulled out. His cum pooled out of you. You saw his cock twitch as he watched what he had done. You tightened your muscles and more dripped out. You reached down to try and push some of it back in. You started fingering yourself, mixing your wetness with his cum. That did him in. He watched and stroked himself. When he was fully hard again he leaned down and kissed you. He moved to your neck and nipped at the skin, careful not to leave any marks. He shooed your hand away from your pussy and positioned his tip at your wet hole. He watched as he slipped in with no resistance.

He was getting drunk on the pleasure. At that moment he decided he was going to see how many times he could watch his seed drip from your cunt in a single night. 

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthologyy, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting, @flwrs4aust

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#kinktober ‘23 #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #jim delinquent season #jim the delinquent season #jim the delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season x f!reader #jim delinquent season x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader | One morning after waking up beside Hopper, you notice his morning 🪵. You remember him mentioning something he wanted to try awhile ago, so you decide to indulge his fantasy…

It was impossible to miss; you noticed it the moment you woke up. The sheet covering Hopper’s naked body and yours was very obviously tented below his waist. You yawned softly, stretching your arms over your head. The sheet dipped and rose ever-so-subtly as Hopper’s cock bobbed under the fabric…

You wet your lips, eyes gliding up and down his sleeping form. Hopper had told you once that he’d always wanted to wake up with his dick in your mouth. But that was so long ago, the memory of Hopper mentioning it had faded from your mind. Today, however, presented you with a perfect opportunity to make his fantasy a reality.

Slipping a hand below the sheet, you gently pulled the fabric aside. Hopper’s erection pointed sturdy and thick towards the ceiling, a bead of precum dotting his tip. You felt him stir slightly, his body probably reacting to the change in temperature from having the warm sheet pulled from his waist.

You knelt your cheek against Hopper’s thigh, and pulled the sheet over your head, covering his legs again. Under the covers, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse hair on Hopper’s thigh, pressing a light kiss there. He stirred again very slightly, grunting in his sleep and murmuring something drowsy and unintelligible. You cupped a hand over your mouth and tried not to giggle at Hopper’s babbling, focusing instead on your task.

Pressing forward under the covers, your lips met Hopper’s cock in a soft kiss. He pulsed in response to the stimulation, stiffening and tapping against your lips. You smiled hungrily, and closed your mouth around his shaft. You slowly massaged Hopper’s girth from balls to tip, and back down again.

Hopper groaned, his legs twitching slightly under the covers. You slid your mouth along his shaft, tracing the veins in Hopper’s cock with your tongue. You added soft kitten licks to his tip, peppering it in kisses. Hopper throbbed against your mouth, his tip smearing precum over your lips like a gloss.

You sank your mouth over Hopper’s cock, taking the first four inches down your throat easily. His body jerked slightly, his breathing going deeper. A new tension stiffened Hopper’s thighs beneath your breasts, which were pressed soft and warm against him as your mouth serviced his cock.

Tugging him deeper with a firm, consistent suck, you were able to take a few more inches before your gag reflex activated. You let Hopper’s tip spread the muscles in your throat, smiling around his cock when you heard his familiar, drowsy voice mumble your name.

Hopper reached beneath the covers and laced his fingers through your hair. Holding your head in place, he elevated his hips to fuck up into your throat. “Good baby, y’suck it so fuckin’ good…” Hopper murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep. He guided your mouth up and down his shaft, grunting each time his thrusts tapped the back of your throat.

The pace of Hopper’s breathing had increased, his grip in your hair tightening. You could tell he was getting close, so you sucked even harder. Hopper’s knees bucked, his thighs closing around your head. His thrusts were sloppy and slow at first; but as the haze of waking began to fade, Hopper’s thrusts grew sharper, determined. He pressed your face deeper into the wiry hair at the base of his cock, your nose bumping his stomach with each punch of his hips.

“Christ-I’m gonna come-,” Hopper groaned. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, as warm semen sprayed the back of your throat and slid down to your stomach. You licked the rest of his cum from his belly, the tension in Hopper’s body dissolving in the warm afterglow of orgasm.

He pulled the sheet aside, revealing your ruddy face and slick, satisfied smile. “Good morning, baby,” Hopper grinned down at you. “Good morning, Hop,” you replied. He slid his hands under your arms and lifted you up, making you giggle in surprise. Flipping you onto your back, Hopper adjusted himself on the bed so his face was nestled between your thighs.

“Don’t you have work today, Chief?” you teased. “They’re gonna wonder why you’re taking so long to get-ahh!” You gasped as Hopper’ tongue made a long swipe across your pussy, silencing you. He smirked arrogantly up at you from between your thighs. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he asked coyly.

“-to the station,” you replied breathlessly. “They’ll miss you at the-ungh!!”

Hopper plunged his tongue between your lips, cutting your sentence short again. “They can wait awhile longer,” he murmured, his cheek resting against your thigh. “Besides…” Hopper trailed kisses from your thigh to your belly button and below, his lips lingering above your clit. “…I haven’t had my breakfast yet...”

#stranger things #jim hopper #stranger things smut #david harbour #hopper smut #jim hopper smut #hopper x fem reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper x fem!reader #hopper x y/n #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #hopper x you #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #hopper stranger things

[moonlightsolo]

eddie the bloody-handed II

summary: eddie gave into his urges to feed on you, but when you wake up, are you going to be upset with him for his choice?

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: mention of blood, angst, depictions of pain, insinuated smut at the end, lil suggestive, reader and eddie being a cute lil vamp couple

note: thank u sososo much for all the love on the first part ily all!!!!

the venom introduced into your cardiovascular system is attacking the last of your blood cells, sizzling out the rest of the life from inside of you. your body is unable to move from being paralyzed in your own mind, your nerve-endings and consciousness screaming at you to wake up. 

blazing fire burns in your veins, as if molten lava is being pumping into your body through an intravenous needle. the severe burning sensation travels deep through your body. it's the most excruciating pain you have ever experienced throughout your entire existence.

once you change, that addicting blood of yours won’t tempt him anymore. even though, a little part in the back of his brain is whispering to him to bite you again, to get one last taste, but he refuses to hurt you. guilt sits heavy in the boys heart, making the dormant organ ache in his chest. 

once you change, that addicting blood of yours won’t tempt him anymore. even though, a little part in the back of his brain is whispering to him to bite you again, to get one last taste, but he refuses to hurt you. guilt sits heavy in the boys heart, making the dormant organ ache in his chest. 

once you change, that addicting blood of yours won’t tempt him anymore. even though, a little part in the back of his brain is whispering to him to bite you again, to get one last taste, but he refuses to hurt you. guilt sits heavy in the boys heart, making the dormant organ ache in his chest. 

-

“i can’t believe you went down there without me. i wanted to go!” dustin’s hormonal voice squeaks dramatically as he shouts at hopper and steve. his eyes are teary from just hearing the news his best friend has risen from the dead. 

henderson paces in the cabin’s living room, mumbling under his breath. his brain is working a mile a minute, using his smarts to figure out the situation.

“look, he took her. i don’t know where… but he flew away. it’s not that easy to chase after him, you know.” jim attempts to calm down dustin, hand resting  his forehead and temple. hopper sucks in deep breaths through his nose, nostrils flaring out of frustration.

“flew?” will, dustin, and mike yell in unison. 

“he has wings!” steve exclaims, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly. 

“so you’re telling us.. eddie is alive? and he’s some sort of bat, slash vampire, slash upside down monster?” dustin rambles on, hands moving erratically as he talks. his wild eyes are still trained on the ground as he strides back and forth.

“yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” steve shrugs. 

“screw all of you, i’m going down there.” dustin storms off, pushing angrily through hopper and steve. mike, eleven and will quickly follow him to their bikes, not listening to hoppers protests. they’ll find an open gate somewhere in this cursed town.

-

everything in your body goes silent, the pain fades away, and your heartbeat ceases in its wake. the ringing in your ears goes mute as you gradually awaken, the sound of muffled thunder drawing you back to reality. 

the feeling of wind whooshing above you makes your eyes flutter open, squinting at the blurry silhouette of a person hovering above you. 

eddie is staring at you, his doe-like eyes are wide as he tries to read your emotions through your awakening face. his wings are extended from flying himself over to you, curiosity and fear written on his features. 

at first, you’re unsure of what happened. there’s an uncomfortable feeling of your hair pulling on the stickiness of something dried on your neck, “eddie…” your voice is hoarse, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut. 

one of his hands come down to cup your cheek, but you instinctively pull away from his advances. his dark eyebrows furrow in confusion, wings curling up coyly behind his back, “baby, are you alright?” 

you weakly slide your hand up your body to your neck, touching the side of it to peel away your hair. even with your blurred vision, you can’t help but notice your blackened fingertips. something isn’t right. 

your eyesight clears as the past events finally rush back to you, everything clicks into place; falling asleep in his arms, him waking you up by biting you, the pain of his fangs feasting on your neck, and then your memory goes black. fury grows hot throughout your chest, rising up to your ears and settling on your cheeks. 

“what did you do?” your voice drops in octave, making eddie wince from your irate tone. you begin to sit up slowly, almost nose to nose with him as you stare him down with pure anger in your eyes. 

“eddie, what the fuck did you do to me?”

“baby, please- just listen-.” he tries to plead to you, backing up as you follow him closely. the look in your newly reddened eyes terrifies him.

your tongue runs across your top row of front teeth, feeling the sharp pointed ends of your canines press into the muscle. your eyes flash back up to him, arms reeling back to push roughly at his chest.

from your brute strength, he stumbles backwards off your bed. his eyes blow up even wider and mouth falling slightly agape in shock,  “sweetheart, please.” your newfound power catches you and eddie slightly off guard, but you could care less- all you want to do is scream at him, maybe even punch him right in that perfect jaw of his. 

your leg slithers off the side of the vine ridden bed, shoulders rising and falling as your anger  builds higher, “do NOT call me sweetheart!” you shout at him, pointing a shaky index finger at him. eddie shutters from you raising your voice at him, face dropping dismally in return.

in the span of seconds, every thought about your future rushes to your head. 

has the choice to have children of your own someday been taken away? are you ever going to see your family again? or even be able to feel the sunlight kissing your skin?

your bottom lip quivers, hot tears building up on your waterline, “you had no right to do this to me! no fucking right!” your voice shudders, gulping down the lump growing in your throat. 

“i know. i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry, baby.” his hands tremble as he reaches out for you, feeling his own emotions building up from the overbearing regret squeezing at his heart.

all you want to do is be in his arms, for him to comfort you and tell you everything will be alright. you stare down at his hands for a moment, admiring his familiar rings that you wish to feel pressing into your skin.  

instead of reaching out to him, your fingers rise to gently press against the wound on your neck. no pain surges from your tender touch, realizing that the two marks from his teeth has already scarred over. 

your eyes glance behind you to look at your back, noticing two smaller wings drooping low and mimicking your saddened emotions. they aren’t as large as eddie’s, probably not strong enough to hold your body weight in the sky. 

“i got carried away, something else came over me… something- something like a wild animal. i should have fought it, baby, but i didn’t… never meant to hurt you, or cause you pain- i was just so hungry, and so lonely.” he hurriedly rushes out to speak, his perfectly plump lips turned down as he rambles. 

something about him begging for forgiveness makes you yearn for his touch. you’ve never gotten into an argument with eddie, other than small ones about stupid things like who gets to sleep on a specific side of the bed.

guilt bubbles in your chest from shoving eddie away from you, realizing some sort of otherworldly anger had taken over your body. 

you shuffle towards him, hanging your head as you weep silently. his arms hesitantly wrap around your smaller frame, hands squeezing your shoulders before bringing you into his chest, “i love you so much.” his hand caresses the back of your head, smoothing over your hair. 

“i love you.” your voice is quiet, shaky from the soft crying still exuding from you.

“i’m sorry i put my hands on you.” you mumble out into his chest, arms finally snaking around his slender waist. 

“i deserve it.” he almost chuckles out, sniffling slightly from his running nose. your tears soak into his dirty shirt, hands gripping the muscles in his back as if you’d fall away from him. 

eddie’s hand carefully rest upon the dip of your waist, thumb rubbing circles against your skin under your shirt, “now we’re the same temperature.” he points out, which makes you lift your head with a scowl on your expression, “too soon?” he questions with his lips stretched tight. 

“way too soon.” you slightly laugh, dipping your head back underneath his chin to snuggle into him. after a few moments of standing in silence together, eddie pulls away to grab your hand. 

“wanna fly?” 

his words make you perk up, glancing back at your wimpy wings before looking back at him questionably, “mine were like that too, but trust me, they’re stronger than they look.” he flashes his sharp pearly smile at you, excitedly tugging you out of your room. 

once you’re both stood on your front doorstep, your head reclines to stare up into the eerie sky. eddie’s wings begin to flap behind him, sending his body upwards to hover above the ground. 

“here goes nothin’..” you roll your shoulders back with a shaky nervous breath. you focus on trying to move them first, easily making them open behind you. it’s almost like using a new limb. 

you attempt to jump into the air, but your feet still hit the ground instead of flying up beside him. 

“before you can run, you have to learn to walk, baby.” eddie touches down next to you, a sly smirk on his face. he wraps his arm firmly around your waist, holding onto you quite securely, “what are you doing?” you ask, but before you could protest he takes off into the sky.

you squeal loudly, hands desperately fisting at his shirt out of fear that you’re going to fall. your legs lift to wrap around his hips, gripping onto his body for dear life. he throws his head back to cackle like a mad man, “open ‘em! let them free!” 

you do as you’re told, extending your wings so the current of air expands them even more. the feeling is cold, yet so freeing. eddie slightly pushes you off of his side, making you shoot a nasty glare at him. 

“trust me. i will never let you fall.” he stares down at you with his infamous grin. the sight is amazing- his dark unruly hair whipping everywhere, his eyes that seem to glow in the dark, his ghostly skin that still shines under the moonlight. 

as you’re busy admiring at his beauty, he’s slowly inching you farther away from him. his fingers still threaded with yours, but your arms are outstretched between your bodies. wings keeping you afloat as you glide through the air.

“oh my god!” you screech when you realize you’re actually flying- well sort of. a toothy grin pulls up on your face as you look around, feeling liberated by the wind flowing against you. 

eddie snickers proudly at you, squeezing your hand before yanking away from your grasp. your eyes blow wide from the loss of contact, but surprisingly you don’t spiral down out of the sky. 

he soars back and forth, swooping underneath your body to swap places with you. he winks cheekily as he flaunts his tricks, blowing you a kiss. 

“show off.” you laugh loudly at him, flipping him the bird. eddie grabs at his chest as if he was stabbed, turning onto his back in the sky with his tongue sticking out and eyes closed.

before you could react to his theatrics, something woven into the wind catches your attention. your eyes dart around the terrain of the alternate dimension, actively searching for whatever it is. all you know is that it smells amazing. your mouth begins to salivate, the only thing you can think about is getting to sink your teeth into it.

it seems as if eddie has noticed the smell too, but his eyes are full of worry instead of hunger like yours, “don’t do it.” he warns, flying forward to grab your hand before you could do anything you’d regret. 

pure instinct takes over as you nose dive away from him, searching out the smell with your nose and ears. 

“awh fuck.” eddie huffs, rolling his eyes as he follows you downward out of the clouds. he calls out your name repeatedly as he chases you, but you tune him out. 

you notice flashlight beams swinging in the withered forest, your wings flapping loudly to hover yourself above the trees, eyes scanning the area. 

a group of people are walking through the foliage, cracking fallen sticks under their heavy footsteps. the sound amplifies as you listen into their conversation:

“they could literally be anywhere! i can’t believe i followed you in here, henderson.” mike groans in annoyance, “we need to find them. she’s in danger.” eleven adds. 

you drop through the woodland, the wind whooshing past your ears as you dodge astray limbs of trees. you land directly in front of them, fist and knee hitting the ground to break the harsh fall. their conversation goes silent as they examine your every move, mouths hanging open in shock. 

your wings frame your body as your eyes flicker up to them, standing tall on your feet. they almost gasp from your appearance, the color of your irises horrifying them to their core. 

“y/n…?” dustin calls out, taking a step forward with his hand raised cautiously. 

“dustin!” mike hisses at him to warn him as he grows closer. you gulp down your ravenous hunger, stomach growling angrily at you to launch yourself at them. 

your hands tremble by your sides, using every amount of self-restraint left in your body to hold yourself back. you can’t hurt them, you just can’t.

“hey, kids.” you flash your pointy grin, making their eyes grow even bigger, if that was possible. 

“you… turned?” eleven asks, eyebrows furrowed as she looks over you inquisitively. 

the sound of air kicking up behind you causes the kids to flinch, loud purposeful footsteps crunching on the leaves grow closer as they walk up from behind you.

eddie peeks his head out from the side of your wings, showing off his fangs with a big grin and an excited wave, “henderson!“ he exclaims, arms opening for the boy to run to him. 

dustin wavers on the possibility of this being a trap to suck his blood, but seeing his best friend alive in front of him makes him sprint right at him.

“holy shit, eddie!” dustin wraps his arms around his torso, hugging him with all his might. 

“missed me?” he chuckles, patting the top of his curly head awkwardly as he hugs him back. you can’t help but smile at them two, looking back over at mike and eleven. 

the two love birds are staring you both down, especially eleven. she doesn’t buy your fake smile and laughs, and can feel how much pain you’re in by holding yourself back. 

you keep eye contact with her, glaring at the girl as your whole body begins to tremble. a little voice is urging you to lunge forward and grab her, to sink your teeth into her carotid artery and feed on her blood. 

eddie calls your name out worriedly, slipping away from henderson to carefully glide himself over to you. 

the overwhelming smell of blood fills your senses as more people find there way to the clearing. hopper, steve and joyce are running up, flashlights flickering as they jog. 

there’s too many. 

you stare at eddie with glossy eyes, holding your breath. he goes still when he sees how much you’re struggling to hold back, almost wanting to cry from the look on your face. he knows exactly how you’re feeling, and when he felt it last, he couldn’t hold back; turning you into a monster- just like him.  

and that was only one person that tempted him. he doesn’t know how you’re controlling your thirst during this moment. 

eddie steps forward when you slightly teeter, gripping your hips as he steps in front of you. his hands cup both of your cheeks to have you focus only on him, “hey, hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, yeah? you’re okay, baby.” he whispers to you, slightly smiling for your sake. 

“i can’t- i can’t do this.” you whine softly, nuzzling against his palm with your face screwed up in distress. your arms wrap around his waist, taking a few reluctant steps to press yourself into him. you stuff your face into his neck, breathing in his scent to calm yourself down and mask the other smells. 

eddie’s arms immediately encase your body, letting out a relieved sigh. his eyes dart to the people around him, “let her go.” hopper demands. 

“jesus christ...” eddie groans obnoxiously, craning his head back to the sky before turning around to stare annoyingly at him.

“first of all, you kids need to go home, and she can’t be down here any longer. she’s going to die!” the ex-police officer shouts impatiently, hand resting on the gun in his holster. 

“well, she’s already dead!” dustin yells back at him with his snippy attitude. 

hoppers goes silent, looking between everyone. “she’s… dead?” joyce questions, one of her eyebrows raising as she stares at you. 

you lift your eyes up from the crook of eddie’s neck to look over his shoulder, your red eyes on full display to everyone. 

joyce instantly gasps and hides her face in jim’s side, “my god…” he mumbles in disbelief, his hand falling from his gun as he gawks at you. 

“he turned you?” steve points out the obvious, making some of the kids go, “duh!”

“look, i don’t mean to scare you when i say this, but she’s really hungry and if you guys don’t leave now, you’re all going to… well- get eaten.” eddie bluntly tells the truth to them. it keeps them silent for a moment, their eyes darting throughout their group of people.

“what if we bring her food from our world? drop it through the gate so she can eat without hurting anything that’s human.” dustin ponders on the thought. 

“like what?“ you blurt out with desperation evident in your voice. 

“like an animal? a deer, a bear..?” 

“oh, a bear? where are we going to get a bear?” will mocks his idea with a small chuckle, making dustin stutter over his words as he tries to explain his reasoning. 

you stifle a laugh in eddie’s neck from their bickering, making him laugh along with you. “bleh! kids, right?” he playfully mumbles into your ear, hands squeezing your hips. the adults join the argument, attempting to diffuse the tension, but it’s just making it worse.

“let’s get out of here.” he mumbles against your skin, bending his knees to launch himself upwards into the sky. the force of his wings picks up the dirt on the ground, twirling up leaves and twigs and leaving a cloud of dust in his place. 

“wait! where the hell are they going?” hopper yells, silencing the numerous conversations. everyone’s head looks up into the sky but your bodies have already disappeared into the clouds. 

“let’s go get them some food so they don’t make a u-turn and turn one of us into those things.” hopper grumbles, motioning with his hand for everyone to follow him back to the gate.

eddie casually sails through the sky with you, his hand holding onto yours tightly as you glide parallel to him. a wide smile on both of your faces, just basking in the peacefulness of the wind flowing around you. as much as you despised his choice to turn you, now you realize how hard it was for him to hold back with you right under his nose. 

some part of you is happy to be like this, especially with him. you don’t exactly know all the details of being an inter-dimensional vampire, whether you’re immortal like fantasy books have fabricated, or maybe you’re subjected to death after a couple hundred years… but who cares when you’ve got him back. 

eddie squeezes your hand gently, making your eyes open to see that he’s aiding you in descending slowly back to your darkened home. he touches down with you directly in front of your doorstep, hand instinctively resting on your lower back to guide you inside. 

once you make it upstairs, you choose to use your family’s guest bedroom instead of your own, since it’s most likely still a little bloody. eddie lays your trembling body down, slotting himself between your open legs. he leans back on his heels to admire your body, red eyes hooded and a dopey smile on his face. 

“gooooorgeous, baby!” eds cheers, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he leans down and catches your lips with his. you laugh into the kiss, arms lazily draping around his neck to pull him closer. his chest presses against yours, chain hanging from his neck above you. he’s obviously trying to get your mind off of eating all your friends, and it’s definitely working. 

your index and middle finger wrap around the looped metal when he goes to pull away, tugging him right back to you. 

“oooh, feisty.” he purrs, leaning forward to tug your bottom lip between his teeth. he savors the sight of it bouncing back into place, mouth salivating at the sight of you.

“can i call you sweetheart now?” he almost moans into your mouth when your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him flush against your center. 

“yes, eds… of course you can.” your hand grips the root of his hair, tugging on it softly since you know he likes it. the movement earns you a delicious moan that tumbles past his swollen lips. 

“you better be ready for the best night of your life, sweetheart.” a sly smirk pulls up on his lips as his hands find the seams of your top, tugging on it so it rips into two.

after countless rounds of endless pleasure, a few new dents in the walls (from taking advantage of being able to fly), and a broken bed, your bodies are completely and utterly worn out. your nude chest is pressed into eddie’s side, tiredly resting your head on his bare abdomen. his hand absentmindedly twirls a few pieces of your hair as he hums a tune to a familiar song. 

“that was…” he breathes out, letting out a disbelieving chuckle. his brain won’t comprehend what vulgar things he just did to you, and vice versa. 

another bonus of being immortal, is very high stamina and absolutely no sweat. 

“…so amazing.” you continue his sentence, gazing up at him through your eyelashes with a sluggish smile on your lips. 

never would you have ever imagined your boyfriend, the one you tragically mourned for, would come back to life as a vampire. somehow, even with his piercing red eyes and fangs that definitely bite, he’s still the most beautiful person you have ever encountered. 

you may be eternally damned to the upside down, but hey, at least eddie is stuck down here with you too. 

-

tags: @eddiemunsonslovelife @eddieussy @kylee-munson-barnes @llmae @vanessasweetie @lillyof-thevalley @taylorjqy @oscarisaacwhore @bellajg21 @explosiongamora @sadbitchfangirl @skyfullofsong123 @e-van-halen @shadowluna25 @whatinthefreshhellisthis @vllowe @gh0stboombox @shamidreamer @4l1fersss @xsuvs @barnaclebeeshive @simpinformunson @gooblerstan @0temp-erance0 @subjecta13-thefangirl @slut-for-sevika @sleepyb1txh @maskedmistress @weluvveddie @maddiethebanished @cjzelaitis @basiclassy @fuggiamodaqui @ap2x @bellsarmos @stiles-argent24 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @elainavmarie @arminsgfloll @demo-bats @prettysbliss @slut4edd1emunson @erensslut @bootlegmothman420 @uuinter-soldier @m00nlight101 @korekiyoss @sllimyelim02 @sanitysfallisamazing @tubble-wubble @blairsbooktime @eddiemunsonsgfreal

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie au #vampire eddie #eddie the bloody handed #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #kas the bloody handed #dungeons and dragons

[lawrites]

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

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

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

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

And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

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

#lawrites #plus size reader #x reader #reader #plus size fic #gotham #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #gotham rogues x reader #gotham edward nygma

[rainydayathogwarts]

Caught - Billy x Byers!reader, mom!Joyce x reader

Byers!Reader wc: ~1.4k Summary: reader sneaks out to meet her boyfriend Billy but bumps into someone unfortunate on her way out. More focused on the reader x mom!Joyce than reader x Billy. Just to make things clear also, it's a loving mother/daughter moment nothing gross or weird.

You almost grinned, tiptoeing to your window in the dark room, purse in hand, careful not to trip over any of the clothes haphazardly thrown on the floor. You winced as you opened the window, careful not to make any sound as you pushed yourself up on your arms, throwing your legs over the ledge. You landed on the opposite side on the wall with a crunch of the leaves under your feet, quickly making your way up the street.

You had gotten used to this routine. Usually, if either you or Jonathan had plans, you'd both go, telling your mom you'd stick together when you actually snuck off to see Billy and Nancy. The plan was foolproof. You both understood each other and would head back home together, ensuring your mom that you were safe. But every now and then when Jonathan didn't have plans, you had to find your own way to go see Billy.

With everything that had happened the past two years in the Byers household, the last thing your mother was going to do was let you go out - especially alone. Especially to meet the boyfriend she didn't know you had. You spotted Billy's car a couple of houses down, waiting to drive you away when you froze, eyes widening.

Staring right back at you was Jim Hopper, the chief of police in Hawkins, Indiana. Standing behind him were Nancy, Steve, Robin and of course, Eleven, who were making their way to your house, inevitably for another meeting.

Hopper took the cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the floor and stepping on it, his eyebrows raised and you physically cringed, tugging your low cut top up your chest. He definitely knew what you were up to, especially in that short blue skirt you wore, specifically to give Billy easy access. Your eyes wandered behind him, looking back at the other teenagers who all looked equally as confused as each other, with the exception of Nancy who grinned widely at you.

The silence was deafening.

The sound of the front door opening averted Hopper's gaze back which gave you the perfect opportunity to run back to the side of the house, where your mom wouldn't see you. "We saw you guys standing out here, what are you doing?" You heard your mom say, and prayed Mr. Hopper would keep your secret, just this once.

You didn't hear his answer, the door closing behind them. You had two options, you decided; either you could sneak back in and leave Billy hanging, or you could make a run for it. You sighed, looking through your window one last time before sprinting up to Billy's car down the street so that your mom wouldn't see you leaving.

You slammed his car door behind you, lowering yourself in the passenger seat as you caught your breath, whisper-yelling "Go, Billy, go!" He chuckled, having seen the entire exchange and stated calmly "Well that was a close one wasn't it?" When you were far enough from your house, you straightened up, leaning over the controls to press a glossy kiss to Billy's cheek. He put a hand on your thigh, heading in the direction of the forest, where he parked and you both headed straight into his back seat.

It was an entanglement of sweaty bodies and humidity, causing Billy to reach behind your head to open the window, the awkward position causing you to whine at him. He pounded into you, your skirt bunched up at your waist, your top laying on the floor as he mouthed at your tits, leaving hickeys everywhere he could. Your nails scratched at his back, causing Billy to hiss as he quickened his pace, getting you both closer to the edge. It was blissful, both of you giggling and exchanging wet kisses when you were done, catching each other up on your day, oblivious to what was awaiting you at home.

It was only when you were standing in front of the house with the curtains open, making direct eye-contact with an angry looking Joyce Byers that it suddenly hit you that if the others were here for a meeting, they probably would have needed you too.

You picture it in your head, your mom opening the door to your room, her heart dropping when she sees you're not in bed. Hopper wincing when she yells your name, reassuring her that you're fine, you're not alone. You just headed out. You can imagine her livid during the meeting, worried yet furious because all this time she wanted you to be safe, you'd been betraying her trust to meet a silly boy. Jonathan feeling guilty, but he doesn't want to throw himself under the bus just so that she can be angry at the both of you. It's not his fault that you got caught and he didn't.

You see heads turning to look at you through the window, wanting to see what's busying Joyce's gaze and you put your head down, walking towards the front door. You push your key into the keyhole, twisting it once, twice, and you hear the door unlock each time. Your other hand comes up to rest on the doorknob, and you hit your head on the door, taking a deep breath. You pull your key out with a groan, pushing the door open, avoiding your mom's gaze to the best of your ability.

"Y/N Byers. Look at me right now." The room is absolutely silent at the tone of your mother's voice and you look up with a sigh, seeing Jonathan's eyes widen. He starts shaking his head at you from behind where your mother is now standing, walking towards you. You swallow once, knowing that there's something wrong - more wrong than just sneaking out, but you can't wrap your finger about it, and Jonathan certainly wasn't helping you guess.

It's only when Joyce's hand comes up, brushing a strand of hair behind your shoulder that you realise, jerking away from your mother as you rush to your bathroom to desperately cover your hickeys, knowing fully well that she's already gotten a good look at them. There's three aggressive knocks at the door "Y/N I've already seen, come out now."

Embarrassment tugs at your chest and tears start to prick your eyes, but you forcefully wipe them away. You put your makeup brush down, looking up at your half covered hickeys. You still had three on the opposite side of your neck that were on full display and one was half covered by your top, leaving the rest to the imagination. When you open the door, Joyce is sitting on your bed, and she pats the spot next to her. You trodded over to her, keeping enough space between you as you let her talk, keeping your head down.

"Now under regular circumstances, I'd be happy for you and ask who this young man is, but I'm really disappointed Y/N. I thought we had a deal." You sigh, picking at your nails, knowing that if you said something, it would come out louder and angrier than you'd meant it to be. "Is this the same boy who snuck in last month?" You furrow your eyebrows, finally looking at her. Despite everything, you laugh whole-heartedly. "That was probably Nancy, mom. She basically lives here."

You watch as her jaw drops. "Nancy as in Nancy in my living room Nancy?" You nod "Her and Jonathan are-?" She doesn't finish her sentence, sitting there silently instead. "Do I need to have a talk with you and your brother about using protection with boyfriends and girlfriends?" She asks genuinely, frowning slightly. "No mom! God no!" You yell, shaking your head. "So... You're using protection with this guy?" "Billy." You confirm, nodding at her. "-Because at least Jonathan could decide to not be involved, but you would have to carry it." Your face flushes red and your hand comes up to scratch the side of your head, hiding your face from her.

"If I show you a photo of Billy, will you please stop asking me humiliating questions?" You ask, already getting off the bed to retrieve a box of polaroids. You open the box and gasp, desperately trying to cover the photo of you and Billy making out on the top of the pile, accidentally pushing it away from you and sending all the polaroids flying. Joyce laughs, shaking her head as she mutters something about you embarrassing yourself.

You lean down, pulling some wholesome photos from the floor and handing them over to your mom, who observes them closely. She hums, going through them, and finally says "But even if you didn't use protection...You two would have beautiful babies."

#stranger things #billy hargove x reader #stranger things fics #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargove imagine #billy x reader #billy hargrove #joyce byers #byers #robin buckley #steve harrington #jim hopper #fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic

[littlemissvincentvega]

MORNING WOOD / a perv!hopper one shot 💕

a/n: yes i know i actually wrote something for the first time in a century i had muse and i was horny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway hi everyone hope you enjoy 🥺

18+ explicit content / perv! jim hopper x his hand (fem! reader)

cw: masturbation, mention of facefucking and p in v sex. implied age gap. just a lot of dirty thoughts from our lovely chief of police

Something of an annoyed groan, thick with sleep, came from Jim Hopper's throat that morning. He had (like normal) been drinking the night before, enjoying the evening to himself-- settled in his armchair with a pack of cigarettes and a few beers to keep him company, a family-size pack of chips in case he got hungry. He rolled over in bed, the muscles in his back tensing as he reached over to take his alarm clock in his hand to check the time-- fine, it wasn't too late for him to have an enjoyable, slow start to the day. The last thing Hopper enjoyed doing was rushing around before work. He wasn't exactly a morning person in the first place.

Jim pushed the clock back onto the bedside table and rolled onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. He was pondering what to do about his morning wood, actually, thinking back to the dream he was having before his body decided it was time to wake up. He never was that talented at recalling dreams, but he definitely remembered the images that had blessed his sleep that night.

Hopper was aquainted with you purely because you both lived in the same trailer park. You knew he was the Chief of Police and you always made an effort to say hello, ask him how his day was going. And, whether you knew it or not, you were inadvertently making him more and more curious. He wondered why you bothered to speak to him at all-- he wasn't the most approachable guy. Hopper had a good heart and the majority of the people in Hawkins knew that, but he had a stoic persona that a lot of people were intimidated by. Not you, though. But why?

Maybe it was the tight shirts you wore without bothering to put on a bra underneath (surely you knew he could see your nipples?), or maybe it was that you liked to wear shorts or skirts that showed a little too much of your asscheeks (it was like you wanted him to look). But Jim Hopper wanted to see what was underneath. Not just beneath your attire, but what was behind that sickly-sweet innocent persona you were putting out to the world. Perhaps it wasn't an act at all and he was just being perverted, but Jim liked to imagine you were, deep down, pure filth.

Jim's hand closed around his member, eyes falling closed as a relieved breath escaped his lips. He began to pump himself to the thought of you. In his mind, you were at his mercy. You'd been batting those damn eyelashes at him far too long and far too many times for him to just write you off as a 'nice kid'. No, he wanted to see you on your knees, lips parted and ready to gag on his size. Hopper wondered if you'd liked to be facefucked by him, imagined how your ample tits would bounce. He'd smudge your lipstick and guide those pretty little lips expertly, make you gag just enough so tears would sting your eyes and smear your mascara. He grunted, squeezing his length. Yes, he'd like that.

But facefucking you wouldn't be enough, he thought. He'd felt bad so many times for allowing his gaze to roam your body whether you knew he was looking or not-- how couldn't he, though, when you were wearing shit like that? No, he would have to get you into submission. It wouldn't take much, he imagined, if you were as slutty as he thought you were. You had to be. No, facefucking was your warm up.

Hopper's grip on himself tightened and he picked up the pace at which he jerked himself, little grunts here and there erupting from deep inside of him. He imagined the noises that would come from you when he pushed his tip inside of that little pussy of yours. Jim convinced himself that you would have the perfect pussy, that he would just need to be patient because, and he knew this, his cock was an impressive size. Yes, he had the length, but he was also thick. And he knew women needed a little love and patience to be able to take all of him-- which was exactly what he would do with you. Jim imagined how good it would feel once you accomodated his size, how you would clench around his cock and scream when he rocked his hips against yours. He wondered if you'd still call him Chief-- he especially liked that in the bedroom. It was one of the things he got off to the most.

The thought that pushed Hopper over the edge was imagining the way you'd tremble and shake beneath his large frame after he helped you reach your climax. He'd gently squeeze your nipple, using his thumb on his other hand to rub sweet little circles on your throbbing bud. Your clenching around his cock would put him into overdrive and he would have to ask permission to unload in your pretty little cunt. And you'd say yes, intoxicated by everything about him. He'd bury his face in the curve of your neck, slamming into you, stubble rough against your skin as he fucked his seed deep inside your hole. "Oh-- oh, fuck," Hopper grunted, feeling his stomach tense. Throbbing cock began to pulse and empty itself, semen gently spraying out and collecting in his pubic hair. It was an unholy amount, he thought, chest rising & falling as he attempted to bring himself back to reality. The poor man didn't know how he'd face you when he left for work that morning... but, hey, at least his morning wood was taken care of!

PART 2

#jim hopper #chief hopper x reader #chief jim hopper #david harbour x reader #chief hopper smut #jim hopper smut #stranger things smut

[cosmicck]

♠︎tom kaulitz(2007-2008) x male reader(nsfw)

♠︎genre: smut/song based

♠︎song line: "if she can't handle that then i'll let her suck my dick, and her man is coming back so you better make it quick."

♠︎warning(s): domtop tom kaulitz, gagging, slight cum swallowing, tom is a little rough(but thats only because wait nvm im spoiling), blow jobs, cheating, tom does not like gf, and the gf probably does not like tom, OH tom is amazing at aftercare(i might just..)

♠︎a/n: YEA U KNOW WHO U R U PIECE OF SHIT YOUR GFS ALWAYS SUCKIN ON MY DICK LIKE A SLIM JIM STICK

this wasn't right and you knew it, you had a girlfriend who was in your own band! you loved her dearly yet sometimes others could be tempting. sometimes, others could fill in the hole that had never been filled.

which was tom kaulitz himself, it was all supposed to be a one night thing like toms usual hits, but to call you 'different' is an understanding. "no one has to know..not even that woman of yours." he was so persuasive, made you believe it would really just be once.

the both of you thought wrong, "just once." bullshit. yet here, for at least the fifteenth time you were put on your knees in front of him, his fingers curled into your hair keeping you almost to the base of his pelvis, making it difficult for you to breathe.

you had told him that you were still sore from about a week ago, apparently he was fucking his anger out on you but fuck the aftercare was almost everything you could ask for.

"through your nose," he moaned out, you were trying but god you barely could. at times you'd try to move your head back so you could breathe a little more, and taste him a little better.

his hips thrusted foward a little, the back of your throat feeling all the more cramped as you tapped his thigh, signalling he needed to let you go for a moment. "aw..but i'm almost there." he teased smirking down at you, the bastard. "fine,"

he gave in letting you go, more so pulling your head back on his own his fingers still tangled with your hair. "go on, take your breathes." he wasn't done with you, when he said he was almost there he meant it.

unfortunately, your girlfriend texted you. the front of your phone had her message sent, saying she'd be on her way back soon. well shit, this just made tom all the more excited.

"look," he laughed, moving his hand from your hair to your chin to make you look at him open the message, showing it to you. "your little girlfriends coming back." you tried to grab for your phone back exclaiming,

"tom! we have to stop this is–" he tossed your phone somewhere else, making you cringe hearing a small crack. "ah ah, i'm not finished yet remember?" he usually liked finishing what he started.

"back down," he watched as you went back down on your knees, a satisfied look on his face. "think," he forcefully put you back down on his length, enjoying the muffled yelp you let out your hands moving to his thighs again, squeezing them.

"she couldn't satisfy you like this huh?" he was right, and you knew it. to him, your girlfriend was just some chic you fake liked eating out, he knew you liked this better.

it was written all over your face even the first time. tom was the one controlling your pace, but still making sure you watched your teeth. spit had wallowed up at the back of your throat, having it spill at the side of your lips coating his dick as well. "yeah..i know."

he bit his lip, slipping his lip ring in and out as he was getting back to the moment before, cumming down your throat. but be had wanted to see something, it would be fine. he pulled you back off again, his head leaning back as he let out a loud groan finishing his load all over your face.

he looked back, loving the way he saw you swallow the bit in your mouth as the rest had been splattered across your features. the way some stuck to your eyelash making you half close that eye.

how the thick white liquid coated your cheeks as well, it almost felt as good as the other times. "fuck.." he mumbled still staring at you till your phone rang. again, you tried to get up and get it but tough luck for you.

"she can wait."

that poor girl yo💀 im sooo mf tired but ion wanna sleep😪 if there are any typos nu uh no there are not @gaybitchfx @tokio-motel @secretivemessenger @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @esthxio @vyloy @bloodyfennec @kitsune-yuhhh

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x male reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x male reader

[xcaptain-winterx]

Jim Pace (Sierra four) Masterlist

One Shots / Drabbles

Cuddle To Go

#callan mulvey #the gray man sierra four #sierra four #the gray man #jim pace x reader #jim pace x you #jim pace x y/n #the gray man jim pace #callan mulvey characters #callan mulvey x reader #callan mulvey x you #callan mulvey x y/n #jim pace

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Secrets

Jim Street X Reader 

Street helps the writer through a panic attack. 

A/N: I hope you all like this drabble !!! 

Y/N’s POV

Swat was a amazing job and you were so greatful that you got to be apart of it. Being one of the elites and fiding a family was something that you were beyond greatful for.

But being apart of the elite meant that you had to be on top of everything and leaving no room to have anything wrong.

You knew about your anxiety diagnosis sense you were little it was something that you manged and took medications for. The only problem was that you kept it out of your medical history.

You were afraid they wouldn't think you were quailifed enough and that your dreams would be over before it would start. So you kept it hidden and any time you had a flare up you would say you would try and hide it.

It was nothing personal you just knew you had to keep it to yourself. It wasn't like it was going to affect them. You all were super close but they didn't have to know everything about you.

Usually you were fine you would take your medications and practice your excersies you had. Like breathing techniques and even journaling to help you.

Being on the job for a couple of years know you quickly learned how to take the moments for yourself. To slip away and take the self care you needed.

But it was hard though always wondering if someone was gonna find out. Or wondering you were going to have a panic attack on the scene holding a weapon or fighting with the suspect.

It always just felt like a big ticking bomb that was being held over your head.

Was you making the best descion for you? And was it the best one for your teamates and society. Was this anxiety a big deal or not at all ?

Everytime you thought about it you had a panic attack just thinking about it.

Today was a different day. Today was a hard one it was just call after call and you were high paced all day long.

You could feel your anxiety setting in strong and the panic attacks felt like they were gonna happen. 

You couldn't do any of the normal thing you usually did during the day to help.

Your hands were shaking and your leg was bouncing. Thankfully everyone was sitting around and doing their own thing. 

You were sitting in the lounge room watching tv with Street and Tan. they were making you watch some show that you weren’t paying attention to. 

You were so wrapped in your thoughts. You were thinking about everything and anything at all once. 

It just felt like your mind was spinning and you were trying to claw your way out of a hole but couldn’t get out. Street looked over at you and he gave you a concerned look on his face. 

But you didn’t even notice. You began to feel you breathing getting labored and you were getting lightheaded. So you got up and ran out of the room. You didn’t know where you were going but you just knew you had to get out of there 

You just kept walking and ended walking outside. The warm sunlight was hitting you all over and it did feel nice. 

You walked over to the nearest bench and your legs were shaking and you felt like it was taking forever to get there. Each step it just felt like you were getting further and further away.

Suddenly you felt these hands on the back of you trying to give you some support. 

You were worried when you realized when someone was behind you. Worrying if it was all going to come out.

But then when you felt the familar warm touch you always craved you knew who it was instanly.

“Hey it’s okay I got you” Street said

You sat on the bench and then he got in front of you an kneeled down. You bent over your hands were cradling your face. 

Jim took your hands and removed them from your face. You looked a total mess your face was red and your face was all wet from crying. 

He was making you look at him. He had a look of concern written all over his face. Then he took his free hand he had and started rubbing your back which made you feel better and helped you calm down. 

“Hey talk to me, okay and breathe just breathe it’s gonna be okay” Street said in a soft voice. 

“It’s nothing okay I’m fine” You said breaking eye contact with him. 

“It’s not nothing what happened I mean i know it’s been a long day just had a moment” You said not looking at him. 

“Is it anxiety or something” Jim asked. 

You didn’t really say anything to him just started down at the bottom of your feet. 

“Hey don’t do that don’t shut me out i’m just worried about you” Jim said. 

You lifted yourself up and sat up straight. Taking your hands and wiping your face. 

You started taking deep breaths trying to get yourself back in order. You were struggling on what to answer because you were worried Street would go and tell Hondo or someone because he was worried about you.

You knew he only had pure intentions but you still didn’t want the whole team to know. But the way he was looking at you wanted to just spill your heart out to him. 

Looking at him in the eyes you decided to take the gamble and tell him. 

“ I have pretty bad anxiety and panic attacks i take medications for” You said. 

Jim got up and you started worrying again thinking where the hell was he off to. He sat down next to you. He then took you and pushed you close to him. So you were leaning up against his body. 

“I’m not gonna tell anyone. If that’s what your worried about” JIm said. 

You felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your chest once he said that. 

“Thank you really I mean it’s nothing bad It’s just some stuff I want to be personal” You said. 

“No i get that were all together all the time it’s hard to keep some kind of boundary” Jim said. 

“So what about you i need a big secret so incase you tell mine i’ll tell yours” You said. 

“Now why would I tell you something major then” Jim said laughing. 

“Because i know most of your shit so you got something and i need leverage you won’t tell then you got nothing to worry about” You said laughing. 

“Fine okay here goes I have a crush on someone from work” Street said. 

You got up and looked at him with a surprised face. Not knowing this so this was huge news. 

“Well who is it do I know her” You asked. 

Street looked at you and smiled. He had this big goofy look on his face. 

“Yeah you know her and nope that’s all the information you get’ Street said smiling.

“Wait come on this isn’t fair you gotta tell me something I’ll die if I don’t know” You said pleading with him. 

Suddenly the bells went off and that meant you all had to roll. 

“This isn’t over Street” You said getting up

You both started jogging over to Black Betty. 

“Now we both have secrets” Street said winking at you and getting in the back of the car.

Damn you never regretted something more in your life then you did right now

#swat imagine #swat #jim street #street x reader #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #jim street one shot #swat x reader #swat one shot

[strangerxperv]

Bratty (In)Dependence

NSFW/ Minors let's make Tumblr great again by sending you to the corner, no porn for you.

Daddy Dom Jim Hopper x Sub Little (Lemon/Lemonade) Reader

Hopper is a patient daddy that lets you get away with more than most. He thinks it's cute when you talk back to him or act bratty. It's the reason he calls you Lemon because most can't handle your tartness.

He loves when you act disrespectfully to other people but he has no patience when you behave badly (with him). He also loves reminding you who is in charge by fucking your bratty mouth. The lesson doesn't stick because you like being face fucked too.

"Fucking your pretty throat isn't a punishment for you so I've thought of something better." Jim grins wolfishly down at your gasping face as your glazed eyes peer up, "No cumming for a month."

"No! No, Daddy, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I'll be good Daddy! I promise!!" Your begging only makes him gleefully pat your swollen lips with his twitching tip.

"Nope, I've warned you all day to stop throwing your stupid little baby fit when you were slam shit around and havin' an attitude." His cock slams into the back of your throat purposely causing you to gag around him. His pace is rushed and rough as Jim fucks your mouth selfishly seeking oblivion.

He doesn't even give you the satisfaction of drinking his cum. His cum splashes onto your lips before he aims at your pretty tits. Drenching the shirt you're wearing in his thick cream.

"Go clean... clean up your coloring stuff, now." His breath is fast as he sits in the recliner.

"Can I get changed first?" Your tone is already defiant and annoyed.

"Not with that attitude, Lemon, you'll just have to wear it as a reminder until I'm happy again."

#jim hopper smut #jim hopper fanfic #chief jim hopper #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader smut #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #daddy jim hopper #dom jim hopper #little reader #sub reader #daddy!jim hopper #daddy jim hopper x little reader #dom jim hopper x little reader #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper #stranger things x reader #stanger things #hopper stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

[hauntedwitch04]

Baby making with Daddy

Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: about 1.0k words

Warnings: smut, sexy time in the bathroom, and baby fever of Steve Fucking Harrington

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. It's note my best work, but I hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

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If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

"Now be quiet baby, or everyone will hear you moaning for Daddy as he puts a baby in your lap. "

Whispers Steve, as he pulls down your panties, in the Hoppers' bathroom where you have been hiding.

You ended up in this situation because of your husband's baby fever, which now seems to have taken over his entire brain.

When you arrived at Jim and Joyce's house today, you knew right away that there was going to be a problem, because you saw that Jonathan and Nancy had brought with them, for the first time, the daughter who had been born to them a few months ago. Immediately you had gone to see the newcomer, and you couldn't help but immediately fall in love with those soft little cheeks of hers and her toothless smile, but you hadn't missed your husband's glances.

In part, you were shocked that it lasted so long, but then at some point in the afternoon, when everyone had decided to hang out in the garden for a while, he had said that he wasn't feeling too well, and he asked you to go with him, and right away you understood his intentions.

You were not even in time to close the bathroom door, that your hips were already pressed against the sink and his lips were already leaving a long streak of saliva that went from your right earlobe to the hollow of your breast.

"God, love seeing you with that little girl is driving me crazy. Seeing you with her in your arms, or playing with her, I can't help but think if she was ours. I swear you'll be pregnant by tonight, if it's the last thing I do." He whispers into your neck as he lifts the skirt of your dress and with expert fingers grazes your center, already in involuntary spasms of pleasure and wetness from his words and gestures.

"Feel how wet you are baby. Who made you so wet?" He asks rhetorically, as he massages one of your breasts from above your dress.

"You daddy, you did it." You gasp as you try not to lose your wits, though it may be too late now.

"That's right baby, and now Daddy is going to fuck you so hard that you even forget your own name, and then put a beautiful baby boy or girl inside you. Do you like that idea?" He asks as he unzips his pants, and slowly massages his member, to prepare himself.

"Yes Daddy, please make me a mommy and you a daddy, I can't wait to have a baby of our own." Moan as he spins you around and pulls down your panties, now rendered useless because of how wet they are.

"Now be quiet baby, or everyone will hear you moaning for Daddy as he puts a baby in your lap. " He says in a sensual voice as he bends you over the bathroom sink. You feel his cock graze your entrance, then enter hard.

Immediately, however, all I feel is pure pleasure, as from how aroused you are, his member has slipped inside you smoothly. Steve immediately begins to move at a brisk pace as he grabs your hair, previously left neatly gathered, in a rudimentary tail to pull you up next to him, causing me to arch my back. He, as I pull you closer, lowers himself, making sure to meet you halfway, to kiss you with all the passion he has.

His thrusts continue to be strong, and you struggle more and more to hold back your moans. You feel your orgasm coming faster and faster and more and more violently, and you can't help but tell your husband, who immediately chuckles with amusement.

"Cum baby, let go, don't worry." He says, speeding up his thrusts, knowing that her orgasm was also now in the home stretch. "But know that this is not over, when we get home, I will fuck you so hard that besides being pregnant, you will have left the mark of your body her our mattress." He continued.

His words are too much, and immediately you are hit by an endless wave of pleasure. You feel every nerve in your body relax under that rush, as your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, wanting to squeeze every single drop of semen inside him into you. Your orgasm affects his, causing him to release everything inside you. You feel him lean against your back, before leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades.

"What's the word?" He asks rhetorically as he gives one last thrust, matching his cock for the umpteenth time against your cervix, making you moan.

"Thank you, Daddy." You whisper, while your voice is still slurred with pleasure. He slides his cock out of you, then continues talking

"That's my baby girl, now put your panties back on and let's go outside, I wouldn't want them to start suspecting something." He tells you, as he closes his pants, and looks one last time at your pussy, where some of his seed is starting to drip out, to pick it up with a finger and put it back in.

"Like they didn't hear you." You comment looking for your panties, to find them thrown across the bathroom, trying not to be distracted by his gesture.

"Watch your mouth baby, because it's not a given that you cum tonight if you don't play nice with Daddy." He says, slapping you on the ass, after you just put on your underwear, before leaving the bathroom.

Eventually a few weeks later it turned out that Steve had kept his promise and actually succeeded that night, even though you believe it had been the time in the Hoppers' bathroom.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #kinktober 2023

[mysaintkitten]

Primal | Jim x fem!reader

prompt: after narrowly escaping death, jim’s adrenaline is through the roof, and his instincts take over (NSFW, no minors)

WARNINGS: brief mentions of 28 days later plot, jim’s a little pushy (but it’s overall consensual), unprotected sex (p in v), praise, creampie

word count: 1.1k

this is an awkward length but all i can think about is buzzcut cillian 💔

as you and jim were out attempting to find some food, you heard the sound of heavy, quick footsteps approaching. out of habit, you both raise your bats. at this point in the epidemic you knew to carry blunt objects and weapons on you at all times, so you were prepared incase this happened. while you both had turned to see an infected charging in your direction, another was charging in the opposite direction behind jim’s back. as you swung your bat at the head of the one coming towards you, you heard jim hit the ground, groaning loudly.

your head whips behind you and you see jim on his back, an infected on top of him, wailing and grunting in his face.

“help! fuck! shoot it, y/n!” he exclaims, placing his bat between the infected’s chin and neck, pushing as hard as he could against it’s inhuman force. with shaky hands, you pull the revolver out of your waistband and pull the trigger, hoping to god that the bullet gets where it needs to go. jim scrunches his faces and turns his neck to the side, trying to avoid getting any of the infected blood in his eyes or mouth. the body goes limp above him, jim rolls the body off and quickly rises to his feet, using his dirty crewneck sleeve to wipe off the blood from his face.

“we have to go. now.” jim fretted, grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the door at a quick pace. as you’re about leave, you hear the all too familiar grunts and gasps of another infected.

“run! quick!” he exclaims, essentially pushing you out the door as you two sprint back to your home base.

your lungs are burning, your body is tired, but you have to keep running.

finally, you’re home, you drop the bats and the weapons onto the floor.

“jesus christ!” you huff, back against the wall as jim slams the door behind him, quickly locking it.

both of you breathing heavily at the mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline cording through your veins. jim slips off the crewneck, revealing the tee he had on underneath.

“that was so close ..” he mumbles breathlessly, you nod in agreement, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off from your forehead, “i feel so alive, y/n ..” he adds, bringing his body to closer to yours.

you exhale softly, “yeah, me too, jim.” you close your eyes and attempt to regulate your breathing, until you feel fingers creeping around your waist and lips on your neck, your eyes shoot back open.

“jim? what are you doing?” you croaked, feeling a bit thrown off by his gesture, he moans softly into your neck, you feel his growing bulge graze your thigh,

“so close to losing it all … would’ve never been able to hold you.. or touch you again ..” he whines into your neck, nipping gently at the skin

you could feel his heart thumping through his chest,

“jim .. your heart .. take a breath, hun ..” you coo, placing your hand behind his head, running your fingers through the buzzed hair.

“i’m alive, baby. can’t you feel it?” he chuckles softly, pulling his head out from your neck to kiss you on the lips. it’s sloppy and eager, his grip on your waist tightening as he continues to rut against you.

before long, he’s detaching his lips and turning your body around, pressing your chest against the wall, now placing his chest directly behind yours preventing you from moving.

“jim?” you blurt out, feeling the air being slightly squeezed out from your lungs, “feel like a goddamn animal .. need to be inside you ..” he groans, hastily sliding your pants and underwear down from behind, exposing your bare ass and pussy.

he uses his free hand to unzip his pants, tugging his waistline and boxers down to free his flushed cock.

you feel him abruptly slide himself inside of you, giving you no time to adjust, “oh!” you gasp, your mind going blank at the sudden fullness,

he moans into the nape of your neck, gripping your hips roughly, “such a perfect pussy .. heaven on earth ..”

he snaps his hips inside of you feverishly, pounding into you at a quick and needy pace, it feels almost primal. like he’s in fucking heat.

“j-im!” you whimper, “slow dow-n a bit!”, you swing your hand behind you and dig your nails into his thigh,

“cunts grippin’ me too good .. can’t help it, baby ..” he growls, snaking his hand around to your front to rub quick circles on your clit. his relentless pace makes you feel like some sort of fuck-toy beneath him.

it’s all so filthy. his grunts, his pace, you whine loudly and your knees start to go weak beneath you. small huffs leaving your mouth as each thrusts connects to your ass. you feel yourself becoming embarrassingly close, maybe because he hasn’t fucked you this aggressively the entirety of your relationship. you had never seen him like this.

he feels you become slicker around his cock, “that’s it, come undone for me, pretty girl ..” he chuckles. his hot, shaky breaths sending chills down your spine.

“god, fuck, baby!” he groans, “gonna fill that pussy up .. ‘s mine .. all mine ..” he rambles, his thrusts becoming weaker and sporadic,

his words and his aggressive nature push you over the edge and you come hard around his cock, your legs nearly giving out from underneath you as he continues to fuck into you.

jim sees you go limp and feels your orgasm drip out of you slightly, he laughs breathily, “that’s it .. good girl .. such a good girl …”

after a few more shaky pumps, he’s coming inside you. mumbling praises about how good you are and how good your pussy feels, even a small ‘love you’.

his thrusts slow down to a complete stop before he pulls his cock out of you, still hard and flushed. he takes a step back and spreads you apart gently, watching as some of his come began to drip out of your used cunt.

“jesus ..” is all he can manage to say before placing a firm smack on your ass, you yelp slightly at the sudden sting.

he turns your body around and rubs his hand on your behind gently, soothing the sting with his rough hands. he kisses your lips for a few moments before pulling away to tuck himself back into his pants. you follow his lead and shimmy your pants back up.

“gotta get back out there, we didn’t find any food ..” he says, sliding his jacket on. he seemed to move on rather quickly, but for the rest of the day all you can think about is him, and how his come is gradually leaking out of you and into your panties.

—-

jim PLEASE let me hit it

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim 28 days later #i don’t think there’s much of a demand for jim LOL #but he’s so sexy #i hope y’all enjoy #:)

[waitimcomingtoo]

And Everything Just Stops

Pairing: Peter Parker x best friend!Reader

Synopsis: after getting stood up on a date, you go to Peters apartment for comfort, leading to more than one secret coming out

Masterlist

*contains greys anatomy season 6 spoilers*

“Will anyone else be joining you tonight?”

“Yeah. He’ll be here any minute. He’s just a little late.” You told the waitress as your eyes flicked to the empty seat across from you.

“Okay. I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.” The waitress gave you a smile before walking away. She returned five minutes later to refill your water.

“Thanks.” You smiled at her before checking your watch. It was 7:13 now. The plan was to meet at 7. You had gotten there five minutes early and your date had yet to arrive.

“No problem. Did you want to order anything while you wait?” She asked you.

“No. That’s okay. He’ll be here soon.”

“Okay. I’ll check in again soon.” She gave you another smile before walking away. Another ten minutes went by and you had memorized the menu at that point. Another ten went by after that and you were starting to get uncomfortable with the amount of people staring at you. Five minutes after that, the waitress came back over with a cupcake on a plate.

“Here. It’s on the house.” She said as she set the cupcake down in front of you. You tore your eyes away from the empty seat and gave her a weak smile.

“Thanks.” You said quietly and slid down in your seat, turning your face to hide the embarrassment you were feeling.

“I’m sorry, honey. But if you’re not gonna order anything, we really need the table.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” You nodded and gave her another weak smile. You thought the waitress would go away, but instead, she sat down across from you.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not eating alone tonight. I’m not letting you.” She said as she unraveled the napkin and sliced the cupcake in half. She gave you half of it and took the another half for herself before holding it up.

“Thanks.” You clinked your cupcake against hers before taking a bite.

“So what was his name?“ She asked before taking a bite of the cupcake.

“Who?”

“The asshole who stood you up.”

“Jason.” You told her as you picked off the bottom of your cupcake.

“Ew. A J name? You agreed to go out with a J name?” She asked and scrunched her nose in disgust.

“He was really nice, okay?” You laughed dat her reaction. “And he was interested in me. And it’s been a minute since someone was interested in me.”

“There is no excuse for accepting a date with a man with a J name.” She shook her head and finished her cupcake.

“They can’t all be bad, right? What about Jim Carey or….um…damn it. That’s the only good guy I can think of.”

“See?“ The waitress smirked as she checked the time on her phone.

“My break is over soon. Do you have somewhere you can go?” She asked you.

“Yeah. My best friends house. He’ll take care of me.” You smiled sadly and got out of your seat.

“Good. I hope you feel better. Whoever this Jason guy is, he’s an idiot. And a loser. Don’t an idiot loser make you feel bad about yourself.” The waitress told you as she put her hand on your shoulder.

“I won’t.” You smiled, sincerely this time.

“All right. Get home safe.” She winked at you before walking away.

“Wait.” You called after her, and she turned around.

“What’s your name?”

“Jane.” She told you with a coy smile.

“J name.” You smiled in surprise.

“We’re not all bad.” She winked again before walking away. You blinked a few times before coming back to reality and leaving the restaurant. You told your parents you’d be out late back when you assumed you’d be going on a date so you couldn’t go home and face them. You started walking in the direction of Peters apartment and thought about what had happened tonight. A boy pursued you, got you to agree to a date with him, and then stood you up. Your bottom lip began to tremble and hot tears of embarrassment slipped down your cheeks. You passed a couple holding hands and picked up your pace. You broke into a run and ran all the way to Peters apartment as tears ran down your face. You knocked on his front door and wiped your face as you waited for him to answer. Finally, May opened the door.

“Oh. Hi May.” You smiled through your tears and wiped your face on the back of your hand.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here so late?” She asked with a sympathetic smile.

“I was looking for Peter. Is he home?”

“No, I’m sorry. He’s not. He’s out on….a walk.” She lied to cover for her nephew.

“Okay. I’ll just call him later. Sorry to bother you.” You gave her another teary smile and turned to walk away.

“Wait a minute.” She said and gently caught your wrist. She pulled you back towards her and put her hands on your face to wipe your tears away.

“I’ve watched you grow up. I’ve wiped your snot and dried your tears hundreds of times. You’re my baby. And I take care of my babies. Come in and tell me what happened.”

You started to cry again as she took you inside and closed the door behind you. Once you were both inside, May opened her arms to you. You let out a whimper before stepping into her arms. She hugged you tightly and stroked your hair to calm you down. You clutched her shirt and cried into her shoulder until you felt like you could talk.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” May asked as she grabbed you a tissue.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get out of this stupid outfit.” You wiped your eyes before looking down at the dress you had put on for your date.

“Do you have any clothes here?” May asked you.

“Yeah. In Peters room.”

“Go get changed. I’ll get you some makeup remover.”

May squeezed your hand before sending you off to Peters room. You found that the only clothes you had in his room were a pair of Jean shorts and a fitted shirt, and you didn’t particularly feel like putting that on. You grabbed a pair of his boxers and slipped into those before throwing on one of his T shirts, the kind with the stupid science pun. May came into his room with a couple makeup wipes and helped you wipe off the makeup you had spent an hour on in an attempt to look perfect.

“Okay. All clean. Now tell me what happened.” She said once all your makeup was wiped away.

“I can’t. It’s so stupid.” Your voice cracked when you spoke.

“It’s not stupid if it brought you to tears.” May said as she tucked some of your hair behind your ear. You looked at her with a trembling lip before caving.

“I was supposed to go on a date with this guy tonight. I was so excited to go. I planned my outfit a week in advance and then changed three times and then went back to the outfit I had on in the first place. I did my hair and my makeup and tried on every pair of shoes I own. As if he would even notice the kind of shoes I had on. But even so, I made sure I smelled good and I painted my nails and I even wore a necklace that he complimented once.”

“And?”

“And he never showed up.” Your voice cracked as you started to cry again.

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” May said as she pulled you into her arms.

“It’s fine. I’m just mad that I shaved my legs for nothing.” You sniffled against her shoulder.

“It’s not fine. He had a commitment with you and he didn’t honor it. That’s not okay.”

“I know. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. So it’s not fine. But it’s okay.” You shrugged and gave her a sad smile. Just as May was going to respond, Peter came into his room.

“May, do you know how to get blood out-“ Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw you. Your eyes widened when you saw that he was dressed in the Spiderman suit. He had blood all over the crotch of the suit and what looked like the early stages of a black eye. Peter was looking at you with the same amount of confusion as you had. Leftover mascara had gathered around your eyes and was visible in faint traces down your cheeks.

“You’re crying?” Peter asked with sympathetic eyes.

“You’re Spiderman?” You practically screamed.

“You’re crying.” Peter rushed to you and put his hands on your face.

“Is your dick bleeding?” You asked as you wrapped your hand around his wrists.

“It’s not my blood. It’s some dudes. Why are you crying?” Peter asked as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“You’re wiping my tears with your gloved Spiderman hands.” You said, mostly to yourself when you felt the material of Peters gloves against your face.

“Yes. I am.” Peter smiled a little. “But why are you crying? What happened? Did you watch that episode of Greys Anatomy where that doctor gets hit by a bus and then joins the army in the elevator or something? What did I tell you about watching that? You cried so hard you threw up last time.”

“Do not bring up George O’Malley to me right now. Do not talk about the elevator scene to me right now. Because if I think about the elevator doors opening to show his shaved head and his army uniform I’m gonna-“ You cut yourself off when hot tears started pouring down your face. You looked up at the ceiling and fanned yourself to try and stop them.

“Woah, woah, woah. Don’t cry. I got you. I’m right here. I got you.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around you. You clung to him and buried your face in his shoulder as he held you as close as possible.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” May smiled knowingly and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Peter asked as he pulled away just enough to cup your face in his hands.

“No. Do you want to tell me how long you’ve been a super hero?”

“Since freshman year. Now tell me what happened.” Peter repeated, and you let out a shaky sigh.

“I had a date tonight.” You told him and watched his expression go from concerned to upset. He felt jealousy bubble up in his stomach but he knew he had to ignore it for your sake.

“You did? With who?” Peter tried to keep his voice steady to mask his disappointment.

“Jason Yang.”

“Ew.” Peter scrunched his nose. “A J name? Are you insane?”

“Apparently.” You laughed sadly.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well? Unless these are happy tears.”

“No. It didn’t go well. It didn’t go at all.”

“What do you mean?“

“He never showed up.” Your told him, your voice cracking on the last word.

“What?” Peters disappointment changed to anger in an instant. He was still upset you had agreed to a date with another boy, but even more so he was angrier that the boy didn’t have the decency to show up.

“He stood me up. He didn’t even say he wasn’t gonna come. He just left me waiting at the restaurant for an hour. And then I met this waitress and I think she was my fairy god mother or my lesbian awakening but either way she and the entire restaurant were looking at me like I was the most pathetic thing they had ever seen.”

“Hey, hey hey. It’s okay, honey. Come here.” Peter said and pulled d you back into his arms. He pulled away after a minute to look at you.

“Do you want me to kill that guy for you?” He asked sincerely.

“Peter.” You playfully whined and rested your head back on his shoulder.

“I will. I will do it. I will go to his house and woop his ass. I will woop it until there is nothing left to woop.” Peter said as he rubbed circles on your back.

“Really? Will you? With your spider powers?” You pulled away to smile sarcastically at him.

“Yes.” Peter returned the smile. “With the power of a thousand spiders. I will woop him so hard he can’t stand anyone up ever again because he won’t be able to stand. Because he will have been wooped into oblivion.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I love you too much to let you do something that would land you in prison.” You chuckled and wiped your face with the back of your hand. Peter felt his heart yearn a little for you and couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I could never leave you behind like that.” He said as he tucked your face behind your face ear. It wasn’t in your face, he just wanted to touch you. You stared at each other for a minute and his gaze dropped to your lips. He reminded himself of the situation and quickly cleared his throat.

“I’m still trying to figure out why in the chicken friend fuck that guy would stand you up. I mean, you? The most beautiful girl on the freaking planet? He’s lucky you said yes. He’s lucky you even looked his way. And I’ve seen him. I’ve seen this Jason Yang son of a biatch. He’s not exactly a panty dropper. He has visible ear wax in his ears.”

“Peter. Ew.” You groaned and playfully shoved him.

“He does. I don’t understand people who aren’t constantly cleaning their ears. The orgasmic feeling of putting a Cotten swab in your ear hole is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.” Peter stated, making you laugh. He smiled now that he had you laughing again hoped that meant you were feeling better.

“Don’t say ear hole. It’s called the earussy and you know that.” You said in a serious tone, making Peter laugh. When his laughter died down, he looked at you and let out a happy sigh.

“You know what I love about you?” Peter smiled. “In the rare moments you let someone see you cry, and I’m talking about when you are at your absolute lowest, your first instinct is to make people laugh.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when you couldn’t find the right words. You felt your face heat up from the compliment and smiled shyly at Peter.

“I love you too.” You said quietly as you stared into his eyes. Peters entire face turned red and he let out a nervous laugh. You both felt the awkward tension from how real the conversation got and looked away.

“So, uh, how’d you get that blood on your crotch there?” You asked to change the subject and pointed to his bloody suit. Peter looked down at the blood before shrugging.

“A stabbing.” He said like it was the most causal thing in the world.

“Were you stabbed?”

“No.” Peter shrugged.

“So you stabbed somebody?”

“Also no. This one dude stabbed this other guy and I was kinda in the middle in a sorta Oreo situation. Me being the creme, of course.”

“Mm. Right.” You nodded. “I’ve always thought of you as the creme.”

“Wow. That sentence is definitely gonna come back to haunt me in my Peter on Peter time but right now, I just need to make sure my beautiful best friend is okay.” Peter replied, making you smile once again.

“I’m okay.” You shrugged. “He wasn’t the one.”

“I know. I promise you, your soulmate isn’t a man who has the kind of car he drives written in his Instagram bio.”

“Does he really?” You laughed. “What kind of car?”

“Ford Fiesta.”

“Damn. It’s a shame I’m missing out on all of that.”

“I know. My heart goes out to you.” Peter replied sarcastically. You threw your head back as you laughed and forgot all about the bad date.

“So did you make that get up yourself?” You asked and gestured to Peters suit.

“I did not. You know Tony Stark?”

“Shut up.” Your eyes widened when you caught on to what he was suggesting.

“Yep. He made it for me.”

“Are you serious? You’re friends with a billionaire.”

“I mean, he finds me incredibly annoying and won’t return my calls, but I’d say we’re pretty close friends.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh again.

“Just when I thought I knew everything about you, you show up in this.” You shook your head in disbelief and stared at his outfit.

“I thought I knew everything about you too. And yet my aunt knew you had a date with some other boy before I did.” Peter replied. You suddenly remembered the date and looked down at the ground.

“I didn’t want to tell you.“ You said quietly.

“Why not?” Peter shrugged.

“Peter.” You said with a sad smile.

“What? Why couldn’t you tell me?” He asked again. You gave him a look that silently pleaded for him not to make you say it. That’s when Peter realized the secret feelings he had for you were not a secret.

“Oh.” Peter said quietly as he eyes fell to the floor. He walked over to his bed and sat down on it as he went over everything in his head. Every time he thought he was being subtle or laid awake at night wondering how he’d ever tell you how he felt replayed in his mind. You sat beside him and stayed in silence for what felt like a full minute.

“You know?” He asked without looking at you.

“Yeah, Pete.” You said softly. “I know.”

“Who told you?”

“You did.” You smiled a little. “With the way you carry my books and pull out my chair for me whenever I go to sit down. And the way you sprint down the hallway to just open doors for me. I haven’t opened a door for myself since knowing you.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Peter mumbled, making you crack a smile.

“You also do this thing where you look at me when someone says something funny. It’s like, you won’t laugh unless you confirm that I also found it funny. It’s kinda cute, actually.”

“I just want to make sure you’re having a good time.” Peter said as he finally looked at you.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you. You’re my best friend.” You said and put your hand on top of his. Peter looked at your hands and felt his tears come back.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He said quietly.

“Peter.” You said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I think that if you gave me a chance, I could make you really happy.” He told you, still not looking at you.

“You already make me happy. That’s why we’re best friends.”

“I know. But I have this theory that if you let me do all the things I wanted to do for you, the things I restrain myself from doing because I don’t want to cross any boundaries, I think I could make you even happier.”

“That’s your theory, huh?” You chuckled softly.

“Yeah. It’s a theory I’m working with.” He replied, smiled a little as well.

“And what are the things you restrain yourself from doing?” You asked him. Upon hearing the playful tone of your voice, Peter looked up at you.

“For starters, I have to fight the urge to tell you you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire universe like, 100% of the time.” Peter began. “And that means something coming from me, because I’ve legit been to space. And trust me, not even the stars are as pretty as you. They can’t compete. It’s almost unfair. You’re just so damn beautiful.”

“Even now?” You asked skeptically as you internally screamed at what he had just said.

“Of course now. The crying makes your lips bigger and your eyelashes look longer.” Peter told you. “You actually look really good right now. The lighting could use some work but other than that, you look amazing.”

You laughed at what he said and gave his hand a squeeze. You both looked at your hands as Peter intertwined his fingers with yours.

“So what, uh, what other urges are you fighting?” You asked him as you looked into his eyes.

“The urge to beat the shit out of the idiot who stood you up.” He replied, making you crack a smile.

“Anything else?”

Peter looked at you and felt his entire face flush up to the tips of his ears. His gaze dropped to your lips and he gulped loudly.

“Most of all, I’m fighting the urge to kiss you right now.” He said, eyes glued to your lips.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop fighting.” You said before crashing your lips to his. Peter immediately cupped your face and kissed you back, the way he’d been wanting to for years. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, smiling into the kiss when you felt the material of his suit beneath your fingertips. The kiss was only interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“I’m brought some more- oh. You’re kissing. I did not see that coming.” May said, mostly to herself.

“May!” Peter whined. “Get out.”

“Okay. I brought some snacks though. Since you didn’t eat dinner on your date because he never showed up.” May said, making you let out a little whimper.

“May! Don’t remind her.” Peter whined again and threw a pillow at the door.

“It’s okay. I found something better.” You told May, making Peter smile. She winked at you before shutting the door, leaving you and Peter alone again. Peter turned to you and used his gloved pinky to tilt your face towards his own.

“So.” He smiled. “Where were we?“

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[corazondebeskar-reads]

keep it caged

werewolf!Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 5 - rope burns | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 447

summary: They put you in a small cage within the beast's cage, as if it would be more than a minor inconvenience in his way.

This is technically another drabble for my upcoming series "of rage and ruin" following werewolf!Joel. It can be read as a standalone.

warnings: alpha/omega dynamics (one use of the word "omega"), captivity, abuse, genre-typical violence, canon-typical violence, restraints, description of injury

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He can’t reach you, not when you’re tucked back in the corner of your cage. But he can smell you, and he can smell the rich iron soaking into the ropes around your wrists. It’s not yet visible, but the skin squishing through the edges is red and rough. 

He whines, pushing his muzzle against the bars, long tongue flopping out like he can reach. 

The sharp battery acid edge of your fear spikes, and he growls. Stupid girl. Stupid fucking omega. He’s trying to help you, and you’re—you’re— 

You’re starting to cry again. 

He can’t make human words like this, can’t enunciate or even really remember them. He tries to reach you through the bars again, snarling when they burn against his knuckles. Even the distended bony fingers of his full form can’t reach you there, not even with the tip of his claw. 

You’re shaking now, body twitching and jittering beyond your control. Everything inside you is screaming white-hot and dissolving; vomit tickles the base of your throat, and you just can’t stop crying. It hurts; it’s ripping your throat and lungs to shreds. It’s a violent, tumultuous thing, and you can’t stop the wounded keening of your cries. 

He’s pacing in front of your cage now, the beast, on four mangled limbs too long to be canine and too warped to be human. His huffs startle you, long snout returning, again and again, tongue darting out for a taste. 

A little drop of blood slides down your hand from where the rope’s edge cuts into the bottom of your palm.

He freezes, nostrils flaring. You freeze, barely breathing.

 

He looks right at you and then tips his head back to howl, the sound like icy water through your veins. 

You can’t help yourself. You scream, broken as your voice is from all the tears. 

Between the cacophony, Jim stomps into the corridor and slams his hand on the wall. “Shut the fuck up, both of you!” 

“Help me,” you yell. 

I’m trying, the wolf howls. 

“Please, please help me,” you gasp, sobs reaching new heights alongside your panic. 

“If you don’t quiet the fuck down, I’ll open up your goddamn cage and let him eat you,” Jim snaps. “I said you were going to be more trouble than you’re worth, and I was fuckin’ right.”

The beast snarls, snapping his sharp teeth at the air. 

Jim regards him with a sneer. “And you! Giving her a heart attack counts as breakin’ her. We aren’t gettin’ you another one.”

The words don’t make sense, but you don’t really hear them, anyway. “Please, I want to go home, please, please,” you whisper. 

But no one’s listening.

*title from "Monster" by Skillet

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