#that isn’t even a full list of the shit he pulled

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst

A/N: Please enjoy this first part!

_______

This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.

Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat. 

Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.

You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.

“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.

A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.

“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”

“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”

“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”

“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”

“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”

You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.

You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.

Right?

You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.

“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water. 

“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”

You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.

“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”

“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.

“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”

“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep. 

“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”

You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.

“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.

“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space. 

“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”

“Whoa lady. Calm down-”

“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”

“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”

“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead. 

“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”

“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”

“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”

The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.

At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.

Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.

“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.

“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.

“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner. 

“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”

You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure. 

But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.

“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.

You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal. 

So what the fuck had happened?

You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.

“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse. 

“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.

“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that? 

“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor. 

“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”

“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.” 

“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”

You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.

“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”

You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing. 

“The man that brought you in-”

“The ranger guy.”

“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”

“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.

“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.

“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?” 

“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.” 

“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”

“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”

Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.

What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?

You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?” 

“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”

“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”

“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up. 

“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”

“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”

“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”

“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”

“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow. 

The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes. 

“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”

“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”

“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”

“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective. 

You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.

He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.

It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs. 

Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.

Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear. 

You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted. 

“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”

“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top. 

He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs. 

“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”

“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.

“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”

He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?

“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”

“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move. 

An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right. 

Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.

There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.

But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.

You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.

“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.

You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.

With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.

Three Hours Later

It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.

Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom. 

“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”

Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.

“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”

“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up. 

“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”

“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”

“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”

“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”

“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms. 

“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”

“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”

“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”

“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.

He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.

But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.

And tossed it straight into the fireplace.

“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”

“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”

“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.

“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.

Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.

“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”

“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.

“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”

You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”

“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”

You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”

Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.

“The more in the dark you are-”

“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”

“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.

“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”

You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.

“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”

“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”

The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”

“No I don’t,” he whispered. 

“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”

He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”

“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”

He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”

“Dean-”

“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.

“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.

“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”

“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”

He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?” 

He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”

“Ever kill an animal?”

“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”

“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#dean x reader #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #abo #alpha!Dean x omega!reader

[ctrlhope]

Warm (m)

synopsis: the second yoongi steps into your apartment, any hope for a quiet night in instantly vanishes from his mind.

m.yoongi x f.reader

☀︎ ⋆⁺ ┊: wc: 3.6k

☀︎ ⋆⁺ ┊: genre: a/b/o, fluff, pwp

☀︎ ⋆⁺ ┊: content: a/b/o, omega!yoongi, omega!reader, heat cycles, knotting, dirty talk, breeding/impreg kink, alpha kink, slight degradation, minimal prep, pwp, yoongi is hopelessly in love

☀︎ ⋆⁺ ┊: notes: hi!! this drabble came to me while i was trying to take a nap. it would not leave until it came to fruition. <33

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The whimper that leaves your lips is the most pathetic thing he thinks he’s ever experienced, coming second only to the sight of you curled up in his bed.

Your body pulled together in a ball, trying your hardest to wrap every blanket in the house around your trembling form. Body writhing around, both too hot and cold at the same time. Searing pain from the inside out crossing every nerve ending you have. Clothes from both of your closets scattered all across the bed in an attempt to make some semblance of a proper nest– but there was no time.

Your heat came early.

Yoongi knew the second he stepped inside of the house. Any plans of having a nice, relaxing dinner with his girlfriend were cast away the moment he inhaled– took in the smell permeating the entirety of the apartment. The familiar white hot heat of it sending a shutter down his spine, making him close his eyes instantly to try and take in more of it. To live in it.

Shit. How fucking far along are you already?

His legs itched; the urge to sprint to the bedroom stronger than anything else he’s ever felt. But fuck. He needs to be responsible. He needs to be coordinated so he can help you thoroughly without any distractions.

He stumbles over his own shoes, quickly pulling the tie off of his neck. Shoes come off in much the same fashion– disregard in a heap along with his backpack.

The few minutes he spends sending emails to his supervisor as well as your own feel like they had to have taken years. Though any moment spent away from you feels like that. When he could be inside of you, breeding you nice and full of his pups like he knows you want– you need.

Fuck. No, no. He needs to focus. He needs to finish sending these emails, place an order for some food to be delivered, grab some towels, and fill up a few water bottles. He can’t think about that. Even if your body is screaming for him, even if the smell makes him feel like he might go insane.

His fingers tap faster at his phone, doing his utmost to check off the list one by one. Fuck. How are you always so composed during his heat? You move with such kindness, such grace while you attend to his every need and desire. Meanwhile here he is, fingers shaking as he fills up the waterbottles because he just can’t fucking take it anymore.

He would call it humiliating, meanwhile you would think it’s adorable.

His hands grip the countertop, doing their utmost to will his cock down with sheer determination alone. He can be with you. He’s almost there.

It’s not his fault that you do this to him. It’s only natural– two years into the relationship and you both know each other inside and out. Already spending multiple heats together, discussing it countless times as well means this should all be commonplace. He shouldn’t be having this much trouble. But your smell this time around… he doesn’t know if he can take it.

It’s different. Sweeter, maybe. Different… but good. He thinks he’s going to get drunk off of it. Drunk off of you.

He would love to.

A hand runs through his hair, sweat already dotting his skin. His button-down is tugged off of his shoulders. The entire apartment feels warmer. Or maybe it’s just him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.

The second he finally enters the bedroom, the feeling is nothing less than ethereal. The short, sharp inhale he takes isn’t enough yet it's all too much at the same time. You consume him whole from the inside out. Robbing him of the ability to breathe, to think. To feel human when all he wants is to be inside of you. To take care of his precious girlfriend and make her feel fulfilled.

The groan that resonates from his throat doesn’t feel like his own, coming out against his own will. His face flushes in embarrassment, though his cock still strains against the material of his slacks, begging for release. Begging to be buried inside of you. Begging to make you feel complete.

Another breathless whimper leaves your lips– your senses must’ve finally kicked in. Noticed your boyfriend's presence against all of the other swirling emotions that you feel inside.

Your face pokes out from under the mound of blankets, your gaze telling him everything he needs to know. Eye’s half-lidded, pupils blown out so wide he could almost imagine there was no colour in them to begin with. Soft lips parted in a pant, taking in short, quick breaths of air. Hair a mess, thin sheen of sweat covering every inch of skin.

You would probably say you look disgusting and that you need a shower, Yoongi would say you’re the most beautiful girl alive.

But this is not the time for words like that to be exchanged. Not when you clammer out from under the blankets, trying your best to put them around you in a nest in what little time you have. Little chants of ‘hurry’ leave your lips as you try your best to fix everything to be right. Well, whatever “right” is in your heat-addled brain.

Yoongi watches it all. From the way your eyes got a little wider the second they found him, to the way you moved with such fierce haste even though your arms were trembling. Every cute little movement– every tiny expression that crosses your face as you get annoyed that you’re not moving fast enough.

A smile crosses his lips, watching you work. Watching how adorably you move to try and accommodate for him as fast as possible.

It drops the second you flinch in pain. The second you cry out and lay back against the bed. Returning to the safety of a ball as you clutch your stomach in pain.

He’s on the bed in a second, hands digging into the sheets as he starts to crawl towards you, encasing your frame with his own. His large hand comes up to cup your cheek, gentle and tender as he can manage.

The look on your face sends arousal straight to his cock. The fire in your eyes. Your lips greedily taking in his thumb to suck on it.

“Yoonie… Yoonie… you– it hurts so bad a-and–” You try to stutter out, though it is clear your heat makes it difficult to do any such thing, “I need you– w-want you so bad a-and it’s gonna feel so good I promise! Please!”

You whine, kicking your legs slightly in both annoyance and need. It sends a quiet chuckle through Yoongi. The desperation in your tone is nothing less than amusing.

The glare you send back has that gummy smile on his lips planted firm as he pulls away.

“I’m serious! It hurts so bad Yoongi!” You practically hiccup, tears brimming in your eyes from lack of contact. A million emotions at once running through you. Unsure of which you truly want to act on or feel. But you trust him. You know he’s going to take care of you.

“I know.” Is all he says. He kneels in front of you, taking in your form. Getting one last look before he finally gives in to the desires he’s had since first entering the home. Scanning you from head to toe.

When they move lower, finally glancing down between your legs he knows he can’t hold back anymore. You’re soaked through– underwear practically transparent as it clings to your needy heat.

How many times did you cum before he came home? How many times did you break down in a sob because it didn’t feel as good as when he was with you? How desperate did his poor thing get?

His gaze hardens, hands moving with sudden precision as he undoes his belt. Any embarrassment, any childish excitement has been squashed down. Entirely different beast taking over.

His slacks are quickly pushed down along with his briefs, cock finally springing free. A hiss leaves his lips, a small amount of relief taking over. A gasp leaves your own, face suddenly trained– not daring to look away as if he would disappear.

His hand wraps around the base, squeezing it slightly to try and find some peace. But he knows there will be none. Not until he’s inside of you. Not until he’s filling you with his knot. Until you’re satisfied and whining for him.

“Shit.” He grunts, though it’s clear it’s not directed at you.

“Yoongi…” You mumble. Eyes begging, pleading.

“I know honey… hurts so bad…” His hand gently grazes your ass, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. He likes you like this, a perfect view of the world just for him. Your back pressed against the mattress, hips turned to the side, legs together. You look so cute.

His fingers dip lower, gently threading themselves under the too-thin material of your underwear. Pushing it aside so the air of the room hits your core.

His breath pauses at the sight. Fuck.

He’s already addicted.

“Just let me take care of you.” He sighs, allowing his thumb to gently circle around your hole. Never dipping inside, never filling you like you cave so intricately. Instead, his cock presses against your cunt. Messy, red head so close to entering you. So close to filling you. To breeding you.

A chill runs down your spine, looking up at your boyfriend with all of the stars in your eyes. You’re going to die if he keeps standing there like he has the patience of a saint. Like he’s going to tease and torment you until you explode when really he knows that you just need him inside and everything in the world will be right again.

“Baby… focus on me…” His words are gentle, soothing. Somehow shining through your heat and allowing you to understand his words for the first time with perfect clarity. He is the only one in the world that matters.

“You’re gonna take all of me yeah? I don’t need to prep your pretty cunt at all do I? I mean look at it, so wet. So ready. You can take it right?” You practically growl in response, annoyed that he even paused fucking you to ask such a thing. When he could be fucking you. Could have made you cum 3 times already!

The wiggle of your hips leaves him smirking, “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you could take it. Since it’s hurting so bad and all.” The cocky grit to his voice lets annoyance coat your veins. Makes you want to pounce on him, sink down on his cock until–

He smiles, watching the gears turn in that little head of yours. Watching as you process everything with such confused need. Ah, he might as well give into what you truly want huh? Finally let the cord snap for himself as well.

He squeezes the base of his cock once more before sliding his hand over the entire length. Pre-cum practically drips from the tip as he slowly rubs the head of his cock over your swollen lips, dragging your messy arousal over himself.

Slowly, deliberately, he presses the tip against your cunt, less than a centimeter away from thrusting inside. Hand dragging up his length a final time as his cock twitches with desire. Thumb coming up to the tip, aiding his cock as he finally painstakingly thrusts the head inside.

His cock slowly forces its way into your hole, stretching you in a way you could have never before fathomed. Something between a moan and a cry breaks out of your throat, the pain, the burning finally ceasing once he's inside of you.

His thumb moves up to your clit, flicking gently over the bud in a way that has your back arching off of the bed. Soon, he’s pressing down harshly, almost painfully that has you coughing out a whine. One that you wouldn’t imagine hiding away from him. It finds its place, moving gentle circles around your clit to keep you going. Keep you complacent while he fills you with his cock.

He doesn’t allow himself a break to breath, knowing the second that he does he’s going to lose himself completely. Yoongi is a patient man, but you’re the straw that breaks the camel's back every single time. His end, his epiphany.

When his hips finally meet your own, when you’re finally filled to the brim with nothing but Yoongi you find yourself falling apart. You’ve been waiting too long to hold off any longer. The whole day you spent trying to find a satisfying release yet nothing could compare to this. To this feeling.

Walls flutter around him, pulling him close. Making him stay close to your eyes. Mouth cresting into a small moan as your nails dig into the sheets. Allowing waves of pleasure to run down your spine, all the way into your toes.

He stays completely still, allowing you to use him like you need. Allowing you to fall apart into nothing more than your base safe around his cock. The sight is one he wishes he had a picture of. One he could keep forever.

“Fuck.” The words come down in a harsh breath as his body moves down to cage your own. Your walls still flutter around him greedily, the effects of your orgasm not placating your heat in the slightest, “Did the pretty girl just really cum for nothing? Just used me as a fucking cocktoy, huh?”

His breath is hot in your ear, immediately extinguishing any relief you once had from your release. You need him more than ever. You don’t think you could ever live without him. You don't want to.

A harsh groan leaves his lips as he finally starts to move his hips. Long and painfully slow thrusts are all you get from him. All he’s willing to give you. If he gives you any more he knows he's going to fall apart.

“What? Couldn’t have just used a dildo for that huh?” His lips spit venom straight into your ear. Every single syllable sends arousal straight to your gut, pussy clenching around him. It’s rare he talks like this. Rare he’s vocal at all– it’s the only real sign you have of how much you’re affecting him. How much he’s revelling at your shrine.

A quick scoff leaves his lips, hips speeding up becoming harsher. “Poor thing. Doesn’t even know what she wants. Will just take what I give her. Isn’t that right?”

He leans backwards, hand gripping your ass cheek as he fucks his hips into your cunt faster. Harder. You swear you could feel him in your lungs. Feel him become a part of you entirely. Swear you could live with him inside of you just like this.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, chorused by the sounds of pleasure that fall messily from your lips. Blunt nails dig into your hips as he flips you fully onto your back, thrusts his cock as deep into your tender walls as heaven will allow.

Another cuss leaves his lips as he feels somehow deeper than before. Fucking open your pussy on his cock as if it is his only purpose.

“When I came in here,” Your legs are pulled over his shoulders, cock pounding into you at a brutal pace, “I was going to make love to my sweet omega.”

He grunts, looks down at you with some concoction of lust and love drawn across his features. One hand caressing up your leg in such a sweet motion that it’s hard to fully comprehend when just a little lower he’s fucking into you like an animal. His pointer and middle finger lace under the chain around your ankle– the dainty anklet he gave to you with his initials. The one he always finds himself playing with. The one that reminds him that you belong to each other.

“But then I saw a messy little thing. One that couldn’t even wait for me to come home. Had to play with her pussy all on her own,” His other hand wraps around your hip, blunt nails digging into the tender skin, “And I knew she just needed to be fucked and bred.”

Your cunt clenches around him as a moan falls from your lips. Hips arching up, trying to meet his thrusts with everything you have left.

“You’d like that huh? To be fucked over and over again until you’re bred full of my pups?” He grunts, his cock twitching in response to his own words. You, on the other hand, are a complete mess. Heat completely takes over your brain. Dismissing any logic and reason you might’ve had. Replacing it with incessant need. Wanting Yoongi to do nothing more than fulfil those very words.

You nod your head frantically, hands twisting into the sheets as you try to ground yourself. Try to stay in whatever reality still exists. Deep down you know there isn’t one. Not when Yoongi is making promises like this to you.

The base of his cock starts to swell– he knows he won’t last much longer at all. He starts to catch at your opening, stretching you farther, causing a mewl to leave your lips at the sting. Try to adjust to it as he fucks into you as deep and as hard as he can. Forcing you to take it, take all of him.

“Fuck the poor thing over and over again until she’s dripping for weeks. Fuck her until we’re sure she’s gotta be full.” All of a sudden, you’re falling over the edge again. A heart stopping, head pounding orgasm taking over every square inch of skin, lighting it ablaze with a fire that could never be quelled.

“Please! Please Yoongi!” You beg wistfully, not sure of what you’re saying entirely as the rush of dopamine courses through your system. Dotting your vision and clouding your brain of any real ideas of visions. The waves or orgasm leave you clamping down around his cock once again, urging him to knot you.

“Please Alpha!” The nickname, one that is never meant for him sends him entirely over the edge. His hips stuttering, forcing himself as deep as he can inside of your wet heat as white begins to paint the inside of your walls. Knot finally swelling to full size, keeping him locked inside and he takes all of the pleasure you’re willing to give to him.

Soft breaths slowly fill the room, bodies slowly untensing as the pressure is finally relieved. Even if it’s only for a moment, the bliss is insurmountable. The feeling of being connected, of being cared for has you reaching out to him. Wanting attention, wanting love. Well, at least until the next round of your heat decides to come and his knot retracts in size.

A soft smile overtakes his face, fingers circling the bone of your ankle to soothe you. His other hand comes up, quickly pushing the hair out of his eyes.

He’s so gentle. A complete 180 from the man he was only minutes before. Ever so carefully moving your legs away from him, shifting you onto your side as he moves in front of you. Sliding his thigh in between your legs to keep you close. Going as slow and meticulous as he can as to not hurt you with his cock still nestled deep inside.

He pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin. Despite how sticky and gross you suddenly feel, you’re overcome with a sense of safety. Of belonging that only Yoongi ever seems to be able to provide.

A quiet “thank you” leaves your lips as you gently press a kiss against his chest. Smiling like an absolute idiot now that you’re held in your boyfriend's arms. Hunger satiated.

He hums quietly, running his fingers up and down the skin of your back. Gently scratching it in the way he knows you adore. Trying to not think too hard about the way you begged for him– begged for your alpha even though he knows he’s no such rank.

He almost wishes he never spilled the kink to you one drunken night. He was too careless, too oblivious about sharing the one thing he’s kept secret his entire life. An omega wanting to be called an alpha is taboo, something that could get him seriously hurt. But the way you say it so pretty has him wanting it to be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

It fills him with pride. With greed. With so many things at once it’s hard to hold himself back.

“Wasn’t too much right?” He asks softly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You quickly shake your own in response looking up at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

“Perfect.” You confirm, nodding with determination.

He can’t help but smile at you. Nothing else he wants to do, really. He fully intends on spending the rest of his life with you, just like this.

You’ll never know what you do to him, he doesn’t think. Never know the way you make him feel so wanted. So needed as not only a partner but a person as well. Never fully comprehend the innate way that you complete him. Make him feel warm. Filled in every missing hole he had in his heart with your own.

He never thought another omega would be able to do that. Never thought he would find a mate of his own that he truly cares about– loves in the way that he does you. He has to be the luckiest man in the world. At least he’ll always believe so.

“I love you.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #yoongi fic #min yoongi #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut

[cozage]

May i ask a headcanon list for Luffy, Sanji and Zoro reaction to their s/o being a cp0 agent?

A/N: I am just now noticing as I finish up this work that you asked for a headcanon LIST. Forgive me for the mix-up!

Characters: female reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: betrayal, angst with no happy ending  Total word count: 1.6k

Double Agent

Luffy

“It can’t be,” Luffy muttered from the doorway.  

Shit. You had been compromised. Luffy was supposed to be off in the jungle. How had he tracked you to this abandoned building?

“Luffy!” you hissed, stepping in front of the other agent. “What are you doing here?”

“I left that emergency steak with you,” he said, his eyes wide. You had promised him your lunch and forgotten to give it to him. Of course he followed the scent here. 

“We have to get rid of him,” the agent behind you said, reaching for his weapon. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t let him kill the captain of the Stawhats. 

“Absolutely not!” you reached for your own weapon, glaring at him. “You know our orders.”

“If you’re position is compromised-”

“Then killing the captain isn’t going to help much!”

The other agent raised his brow. “Getting soft? They’re pirates. It’s reckless to let him live.”

You scoffed. “You’re the one being reckless. Leave him be. We can still watch from afar.”

“This is a joke, right?” Luffy’s shaky voice came from the doorway again, full of uncertainty. 

You steeled yourself and faced him, putting on a bored face. “It is no joke. I’m afraid I’ve just been sloppy in covering my tracks.”

“You can’t be CP-0.” His face slowly turned to rage. “You would never-”

“Apparently you’ve sparked the interest of some very important people.”

The man behind you clicked his tongue in disapproval. You were saying too much. But you needed Luffy to leave here. He had to leave alive. 

Luffy stared into your eyes, and you swore he was staring into your soul. “I refuse to believe this is the real you. I know you. I love you. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me at all, Monkey D. Luffy.” You put an extra taunt in his full name. “You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of.” You gave him a wicked grin, letting the worst parts of yourself out into the open for him to see. 

“Come back to the Sunny,” he begged, unphased by the wickedness on your face. “We can figure it out together.”

“I have no reason to return there. Besides, you would just make me a prisoner when I set foot on deck.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed. “I would never restrain you-”

“Leave, Luffy.” You tried your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Leave now, or don’t leave at all.”

“Permission to terminate, then?” The Agent took a step towards Luffy, and it took everything in you to remain where you stood. 

You pulled out your weapon and threw all of your hate into the stare you gave Luffy. “Leave.”

“This isn’t over until we talk-”

You fired a warning shot, missing his head by a centimeter. “Leave.”

“I’ll get you back. This isn’t over,” Luffy promised, and then he walked out the door. 

Sanji

“This is an interesting place for a picnic, my love!” Sanji’s kind voice rang out amongst the trees. “Where are you hiding?”

The other agent’s eyes widened. “You left a trail?” she hissed.

“Never,” you whispered back. “I-”

“There you are!” Sanji launched himself toward you, wrapping you in a hug. “And who is this fine young woman with you? Did you bring company?”

The agent’s hand moved to her gun, and you gave one quick shake, trying to prevent her from blowing your cover.

“Just a friend,” you said between gritted teeth. “We were just saying goodbye. Could you give us a moment, Sanji?”

“The lady can stay if she’d like!” Sanji quickly said. “I have plenty-”

“I would never sully myself with such company,” the woman snapped. She looked at you. “You’re being called back in.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“Come on,” the woman said. “No more use for appearance. We’ll leave him alive for now.”

Sanji, somehow, kept up a smile. He had no idea what was occurring, but you could tell that he was nervous. 

“My love?” He asked, looking at you with a forced smile and worry in his eyes.

“I have to go, Sanji.” You shouldered your backpack with everything you had collected. 

“No,” he said softly. “You can stay. I don’t know who this woman is but-”

“This woman is your lover’s superior,” the woman said. “And she never loved you. She was just using you for intel.”

“No. Tell them, my love. Tell them what a mistake they have made.”

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. He was a pirate. You were a government agent. It was supposed to be easier than this. You were used to betraying people, and yet this created a strange ache in your chest. 

“I work for CP-0,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was tasked to infiltrate your crew and obtain records. Watch you all from the inside.”

“Impossible-” Sanji said

But you had to keep going. You had to break him so he would never come looking for you. “I chose you because it was the easiest. You had access to everything. And when I needed to look for specific things, I added sleeping medicine to the tea you served everyone. It was too easy. 

“I don’t believe you.” Sanji had tears in his eyes now. “It wasn’t all fake.”

You sneered at him. “You were so desperate for love, you accepted the bare minimum of affection without a second thought.”

He slumped to his knees, his eyes getting a far-away look in them. Your heart cracked, but your face showed no emotion as you looked down at him. “I’m only letting you live now so you have to live with this failure. But I will come for you one day. And I will kill you.”

He gave a single nod of acknowledgement, as if he had expected this; as if he deserved it. 

He didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him. But if you showed an ounce of weakness, you knew the agent next to you would kill him. So you turned and left, knowing that his empty stare would haunt your dreams forever. 

Zoro

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro shouted. “Who the hell is that guy?”

The agent next to you fired a bullet before you could react, and you cried out in warning. But the bullet only met steel. Zoro had sliced right through it. 

“I knew you were getting weak. No wonder they wanted to pull you from this mission,” the agent chuckled. He kept his gun aimed at Zoro, but was watching you carefully. 

No. No. How had Zoro found you? He was the last person who should be here right now. He always got lost. How on earth had he found you?

Zoro was still staring at you, waiting for an answer. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the man or the weapons he had. 

“Stand down,” you growled between clenched teeth. 

“I do not take orders from you,” the agent snarled back. 

Zoro was still watching. Hell, how could you play this to get him out alive? You couldn’t have him getting hurt. You had already said your goodbyes in letters to the crew. You had made up some reason to leave. But Zoro, of all people, had managed to find you. 

“I’m leaving the crew!” you shouted to him. 

A trace of hurt passed over Zoro’s face. “You’re taking some government recruitment position over us? You can’t be serious.”

“Not recruitment,” the agent next to you purred, and you froze. “Have you ever heard of CP-0, Roronoa Zoro? Of course you have. You were at Enies Lobby, weren’t you?”

You stiffened at his words. You could see Zoro trying to figure out the secret meaning the man was taunting home with. 

Just leave, you begged silently. Please leave. 

But the agent sent to retrieve you was not finished burning bridges for you. “Your “crewmate” here isn’t a new recruit. No, they’re a seasoned veteran of the organization.”

Zoro stilled. Only his fingers twitched, itching to reach for his blade as he watched you with predator-like senses. 

“Zoro,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what to say, but you had to say something to him.

“Go. Get out of my sight.” You could see him shaking. From rage, most likely. From betrayal. 

The agent next to you gave a humorous laugh. “Do you think we are going to let you live?”

“We are letting him live,” you said, too quiet for Zoro to hear. “That was the agreement.”

The agent gave you a wicked smile. “He brought this upon himself, following you out here.”

“Let him go,” you snarled softly. “Or you will not leave this island.”

You had been baited. You knew it the moment his eyes lit up. Proof that your allegiance was to the Strawhats over CP-0. Proof that you needed to be reprogrammed in some capacity. 

He waved a hand lazily at Zoro. “You may go. We have to go as well. We have some work to do.”

You gave Zoro one last look, trying to convey how sorry you were about everything. He should’ve just stayed on the ship, read the damn letter, and accepted that you had left the crew.  

Your eyes met Zoro’s just for a moment, and then you turned away and followed the agent down the path. And as much as you wanted to, you didn’t look back. 

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x y/n #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #cozage #✧˚luffy✧˚ #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚zoro✧˚

[love-bitesx]

im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!

*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)



i may be back with more, until then i salute you!

i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe

i’d love to expand! ~

- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.

- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.

- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.

- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.

- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.

- “how are you, loverboy?”

- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”

- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”

- “did you hit your head, bro?”

- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.

- “shit.”

- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”

- “shit.”

- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him

- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.

- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away

- he hated that he liked loving you

- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.

- “hey, loverboy”

- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face

- “loverboy?”

- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?

- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”

- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck

- “i-i guess so”

- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface

- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”

- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both

- he was obsessed with you

- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it

- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him

- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips

- even in public, almost especially in public

- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud

- THE NICKNAMES.

- THE. NICKNAMES.

- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names

- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway

- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you

- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…

- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)

- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.

- “hey, love?”

- you hum in response

- “i wanna give you something.”

- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him

- “what are you—”

- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger

- “here.”

- “hobie, are you—”

- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”

- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger

- “it’s just a promise.”

- “a promise?”

- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”

- “oh, hobie.”

- you cry a tiny bit

- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead

- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.

- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”

- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”

i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe

#hobie brown x you #hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie #spiderpunk #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #love bitesx

[steddie-island]

Maybe it's not so obvious

@steddiemas day 16 - Angst themed sentence starters | WC: 996 | Rating: M (for language) | CW for light angst See full list of tags on ao3

“Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.” 

Steve looked like he’d been kicked, and Eddie regretted his words immediately. Still, he had to put how he felt out there. He had to let Steve know that he was doing a terrible goddamn job of concealing the fact that he was miserable here. “Stop looking at me like that, like I just grew a second head. It’s true, and you know it.” 

“No it isn’t.” Steve was still frowning, and Eddie had the urge to reach out and smooth a thumb over his brow. He was going to get wrinkles if he kept doing that– not that Eddie had a problem with that, but the hundreds of dollars of skincare shit in Steve’s bathroom probably didn’t appreciate him making the problem worse. Eddie shifted where he stood and carefully made his way past the boxes of Christmas decorations scattered around the living room. The crutches made it easier for him to get around, but he’d proven a few times now that he could still fall while he was using them. “Just– stop lying, Steve. I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting, man. You– you’ve barely touched me, you won’t look at me. Just– stop pretending, all right? Do us both a favor and– go.” He fell onto the couch with a grunt, spent several long moments getting comfortable before he finally looked up at Steve.

Steve, whose eyes were wide and wet. “Eddie, you don’t– you don’t really think I don’t want to be here, do you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m pretty goddamn sure I just made it obvious that I know you don’t want to be,” he said. His voice was soft, despite the heat he meant to be behind his words. “You don’t want to be here, and maybe– maybe I don’t want you here, either.” Lie. That was a lie. Eddie wanted Steve here so bad that it made him ache, which made Steve’s wanting to be gone so bad hurt that much more. 

“You don’t… want me here?” Steve whispered. It was different if Eddie thought he didn’t want to be here, but if Eddie didn’t want him here… 

Eddie couldn’t answer, though, was suddenly very interested in the hole in the knee of his jeans. He’d barely gotten the lie out once, if Steve poked and prodded it was all going to come spilling out. 

“Eddie.” Steve took a second to move two boxes of decorations out of the way so Eddie could get around better later– always so goddamn thoughtful, even when he was being yelled at. “Eddie. Do… do you really not want me here?”

Eddie made a soft sound but didn’t look away from his knee. Why would Steve want to be here? Why would Steve choose to be in their shitty government bought trailer– which was less shitty than the trailer they’d lived in before, to be sure, but it was still a shitty trailer. Why would he want to be with Eddie when he had that big beautiful house, that he was sure was just dripping with decorations put up by some overpriced professional who carried a fucking chihuahua in her purse, even here in fucking Hawkins. His parents might not be there, but he could have Robin there, and the kids. Steve had no fucking reason to want to be here. With him. 

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was small, quiet, and when Eddie looked over at him and saw the hurt on his face, he wanted to kick his own ass. 

“C’mon, Steve. I mean– why would you want to be here?” he asked, voicing some of his feelings finally. “I’ve seen you. The last few days you’ve walked around looking like you want to puke. I touch you, you pull away like you can catch something from me. If you’re tired of me–” He was cut off with a kiss, with Steve simultaneously pulling him in and surging forward himself, until their lips met in a kiss that was messy and clumsy. 

It certainly did the job, though, and when they broke apart Eddie’s eyes were wide. 

“I didn’t realize– I wasn’t trying to tell you that I don’t want to be here.” Steve swallowed hard. “I’ve been– trying not to let it out that I’m– these past few months, since you got out of the hospital… they’ve meant the world to me. Getting to know you, and your uncle… Fuck, Eddie. How could I want to be anywhere but here with you?” He swallowed. “I’ve been trying not to be a creep. I mean– I’ve helped you in the bath. What kind of pervert does that make me? And then the other day– you made a joke about mistletoe and I let myself hope for just a moment that maybe you could want me, too, but if you don’t–”

It was Steve’s turn to get cut off as Eddie gripped the lapels of his stupid fucking polo and pulled him in close. This kiss was clumsy, too, but as Steve wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and slipped closer, as Eddie leaned back into the corner of the couch and pulled Steve into his lap, it melted into something better, something warm and soft and so fucking tender. 

“I want you here,” Eddie whispered. “I’ve wanted you here the whole time, Stevie baby.”

“And I want to be here,” Steve murmured back. He lifted a hand to comb through Eddie’s hair, like he’d done a dozen times before, only this time he wasn’t just trying to help Eddie keep it untangled after a bath. “I’ve wanted to be here the whole time. Since before you woke up.” 

“I’m a fucking idiot.” Eddie shook his head and pulled Steve closer, until the other boy was practically lying on top of him. “Forgive me?” Steve bumped their noses together. “Only if you kiss me again.”

Eddie grinned, and was more than happy to comply. 

#Steddiemas #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #Steddie #Steddie drabble #Steve x Eddie #Holiday drabble #My fic #My writing

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem!reader

master list

summary: feelings burst. Fluffy. Fluffy fluffy. Eddie helps reader when she finds herself in a bind.

warnings: no minors gtfo- eventual smut in the series.

W.C: 11.8k 🫣

A/N: per usual thank you the my beta readers @sweetsweetjellybean

//

Clunk

Clunk clunk humm

You were already late for work this morning and now this? Must be a fucking Monday. This must be that bitch karma’s payback for you talking shit about Eddie’s van the other night when he backed it up to the garage to unload some shit he salvaged from the junkyard.

“You would think that since you’re a mechanic, you could tune up that piece of shit so it isn’t so fucking loud.”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, unloading another arm load of car parts from the back of the van to the middle of the garage, “don’t dog on the shaggin’ wagon, you know how much ass I get in this thing?”

The unspoken agreement you had with Eddie the other night after spilling your guts about your past, gave you more patience towards him than ever before. Instead of finding him repulsive, you two were almost friends.

“No I don’t and also I don’t care.” you say taking a bite of a ham sandwich.

“More than a public toilet seat,” Eddie boasts, “Ladies love it, feel like I’m Shaggy or something.”

More like his other four-legged snack-loving friend.

“I really hope you use a rubber, don’t wanna extend the Munson blood line anymore than you have to,” you bite back.

“Oh sweetheart, I always wrap it with the groupies, especially watching Jas bounce from Gareth, to Big D to Walt all in one night.”

“Well look at you, Mr. Perfect bill of health.”

Eddie smiles widely a stupid grin plastered on his face, “I’m so good at the doctors they even give me a sticker. ”

-

Now here you are, stranded at the gas station east of town, past Merrill’s pumpkin patch. Losing all faith in your sanity, you slam your hand into the steering wheel one more time. Your chunky boots clunk across the pavement as you pull the door towards you, a dingy brass bell dings overhead, alerting the gas station attendant that someone has entered the store.

“Back again?” the balding creep with the greasy combover presses. His coke bottle thick glasses full of breakfast pizza slime from his fingers from pushing them up on in place after sliding down the oils on his nose. A brown paper bag with orange spray paint sitting next to it sat on the counter, and a tinge of orange around his mouth.

With no time for small talk or shooting the shit with the local bachelors of Hawkins, you simply need to borrow the phone and call… fuck. You didn’t want to have to call Boom’s, but the other shops didn’t open yet, and you didn’t know any of them. The decision was made.

“I need to use the phone,” you say laying your hands on the counter.

“No can do, this is a business line,” he spits, bits of his barely chewed breakfast falling from his over stuffed mouth.

Irritated beyond belief you say through gritted teeth, “What? My car broke down, I need to have it towed.”

Showing no sympathy, the combover greaseball says, “That sucks, don’t it,” a throaty chuckle erupts from him. Clearly the man got off from making next to little effort in helping someone.

“Listen,” you say peering over the counter to read the slobs name tag, “Ralph— you’re going to give me the goddamn phone so I can get my car towed, or I’m going to tell your boss about your little huffing habit. Got it?”

His cheeks crimson at your threat, “…what’s the number?”

After dialing it wrong three times, Ralph’s oversized fingers and his altered mind getting hung up on where the 4 was on the dusty rotary phone, you hastily reach across the counter and grab it and the Hawkins phone book. Flipping through the worn yellow pages, finding the number yourself and slotting your fingers in the appropriate places to get the number correct, it finally starts ringing.

Angrily tapping your foot, the serenade of dial tone ringing loud in your ear.

“Boom’s” a bored voice says, after ehat seems like hours of waiting.

“Hey, — is Eddie there?”

A scoff is heard from the other end of the phone, followed by an annoyed voice, “Why who wants to know?”

You don’t have time for childish games with whoever this fucking prick is. “Jesus Christ what is it with assholes today? Is he there or no?”

“I don’t know, you stupid bitch— why don’t you tell me if Eddie is here or—”

A scuffle is heard as the phone falls to the ground.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Huh? I’ll drop your ass just name the time and place mother fuck— hello?”

“Eddie?” You ask exhaustedly.

“Tooty? Oh shit, you miss me so much you’re making calls to my work?”

“E—” you begin, frustration rising.

“Or did you call to gossip? Ooooh, tell me all about the salon drama, is it that blonde again, damn just slap her already I know you want to.”

“Ed—!”

“Shit if you’re worried about going to jail I’ll come bail y—”

“Edward Joseph Munson!”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Did you just use my full name? I only hear that when I’m in trouble with Wayne.”

“Will you listen to me?! I need help. I’m at the gas station east of town and my car won’t start.”

“What? What happened?” Eddie asks, his joking tone immediately fading to concern.

“I have no idea, but I’m already late for work—can you come pick me up?”

“Usually this is where a please would be.”

“Eddie!”

“Ooh even begging?”

“Goddamnit,” you say under your breath, “Eddie will you please, come get me?”

“That a girl, see that wasn’t so hard. So where are you?”

-

Eddie rolls up in an old orange and white tow truck, head banging with a cigarette hanging limply from his bottom lip. “So what happened?”

“Well I drove here, got gas, and then it just wouldn’t start.”

“Damn, I wonder if your starter is out.”

“Great, so what the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it is that or not, but if it’s not that— it means that your car is probably going to need more work than it’s worth, but I won’t know until I get it in the shop.”

“Son of a bitch.” you curse, covering your face with your hands and tipping your head back up to the sky. Could this fucking day get any worse?

After buying the house last year, your savings were completely wiped out, the last few months you had been pinching pennies trying to build it back up

“I’ll tow it, but I don’t think Boom has any loaners right now,” Eddie explains, “but since I’m such a kind, handsome, good roommate….”

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll bring you to work.”

Shock evident on your face, “You sure?”

“I mean its either that or the city bus, and last I checked—Hawkins doesn’t have one.”

Eddie agrees to give you a ride until your car is fixed on one condition, the band gets to use the garage for practices again. Too tired to fight with him, you give in.

He backs the truck up, moving the steering wheel with one hand the other hanging out of the window, his tongue poked out through his lips. He jumps down from the truck and maneuvers the wheel lift into place by your front tires.

The muscles in his forearms jut out, tattoos dancing with each movement and covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he grabs the chains from the flatbed and hooks them along your front tires, securing them into place. Your car is lifted slightly giving enough clearance to be able to tow.

“Ready?”

-

Bouncing along side Eddie in the tow truck you sigh heavily, “fuck, I hate Mondays.”

“Okay, Garfield,” Eddie chuckles, turning down the radio and glancing towards you, a cigarette balanced between his teeth, “could always be worse,” he digs into his front pocket for his pack of cigarettes and hands them to you.

You smile weakly and take the pack from him, plucking a tanned filter from the pack and shoving it between your lips. Before you can even say that your lighter is in the car, he’s leaning over. A scratched zippo with a fading design on it, in his hand already flicked open, the flame threatening to go out with the help of the lazy breeze through the open driver’s side window. It’s the same lighter he’s had since you first bummed a cigarette from him when you were thirteen.

Leaning towards him you put the cigarette into the flame, inhaling deep— the cowboy killers burning the pinky tissue of your lungs. He flicks the lighter closed with a metallic snap and smiles out of the corner of his mouth at you. Suddenly your lungs aren’t the only thing burning.

“Thanks,” you say, trying to avoid the skips in your stomach, “I usually prefer menthols, but I guess, these’ll do,”

“Always gotta bust my balls dontchya?” Eddie laughs, a stream of smoke billowing out from his nose. “Hey, uh— I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but that gas station is rated 5 stars on the creepiest place in town.”

You glare your eyes at him, absolutely not having it, “they have cheap gas.”

“There’s a reason for that, and every drug dealer in town sells out of there,” Eddie scolds.

“You would know,” you say in a hateful tone.

“You’re right,” Eddie protests, looking at you earnestly, “I would know— it’s not a good place to be— no matter what time of day, so stay away from it.”

You knew he was trying to look out for you, and from what Steve said, — he blamed himself for the things Chad did to you. But it was never his fault, he didn’t know just like most of Hawkins didn’t. You lived with the Wheeler’s and not even they noticed until you walked home that night. You decide to let it be. For once in your life agreeing to what he had to say.

“Alright,”

-

Boom’s was on the opposite side of town, the rest of the drive you listened to Eddie hum along to the radio and snuck a peek at him playing air guitar. Despite him being so foul, and a royal pain in the ass, he was actually a decent human being.

No other men in their twenties could help you through your panic attack, aside from Steve. But Eddie? He was different from Steve in ways that you couldn’t grasp. You didn’t find yourself staring at Steve. Even if you had been swimming with him on more occasions than you can count. Sure he was good looking, but you never once understood why the girls at the pool practically flocked to him. Eddie hardly ever wore a shirt around you and your stomach ached each time you saw his broad shoulders and tattoos. Steve was like a brother to you, he scolded you and gave you advice, all with his hands permanently attached to his hips. A mother hen among his friends. Eddie teased and taunted you, his irritating behavior and the way he chewed his food, the way his hair was everywhere in the bathroom, the way his hair looked when he was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung on his hips. The way his hips made a ‘V’, small trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. Fuck.

Is it hot in here?

What the hell were you doing?

There’s no way.

No fucking way.

Nope, not today.

Not ever.

..

…

But what if?

-

Eddie couldn’t understand what was going on with you in the passenger seat. Instead of bitching at him like normal, you were staring out the window. Looking as if you were fighting a storm in your cute little head. Maybe you were reliving the past. Silently suffering through something that he should have been there to stop. But judging from your reflection against the dirty window, you didn’t seem to be crying.

After that night, Eddie was putting in more effort to make sure you felt safe. He gave you distance. Avoided the bathroom in the morning, and stopped making dick jokes altogether. He still joked around, still acted like an idiot— but his perverted meter was dipped into the green zone, the safety net.

He meant what he said, you didn’t have to be afraid with him around. And he would do whatever he could to prove that to you. So when you called Boom’s earlier and asked for help— he dropped everything to make the trek across town to pick you up. Especially when you told him the gas station you were at. Known for being the skeeziest one in town, he worried about you being there alone.

Seeing the tow truck pull into the parking lot, Sean and Aaron had their noses pressed against the glass, the cheap flimsy blinds hung crooked over their heads.

“Damn,” Aaron exclaims, “you were right, that is her.”

“Told you, Munson hasn’t shut up about her since he moved in. Wonder if Chad knows where she’s been hiding.”

-

Eddie parks the tow truck and you both climb out. He gives you the keys to his van and tells you he’d be right back. Walking into the shop with a whistle on his tongue, he goes into Boom’s office. He’s sitting at a worn down wooden desk. Papers, and receipts clutter space where a framed family picture might be. A steaming styrofoam cup of coffee in Boom’s left hand suggested he stopped at the donut mart, and a dozen of glazed holes from heaven would be sitting in the break room, their sweetness tantalizing the crew all day.

Eddie raps his knuckles against the yellowed paint by the door frame.

‘Yep,” Boom chirps without looking up, reading the daily arrest records in the Hawkins Post.

“Hey, I brought Tooty’s Escort back, I’m going to bring her to work quick and when I get back I’ll move it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Boom gripes, not looking up from the paper, sipping the coffee slowly.

“Dunno, I’ll take a look at it— “ Eddie shifts his weight from one foot to another, “I was wondering if I could maybe work on it after hours, or on the weekends.”

Boom considers what Eddie is saying, “off the clock?”

“Yeah, or maybe I could take some of my tools home? Work on it there?”

Boom thinks for a while, taking a sip of his coffee. His pudgy finger hovering near the name “William Hargrove” mulling over if he knew him. He finally looks up, “Whatever you wanna do, Eddie, you’ve got keys—I trust you.” Boom offers, “just don’t let those other two jackasses know what you’re doing and who for— that’s all they’ve been yappin’ about since you left this morning.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I’m just helping out a friend, don’t know why they give a fuck.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit— but you’re my best mechanic, and those other two are on their last strike with me. One more time I read their name in this paper and they’re both out of here, and when that time comes— I’m sure they’ll be lookin’ for someone to blame.”

-

The familiar scent of stale weed and a spilled rotting beer in the back of the van flood your nose. Even though his van was a dirty pile of shit and it stunk like hell, you’re thankful for Eddie taking time out of his day to help you.

He could have easily told you to fuck off, hung up on you the minute you called. But he didn’t. He kept good on his word even when he didn’t have to. He doesn’t owe you anything and yet here he was, proving to you again, that he could be someone to rely on. You peer at him through your lashes, falling deep into a spell of fondness. He was always clean shaven, showing off his babyish features. If you didn’t know his age you wouldn’t guess he was over twenty two, his youthful pale skin a glow like the moon across a lake at midnight. The deep browns of his eyes squint in the bright sun, his dark eyelashes almost kissing his cheeks. His thick ringed fingers tapping on the steering wheel as ‘Holy Diver’ plays gently in the background. The bob of his Adam's apple jutting out as he swallows and takes a drag from a cigarette.

You barely recognize your own voice when you say barely above a whisper, “thank you, by the way— not just for today but for the other night,” your fingers go back to the same nervous habit, twiddling the end of your cream lettuce hem shirt.

“Of course,” he says, a look of shock on his face, “I know I like to give you shit, but I wouldn’t leave you stranded somewhere.” He looks over at you lazily and smiles. The kind of smile associated with cool guys on tv, the kind of smile that’s crooked and truly only on one side of the face. And for the first time, you smile too, letting the warmth radiate through your body, venturing into places that you have to readjust your crossed legs to avoid entirely.

Pulling into the backlot of the salon, where you and Nancy smoke cigarettes and read trash magazines, you jump out thanking him again, the creak of the door slamming back into the frame as you wave goodbye.

“What time?” Eddie yelled after you, silently admiring the way the sun catches your face, highlighting your features, the slight breeze catching your hair, he can’t help the smile that dances on his lips. “What time are you off work?”

Walking back to him, he’s leaning his head back on the head rest, an arm hanging out of the window, a stupid grin on his face.

“My last client is at five and it’s just a cut, so probably six o’clock, why?” A creep of jittery shock threatens your nerves, fluttering your stomach and sending waves of fluster through your body.

“Thought I’d pick you up, unless you wanna walk home?” He smirks, tracing the small paint chip near where his fingers set on the door.

Biting your lip and moving back on your heels you make your way back to the door, “Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be back at six.”

“Six” you repeat, turning on your heel and walking into the salon.

-

Eddie has thought about you all day, the cards of life and the hand you were dealt were shitty. But he was happy he was around to help in any little way he could. He thought maybe he was crazy, seeing shit when you smiled at him, a sort of shyness in the way you flirted by dipping your head into your shoulder almost giddy at him picking you up.

But that couldn’t be.

-

The rest of your day was monotonous. Shampoo sets, perms, cuts, rinse and repeat. The long haired metalhead hardly left your mind. When it’s just you and Josie left in the salon after your last appointment, it’s 5:30. She sits down, exhaling loudly. Her long dark braids trailing to her waist, cascade down the length of the chair as she leans back.

“Broke down again? Girl, you need a car that actually works.” Her hot pink fingernails dip into a bag of skittles, popping them into her mouth.

“I know,” you sigh, throwing yourself into your salon chair, “hopefully in the next few months I’ll have enough saved to get myself a new one.”

“So how did you get here? If we had someone else in the salon today I would have came and picked you up,” her mouth puckered into a sucking expression as she pops another skittle into her mouth.

“My roommate… he works at Boom’s so he towed it there and then brought me to work,” you express nonchalantly.

“Ooh the rich one who you used to work with?”

“Steve?” You say with a laugh, “No, Eddie Munson.”

“Eddie Munson? Why does that name sound so familiar? Ohh the infamous Hawkins bad boy, my cousins used to run around with him, some club or somethin’ ”

“Yeah, that's him, he’s turned himself around quite a bit since high school though.” The annoying need to defend him is obvious in your tone.

Josie’s eyes go wide, “Wait—“ she says, pointing a pink nail at you, “he had a girlfriend. He’s living with you? Shit, you’re a brave one.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, the thought of Eddie having a secret girlfriend that you didn’t know about was almost torture on your soul, “no, no girlfriend… that I’m aware of at least.”

Speak of the devil and he will be present.

Opening the door with the sun waning behind him, peeking an orangy-yellow glow through his unruly curls, stood Eddie. His coveralls are full of motor oil and brake fluid. Black grease is smeared across his face, and his hands. Bandana still snug around his head.

“Oh shit,” Eddie blurts, eyes scanning around the room, bouncing from your face to Josie’s. Clearly uncomfortable in such a clean establishment. “Sorry, I’m uhh, a little early.”

Josie’s eyebrows are turned up in shock, her mouth slightly agape. “Damn, you’re the roommate!?”

Before she can embarrass you any further you blurt, “Josie, this is Eddie,” holding out a hand and pointing, introducing him to her, “Eddie this is my boss and the owner of the salon, Josie.”

Eddie waves with his fingers, “so you’re the one lookin’ after our girl here, the mechanic?” Josie asks.

“Uhh, yeah that’s me.” he puts a hand on the back of his neck and rubs it slow

Josie stands and walks towards you, a clicking of her heels and munching on her candy as she grabs your hand and drags you upwards, dragging you to the back of the salon.

Eddie looks around the room. The salon is decorated in light washes of pink and green and flowers decorate almost every surface, White painted baskets hang from the ceiling holding fake flowers. The salon chairs are black as are the mats under them. Green sinks in the back and cabinets overhead. Two mirrors on each wall and station with a name and family pictures decorate them. Eddie can’t help but notice that where you were sitting, there are only three pictures. A photo of you and Nancy looking like it was taken last summer, you’re holding up the keys to the blue ranch style house he now calls home. Another picture is of you Robin and Steve, in green Family Video Vests in front of the counter. You and Robin are both pulling one of Steve’s ears and he’s making a monkey face. The last picture is of you and Eyeball as kids, a portrait more than likely taken at a JC Penney’s.

“Don’t forget to lock up, okay? Enjoy your day off tomorrow. Eddie, be good to her!” Josie calls from the back, the heavy metal door slamming as she leaves for the night, a smile painted on her lips, shaking her head.

You walk back towards Eddie, he’s sitting in your chair, poking around at all of the different brushes and curling irons that were on your station. Your tired eyes scan him and find him in the mirror. “What is all this shit?”

“My tools to style, cut and color people’s hair.”

You’re standing behind him. You hesitantly grab one of his curls in between your fingers, noting how silky and smooth his hair is despite the split ends. “You could probably use a trim, Eddie. When was the last time you had your hair cut?”

“You think these curls have been in a salon? Please! I cut it myself thank you,”

“I can tell,” you mutter under your breath, going full hog and untying his sweaty bandana and tossing it onto the counter. “Come on, let’s go wash your hair, and then I’m gonna give you a trim.”

“You’re not cutting my hair.” Eddie protests, arms crossed and resisting.

“Your ends are dead, if you don’t take care of it now, it’ll keep going further up and then you’ll have to shave your head.”

Eddie practically trips standing up quickly. “Those are fighting words.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?” You ask in a bored tone.

“Actually no, but— okay fine! Only because you went to some fancy school.”

Eddie stomps over to the sink and sits down with a plop in the smooth cushioned black chair. You follow behind him and place your apron back around your neck, tightening it around your back. You lean his chair back telling him to lift his head from the headrest as you gather his curls into the basin.

Turning on the water and testing the temperature on your wrist, like a mother testing a bottle making sure it isn’t too hot for a baby, you gently put the spray into the ends of Eddie’s hair, gently working the spray up the length of his head to his scalp.

“Is the water okay?”

“Ow, holy shit!” Eddie yelps, his body flopping around like a fish out of water. You immediately turn the faucet the other way, apologizing profusely until you realize Eddie is shaking with laughter.

“Oh fuck, … you…” more laughing as he chokes out his words, “should have seen your face.” He mimics your face and bursts into a fit of giggles, you aren’t sure how long he would have kept it up if you didn’t put the hose directly into his face and throw a towel at him.

“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll wax your eyebrows.” You spit at him, letting out a small laugh.

Mumbling from under the towel is faint but you swear you hear the word bikini.

Eddie finished cleaning his face and lays his head back into the sink again, you don’t ask this time but immediately start wetting his hair. “So,” he says, closing his eyes, so water won’t get in them, “I think I figured out what is wrong with your car.”

“Oh really? Is it going to be an easy fix?”

Not wanting to admit to you that he was working on your car for free or that he would borrow as many tools as he had to to get your car fixed, he settles for a half truth.

“Shouldn’t be too bad, gotta get some parts ordered for it.”

You let out a groan, “oh God— how much are they?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I just said, don’t worry about it, now treat me like one of your clients and tell me all the hot gossip in your life.”

Taking three giant pumps from the white shampoo bottle in the cabinet, you gently massage it into his scalp. Letting the cool smooth pearlescent liquid suds up. His hair feels like brown ropes of silk in your hands. All the years of having your hands in someone else’s hair were nothing compared to the odd feeling of lightly working the suds into Eddie’s mane. Baby soft. Luxurious in ways that contradicted the metalhead image he wore so well like a coat of armor.

You weren’t the only one admiring the way his hair felt in your hands.

Eddie is fighting hard not to melt into a puddle right there in Josie’s salon. Your hands were like magic against his scalp, your nails lightly scratching small circles against his skull. He was sure he’d fall asleep if he kept his eyes closed for any longer. It was the closest thing he could compare to what heaven would be like. Hints of tropical coconut mixed with crushed pineapple filled the air. He didn’t even realize you were talking until he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of your mouth moving over him. Your face was concentrating on the story that you were telling, but it fell on deaf ears. He was in a trance. The scrape of your nails against his head was almost pornographic to him. The way your eyes were trained on the job at hand. The way your lips parted and moved as you told the story. The animated look in your eyes, sparkling with each slow blink, your eyelashes teasing him.

He had never noticed the features of your face before. Usually if he was this close you were staring up at him and pointing one of those glorious fingernails into his chest, yelling at him— eyebrows pulled in, your face set in a scowl. But now here you were, scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. Filling a void he wasn’t aware was missing. He could die right now and he wouldn’t even know it. It was almost orgasmic the way you were making him feel, all with just simply washing his hair.

He caught himself before you could notice it. He crossed his legs and willed himself to think of anything else. Shutting his eyes and imagining the least sexy thing he could think of. Not wanting to ruin the moment between you both and make you never want to trust him again because he had got an accidental semi while staring at you while you were wrist deep in shampoo, scrubbing his scalp like a woman in the 1800s washing clothes on a board in the creek bed.

Nobody had ever washed his hair before, that he could remember at least. He never wanted it to end.

“…but that’s crazy right? Like she’s a psycho!” The hazy fog of lust finally left Eddie’s mind, his other four senses returning. Looking at your face and seeing that you were hurt by the story you had explained, and ashamed that he wasn’t even listening, he agreed, not even knowing if he should.

“What a bitch.”

You giggled, smiling down at him. Finally realizing you had been scrubbing his hair for almost five minutes, lost in the story. A stupid distraction to force yourself away from the feeling of the silk length of his hair, the way it felt in your fingers. Not wanting to let it slip away. You gather it all in one hand and grab the hose with the other, starting at the crown of his forehead, you rinse the suds from his hair.

Bubbles circle the basin. Disappearing down the drain along with the same shared feelings of lust and yearning. Shoved down deep away from the surface, hidden beneath hardened surfaces, shielded away from the inner depths of the softening heart.

-

You ended up cutting half an inch from Eddie’s curls, careful to not lose yourself in his hair again, almost cutting yourself in the process. Hee watched with wide sad brown eyes with each snip. “It’s like I’m watching you cut parts of my soul away.”

You roll your eyes, “It’ll grow back, and when it does it’ll be healthier and longer.”

His bangs were the next to be trimmed, not even half an inch taken off. You place a leave-in conditioner spray to keep his curls soft and to help with the tangles. Knowing full well that Eddie didn’t even own a hair brush.

When you finish and are sweeping up his curls, Eddie stands shaking his head like a dog and running his fingers through it. “Alright, I’ll admit, it does feel better.”

-

Since the agreement was made for the band to practice every other day of the week in the garage, Eddie had been bringing you to work, and picking you up. On days the band wouldn’t be practicing, when he dropped you at home, he would leave immediately after, sometimes not showing up again until midnight. Coming home tired as all hell, and just like you had done weeks before, a Tupperware of food with instructions on how to warm it up taped to the lid, would be waiting for him in the fridge, each and every time.

There was no more yelling from you when the three members of Corroded Coffin showed up. There were also no more beer cans or greasy food wrappers on the ground either. Instead a trash can sat in the corner, and Eddie paid for pizza after you ordered it.

Actually the band was pretty good. You would never tell him that, that would simply go to his head. And with the ego he already had, he didn’t need another boost of confidence, leave that for the groupies. So every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday night the band got together, playing covers from their beloved 80’s metal Gods and sometimes original songs they would write. All of them thankful that you let them practice in the garage, Big D picking you up into a bear hug and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Jesus Christ, D, this is why the ladies run from you, you’re too aggressive, put her down!” Eddie barks. A pang of burning in his chest at the sight of you in someone else’s arms.

Big D sets you down and apologizes, “sorry Toots, and hey speaking of ladies, whatever happened with you and those hotter than hell twins?”

“Oh shit, Gareth hollered, “Fuck dude they were all over him, surprised he’s even able to walk with the way they were strung around him like cats in heat. You usually can’t wait to tell us about it, bragging until the next gig about it at least.”

“That’s cause he probably didn’t do shit, too chicken shit to handle them.”

Your stomach flips, so it wasn’t something you remembered wrong, there were two girls that Eddie had brought home that night. A strange feeling of angst washes over you, coating your mind with uncertainty mixed with inadequacy. Your cheeks warm, embarrassed by the way you are feeling. Excusing yourself to go order the pizza, you don’t see the way Eddie dismisses the guys, blowing them off with a “why don’t we keep our sexcapades to ourselves.” Or the way he throws a full beer at Big D.

-

After ordering the Corroded Coffin special, two large pepperonis, two large sweet and swine, and an extra large order of cheesy breadsticks— you go into the cupboard and bring out several bags of chips and five paper plates. Your favorite, sour cream and onion, and Eddie’s favorite, cool ranch Doritos. You let your mind wander. Thinking about him with those two girls. Realizing this is probably where he went at night after he dropped you off.

No need to feel like that when he was just your roommate, you shake the jealousy from your head. Just Eddie. Barely a friend. Yet he was still going out of his way to take you to work every day, till doing the chores you both shared. You let the silly feelings drop, carrying the chips and plates to the garage, shutting the door behind you. Pulling up your usual lawn chair, listen to the band play and finish painting your toenails.

When the boys end the song, they start again on the conversation they had started before playing, “dude I’m not dressing up as KISS again this year,” Jeff whines to Gareth “took me forever to get that white paint off my face. And don’t even get me started on the eyeliner.”

A spray of beer soaks the ground as Eddie spits it out, laughing hysterically about the memory of watching Jeff struggle lining his eyes like Paul Stanley. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “yeah I agree, I’m not painting your ugly mugs again this year, what else are you thinkin’?”

“We could all be different villains from scary movies. Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers’s, and Pinhead.” Big D suggests, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Nah, no chicks wanna fuck something scary. I don’t know about you— but I tried all of last Halloween to get some tail and no girl would even look my way with all that clown paint on.” Gareth huffs twirling his drum sticks in his fingers.

“What about you Tooty?” Eddie asks earnestly, “Do you and Robin go bar hoppin’ on Halloween or do you usually stay home like an old lady knitting sweaters and handing out black licorice and molding fruit?”

Making a face at him, you paint the last coat of polish on your toe nail. “Actually, Nancy and I usually throw a party. Costume contests, kegs, beer pong… we kinda go all out.”

Eddie picks his jaw up from the floor, scoffing, “no way— Nancy Wheeler and you, throwing a rager on Halloween? I don’t buy it.”

“Call Steve and ask him, he’s the reigning Cherry Lane Halloween costume contest winner for two years running.” You say with a smirk on your lips, stretching your legs and crossing them at your ankles, the pretty maroon polish catching the dim light in the garage. “You guys are more than welcome to come, obviously it’s on Halloween night, and the only stipulation is to bring a good costume, and $5 for the keg.”

Eddie moves his tongue over his teeth, twisting his body to look at his band mates, all three of them shrugging and nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be here,

“Yeah, if you think you’re up for it. Sure.” You say nonchalantly.

-

The smell of mildew and damp carpet currently being air dried with a fan stung your nose. The soggy basement and the crumbling foundation of Sally’s Secondhand in downtown Hawkins was a hidden gem and only open in the afternoons on Mondays and Wednesdays, but they had decent prices and good quality items when you were in a pinch if you could learn to breathe through your mouth for the time you were there.

“So how’s the roomie situation going?” Nancy asks, holding up a hand mixer with two mixing parts and a wooden handle labeled for .10¢. You had scored gold when you found a gently used, practically brand new waffle iron. It was wedged between two cook books for only $2. The same one Karen Wheeler had used on Sunday mornings. You were hunting for discounted Halloween decorations still not sure on what you were going to dress as and Halloween was this Saturday, Nancy was searching for spare camera parts for Jonathan and a toy cowboy hat for her costume that she wouldn’t tell you about.

Putting a masking taped bundle of forks into the blue plastic grocery basket, your forks magically kept disappearing everytime Eddie brought leftovers to work, you let out a sigh, “It’s going okay, better than it was in the beginning. He’s fixing my car up and I cut his hair a few weeks ago. I um.. also told him about Chad.”

Nancy stops dead in her tracks, blue eyes wide, her small mouth agape, “wh-what?!” Nancy was shocked at the news, you nonchalantly delivered like saying ‘fine’ when some asked how you were. She knew how frightening that situation was for you, it was scary for her too. Seeing someone she loved and cared about hurt in ways she couldn’t even fathom.

“We ran into him while getting groceries—like a month ago. I had a full blown panic attack, and Eddie, he helped me through it.” You go into detail explaining everything that had happened. Leaving out the part of you being comforted by Eddie and the gentle way his thick hands caressed you while you sobbed into him like a child who lost their cat.

Nancy's face goes from shock and softens into content, “wow, honestly didn’t think he had a caring bone in his body, he always seemed like such an asshole.”

“I mean he still is, don’t get me wrong— I don’t think he’s giving donations to the local churches or anything, but he seems a little more reserved, if you will,” you say, adding a floral embroidered set of towels for every day of the week to your basket.

“Hmm,” Nancy says with raised eyebrows, and nodding her head, a silent confirmation of approval. Always looking up to Nancy, almost as if she was your real life sister, you admired her. She was always put together, whether you were shopping during the week or at home, she was stylish in a way that said, I will run the world, and have dinner on the table at 6. Her white huarache sandals matched her high waisted pink pastel shorts and white button sleeveless blouse. Effortlessly stunning.

Moving along the aisles you and Nancy both finger through the clothing racks. Pulling out neon prints and a pair Madonna—esque white lace gloves, they probably belonged to that muppet singing idiot, Tammy Thompson. Chuckling at how fashion trends in high school were borderline ridiculous. a denim vest in your size with safety pins on each hem gave you an idea for your costume. Finding everything you needed you were ecstatic to put it all together.

The carpet squashed beneath your feet the further you got into the store. The back room held vhs’s, records, tapes, and books. The records were in a milk carton next to a shelf of adult themed books. The fading sharpie written sign reading “Adult fiction for Women 25 cents” posted bold along the top of the shelf. Nancy discreetly placed, “Thursday and the Lady” by Patricia Matthews into her basket, covering it with matching salt and pepper shakers, a crimson tinge to her rouged cheeks.

Diving into the records you flip them towards you as you lazily scan through them. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Thriller by Michael Jackson, Abbey Road by the Beatles, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, stuck to the back of it was a small single, Ode to Billie Joe by Bobbie Gentry. It had been years since you heard it, tucking it into your basket, Nancy clears her throat nervously, the blush evident in her cheeks, “I’m ready if you are.”

-

The Saturday of Halloween the salon was closed, giving you Robin and Steve plenty of time to decorate for the party tonight. Eddie was working but was scheduled to get off around 5, just in time to come home and get his secret costume on.

Orange pumpkin printed garbage bags filled with autumn foliage lined the streets of Cherry Lane. Toilet paper streamers were in Mr. Derry’s tree, a prank the seniors of Hawkins High did to him every year, including egging his front door. Vinyl witches hung from doorknobs. Plastic ghosts holding jack-o-lanterns littered lawns. Fake strings of cotton resembling cobwebs with bendy plastic spider thrown around like glitter, lay atop shrubs. Orange lights were wrapped around the trees in your front yard, flimsy ghosts made of white sheets were hung from the branches. It was a child’s Halloween paradise.

“Higher, no lower, well now you’re just doing it wrong.” Steve was in charge of Robin who was in charge of decorations. The beer pong tournament would be in the basement, every strand of Christmas lights you could find were lighting the ceiling, table set up and cups in place. The tournament bracket started with Mike and El playing against Jeff and his girlfriend Ash. The kegs would be delivered later. Buckets ready for ice sitting on the deck. Robin and Steve were still arguing over who had the better costume last year. Twisting black and orange streamers together and hanging them in the doorway to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you’re finishing up the Jell-O shots, small clear dishes full of cherry red jello made with everclear. A bitter threat to anyone brave enough to eat them. The spinach and artichoke dip is prepped in the fridge, along with 10 packages of crescent rolls, 5 packages of hotdogs, the fruit cut and ready to be put into Steve’s horrendous Jungle Juice that you would actively be avoiding. Nancy and Jonathan were bringing pinwheels and rotel dip. Dustin and Susie are in charge of bringing candy. It’s going to be a blast.

-

“Be right back,” Robin and Steve call out as they leave to go get their costumes. Putting the finishing touches on your costume your hand shakes with nervousness while swiping mascara on your lashes, the pre party jitters wracking your nerves. The ring of the doorbell startles you. The obnoxious ringing should be a dead giveaway but you don’t recognize it until the door is wide open and you’re face to face with Jesus Christ himself and three nuns. Or as you knew them, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Big D.

You aren’t sure whose mouth is hanging open more. Yours or Eddie’s. Eddie is wearing a long sleeved cream colored gown, complete with a crimson sash. His usual black leather boots on his feet and a crucifix in his hand.

Eddie is the first to laugh, hands held out like he’s blessing the house before he enters it. “Aww sweetheart, you really are my #1 fan aren’t you?”

You are dressed as the most annoying on the planet, pain in the ass, voted most perverted of all of Hawkins: Eddie. When shopping with Nancy you found the vest, adding a few hand sewn patches and the best replica of Eddie’s DIO patch on the back, even shoving a pack of reds into the pocket, it looked pretty good. A twin of the aforementioned jackass. Borrowing Nancy’s cheap leather jacket when she went as Sandy from Grease last year, and putting holes into a pair of jeans and washing them as many times as you could to fray the edges, it was perfect. Complete with a horrible curly wig that you thought was a life dog upon seeing it.

“I was going for scary and scary annoying,” you shrug, “think I nailed it.”

“As hilarious and surprisingly accurate your costume is, the real winner for the party is going to be us” He gestured to him and the nuns. “figured I’d go as something that everyone says I need more of and you recognize the boys right? They’re dressed as your friends from work.”

-

The kegs finally show up and Eddie blesses the delivery man before he leaves. Fully throwing himself into character. Dustin and Susie are the first to arrive, dressed as Mrs. Doubtfire and Sally Ride, the first woman astronaut to go into space.

Dustin laughs so hard he cries at your costume. “Oh my God please you have to say, ‘forced conformity, it’s what’s killing the kids!’ Please Tooty Holy shit!”

Mimicking Eddie perfectly you saunter away and scream about society and how good Metallica is.

“Oh haha, so funny Tooty,” Eddie pouts, holding a beer funnel in his hands, “come on Henderson let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

-

The backyard is sprayed with foamy beer as Dustin very much can not put his money where his mouth is. Gareth’s up next, chugging like a champion and doing a lap around the backyard like he won a trophy. Eddie and Jeff shotgun beer, Eddie winning by a mile. Laughing and putting his hands in a praying gesture to bless Jeff for his shortcomings.

The rest of the party goers show up, Nancy is dressed like Annie Oakley wielding a fake shotgun and a straw cowboy hat and a long brown dress with fringe hanging from the shoulders. Jonathan and his long haired friend Argyle arrive behind Nancy dressed as Sonny & Cher. Argyle had given up the fast moving life in California once a Surfer Boys pizza arrived in Hawkins. He delivered to the house so much during the nights that Corroded Coffin was practicing that he had your order prepped and ready to go by the time you had called it in. He’d show up so blitzed out of his mind that he’d forget he was at work, sharing his different strains of weed with all the Corroded Coffin boys.

Robin and Steve are in the kitchen, ladling jungle juice into empty cups. The duo dressed as Thelma and Louise, Robin wearing a black muscle shirt and sunglasses, and Steve wore a white tank top with a neckerchief. Both talking in horrible southern accents.

Eddie is standing next to Argyle in the living room both holding almost empty cups of the forbidden jungle juice, deep in conversation about something called Purple Palm Tree Delight, but knowing them, it had nothing to do with a lavender paradise. You reach around Eddie to grab a pinwheel, taking a bite when Argyle, clearly stoned, goes wide eyed leaning into Eddie his eyes still transfixed on you he whisper yells.

“Yo, I swear to God, I just saw two of you.”

“Argyle it’s me, Tooty.” You explain standing next in front of them trying not to laugh. “This is the real Eddie, I’m just dressed like him for Halloween.”

Argyle leans forward and whispers into your ear, “Yeah okay man that’s what the aliens would say before they clone us and take over.”

He leans back and takes two big steps backwards, eyes wide in a horrified daze, before disappearing down into the basement.

“Don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but that guy smokes way too much.” Eddie chuckles, downing the rest of his jungle juice and eating the fruit at the bottom of the cup.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn him watching with your own gut twisting as the sweet juices of strawberry slither down his chin and down the slope of his neck.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, smacking his lips, “I’m twenty six years old, I can handle my liquor.”

“Okay,” you reply, “just so you know, the fruit soaks up all the alcohol and Steve presoaks it all in everclear the night before. Last time he ate all the fruit he spent an hour in the bathroom crying about his love life or lack thereof. And besides, we have to play in the pong tournament in a half hour.”

“We?” Eddie asks, lips turned up and a slight blush to his cheeks, “I didn’t sign up for beer pong.” His dark eyes pour into yours.

Heat creeps up your neck as you reach for a Jell-O shot cracking the lid off and circling the dish with your finger before sucking it into your mouth.

“I signed you up,” you say, reaching for another Jell-O shot, “everyone had a partner but Argyle and Will, so I paired you with Argyle, and I’m with Will,” you slide your finger around the Jell-O dish and suck the cherry gelatin into your mouth, savoring the bitter bite to your tongue before you crush it between your teeth.

“You better bring your A game Munson,” you say, taking a step into him and poking him in the chest, “because I don’t lose.”

Eddie isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s making him feel this way or you but suddenly he can’t stop blushing, laying the charm on thicker than peanut butter, “oh really?” he asks intrigued, “Well babe, I don’t think you know this but I’m the Forest Hills Trailer Park Pong Champion for eight summers in a row, so technically,” he’s leaning forward now, whispering low to get his point across. Your breath hitches in your throat, you can feel the tickle of his lips against your ear, his hair is brushing against your face, the faint smell of motor oil stuck in his curls, “I never lose either.”

He pulls back and your eyes lock. The heat flooding your cheeks burn, the ache in your stomach travels south and pulses with want. You can’t deny it to yourself, even dressed as Jesus Christ, Eddie is the best looking guy you’ve laid eyes on, and you were melting at the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, a smirk placed on his lips as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the remnants of the horrific fruit juice. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the Jell-O shot dish you’re holding and sets it behind him on the table. The tension could be cut with a knife, thick and heavily hanging in the space between you both. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by El screaming for Mike to get to the backyard instead of puking in the kitchen sink. Her Alice in Wonderland wig askew on her head and holding Mike’s mad hatter hat between her hands.

Running to open the sliding door you get it open just in time for Mike to projectile vomit off the deck.

“Christ, what did he eat?” Eddie asks from behind you, “damn Mike you’re such a pussy!”

“His dumbass didn’t eat all day and when he got here he decided that Jell-O and fruit would be a good option.” El says, rubbing his back as he pukes again and again, “I don’t feel bad for you Mike!”

Wiping his mouth on his forest green jacket sleeve, he murmurs, “Babe, I’m fine, seriously, a few pieces of bread and I’ll be in tip top sh—“ puke splatters wetly against the grass again.

You grab El’s hand and squeeze, “let me know if you need anything, okay?” She nods and smiles sweetly.

“C’mon,” Eddie says behind you, “let’s go so I can kick your ass in beer pong.”

You turn your head, half facing him, “game on, Munson.”

-

The sharpie bracket on poster board continued moving forward thanks to Steve’s basketball knowledge. Jeff and Ash beat Mike and El, Nancy and Jonathan beat out Gareth and Big D in a very close came both opponents having one cup left. Steve and Robin were beat out in the first round by Dustin and Susie, something King Steve would never be living down. Nex on the bracket to play would be you and Will playing Argyle and Eddie. Honestly it should be a piece of cake, a walk in the park. Will wasn’t the most athletic but last year him and Jonathan got second place against you and Nancy so the odds were pretty high. One thing you were absolutely certain of was that you would not be losing to Jesus and Cher tonight.

The basement is packed with everyone besides the ill Mike and faithful El. Argyle and a pink lensed Will are in the corner smoking a fat blunt the sequin jacket he’s wearing sparkles through the haze of smoke and the catches the lights. You haven’t seen him since Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding. But he’s letting his hair grow out, finally letting the bowl cut Joyce insisted on him having all throughout middle school and high school go. Steve has Dustin in a headlock for teasing him about winning against Mr. Hawkins High basketball star of 1985.

“Ya know for once, I was actually good, like really good, Steve overthrew the last cup and it was game over once Susie got the ball. She’s strangely amazing at beer pong. Probably found the mathematical equation from the distance of the table and her elbow to the solo cups.” Robin rambles on, only stopping to get her breath. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all night. Killer costume by the way, if you can’t beat ‘em be ‘em right?”

Robin and her absolute no filter mouth, always make you laugh, linking your arm with hers, “I really like your and Steve’s take on best friends driving off a cliff together to evade police.”

“JESUS CHRIST!” someone yells from upstairs.

Not missing a beat, Eddie can be heard returning the exclamation. “You rang?”

Rolling your eyes and looking his way, you laugh when you see him, holding up his arms in praise.

Robin’s voice bringing you back to the conversation, “Epic right? Steve thought we could be conjoined twins but then decided against it when he figured there was a small chance he could possibly get lucky tonight when that black haired girl at his job kept hinting that she wanted a date with him.”

“What!” you shout, “He never told me this!”

Robin rolls her eyes and takes another drink from her too foamy beer, “he’s nervous, I think he really likes her but doesn’t wanna fuck it up like he does everything else.”

Steve deserved to be happy and to have someone love him. He was always making sure everyone else was okay, you smile at the thought of him with a girlfriend.

“So,” Robin presses, wiggling her eyebrows, “Eddie looks good tonight,” a wicked smile dances wildly on her lips.

“I’m not at all buzzed enough to have this conversation,” you say, taking a peak at Eddie through your eyelashes, he was laughing loudly at something Steve had said, head thrown back, exposing his neck.

Will joins your side, reeking of weed and heavy musk cologne. “Tooty!” He squeals, wrapping you into a tight hug, “the house looks so fucking good I can’t believe it, also I heard that you’re living with Eddie? I’m going to need all the details!”

“It’s so good to see you, look at your hair!” You say holding his arms. Will threads a hand through his hair and laughs a little.

“Thanks, it’s new but it’s kinda growing on me, now, spill it. Tell me everything.”

“Next game!” Nancy announces, advancing her and Jonathan to the next bracket. “Argyle/ Eddie vs Tooty/ Will.”

Will grabs your hand and drags you to the beer pong table, “after?” He asks and you nod your head.

Eddie and Argyle are standing on one end, you and Will on the other. The cups are arranged into a triangle and filled with the warming pitcher of keg beer.

“You ready to go down groveling, sweetheart?” Eddie sings from across the table, eyes squinting when he leans on the edge of the table smiling at you.

Your stomach flutters, taking a long swig of Will’s jungle juice, staring Eddie down as you gulp the vile liquor and fruit punch combo down, “You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?”

-

“Woo! That’s balls back ba-by,” you sneer, hooting and hollering as Eddie begrudgingly tosses the balls back your way. It was almost as if Argyle and Will weren’t even there, this game was between you and Eddie. You were definitely buzzed, between the warm beer and the Jell-O shots you had eaten you were feeling good.

When you miss the first cup, Eddie makes devil horns at you and howls at the moon like an idiot. You sink the next cup, earning a high-five from Will, and a sly grin from Eddie as he removes the cup and chugs the warm beer. He’s secretly excited that you’re so happy, letting loose, in your element, surrounded by your loving friends. You glowing with a sense of freedom. In that moment when your eyes caught his, he knew he was in trouble, you were wrapped around his finger and he didn’t think of hardly anything else, but you, your beautiful smile, the way your hair caught each light you were under. He was in deep, and for right now, he was perfectly and utterly okay with that.

It’s Argyle’s turn and he surprisingly sinks both cups, being awarded with balls back, as you and Will each take a cup and drink the suds down. Trying to distract him, you whip off your Eddie- esque wig and toss it towards Eddie, shaking your hair out like a wild woman.

Unphased by your antics he does it again and you groan. Four in a row? This guy was half asleep the entire game and all of a sudden he’s an athlete? They only have 1 cup left. Tension rises and the room goes to silence at Steve’s request. Argyle sinks it. Eddie erupts into cheers grabbing Argyle by the shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Redemption attempt!” Steve shouts, giving Will the ball. Will takes it with nervous fingers, blowing the ball to dry it slightly as you chug the last cup. He only has two cups to make. Will tosses the ball and the room goes silent, it feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s the alcohol. The ball soars through the air, bouncing against the rim of the cup lapping up the foamy beer, before it falls off and teeters off onto the table.

Argyle raises both hands in the air, “VICTORY!” the room erupts with cheers. Will apologizes profusely but you hug him tight, telling him you were happy he was your partner.

“Next game is Jonathan/Nancy vs Jeff/ Ash starting in 20 mins!” Steve hollers. The basement clears out as people go upstairs to use the bathroom and refill their drinks.

You expect Eddie to be gloating, cocky beyond belief. But he’s the opposite, coming up to you slowly, head bowed, upper teeth practically biting his lower lip in half.

“Good game sweetheart,” he says barely above a whisper, “not gonna lie, I really thought you guys were gonna win.”

Holding your chin high, face only inches from his, the brown pools of colored whiskey stare into your eyes. Placing a hand on his chest, the alcohol gives you enough of a push to cross the line. The thin gauzy material of the gown he’s wearing is sticky with sweat and warm from the heat radiating from his body. “Told myself I wouldn’t lose to Cher and Jesus tonight.”

Eddie let’s out a throaty laugh, “can’t believe he pulled that off, he didn’t make a cup all game.”

“Guess you get to continue wearing that tarnished crown, speaking of wardrobe… where the hell did you get this outfit?”

“You know that church across from the police station?”

“The one with the Jesus statue inside?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and gives you a knowing glance, waiting for you to catch on.

“No way! Eddie! You broke into a church and stole an outfit off of a statue?”

“Amen,” Eddie says roaring with laughter, “ahh c’mon you can’t tell me it wasn’t a genius idea.”

Rolling your eyes, “I wouldn’t exactly call it genius, but funny? Yes.”

He laughs again, “not everyday I get a compliment from myself,” he says eyeing your costume, “you do make a pretty cute Eddie Munson if I say so myself.” he wasn’t even thinking anything of it, just blurted it right out.

Flirting came easy to him almost as a second nature, he was never nervous around women, usually finding the game of sex not just something he was good at but conquered with ease. But this, here, with you? Was a slippery slope. A different game for him entirely. He was a pawn amongst you and you were the queen, striking down whoever came near, holding all the power.

Your cheeks heat from his compliment, blood rushing through your body and warming your skin, he holds your hand to your chest, stroking your fingers with his thumbs.

A thousand bolts of lightening ignite you, he smells like smoke, ashy and burning, the cheap keg beer on his breath as he smiles softly at you.

“Tooty!” Steve calls from the top step, clinging onto it for dear life, “are you down there?!”

You’re the first one to break away, pulling your hand from his grasp, threading them together at the last minute, finger tips clinging to each other like velcro. The flames between you both extinguished fast, no oxygen left in the room to keep it going.

Getting to the bottom step and turning, you give him one last glance and a small smile, before trotting up the stairs to Steve.

-

Eddie opens the patio door to find Gareth and Big D blowing smoke into the sky and talking about the best DIO song.

“Shit man, where have you been? Didn’t your game end like 15 minutes ago?”

Eddie thinks of a lie quick, “Taking a piss why you wanna watch?”

“That’s weird,” Big D questions, “cause Gareth just came out of the bathroom unless there’s a magic bathroom you haven’t told us about.”

“What are you guardian of the toilet?” Eddie says slotting a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his zippo open.

“I mean he’s got a point,” Gareth interjects, “where have you been tonight, turning water into wine? Or are you healing the blind?”

“Cool it, Whoopi,” Eddie bites, “the fuck does it matter where I was or wasn’t?”

“You’ve changed dude. Used to be a ladies man, different chick every night. Smoking and drinking all night watching the sunrise. Fuck man you were hell on wheels. Then all of a sudden you move in here and you’re acting like the Pope, fixing up her car off the clock, bringing her to and from work, you’re like her fucking babysitter.” Gareth exclaims.

“Fuck off man, she’s Eyeball’s sister, and I’m just looking out for her.” Eddie grits through his teeth.

“Or,” Big D suggests, “you like her, I mean you still haven’t even told us about the twins— and you stare at her like she’s about to combust at any moment.”

“Yeah and what do you two know about anything?” Eddie spits.

“Clearly not shit, but you’re all fucking riled up about a girl you don’t like.” Gareth flicks his cigarette and goes inside, Big D following.

The door opens again, “listen man, I’m not in the mood for your stupid fucking advice.” Eddie groans, turning to see Steve standing at the door, an empty pitcher in his hand. “Shit, sorry, thought you were Gareth.”

“Nope kept my habit at home,” Steve says with a chuckle, setting the pitcher on the edge of the deck, “nice party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “ya know when Tooty first told me that her and Nancy threw a party every year I didn’t believe it, turns out I was wrong about her, seems to be a theme of mine lately.”

“She doesn’t let a lot of people in, but once you’re here, it means she trusts you, respects you.” Steve explains.

Eddie smiles softly, ashing his cigarette.

“She cares about you, ya know? She might not want to admit it— may even be scared to admit it to herself, but she likes you.”

Eddie gives him a look. Sure you were nicer to him, not threatening to kick him out anymore. You had let the band practice in the garage, even staying out there to hear them play. But that didn’t mean anything did it?

“How many times do you think she’s cut my hair?” Steve inquires, leaning next to the railing on the deck beside Eddie.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly, “a dozen?”

Steve chuckles, “Never, not once, never even offered. You think she made elaborate meals for Nancy when they lived together? Wrong— she barely touched the stove. You move in and she’s changed, for the better. It’s like she’s coming back to life, and the only common thing in that equation, is you.”

Eddie mulls this over, could Steve be right? “I don’t know man.”

“I may not be Mr. Relationship but I do know Tooty, and you’ve softened her edges. Tamed that frightful girl we all love and adore. She’s got walls up, keeping people out, but not around you, not anymore.”

Eddie hangs his head, his heart bursting with sad euphoric bliss. He couldn’t go about this like any other conquest. And with you it would never be how it was with the other women. Faceless broads in mini skirts, praising him, doing whatever he wanted them to. He never saw you in that way. Holding you on a pedestal about the rest. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. One too many times of being cheated on was enough for him. But you were hurt too, more so than he was. He was still licking his wounds with anything willing and able. You? You were a shell of yourself. He couldn’t act on this like he would with anyone else. He cared about you too damn much to make you feel like you couldn’t trust him again.

“And I know you care about her. Everytime I look at you you’re staring at her like a sad little puppy.”

Eddie looks up then, looking at Steve like he held all the answers to life’s questions. He turns and leans against the deck, elbows on the railing just how Steve was facing the house.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do care about her, more than anything. So what do I do?” He asks Steve.

Steve shrugs, letting out a loud sigh, “keep doing what you’re doing, she knows you care about her, just don’t disappear on her.”

Eddie turns his head from Steve and catches sight of you through the patio doors. He can see you taking a Jell-O shot with El, Robin and Nancy. A sleeping lump of clothes on the kitchen table with black hair must be Mike. You light up the room as you laugh when Robin makes a repulsive expression after taking her Jell-O shot. He can’t hear your full laugh, it’s faint through the glass. But, he doesn’t need to hear it to know the sound—having heard it more and more the last few weeks, the way you throw your head back when something is really funny, sometimes covering your mouth. He’s certain he’s never seen anyone more angelic in his life. Like you have sucked all the air from the room, even dressed in a sheer mockery of him, you’re radiating a glow that makes his heart swell. He has never cared about anyone the way that he does for you.

Seeing him through the doors standing next to Steve, he has a smirk on his face. A sudden rush of shyness creeps up your neck and you turn away from him, but you reciprocate his actions, smiling at him. A small gesture that melts him on the spot.

Eyes trained on you but still talking to Steve, Eddie beams, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A/n: see you in volume vii

Hope you all enjoyed this. There were some little hidden Easter eggs in this chapter, go to my askbox if you found them 💕

readmore eat my ass or this line you decide, whore.

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#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson smut

[bakubunny]

comfort sex: katsuki

a/n: here’s a little smth i had sitting in my drafts from a long time ago. i don’t see myself finishing it as a full one shot, so enjoy.

You walked into your boyfriend’s apartment and hardly shucked your hero gear off at the door before you went straight to him. “Come here. I need you. Now.”

Katsuki was sitting in the dining room as though he was expecting you, though his expression said he wasn’t expecting you to pull him away from his laptop and in for a firm, needy kiss.

“Yeah? What do you need, babygirl?” he asked.

“Fuck me,” you said, going back in for another kiss.

He smirked a little, but prodded. “Say more.”

You looked him in the eye. “Fuck me like you hate me. Pull my hair. Spit on my face. Slap me. Choke me. Make me cry. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop until I’m useless and fucked too dumb to speak.”

Katsuki paused. He may not be the greatest at reading emotions, but even he could see something wasn’t right.

“No,” he said firmly.

“What? Why?” You pull back from him some, but he had a tight grasp around your waist.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Katsuki said.

“Nothing,” you said. “I need you, that’s it.”

The hard look on Katsuki’s face told you he wasn’t going to budge. He turned away to close his laptop and put away his casework for the evening.

“Come on. I told you what I need. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Frazzled feelings met frustration welling in your chest. Katsuki was always telling you to “speak up” and “ask for what you want.” What the hell was this?

“Stop.”

“Stop what? Stop asking you to fuck me?” you asked. “Do I need to beg, too?”

Katsuki grabbed you hard by the face and forced your frantic gaze to connect with his stare. “Princess, I will gladly fuck the shit out of you after you calm the fuck down and tell me what’s going on. Breathe.” 

You took a few deep breaths. A lump began to build in your throat; you swallowed hard and pushed it down. “Okay, so I had a horrible day at work. Really horrible.”

“I know. I saw the news,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about it. That’s not why I’m here.” Your throat burned and your cheeks grew warm.

“That’s fine, but I’m not going to let you use me to punish yourself,” Katsuki replied, a thread of tenderness in his eyes.

“I-I’m not. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I just don’t want to think right now and-”

Katsuki kissed you. “Then stop fucking talking. Go,” he said, pointing down the hall towards his bedroom. 

Once the door closed behind him he pushed you into the wall. He pulled your face to his with both hands and kissed you deeply - hard and fast and all you could think about was how his tongue felt against yours. Katsuki’s hands ran down your body as you kissed. He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips began to push into yours and you moaned into his mouth, grinding back onto his rapidly growing cock. 

After a few minutes he carried you to his bed and, piece by piece, clothing fell to the floor. Every movement was forceful and needy; he needed to know you were safe in his arms as much as you needed his reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Katsuki didn’t give you the hate fuck you asked for because in the end, that’s not what you needed. Instead, he gave you himself; rough, loving, and tender all made up into the person you needed most.

gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @mhadabiandhawks4eva @aria-chikage @gold24fish @yazminetrahan @doumadono

if you’d like to be added to my tag list or you somehow got missed, let me know. ♡

#aged up characters #i firmly believe he’d be like this ngl #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki #x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakubunny

[borathae]

"You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: pussy wetting porn, soft & hard Dom!Taehyung, whiney sub!Reader, she's a tease in the beginning, until he shows her what a real tease looks like, he kneels and kisses her feet in gratefulness, period sex, lotsa blood, he licks it from her pussy, and does some other kinky shit with it but it's a surprise besties, sloppy oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, gentle pussy fisting bitches, rough sex in multiple positions and locations (including his bed, the window, atop a dresser, his atelier), dirty talk, praise, good girl kink, degradation (he calls her his greedy slut), sexy possessiveness, Sir kink, huge vampire dicks, fangs, nipple play, marking, scratching (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), strength kink, he's unhinged and feral, multiple intense orgasms for her, overstimulation, she's a lil masochist <3, Tae uses her pussy as his personal fleshlight, creampies, she subdrops but he reassures her, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky!!

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i need to be restrained and put in a cage. cue brittany brosky's voice i am gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure 😶

You know where to find your darling. It is a rainy night and the air is chilly enough to make staying inside wonderful. There is only one place in the estate where Taehyung loves to be during those times. His atelier, painting and drawing away. The doors to it are open, the faintest of jazz music enters the corridors. He is painting. Just as you had figured. You know him so well.

You enter his atelier with a faint knock on his door.

“Tae darling?”

“Yes, my darling?” Taehyung asks with his full attention on you instantly. He even places his paint brush aside without breaking his eyes away from you for even a millisecond. He sniffles as if he noticed something, but stays quiet otherwise. His eyes scan you from head to toe and yet he still doesn’t say anything.

You close the distance between you and him. 

“I got my period today.” 

“I knew that I smelled something on you. Oh my darling, do not worry. I can get you everything you need”, he says and stands up to hurry to you, “just make me a list and I will drive to the store right away, unless you need a massage or hugs. Oh, I can give you everything.”

“You’re so sweet”, you say, “but I don’t need any of those things.”

“Yes? Then I shall keep my distance and talk only when necessary.”

“No, not that either.”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Tae, I’m not wearing protection right now and it’s leaking into my panties.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows, “...yes? I…shall I buy you new sanitary products?”

“No, you,” you chuckle.

Taehyung chuckles as well eventhough he is very clearly confused. 

“Help me clean myself, Tae.”

“Oh, of course! Oh darling, why didn’t you say so sooner? Come, I shall run you a hot shower and scrub your back”, he says and takes your hand to walk off. 

You however pull him back, using the momentum to twirl him.

Taehyung laughs and falls into you.

“Darling, don’t do that.”

You fix him so he was facing you again.

“You didn’t understand me.”

“Okay?”

“Kneel, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel for me.”

Taehyung falls to his knees as if it was instinct. He even places his hands in the proper position, looking up at you with questioning puppy eyes.

“I don’t seem to understand”, he confesses.

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you tell him and step closer. 

The sweet scent of your bleeding, warm pussy overtakes his senses. He tries not to, but still looks at your middle. You are wearing nothing more than an oversized cashmere cardigan and a pair of cotton panties. They are white, but soaked in blood. He feels his senses blur. You look and smell temptatious.

“Darling”, Taehyung croaks, pressing his legs together, “you are torturing me. I can smell but you.”

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you repeat your order and something seems to click in Taehyung’s brain

His head snaps up, his face is fallen in shock.

“What, what do you mean? What does this mean? What?” he stutters, blinking rapidly. 

You smile tauntingly, “you heard me. I’m messy and need you to clean me.” 

“But darling. Darling, you are covered in blood”, Taehyung is salivating as he speaks. His fangs are glistening in the lights. He is so consumed by your scent, aching to bury his face in your sweet heaven and yet he seems so perfectly in control.

“I know and I need a vampire to clean it.”

“___”, Taehyung presses out, “are you certain? What about Yoongi? I do not want him to think that I am feeding from you again. I don’t want to cause a fight.”

“Yoongi cleaned me too.”

“Pardon?” this confession is the most shocking to Taehyung. Obviously.

“Yeah”, you giggle, “do you remember last month? When I didn’t leave Yoongi’s wing for days?”

“Yes.”

“That was when I accidentally started my period in his bed and he ate me out like an animal.”

"Now this is", Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you are having a jest with me.”

You shake your head, continuing your story.

“He proceeded to keep me captive for the rest of my period to literally take me in far too many ways and positions and rooms and…yeah. Phew.”

“You are telling the truth?!”

“Yes. Of course I am”, you say and snicker at Taehyung’s shocked expression.

“Darling, I am flabbergasted. Yoongi drank your blood?” 

“He didn’t drink my blood. He ate my pussy, which just so happened to be bleeding, but that’s beside the point. He knows that I’m here and what I want to do with you. He doesn’t mind.” 

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?” 

“Yes Tae, I’m certain. You’re the only one who can clean me right now.”

"Are, are you truly certain?"

"Every second wasted with talking means my panties are getting messier and messier", you say and lift your cardigan just slightly to reveal more of you to him.

Taehyung looks at it and crumbles.

“Darling you”, he touches your calves, looking up at you with devoted, starstruck eyes, “I exist to worship you. Every waking second should be spend being your greatest admirer. I-” 

He stops talking to instead bow down in front of you. Not only that, but to also kiss your feet. Every inch of them. Toe by toe and instep by instep. He kisses your feet as shaky mutters of “thank you” and “oh, how I am devoted to you” interrupt his needy sounds of admiration.

You let it happen with a racing heart. He looks so good worshiping your feet. 

“My goddess”, he says, hugging your legs and burying his nose deep in your middle. He inhales deeply, letting out a guttural moan, “oh my beautiful, bleeding goddess. I am delirious from your scent”, his voice is muffled from your body. 

You giggle, ruffling his hair. 

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy. I ache for your taste day by day. Oh my sweetest, you smell so wonderful.”

He tilts his head up, still hugging your legs. His eyes are ruby, his cheeks covered in black veins. You caress them, ending it by tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re such a darling”, you speak softly, giving him a fond smile.

Taehyung buries his nose back in you, inhaling as much of you as his lungs allow him.

“Oh darling”, he moans as he exhales, shuddering uncontrollably, “how I want you.”

“You can have me. You know?”

“I know, oh I know”, he says and stands up, “I shall not take you here”, he says, sweeping you off your feet bridal style.

You squeal and giggle, falling around his neck for support. You don’t feel scared at all. He is your strong darling after all. Your weight feels like nothing to a vampire like him. He carries you with ease, basking in your giggles as you willingly let him kidnap you.

The journey ends in his bedroom. He places you atop his king sized bed, giving you no time to get used to the solace as he claims the space above you. Your cardigan got messed up from the movement, having slipped off one of your shoulders to reveal your skin to him.

Taehyung lowers his lips to your shoulder instantly, kissing your every inch from the very top of your shoulder down to where your collarbone blends into your sternum. His hands are on each side of your head, his knees are caging in your hips and yet he puts no weight on your lap. The distance aches. To have his weight so close, his touch even closer and not to receive it makes you restless. You squirm on the sheets, reaching up just to grasp his wrists.

“Patience”, Taehyung guides his lips to the shell of your ear just so he can seduce you with his sultry whispers, “I like to take my time with an exquisite meal.”

Being known so well by him makes you squirm once more. All you needed to do was to touch his wrists and he knew what you were craving most.

“I’m getting everything messy”, you sigh in hopes of warming his heart. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, kissing a path along your face until he reaches the other side of your neck to worship.

“This is the fun part”, he rasps and shakes his right hand free from your weak grasp to instead run it down your body.

You writhe into the touch, shivering intensely when he slips it under your cardigan to palm at your skin. Just for a few seconds and without ever touching your breasts, then he already slips it out again to dance it to your hip.

“The savouring you is the best part, my darling”, he teases, playing with the hem of your panties, “it gets you so wet”, you can feel his smirk against your skin, hear it in his voice, “and messy”, he adds, kissing the spot where your pulse races like crazy in your neck.

“Tae”, you mewl, arching into him.

This isn’t what you expected when you came to him for aid. You expected him to lose composure like Yoongi did. You expected him to take you and pin you, giving you no chance to escape as he selfishly takes what is his’. You wanted him to be the one panting and gasping as control slipped from his fingers with each lick and yet he is having you in a tight grip. He is in perfect control while you feel dizzy in desperation.

You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were.

“Darling, you are squirming so much”, Taehyung rasps, holding your hips down with gentle strength, “what’s the matter? Am I rushing you?”

“No”, you mewl, shaking your head.

“No?”

You shake your head more vigorously, wiggling your hips under his grip.

“Look at you trying to squirm”, he taunts, “don’t tell me that you believed me to lose control like Yoongi did, mhm?”

You mewl from being so exposed. It should embarrass you, but it only makes you crave him more. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, guiding his long fingers to your tummy just to play with your panties there.

“You should know me better by now”, he rasps, slipping his fingers inside just to toy with your pubes. He is obsessed with them, twirling and tugging on them gently to truly rile you up.

“Tae, please”, you try begging, making him smirk against your neck. 

He retreats his touch, drawing circles into the softness of your stomach. You want him so bad. 

“Open your cardigan for me.”

You obey even before he finishes his sentence. There are three buttons keeping you modest. You open them as quickly as possible, tugging the cardigan open to expose yourself to him. You slip it off your arms, letting it lay under you as you can’t be bothered to remove it completely. 

“Good girl”, Taehyung praises and sits up. He is kneeling, but still doesn’t put his weight on your lap. This is for show. To make you aware that he doesn’t need his weight to keep you pinned for him. His presence is enough to make you obedient.

Taehyung runs his eyes over your body, keeping his hands rested on his own thighs. The fabric of his linen pants stretches around them, bulging at his cock. He is hard. At least this he can’t hide from you. Even if he pretends to be in perfect control otherwise, at least his cock shows how much you affect him.

“Mhm”, he purrs, “beautiful.”

He looks at your panties. They are red in blood. His eyes flicker ruby. Finally another reaction. You part your legs upon seeing it, aching for him to act.

“How much do you treasure these undergarments?” he asks.

“They’re old and a little uncomfy”, you tell him.

“Good. Then I am sure you don’t mind if I do this”, he says and slips his fingers under the hem of them. He picks up a piece of them and looks at you, “may I?”

“Yeah…please.”

“So eager”, he chuckles and begins ripping the fabric, going carefully and slowly. It takes everything inside you not to squirm and beg him for more. Taehyung rips your panties at the other side as well, going just as slow and careful. It is as if he was opening a present or unwrapping a piece of candy. He does it with such a light-heartedness while you feel like shivering in desperation.

You lift your hips the second he managed to rip your panties apart. Taehyung chuckles and tugs the ruined fabric away.

“So eager”, he says, lifting your panties into his field of vision. He inspects them, parting his lips to show off his fangs. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his ruby eyes flit to you, “this is your last chance to stop this, darling.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” you insist loudly, “please Tae, don’t tease me anymore.”

He chuckles, “you’re such a delight, my darling”, he says and places your panties aside. He climbs off your lap, placing his hands on your thighs to push them apart. Not that he has to do a lot of work. The second he touched your thighs, you opened your legs for him. He meets your desperate eyes, giving you a knowing smile.

“So eager”, he speaks softly and sickeningly sweet. Oh, the things he manages to do with nothing but his voice.

“Please Tae, I’m messy.”

“Mhm, not messy enough”, he says and connects two of his fingers with your aching heat. 

“Ah”, you gasp, chasing the touch the second you received it. It feels so good. His fingers are so careful and his skin so soft. You needed his touch so incredibly much.

“So wet”, Taehyung whispers, dragging his fingers through your folds in a slow massage, “look at it covering your every inch. Darling, I crave you.”

He leaves out your clit on purpose, riling you up each time he swerves past it.

“More”, you try in hopes of persuading him, chasing his gentle touch.

“May I feel you inside?”

“Yes”, you exhale shakily, “yes please, Tae.” 

“Thank you so much”, he says and lets two of his fingers disappear inside you. You gasp and arch your back. They slip in so easily, fill you up so much. Taehyung watches your face for reactions and when he sees that no sign of discomfort crinkle it, he finally looks at your reddened cunt. Truly, how messy you are. It looks like the most delicious meal to Taehyung, forcing him to gulp heavily from all the saliva gathering in his mouth. He moves his hand, fingering your soft walls with gentle precision.

“Tae…” you sigh, letting your legs fall open. His fingers are so long, touching just where it feels the best.

“You feel wonderful, my darling”, he praises, curling his fingers, “you feel so tender inside. Tell me, are my fingers comfortable?”

“Yes”, you sigh, nodding your head vigorously.

“Oh, you feel so much more tender than on other days”, he whispers and slips another finger inside.

“A-ah”, your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers twist the sheets. To be so filled with Taehyung will never lose its spark.

“Breathe, my darling. You are tightening”, he orders you, soothing the stretch by drawing circles on your clit with his thumb. You are so wet from your period that the touch comes easy.

You inhale shakily, exhale in a tremble. You can’t control your walls from clenching, not when he makes you feel so good. You need to feel him as close as possible, so clenching comes natural to you.

“There we go. I need you to relax, otherwise I can’t prepare you for my length”, he speaks sweetly, soothing your trembles with gentle rubs to your lower stomach, “you are doing so well already.”

“Oh god…Tae”, you press out, rolling your head to the side in weakness. Being praised by him will always ruin you. You roll your hips up into his touch, moaning his name because this is all you can think of right now. Taehyung and only Taehyung.

He rewards your eagerness with yet another finger. He watches with deep red eyes as his pinkie finger slips into your wet cunt, how you welcome him and how you fit so perfectly around him.

“Four fingers darling, you are taking four of my fingers”, he rasps, keeping them still inside you to get you used to the stretch. He knows that it can be overwhelming and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Yet.

“Tae ple-please”, you get out in a shaky breath, reaching down to squeeze the hand he keeps on your stomach. You hold it with both hands, squeezing it so terribly much.

“Hurts?” he makes sure, caressing your skin.

You shake your head vigorously, grinding into his touch. His fingers slip deeper. Taehyung feels how your walls throb around his digits, tensing his own thighs as his every fiber tells him to ruin you. If you think that he wasn’t affected by all of this, you were wrong. It takes every ounce of self-control for Taehyung to stay as calm as he pretends to be right now. There are voices in his head. Distorted, tempting voices telling him to devour you, to use the advantages his curse gives him and take you as his sweetest meal.

But Taehyung has a plan. He wants this meal to be as perfect as possible. He wants you to think about it during random times of your day and feel so utterly affected by it that you falter in whatever you were doing a few moments ago, perhaps you even gasp for air and trace the spots he touched as you tried to relive the memory.

Taehyung needs to ignore the voices for the sake of the perfect feed. There is no other way.

You thrust your hips again, pulsating around his hand as your cunt swallows it hungrily. How wet you are inside, how warm and soft. Taehyung can touch your cervix this way, forcing you to keep still by pressing down on your tummy again. You squeeze his hand, whimpering his name while your hips give up without a fight.

“Stay still, don’t disobey”, he orders, pulling his fingers out just a little in order to give your tender cervix a break, “if you keep wiggling, it will hurt.”

“But it, it feels so good”, you get out and whimper, scratching at his hand gently as you try to grasp more, “Sir feels so good.”

Taehyung groans, furrowing his brows. Ruin her. The voices tempt him. Take her and break her. They taunt him.

“Darling”, he presses out through gritted fangs, “fuck, you make me act up”, he spits and gives into his desires.

He pins you down with his weight, wrapping his blood-soiled hand around your throat to press down on your veins.

Dizziness claims your brain instantly, a squeaky gasp leaves your lips. You meet his gaze, meeting desperate craze in it. His pupils are so blown-out that they almost swallow the red, the black veins pulsate on his cheeks. He is breathing heavily and shakily, doing so in deep, desperate breaths.

“How dare you call me such titles. Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he is growling his words with a hint of demonic raspiness in his voice. He tilts your head up with a tight grip on your throat, “what I want to do to you when you talk like this?”

“Sir”, you choke out, grasping his strong lower arm. It feels so good to be choked. It finally feels as if you are breaking his composure. You couldn’t escape his grasp even if you tried as hard as you can, but you aren’t scared. You are so entirely happy to be here.

Taehyung’s features darken, his unoccupied hand grasps your hands and guides them down your body. He lodges them between your waist and his thighs, turning you unable to move them. You can’t even wiggle them, let alone change their position. He is so strong and you are utterly at his mercy.

“Stop calling me this”, he hisses and slams his hand into the pillow beside your head. He moves in closer, breathing deeply. He shudders and growls. His blood-soiled hand covered your entire neck in blood, tempting him to taste you. He moves in closer, rolling your head to the side to reveal your vulnerable neck to his lips. He inhales again, moaning deliciously.

Your heart is racing. The grip around your neck lessened, but you still feel dizzy.

“How I need you”, he gets out and moves in. His bloodied fingers leave your neck, his dripping tongue replaces them. You tense up and moan, feeling burning electricity shoot through your veins.

Taehyung moans and presses himself closer, feasting on your neck as if it was the first meal he ever tasted. He missed this so much that he almost starts crying. And to have it taste like your sweet cunt as well, oh Taehyung has to reach up and grab the edge of the pillow, caring rather little about soiling it with blood. He pins you deep into the mattress, increases the pressure on your arms. You shouldn’t escape him. Not when he finally has the taste of your blood under his tongue. By the time, he has finished cleaning one side, your flesh is bruised and sensitive. He didn’t bite you, even if his fangs kept gracing your skin, but the sensitivity is still intense.

“You are my downfall”, he is panting, fixing your head so your other side was exposed, “I want to ruin you”, he adds and latches himself onto your tender neck.

“Sir”, you whimper, lying completely still even if you want to writhe and squirm and arch your back. It feels so good. His mouth is so much hotter than on normal days.

Taehyung worships your neck almost every time you and he are intimate. You know how good it feels, but this feels different. This kind of worship, you always received when the taste of your blood was involved and you forgot how much better it feels. His mouth is burning, his tongue so wet and eager, his sucks are inhumanly desperate and his fangs keep tickling your skin. You feel so dizzy, whimpering his title because this is all you can do.

“Oh darling”, he chokes out shakily, abandoning your cleaned and sensitive neck to lick down your body. He releases your arms this way, but you are too weakened to move them.

Taehyung changes your positions as he eagerly explores the paths down to your cunt. He reaches just about under your ribcage when everything is taking too long for him and he uses his powers. His arms grip your legs, using the leverage to turn you on the mattress so you are facing the side of his bed. He proceeds to tug you to the edge of it, falling to his knees before you as his arms pull your hips off the sheets and he can bury his face in your bloodied cunt. This is the only position which allows him to suffocate himself with you and it is also the only way he can truly make sure that you can’t flee. With his arms having an iron grip around your thighs and his hands digging deep into the softness of you, he has you where he wants you. Spread open and cunt on top his face.

He growls deeply, shutting off his better senses as your sweetened taste claims his tongue.

“Tae”, you moan, arching your back even if it is hard to do so in the current position, “ah! Oh god! What t-the hell? Ah!”

The thing about Taehyung’s nose? It is beautiful, ethereal, sculpted by the heavens and goddamn fucking perfect to grind against a sensitive pussy. And the thing about Taehyung? He is crazy enough to do it. Even if this gets his face messy and bloody, even if it means that your scent makes his eyes water from the intensity of it and even if you reach down and pull his hair. You pull so hard, so desperately and it does nothing. Taehyung fucks your sensitive pussy with his nose as deep growls vibrate against it. And while he grinds his perfect nose against your throbbing clit, his dripping tongue fucks your hole at inhuman speeds. He needs to get everything. Every single droplet of your taste. He is delirious from the sweetness, bruising your thighs on accident because of how tightly he grips you.

“Fuck, your taste”, he is cursing, growling the words against your cunt. It means a lot when he curses. He only does so when he is especially emotional. And right now every single emotion runs on nothing but you and your taste. He is consumed by you just as much as he consumes you. He doesn’t even care about etiquette, dirtying his face as he slurps loudly. 

Taehyung is a very mannerly feeder. Not many vampires carry such etiquette when they feast, but Taehyung likes to be orderly and neat. He rarely gets his face dirty, let alone make obscene sounds, but you make him forget about every single thing he ever learned about manners. He needs to get dirty, he needs to be disgusting and loud and consume your every drop. 

Too long he had to go without your taste and now that he finally has it again – in such a wonderful way on top of it – he is greedy. Manners be damned, he needs to eat you until you have nothing more to give. 

“Oh god Tae, oh god, oh god”, you are gasping and chanting and fighting for air, pulling at his hair even if you know that it is fruitless. He is locked onto your pussy. No hair pulling in the world could get him away from you now. His nose is punishing your clit for crimes she never committed while his mouth sucks and licks you dry. 

This is the level of desperation you wanted from him and now that you have it, it feels like too much. Not in a way where you truly want him to stop, but in a way which will force you to orgasm even if you had no intention of doing so already.

“You’re the worst, oh god urgh”, you choke out and break, suffocating him with your pussy as he forces you to orgasm. You gasp for air, sob, “you’re so mean. Tae please.”

Taehyung growls into you, pulling you closer. He can’t breathe, at least not normal air. The scent of your blood and orgasm is the only air he receives. He regrets his entire life at this moment because he wonders why he didn’t think of eating your pussy during your period sooner. Oh he missed out on so much. What a fool he was. He presses himself closer, searches for more of your taste even if you are flinching in overstimulation.

“Please a break, please”, you beg, writhing in agony, “please Sir, please!”

Taehyung breaks away from you even if it is difficult. You begged for it and he can’t deny you. He fixes your positions again, making it so you are resting with your head facing the headboard and he is between your legs. It’s so easy for him to push and pull you around. Especially when he has you so weakened from pleasure.

He is pressing his clothed cock against your thigh while his ruined mouth attacks your nipples. He is rubbing his face against them first, soiling your skin with your blood just so he can lick it off of you. He needs to cover every inch of you in your red nectar just to lick it off. Oh how he needs it. 

“Oh god, Tae you are so mean”, you get out breathlessly, “I, I didn’t want to cum. Oh god.”

“Do not speak to me of cruelty when you exist to ruin me”, he gets out, lifting his head, “why would you do this to me? Why?” he is asking you, cupping your face to shake your head in desperation, “what have I ever done to you? Tell me.”

You look at him. His face is a mess, covered in your blood. It soaks parts of his hair as well and sticks to spots on his throat. His eyes are dark red, bordering black and his face is just slightly contorted as his monstrous side fights for dominance. You know that he is winning by only a hair’s width right now.

“Why must you do this to me? Isn’t it enough that I dedicate my every fiber to you? Why must you seduce me with your bleeding heaven? Why?” he asks you and presses his cock against your pussy.

“Tae”, you squeak, flinching in reaction. He feels so heavy and big, grinding down on you even if you are so incredibly sensitive.

He thrusts into you as if he was already fucking you, sliding his hands to the crown of your head. He holds you with enough strength that you have to look at him if you wanted to or not.

“I need you to push me away”, he croaks, “push me away. It is the only way to stop me from ripping my clothes off and fucking you until you have to relearn how to walk.”

The thing is. The small break he gave you as he sucked your nipples and begged for answers you didn’t possess, was enough for you. You want more. You want him. All of him.

“I don’t want to push you away”, you tell him, reaching up to open his shirt.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do this if you aren’t ready to bear the consequences”, he warns you, dropping your face to instead twist the pillow. The voices are screaming at him. Claim her! She is yours to take, so take her! It is so difficult to stay human when remnants of your taste still linger on his tongue.

You pull open his shirt and touch his nipples. Taehyung growls. 

“Don’t. I am warning you”, he gets out. 

Your lips curl into a dangerous smirk, “you can teach me how to walk, can’t you? Sir.”

“Fuck”, he breaks. He rips his own clothes off his body before claiming the space atop you. He grips your leg and pulls you close, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy in an almost punishing way. 

You flinch and moan softly, feeling your senses blur. It hurts, but you like it. Taehyung does it again, forcing incredible pleasure through your pussy. 

“Do you really want this?” he asks as he repeatedly drags his cock through your swollen folds, ending it with an aggressive spank to your clit each time.

“Yes”, you sigh, parting your legs further and arching your tits closer to him.

“Beg me.”

“Please Sir, please”, you beg gladly. 

“You’re such a good little slut. I trained you so well”, he lulls and pushes his thick cock past your soaked entrance. He slips in without resistance, forcing a trembling breath to slip past his lips, “such a good slut”, he presses out, scrunching his nose in pleasure.

He hits your limit. You are so much tighter than on other days. Taehyung still has a good two inches he could fit. The thought turns him on so much. That he fills you out to your literal brim and he still has more to offer. And he is only showing off his human size right now. He is so big. Oh, how it fills him with pleasure and confidence.

“Oh”, you let out, growing limp underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed.

“Keep your eyes open”, he orders darkly.

You obey even if it is difficult.

“That’s better. Keep them on me”, he speaks demandingly, fucking his huge cock into you in dragged-out, maddening strokes, “I need you to look me in the eyes as you realise what all of this begging will get you. You think you can handle me? You think that not pushing me away is a good idea? That I will not completely rewrite your definition of pleasure? Sweetest, you have driven me to the brink of insanity with your endless begging”, he rasps, curling his lips back to show off the two pairs of fangs in his mouth. You know what this means and how feral you have gotten him.

“Tae”, you sob, grabbing his chest because this is as far as your weakened arms can go.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” he asks. Even now he checks up on you. Even when he speaks of insanity and looks like a monster, he checks up on you. Bear in mind, the question carried a hint of teasing to it, but more than anything it was honest and came from a loving heart.

“No”, you whimper.

“But?”

“You feel so good”, you wail, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles in pleasure.

“Mhhm sweetest”, Taehyung purrs, burying himself deeper inside you. He is holding back tonight. You are so tender inside, your changed anatomy allows for his human size to barely fit. If he allowed the monster to take over, he fears that he might rip you apart. He could never rip you apart, even if the voices tell him to. No, he won’t let them win. He will break you in his way. Fuck you until your spirit is broken and you exist for him. This is so much more fun either way.

So he fucks slow and he fucks precise. He knows a woman’s body well enough to be aware that sometimes less is more. That all a woman needs are precise, attentive grinds against her spots so deep inside.

His own instincts tell him to fuck fast, to drill you and reshape your insides, but he knows not to rush it. Drag it out. He is still in control of the voices. Drag it out. Keep the hunt going. This isn’t the last time he will taste you tonight. The feed isn’t over. This is just another part of the chase.

The attentive, precise fuck he gives you is hard to handle. You think that you could manage a lot better if he drilled you like a dumb animal. But this? This ruins you on another level. You claw at his chest and try to get him closer by wrapping your legs around him. You manage to drape them over his thighs weakly and that is as far as you can go before the mindnumbing pleasure makes you shake.

“Tae”, you sob, spilling tears and scrunching your face up while Taehyung looks at you with a sense of tranquillity surrounding him. You are so ruined while he barely lets it show.  

“Look at me”, he says into the symphony of moans and shaky breaths.

You obey even if it is hard.

“Did I ever tell you why I am calling you my sweetest?” he asks.

“No”, you whimper.

Taehyung leans closer, letting his hot breath swirl over your lips. His cock bends and stretches you out even more. 

“Because there is no taste sweeter than you”, he rasps and purrs, writing his name on your deepest spots while his eyes flash up bright red.

“Tae”, you squeakily beg, “Tae, I need to cum again.”

“Yes? Just like this? I am barely even moving and it is making you climax?” 

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Of course it does. You are such a good little slut for big cock. I know you darling, you’re so sensitive and so overstimulated and yet you still beg for more”, he speaks tauntingly while his cock makes the sweetest love to your deepest spots. The pleasure sits in your tummy. So, so deep that it gets hard to concentrate. You feel on fire and he hasn’t even broken you yet. 

“Hm, sweetest? Are you my greedy cock slut?”

You nod your head. 

“Then tell me or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I’m…greedy- ah”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “you’re making me cum.”

“Not so fast”, Taehyung slows down but moves his hips just right to keep you on edge. The build-up isn’t ruined, but dragged out for as long as he sees fit.

“Please”, you squeak.

“Use your words and I will reward you. Come now, don’t disobey me”, he encourages you, caressing your cheek gently.

You try again because you don’t want to disobey him. 

“I’m your, ah, your cock slut. Ah, Tae please. Please let me cum, please.”

“You are such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you. My bestest girl”, he praises and rewards you with deep, circular motions against your sensitive spots. This is going to break you and he knows it.

“I’m cumming. Tae, thank you”, you sob and arch your back, “ah! Tae!”

“That’s it. You’re doing such a good job. That’s my good girl. That’s it”, he is talking you through it, dragging out your orgasm to the point where you grip the sheets and twist them. 

But Taehyung isn’t satisfied. Yes you are gripping the sheets, but this is not what you should grip. Not when his body is right there. Unmarked. He isn’t done with you yet until he has you hurting him from pleasure.

“I am not done with you yet”, he is purring his words, keeping an obsessive grip on your left hip, “tell me to stop. Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t do it on my own.”

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Shit”, Taehyung growls and takes your hands just to pin them above your head. He speeds up his hips, finally using momentum to drill his cock into you. It sounds wet. So wet. Embarrassingly wet even. And harsh. His skin connects with yours in loud slaps while the springs of his bed creak in protest. Truly, it is a wonder that the furniture in this estate survived as long as it did.

“Oh god”, you gasp and writhe, “oh god, oh god, oh god. Ah!”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me, darling”, he is panting, staring at you with deep red eyes. Your blood is lingering on his skin and filling his nose with a maddening scent. Your orgasm sticks to his cock and mixes with your sweet scent. You are pulsating in your afterglow, burning hot because he doesn’t allow the fire to die down. He is so furiously desperate for you. 

You shake your head.

“Faster please”, you beg.

“This is not what you were supposed to say. Oh, you greedy, insatiable woman. I can’t stop”, he rasps and moans, dropping on top of you and knocking a squeak out of you. 

He reaches above your hands, growling into your neck. His long fingers grip the pillow and twist. The cover rips within a second. His back muscles flex and twitch as his body shudders in the pleasure of being with you. 

“I can’t stop myself”, he growls and picks you up. He runs with you in his arms and on his cock until your back hits something icy.

You squeak, looking around yourself. You are outside his bedroom, fucking against the tall windows of his corridor. Outside the night is dark and ominous while inside, Taehyung takes you against the cold windows in a pitch black corridor. The only light source is his bedroom. The door is thrown open from his strength, the golden light paints a rectangle on the marble floor and red carpet. It hues Taehyung’s body in it as well, creating a play of shadow and light. His pearls of sweat are glistening in it, while his black, pulsing veins seem especially dark and throbbing. He lifts his head from your neck, giving view to the deep red of your blood, his burgundy eyes and the ebony mess of his hair sticking to his features. 

“Tae”, you keen, feeling light-headed. The coldness of the window feels miniscule in comparison to the fire he lets you experience.

“I have to take you against every surface of this wing until the very fibres of this building know your every moan”, he chokes out as he bounces you on his cock. Quick and punishing. Your tits bounce, your pussy squirts red pleasure and your limbs can barely hold on. You throw your head back and wail. 

Wail in pleasure because nothing feels better right now than Taehyung's cock reshaping your insides. 

“Yes darling, show them. Show them how my good girl sounds as I fuck her.”

“Tae I have to- again!”

“Climax as often as you need to. I won’t stop you.” 

“Tae!”

And as you shake in his arms and soil his entire lower body with your bloody orgasm, Taehyung slows down to drag it out again. He fucks you deep, slow and punishing until you claw at his shoulders to the point of open scratches. And then, only then, he pulls you closer. Your back leaves the window, his cock fills you up so deep. Movement. Clattering of stuff hitting the ground. Next, wood under your body and Taehyung holding your legs apart.

This is the drawer he keeps by the entrance of his wing. Normally he keeps his outdoor essentials on it, but they are currently on the floor as he uses the piece of sturdy furniture to fuck you into a state of senselessness. The light of the atelier shines onto the corridor and gives you a chance to see what he is doing. Not that you have a lot of your vision at this point.

“Every surface darling, every single surface until you tell me to stop”, he growls. His dark hair is hanging into his ruby eyes, giving him an aura of danger. You know him to be of no danger to you, finding the view nothing but arousing instead. You are scared though, not of him of course, but of the immense pleasure he makes you feel. No human should feel this good and yet you do. Truly, you are so scared, craving more until you can’t anymore.

“Tae please, Tae…”

He pulls his cock out and pumps it angrily. It is messed up in your blood, dripping translucent desperation. Taehyung uses the sinful concoction to pleasure himself while his crazed eyes flit to your pussy. 

“You’re gaping”, he assess and growls, “my pretty gaping slut. My cock ruined you and it’s not even my true size.”

He is using contractions. Taehyung rarely uses them. You have him ruined, you truly have. 

“Sir, I’m your cock slut”, you mewl, writhing desperately.

“Fuck, I want to break you.”

Thump.

He fell to his knees before you, connecting his mouth with your pussy instantly. Well fucked and creamed with his taste. Taehyung moans and slips his tongue as deep as possible. His taste of possession mixes with your blood. He growls, fucking his own cock sore from how angrily he jerks himself. He feels like an animal right now. His vampiric nature has a hold of him, there is not an ounce of sanity left in him. The only thing which keeps him grounded, is the punishing handjob he gives himself. The pain and roughness of it keeps him with you.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who experiences pain right now. You are so sensitive that his tongue feels like torture on your pussy. A torture you chase with weak squirms of your hips.

“Slow please”, you beg without meaning it, gripping the edge of the dresser, “please, ah! Please!” 

Taehyung lifts his lips for your sake. He puts your feet on his shoulders, looking up at you even if you have your head rolled to the side weakly. 

“Keep breathing for me”, he orders you and dives back down. 

“How should I- ah!” you arch your back, digging your feet into his shoulders as you try to squirm. He is dragging his tongue through your folds quickly, taking advantage of the position to really taste every inch of you. You squirm, “please slow, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he murmurs against your pussy and concentrates his licks on your clit. 

“Oh god, Tae”, you wail, dropping into the hard dresser in defeat. You have to take what he gives you. You signed up for this and now you are paying the sweetest consequences. 

The last few orgasms sat deep and didn’t originate from your clit. No, Taehyung dragged them out of you from the deepest parts of your cunt. He doesn’t need the most obvious spot to make you shake and because he doesn’t, the stimulation he gives you right now feels especially good. Your clit was so left out, so neglected it felt as if he was edging it. And now you have his burning, slickened-up tongue frenching it aggressively. 

“Slow please”, you beg, trying to breathe. 

The only reason why you beg for him to slow down is because it is so goddamn embarrassing how fast you orgasm with him. You managed to take in one song coming from his atelier’s record player and then you are already fighting for your right to sanity. Please, just once you want to have to fight for your orgasm. Just once, you want to feel as if it will never come. 

“Sir. Tae Sir. Please.”

But of course Taehyung doesn’t listen. Because Taehyung isn’t human right now and you are his feast. Taehyung hates being interrupted when he feeds. And so you are destined to find your downfall at the tip of his dripping tongue while the very fibres of this building learn the sound of your moans. And so you scream and wail and beg him for mercy. And Taehyung doesn’t listen until he has you filling his throat with your squirt. It mixes with your blood and forces Taehyung to climax all over his hand.

He growls into your pussy, scrunching his face because the orgasm feels like torture. He purposefully doesn’t allow it to feel good. He crushes his own balls and slaps his own cockhead because this is what keeps him human. He can’t allow himself to enjoy his heaven when this could mean your downfall.

“Sir! Please! It hurts! Ah please!”

You wonder if people outside can hear you. You are so close to his exit after all. 

Taehyung doesn’t give you time to think of this possibility as he keeps you with him the second your endless orgasms stopped. He picks you up from the dresser and the next time you find yourself feeling at least a little sane, you are in his atelier, sitting on his lap as he occupies his couch. He uses said couch to pose you or Jungkook in the most beautiful position. Most of the time, they are very sensual poses however if you are allowed to be blunt for a second. 

You drop into him, trembling atop his lap. His body is wet. Sweat, blood, squirt and his own cum. The sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to sob and tremble. Taehyung soothes it by running his hands up and down your back.

“Are you still enjoying this, darling? You are shaking so much”, he is checking up on you again. He treats you so fucking good.

You nod your head, twisting his hair weakly.

“Please more, please”, you beg him, drooling all over his shoulder because you can’t swallow anymore. Not when he has broken you so, so good.

“Such a greedy slut”, he says and picks you up to sit you down on his cock. He has grown into his vampiric size by now, resulting in him having to carry you as he moves you up and down on his length. You couldn’t possibly take him all. Not when you are already so entirely destroyed from everything he did to you. He doesn’t mind that he has to carry you. On the contrary, it is so utterly arousing to him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. Well-fucked, gaping and dripping sweet blood. There is no toy more perfect than you. 

“Oh god”, you get out, pressing yourself closer to him. You can feel the remnants of his orgasm smearing all over your walls. It sounds so wet. You are so tight and swollen that it makes the nastiest sucking sounds each time he moves you up. 

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought that you still had an orgasm in you, but you were wrong. The thought exhausts you. You can’t give him any more. You are used up. Utterly and truly used up.

“I can’t cum anymore”, you get out, crying tears, “please don’t make me cum again, oh god.”

“Keep being good for me. I promise, it’s not long anymore”, he encourages you, meeting his movements in the middle by rolling his hips up. 

“Tae”, you whimper, soiling his skin with your tears, “sensitive. I can’t cum anymore.”

“I know darling, I know. You’re so good, such a good girl. I have to climax again. I’m almost there, keep being good for me.”

“Oh god”, you croak and hug him desperately, “Tae…”

“Almost there, darling”, he breathes and squeezes your buttocks, “help me, mhm? Do you want to help me reach it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“That’s my good toy”, he praises and kisses your cheek, “cover your fingers in your blood and feed it to me.”

You follow his orders happily, reaching behind yourself to drag your fingers through the mess your bodies make between your legs. More. You bury two of your fingers in your pussy even if his cock is already taking so much of you. 

“Yes”, he growls, throbbing deep inside, “oh, so tight”, he sighs under his breath, tilting his head back as a guttural moan leaves him. 

You slip your fingers out, staring at them with teary eyes. They are so messy, covered in thick blood. Taehyung stares at them as well, tightening his grip on your body as his hips chases your heat. 

Your eyes meet. 

He sticks his tongue out. Fangs appeared on his lower teeth as well, glistening in the lights. 

“Tae”, you whimper and press your fingers down on his tongue. 

He growls and closes his mouth around them, rolling his eyes back in bliss. He doesn’t bother closing his lids, keeping them open halfway to give view of his ruined state. He growls and moans, growls and moans, sucks, thrusts his hips and whimpers. His once deep, demonic voice switches into the highest, most desperate squeak and seconds later you feel him filling you with his hot cum. 

You are so sensitive that even his cum painting your walls feels like too much. You drop your head on his shoulder, losing your every strength as Taehyung pumps you full of his orgasm. 

Your fingers slip out of his mouth once he has to gasp for air.  

“Oh heavens”, he lets out, lifting you off his cock just to drop you atop his lap. His cun squirts everywhere instantly. 

He wraps his arms around you tightly, shuddering in his intense afterglow, “oh my darling”, he breathes, burying his face deep in the crook of your shoulder, “how are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, you whimper, “Sir, please don’t let go.”

Taehyung hugs you tighter, soothing your trembles with tender hands running over your body. 

“I am right here, my darling. Oh, how well you did. How proud I am of you”, he speaks sweetly, washing away the aches from your heart.

Sex like tonight often times leaves you feeling embarrassed and disgusted at yourself. You can’t explain it and it isn’t your lovers’ fault. It is just hard to accept that you let yourself go in such ways once the ecstatic pleasure clears from your mind. If Taehyung would let go of you right now, you would have an actual mental breakdown. You need his comfort like you need air. 

And Taehyung knows that you need it. He is shaken himself, feeling ruined from the sex and dizzy from the blood high. He needs to hold and be held just as much as you do, but he is also aware that you need so much more comfort than he does. 

“You did so well”, and so he praises you, kisses your shoulder and sways you gently, “you are so precious and worthy of so much love. Oh darling, how much I love you.”

You release a trembling breath and with it so much pressure on your heart. Taehyung soothes the aches in your neck with a gentle hand, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his whispers continue. 

“I am so blessed, my sweetest darling. Thank you so much for giving me a right to your beautiful body. Oh, how I want to spend every remaining second of this day worshipping it.”

You giggle. Warmth fills Taehyung’s heart. He helped you through the hardest part of coming back. He chuckles with you, turning your head gently to press a kiss to your cheek and next your closed eyelid. You scrunch your face, chasing him with a happy giggle shaking your shoulders.

He giggles as well, smiling against your skin. 

“My good girl”, he whispers, pecking your cheek, “my sweetest darling. Mhm, my sweet ___.”

“Tae”, you sigh, nudging his cheek with your nose before lifting your head to meet his eyes. You are basically glowing in happiness, “Tae…”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you”, you say and scrunch your nose, “I feel so good.”

“Yes?” he smiles, cupping your cheek, “I feel good as well, my darling. You make me so proud.”

You giggle, leaning into his palm. You close your eyes and sigh, letting your shoulders fall in relaxation.

“Should we take a shower, my darling?” he offers. 

“Yeah”, you nod your head, peeling your eyes open. You snicker, cupping his cheeks, “you’re so dirty. Oh god, Tae there’s blood everywhere.”

“I know, it’s wonderful”, he says and smiles playfully, “I hope that is just your period. I made sure to be careful, but you were so tender today.”

“You were perfect. It didn’t hurt at all”, you assure him and wiggle your shoulders, “I’m so happy. I really like it when you are rough with me and this was perfect.”

“Yes, yes it was perfect for me as well”, Taehyung says and hugs you close. He stands up with you in his arms, “I shall take care of you and then we shall find sleep in the library.”

“Yes, wow”, you gasp, “can you read me a story then?”

“I will read you not one, but two stories my darling”, he says, making you giggle and snuggle closer. 

“Maybe three?”

“Of course, oh what a question. I will read you even four stories.”

“Wow”, you snicker and squeeze him gently, “I’m happy.”

Taehyung smiles, bouncing you in his arms gently to tighten his grip.

“I’m happy as well, darling”, he tells you, making a promise to himself to dedicate tonight solely to your happiness.

He will do an amazing job. He is your perfect darling after all.

#taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung scenario #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #vampire!taehyung #dom!taehyung #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts x you #dom!bts #vampire!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader #vampire!bangtan #dom!bangtan #fanfic: sanguis duology

[azriels-shadowsinger]

helloooo!!! i wanted to request #15 from the prompt list with Az? have a great day<33

“I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.” “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 900

a/n: thank yall for 300 followers!!

prompt list

You pushed your dinner around on your plate with a fork, unable to ignore the nausea in your stomach that lingered whenever Azriel was gone on a mission. He was supposed to return this morning, and the more time that passed, the larger the pit in your stomach felt. What if he was hurt? Why is he still shielding his thoughts from Rhys? You can’t control the spiral of thoughts.

Just as you are about to stand to throw the food away, you hear a commotion in the other room. Abandoning your plate, you rush towards the living room. When you enter, you see Azriel standing there, reassuring Cassian and Rhys that he is fine. You immediately run, enveloping him in a bear hug. His shadows immediately circle around you and Azriel chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as well. You hear Cass and Rhys quietly leave the room and Azriel assures them that he will fill them in on the mission later.

“You aren’t allowed to leave for that long anymore.” You mumble into his chest. “I was worried something happened.”

“I’m fine, y/n/n. I got held up, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.” He reassures. “You worry too much.”

“How can I not? My best friend who I love dearly is gone for days at a time with no contact and-“ he cuts you off.

“You what?” He pulls away and stares at you.

“What?” You look at him confused, clearly unaware of what exactly you said, too focused on fussing over him.

“You said you love me.”

Well shit, you think. You have had a crush on Azriel for many years, the two of you constantly flirting and acting in ways beyond what most would consider appropriate for friends. However, it was only recently that you realized that you love him. And you were almost certain he loved you too, but you were always too scared to find out.

“Yeah. I do.” You say hesitantly, biting your bottom lip. Azriel pauses for a long moment before looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry. I…” he hesitates. “I don’t feel the same way.” Your heart sinks.

You knew what he was doing. Azriel’s insecurities run deeper than most people realize. But as his best friend, you were very aware of his habit of self-sabotaging when it came to dating, convinced that he was not good enough for them or that he would only cause them pain. In the past, you hadn’t tried too hard to stop him. Rather, you would selfishly relish in the fact that his time wasn’t being taken up by some other female anymore.

“Then look me in the eyes and tell me that.” You see his hand clench into a fist, and then flex. He was obviously fighting with his inner demons in his head, and if it went on for too long, the demons would win. Not this time, you thought. Not as you felt him slipping through your fingers. You place a gentle hand on his cheek and guide him to look at you.

“Y/n, I don’t-“ his shadows swarmed over his mouth, refusing to let the words leave. You smirked.

“See, even your shadows know you’re full of shit. Wanna try that again?” You said playfully, trying to lighten the mood. He reins the shadows in and takes a deep breath.

“Of course I love you.” You feel the tension ease from your shoulders. “But you deserve more. You deserve someone who doesn’t have a complicated past, who isn’t always leaving on missions, who doesn’t do such horrible things for their job.” His voice shakes slightly.

“I love you because of those things, not in spite of them. Yes, you have a complicated past, but it only proves your strength in overcoming it. Yes, you’re always gone on missions, but it’s because you are fiercely loyal to keeping your court safe. And yes, you may do some gruesome work on those missions, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still work that helps the Night Court and keeps us safe.” You can see his eyes light up slightly as you explain the reasons you love him.

“You may think I deserve better, but that isn’t your decision. And I’ve decided that I only want you.” You state matter-of-factly, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him again. “There’s nothing you can say to stop that. I’ve been your friend for centuries and those things have never bothered me before, why would they now?” He smiles at your words and returns your hug.

“I love your stubbornness.” He mumbles before pulling you into a kiss.

“Keep that in mind down the road when you start to hate it, okay?” You reply with a cheeky grin, pulling a laugh from Azriel.

this one was kinda tough bc personally i don't think azriel would ever be able to lie about loving someone, the poor guy craves to have someone to love who loves him too. But i also didnt wanna have reader the line, because anyone who knows azriel would never push him away like that if it wasn’t true because they know how badly he wants love. so idk how i feel about this one, lmk what yall think.

prompt list

tag list: @fxckmiup

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #my writing #a court of thorns and roses

[blusherbaker]

TWST Kink Headcanons: Heartslabyul Edition

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

Each character is given a short write-up of one of their main kinks, as well as a list of other kinks they may like (with a little more info added in some cases), and a list of things they would dislike ^v^

Warnings: Smut, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, food, pain, etc.

| Savanaclaw »——>

Riddle: Submission

Riddle is always a bit contentious in terms of what his kinks may be, some seeing him as leaning towards more dominance-related kinks, others seeing him as leaning towards more submission-related kinks, some seeing him as having completely different interests, and some seeing him as almost totally vanilla. Personally, I think that Riddle would be likely much more towards the submissive side, loving the feeling of being in that headspace. But, he requires a very caring soft dom, maybe even someone akin to a caregiver. Now, Riddle doesn’t necessarily like age play, but he enjoys letting go of control for a bit. He gets so sweet and obedient when he’s being gently guided, cared for, and even coddled a little, but above all, made to feel safe and loved. He absolutely adores submission when he is in an environment where he feels safe enough to let someone else take the reins and have power and authority over him, and this would both give him a sense of security, and excitement at the same time. 

Other possible kinks: 

PRAISE

Nipple play (he can orgasm just from having his nipples played with)

Biting

Hair pulling

Dominance (he's a sub-leaning switch ♥︎) 

Collaring (Prefers his partner in a collar, rather than himself. Works well with his Unique Magic!)

Dislikes: 

Humiliation, especially regarding his size or his capabilities

Impact play

Choking

Ace: Brat play 

So… we can all agree that Ace would be - really, already is - a brat, right? He’s cheeky, he’s playful, he’s a troublemaker and kind of badly behaved most of the time. He craves an opportunity where he could let that free and already know how he’d be punished and/or rewarded. He’d be SO into letting the full intensity of his bratty side loose. Ace would more or less have the green light to talk back, disobey, tease, and generally be a little shit to his heart’s content, and he’d know that his behaviour would only make things better… for the most part, that is. Because, of course, he really wants to be made to submit. That's where the real joy and excitement would begin for him: when his partner finally puts him in his place.

Other possible kinks (mostly receiving): 

Degradation / humiliation

Praise (and bonus points if it's humiliation and praise all in one!)

Masochism

Exhibitionism

Light CBT?

Gagging

Edging

Mental bondage

Dislikes: 

Other forms of bondage

Role play

Deuce: Praise

Deuce isn’t the kinkiest boy, but he would LOVE to be praised - absolutely no questions about it. No matter what role he’s in, whether things were leaning more kinky (in terms of what he likes) or pretty vanilla, you give him a little praise and he’ll melt. Well… his heart will melt; his cock will be rock hard. It doesn’t even need to be intense praise, or poetic, or anything of that sort. The simplest phrases, a little comment on how good he’s making you feel, or how happy he makes you, or even just something positive about how he looks or behaves (especially in the bedroom), and that’s it. Even if he was pinning you to the mattress, completely controlling you in every other way, you'd be the one making him feel more pleasure than he'd ever expected. A few sweet words, and you'll have Deuce in the palm of your hand.  

Other possible kinks: 

Light bondage / restraint (especially handcuffs, or just with hands or body weight)

Domesticity

Lingerie (on himself OR his partner)

Dislikes: 

Degradation and humiliation, especially regarding his intelligence

Sadism

Really, most things that could cause physical or mental discomfort for you or him. This sweet boy just wants things to be nice and pleasant for you both (*´◡`*)

Trey: Stuffing

Okay, so… I have a feeling Trey would be really into stuffing. He doesn’t necessarily like feedism; I don't believe he would find the intentional weight gain aspect of feeding to be very enticing. But seeing his partner fill up on his food, or - even better! - feeding it to them by hand DEFINITELY would appeal. He adores the control he has over them in that situation; the intimacy of feeding his partner, and of seeing their body temporarily change because of him, their belly gradually becoming round and taut as they're stuffed full of something he made specifically for them. His slightly sadistic side would also like seeing their expression shift from pleased, to content, to uncomfortable as they ate the dishes he made for them, his gaze intense but his voice soft as he coaxes them to “just have one more bite”. Then afterwards, soothing them with gentle touches and loving words once they're overfull and sleepy… now that would be something that Trey would enjoy immensely. 

Other possible kinks (mostly giving): 

Sensation play (he definitely uses his UM!!) 

Teeth (obviously) - also includes biting! 

Orgasm control

Breeding (as a fantasy, NOT reality)

Dacryphilia (crying)

Cockwarming?

Soft domination (possible Daddy kink?)

Dislikes: 

Food play (he doesn’t like the mess)

Pet play

Exhibitionism

Cater: Overstimulation

Giving, receiving, it really doesn't matter to him - Cater simply LOVES overstimulation, in any form. Seeing his partner gradually fall apart from his touch and his words, completely overwhelming them with how much pleasure he gives them... or pain... or, pleasure so intense it becomes painful, it's all a dream to him. If you let him, he will gladly make you so sensitive from his touch it hurts, whether from very lightly raking his nails over your skin over and over and over, playing with your senses in other ways, or making you feel so good for so long that you’re begging him to stop. And he can do this all either by himself, or with help from his clones (thank you, “Split Card!”) He also ADORES being overstimulated himself. Probably even more than doing it to you! And this could be in a few different ways, too: teasing him for extended periods of time, binding his body, playing with textures and temperatures on his skin, giving him spicy food, edging, spanking, or - probably his favourite - forced orgasms. No matter the method, though, Cater likes how overstimulation makes him turn off his brain. He never cums as hard as when his mind is filled with nothing but static, the sound of your voice, and the feeling of what you’re doing to him. 

Other possible kinks: 

Bondage

Sensation play

Dumbification (think for him - he’ll love it ♥︎)

Voyeurism

Being filmed (technically a form of exhibitionism I guess? however, he keeps the recordings private)

Hair pulling

Mirror sex?

Group sex, more specifically clone sex

Orgasm control (especially forced orgasms, as noted above)

Dislikes: 

Degradation

Forced feminization

Whew! And that concludes my headcanons for the possible kinks of these 5 Heartslabyul lads. Let me know what you think, and if you have any other ideas or opinions! I'd love to hear them!!

You can read some extra ideas about these kinks here!

#mdni #twst headcanons #heartslabyul #twst smut #riddle rosehearts smut #ace trappola smut #deuce spade smut #trey clover smut #cater diamond smut #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #twst thoughts #blusher's original ♥︎ #I have some more thoughts about them which I'll add in another post or a reblog so I don't get carried away #I'll be back sometime soon with Savanaclaw ^w^

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Video Star (Request)

Travis is a star on the field, but is he just as good as your music video love interest?

Words: 1,672

Warnings: implied smut, language, DNI if under 18

“Ok, last thing to go over. We need you to choose the love interest for your music video.” Your manager handed you a piece of paper with a list of names on it. “These are all of the people who have availability over the next couple of months. We tried to pick people from different areas; athletes, a couple of models, even a musician in the mix.” You were getting ready to shoot the music video for your new song “Woman” off of your sophomore album. “Are we still going with the club scene? We need someone who can actually dance, I don’t want a repeat of last year.” Your manager nodded in agreement, jotting down notes furiously. You had chosen a model for one of your other music videos last year, and while he was extremely attractive and photogenic, he couldn’t dance worth shit and it showed on camera. You still cringe at the YouTube comments till this day.

You scanned the list, and no one caught your eye until you got to Travis Kelce. “Wait, Travis said yes? Isn’t he dating someone?” Your manager pulled up something on her phone, flipping it so you could read the headline. “Travis Kelce breaks up with longtime girlfriend Kayla Nicole.” You shrugged. You had met Travis a couple of times through work commitments, and you were a fan of his, so he seemed like the best bet. “Ok, Kelce will work. I want to meet with him before we shoot. Make sure the chemistry is there.” You handed the paper back to your manager who immediately got Travis’ team on the phone to set up a meeting.

Between your hectic schedule and Travis’ football games, you didn’t get a chance to meet up for a couple of weeks. Finally, Travis was going to be in New York for a game against the Jets and had a day off where you could grab lunch together. You rarely traveled with more than person at one time, your manager usually tagging along to your business meetings, but you asked her not to come this time because you didn’t want this to feel like work. You and Travis were going to get very “intimate” in this music video and while it was all for show, you needed it to be convincing. If the chemistry wasn’t there, no amount of editing was going to make it a good music video. You watched from the restaurant window as Travis stepped out of a taxi across the street and hustled over to the restaurant. You were surprised that he didn’t arrive with an entourage of people, and definitely expect him to take a taxi to meet you. You looked down at what you were wearing, a simple black sweater and jeans. Travis was dressed to the nines in a full suit. Forgoing the tie, a bit of his chest hair peaked out of the slightly unbuttoned white-collar shirt he was wearing. Fuck, you were going to seem like you weren’t taking this seriously at all.

He waved at you from the hostess stand and you blushed, his perfect smile making you weak in the knees. When he arrived at the table, you stood up to give him a side hug, taking in his clean cologne scent. He shrugged his suit jacket off and settled into his seat as you fixed your sweater. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I don’t know how to get around New York at all.”  You giggled, reassuring him with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, I just got here myself.” You opened your menu, perusing the options. You looked up after a few minutes and saw that Travis was staring at you. “Something wrong? I tried to pick a place that had a variety of options. My manager was telling me that I can be a food snob.” You were rambling, your cheeks heating up as Travis just smiled as you talked. Nothing is wrong with the restaurant. You just look really good tonight. Just admiring what’s in front of me.” The restaurant must have moved to the surface of the sun because you were burning up. “Wow, does that work on girls usually?” Travis threw his head back with a laugh. “No, but you looked so tense, I had to lighten the mood.” He shook his shoulders which made you chuckle.

Dinner quickly turned into a back and forth of stories and jokes. You were quickly building feelings for Travis, and who could blame you. He was funny, humble, and completely professional. He never made you feel uncomfortable or tried to hit on you, which was rarely the case with professional athletes.

“So, tell me what I have to do. I’m all yours.” You squeezed your thighs together at that remark, thoughts of every way you could take advantage of his generosity. “Um,” you took a sip of your drink, “we’re working with one of my favorite producers. The song is called “Woman”, it’s all about wanting to be the woman your man needs and basically seducing him through different scenes. I do want to warn you though, there is a scene where we’ll need you to dance.” You grimaced after telling Travis the concept, thinking he was going to want to back out, but he just sat there taking in the concept. “I for sure thought the dancing thing would throw you off.” “You obviously haven’t seen my touchdown celebrations. I’ve got hips that would make a salsa dancer jealous.”

When the day of the shoot arrived, you were more nervous than you thought you’d be. Your mind had been on that dinner ever since, and you had been texting back with Travis, mostly about work and the video, but he so effortlessly slid in flirty comments that gave you butterflies. You were falling for him but weren’t sure if he had similar feelings or was just a natural flirt. You decided to brush it off so you could have a successful shoot.

Travis arrived early to the set, and after you both got done with hair and makeup, you headed to the first scene, the sensual bedroom shot. You begged the producer to shoot this one first in case it went terribly, making the rest of the day would be a waste. You were both standing in the set, white robes covering your scantily clad body. You were in a leather bikini ensemble while Travis was shirtless with jeans on. “I’ve never been in a music video before.” Travis rubbed his hands together as the make-up artist took off his robe and did some quick makeup touch ups on his chest. You dropped your robe to reveal your outfit, and it took everything in Travis not to drool on the spot. You were used to wearing ridiculous outfits for music videos and performances, but you could definitely feel Travis’ eyes on you as he watched you get onto the bed.

“Alright Travis, for this scene, we’re looking for heat and passion, like the two of you haven’t seen each other for months and the sexual tension is about to erupt.” The director guided Travis through the scene. You gave Travis a funny face, mouthing that the director was a little crazy, which made him laugh. The director queued the music, which began blaring through the speakers. Travis was a natural, climbing over you, ghosting kisses over your body as he made his way up to your lips. You tried to find a place to put your hands that seemed natural, ending up hooking your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. You hoped that Travis couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. You locked lips and for a second, you couldn’t hear anything but the breaths between the two of you. You pulled away, bringing yourself back to reality as the director yelled cut. You struggled to get up, the leather of your shorts slipping against the silk sheets on the bed. Your knee accidently brushed against Travis as you rolled over, and you could feel a growing bulge in his jeans.

He immediately noticed and his eyes were extremely apologetic. You grabbed his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Dave, can we take a 15-minute break? I have to go pee and I have to be cut out of these shorts.” The director nodded before announcing to the crew. The short break would give Travis a chance to “collect” himself, and he hustled out of the room after a quiet thank you towards you. You looked for Travis and found him in his dressing room, head in his hands as he sat in front of the mirror. You gave a courteous knock on the door and peaked your head in. “Hey, can I come in?” You took his silence as approval. You sat at the chair next to his, not sure what to say. Travis broke the silence. “No question about our chemistry now, huh?” you laughed, glad he was able to see the humor in the situation. “I don’t think there was ever a question, but a girl always loves a bit of reassurance.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence before you heard a knock on the door calling you back to set. “The director said he got what he needed for the bedroom shot so we don’t have to shoot that scene anymore”, you reassured Travis. “No way. I need to redeem myself, I can be better.” You patted his shoulder. “This isn’t football, no need to redeem yourself, they’ll cut the scenes together, make it look amazing.” You began walking out of the room when Travis stopped you. “At least let me make it up to you. Show you my bedroom skills in private.” You turned back to him, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Is that your way of asking me on a date?” “Technically we went on a date two weeks ago, so this is me asking you on a second date.”

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #traviskelce #nfl smut #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine

[babydollmarauders]

SPARKS FLY — ETHAN EDWARDS

ethan edwards x fem!hughes!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which Ethan spends 4th of July at the Hughes lake house and becomes enamored with y/n Hughes

specific lyrics: “you’re the kind of reckless that should send me runnin’ but i kinda know that i won’t get far.” and “you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. close enough to hope you couldn’t see what i was thinking of.” and “i see sparks fly whenever you smile.” and “get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.” and “my mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea.” and “lead me up the staircase, won’t you whisper soft and slow? ‘i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.’”

notes: happy 21st birthday to my bestie, ethan!! i’m so sorry this is so late, i just wrote all of this in like 2 hours and it’s not proofread, so sorry if it sucks.

“Luke! put me down!” my screeches prove futile when my twin looks down at me with a wicked grin.

“down? okay!”

before i can argue that whatever he’s planning isn’t what i meant, i’m dropped from the dock and into the cold lake water. my body stiffens at the feeling and i gasp before my head is submerged under the water.

i kick my legs and rise to the surface, gulping in throat-fulls of air as i smooth my hair out of my face, glaring up at my brothers and their friends as they laugh.

“you’re gonna pay for that.” i tell Luke, holding my hand up in waiting for him to help me back onto the dock. Luke takes a step back, eyeing me with caution. “really? you won’t even help me up?”

“i’ll help you.” i look over just in time to see Ethan step over to the edge. slipping his hand in mine, he pulls me up, helping me onto the wooden dock. i can’t help but let my eyes wander as i rise to my feet, mere inches from him.

god, he looks good shirtless.

shit, y/n, stop thinking like that.

i avert my eyes, rather focusing on the shivering of my body from the summer breeze hitting my wet skin.

“i’m, uh— i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help.” i tell the guys, awkwardly turning away and jogging up the path to the back deck. my father man’s the grill, flipping hamburgers, while my mother sits at the patio table, cutting up a couple watermelons.

“what on earth happened to you?” my dad chuckles, flipping a burger. i scoff, rolling my eyes. “i thought you were just tanning?”

“i was. and then your son happened.” i tell him, flopping down into a chair across from my mother who finally looks up to see me in my dripping state.

“gotta be more specific than that, honey.” she laughs. “we do have three of them.”

“the one i’m cursed to share 50 percent of my genes with.” i huff.

“ahh, yes, that one.” she muses, chopping into the last piece of watermelon before handing me a triangle. “what did he do this time?”

“he dropped me in the lake.” i say through a mouthful of fruit.

“why?” my dad chimes in, finally shutting the grill and taking a seat next to his wife.

“cause he’s insufferable? i don’t know.” i raise an eyebrow. “does he need a reason?”

“guess not.” he shrugs. i take another bite of watermelon, juice dripping down my chin. “but here they all come.”

my dad raises his chin to motion behind me and i turn my head to glance back, making direct eye contact with Ethan, who walks between Luke and Dylan.

my head snaps forward and i wipe the back of my hand across my chin, cleaning the watermelon juice off my skin. looking over at my mother, a smirk and a raised brow adorn her face.

“you sure that’s a good idea, honey?” despite her cocky expression, her tone is soft and gentle, careful not to hurt my feelings with her words.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” i feign obliviousness, grabbing a beach towel off the stack on the table before the boys can take them all. i wrap the University of Michigan towel around my shoulders, using one end to scrunch the water out of my hair.

“i saw that look, and the way you reacted to it.” my mom reaches across the table, laying a gentle hand on my forearm. “just be careful. make sure you know what you’re doing, because if Luke finds out you like one of his friends…”

“yeah, i know.” i sigh. how could i ever forget Luke’s ‘friends are off limits’ rule?

before either of us can speak again, i feel a set of hands come down on my shoulders, making me jolt in surprise.

Jack’s laugh bellows in my ears, my eyes rolling in annoyance as he finds hilarity in my surprise.

i watch as the guys pile onto the porch deck, grabbing towels from the stack and drying off to prepare for dinner. my parents make themselves scarce, heading inside to collect dinner necessities.

i’m pulled out of my thoughts when Ethan drops into the chair across from me, stealing a piece of watermelon from the bowl.

“maize and blue looks good on you.” he whispers, sending a wink in my direction before he gets pulled back into a conversation with Dylan, who takes the spot beside him.

blood rushes to my cheeks as i glance down at the towel draped over my shoulders, the colors in perfect contrast to my skin.

“y/n, honey?” i look up at my mother who stands at the head of the table.

“hmm? yeah?”

“could you run in and grab the pasta salad out of the fridge?” she asks me, sharing a knowing smile.

“coming right up.” i rise from my seat, dropping the towel back onto the chair so that my brothers, or even trevor, don’t take my spot while i’m gone.

i make my way into the house, pushing open the sliding glass door and rounding the corner into the kitchen. opening the refrigerator, i retrieve the large mixing bowl of pasta as well as a bottle of water, before closing the door.

i jump in surprise, as Ethan now stands leaning against the counter behind the refrigerator door, almost dropping the bowl.

“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” he chuckles, a twinge of red coating his cheeks as he rubs at the back of his neck.

the sunset washes in from the window behind him, radiating him with a golden glow and i can’t help but notice the golden flecks in his green eyes. he looks so ethereal that my knees nearly go weak when i see him at full. water drips from his hair, dropping onto his bare chest and down his abs, and i’m only so strong, my eyes follow the droplets on their path, my lips parted as i take a deep inhale.

“uh- no- you’re uh- you’re good.” i tell him, finally pulling my line of sight back up to his face, where a cocky smirk is now placed.

“Luke sent me in to get the fireworks from the closet? but i don’t know what closet they’re in.” he replies. “there’s like 3 of them down here.”

i laugh, using my water bottle to point towards the closet underneath the stairs.

“they’re in there.” i inform him. “are we doing them after dinner?”

“yeah. i think it was like an unspoken vote? dinner, then fireworks, then bonfire.” he says, heading over to the closet and pulling out the large rubbermaid tub of fireworks. “jesus, do we really need all these?”

“it’s fourth of july, go big or go home, right?” i shrug, finally stepping back toward the glass door. “you haven’t experienced beauty until you’ve seen a Hughes fourth of july firework show.”

i turn toward the open glass door, making my way back out, but not before i hear him mutter to himself-

“pretty sure i experienced beauty the moment i saw you.”

my cheeks burn and i wonder if he meant for me to hear that or if he thought i wouldn’t, but regardless, the words make my heart race.

**

i sit back in my chair, watching on as Jack, Luke, and their friends light the fireworks before sprinting away to watch them light up the sky.

Luke, Dylan, and Mark hype Ethan up as he sets fire to the end of the fuse and jumps over the firework; waiting until just before the firework is about to go off in order to come running back up to the grassy patch where everyone sits. i roll my eyes at his recklessness, wondering just how stupid guys can be.

the reckless abandon in which he does things should have me running for the hills. i’ve never before been so enamored with a guy who does stupid things like these. and yet, just by looking at him, i know that i’m too far in now. the crush i’ve held for him for the past two years has blossomed into something more.

he smiles at my twin and his friends as they shake him and shout, hyping his stupid actions, and it’s like sparks fly when i see the beaming look on his face. and coincidentally, in that moment, purple fireworks light up the sky, shooting in every direction.

“i know that look.” i look over at my eldest brother, furrowing my brows at his words.

“what?” he rolls his eyes at my response, giving me a soft smile.

“don’t ‘what?’ me, y/n. i know that look. it’s the same look you used to give Matthew when he would come pick Brady up from the lake house when you were like, eleven.”

i laugh at his comparison. no longer embarrassed of the past crush i held on the older Tkachuk.

“and how would that look?” i ask him.

“like this.” Quinn attempts a faraway look in his eyes, batting his lashes and holding his folded hands up to his cheek.

“you asshole!” i giggle, pushing at his shoulder. “i don’t look like that! i have never done that!”

“okay, maybe not like that.” he relents, chuckling. “but you have that look of admiration and love. and i know what Luke says but… i say go for it.”

“what?” i’m shocked by his words, not used to being told anything other than ‘be careful’ and ‘you know Luke’s rule’.

“if you really think there’s something there? go for it. Luke will get over it. i promise.” he assures me, a soft smile on his face as he reaches out to hold my hand.

“but, just in case, i’d say maybe don’t tell Luke right away.” he tells me, pressing a peck to the back of my hand before he drops it, rising from his seat. “and here comes lover boy now.”

Quinn wiggles his eyebrows as he walks away, one hand gripping his beer as the other waves over to Jack and company.

i look over just in time to see Ethan, coming to a stop in front of me.

“Luke wants his Team USA hoodie.” he tells me. “he says you have it in your room.”

“oh, yeah, i have that. i’ll get it.” i stand from my seat, walking towards the lake house with Ethan following behind me. once we reach the porch deck, he jogs in front of me, opening the sliding door and letting me walk through first before he closes it again and fast walks towards the stairs, leading me up to my room.

he glances behind him every few seconds, as though making sure i’m still behind him, and i blush under his gaze.

finally reaching my bedroom, i open the door, letting him follow me in as i retrieve the USA Hockey hoodie off of my desk chair.

“here you go.” i spin around, ready to hold it out to him, but he’s already right behind me, a mere foot away.

“i lied.” he confesses, pushing the hoodie away.

“oh-”

“i just really wanted to talk to you alone. and i saw you wearing the hoodie yesterday, so i knew you had it and-”

“you don’t have to explain yourself.” i cut off his ramble, butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to be alone with me.

“i don’t?” he furrows his brows as i throw the no-longer-needed hoodie onto my bed. i shake my head in response.

“no. i wanted to be alone with you too.” i admit, taking a step closer.

“oh, good! so i wasn’t reading you wrong? ‘cause if i was, you can just tell me to fuck off, i promise i won’t be hurt. i mean, okay maybe a little, but-”

“Ethan?” i chime in, stopping him from his nervous ranting.

“yeah?” he takes a step forward, leaving us close enough to touch.

“just kiss me, please?” at my words, he lets out a relieved sigh, nodding his head.

his hands come up to cup my face, pulling my lips to his in a quick but steady motion. our lips connect, his soft and tasting of the watermelon we were all snacking on as the fireworks went off. my hands snake around his neck, raking through the hair at the nape of it. i can feel him shiver as my nails lightly scratch against his scalp, and i smile into the kiss at the effect i’ve proven to have on him.

he pulls away, both of us sucking in a lungful of fresh air before he speaks-

“i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.”

#speak now fic list #ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards blurb #umich hockey #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

[staticnight]

The Boy at the Gala - Bruce Wayne x Male!Reader

This took me ages to do. I've been absolutely swamped lately (plus a lot of unrelated procrastination). This kind of sucks, the pacing is off, and I'm overall not a huge fan of it, but I figured I would just get something out and work on something better rather than worry about it.

pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male Reader genre: fluff? meet cute I guess word count: 1.6K

   You’d never been to a gala before. You’d never even been to a really nice house party. In fact, you haven’t been to many parties at all. Certainly, you weren’t supposed to have been invited to Bruce Wayne’s gala, it must have been a mistake.

   But whatever, you got an invitation - and who were you to decline an opportunity to meet Bruce Wayne? You bought the nicest suit you could reasonably afford, and you headed out. 

   You took a breath, taking a moment to prepare before opening the large doors to Wayne Manor. The large entrance room was full of people mingling, in fancy gowns and suits, drinking expensive wines and spirits. You felt very out of place.

   As you walked through the room, nobody spared you a glance, too busy with whatever it was they were doing. You looked around the room, at the high ceilings and the marble pillars as you moved. How could anybody actually live here?

   You were so distracted by the fact that you were in Wayne Manor, that you failed to notice the large man you were about to walk right into. You stepped on the back of his heel, bringing you back to Earth. 

   “Oh, shit!” You stumble backwards, bumping into another person doing so. The man turns around, looking at you. “Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. You nod and look up at him - your jaw drops a little. Bruce Wayne. The man you bumped into was Bruce Fucking Wayne. 

   After looking at him flabbergasted for a moment, you compose yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, nodding. He nods in return, his eyes drifting to your shoulder.

   “You got some wine on your suit,” he points out, to which your eyes widen. “Fuck,” you mutter, looking at the slight red stain on your shoulder. Your suit is black, so the stain isn’t obvious, but you spent way too much money on this suit to get a wine stain on it.

   Bruce takes a small cloth out of his chest pocket. He raises his hand in the air, calling over a waitstaff. After a moment, the waitstaff arrives, carrying a tray with various shot glasses and a jug of water.

   Bruce presses the cloth on the rim of the jug and turns it upside-down for a brief moment. He then brings it to your shoulder, wiping off the wine. The damp cloth is cold, even through the suit jacket. Even worse than that, Bruce had gotten rather close to you to do this, and you can feel his breath on your neck. Trying your best to ignore it, you bite on the inside of your lip. After what felt like forever, Bruce’s eyes met yours, only for a moment, before he pulled away.

   “I got most of it off,” he says kindly, folding up the cloth and throwing it onto the table behind him. “Your shoulder is damp now though,” he frowns.

   “It’s fine…” you touch your shoulder lightly; it’s a lot wetter than you thought it was. Bruce seems to think for a moment. “Maybe you should take your jacket off for now?” He suggests, his eyes meeting yours again. You think his face is a bit pink, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light. Perhaps you’re projecting, because God knows your own cheeks are starting to burn.

   You remove your jacket, holding it awkwardly. You can’t just tie a suit around your waist, right? There’s a strange silence between you for a few moments before Bruce’s expression quickly shifts. 

   “I forgot to ask your name,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice and face. “Oh, uh,” you hesitate. Does he know the names of his guest list? You aren’t rich, or famous, or related to anybody rich or famous. “My name’s [Name]. I got an invitation,” you respond, adding the last sentence quickly. Which you realised just as quickly was a weird thing to say.

   Bruce gives you a strange look, but only for a second. “Bruce Wayne,” he holds out his hand. He surely knew that you knew he was Bruce Wayne, but you shake his hand and say “Nice to meet you, Mr Wayne,” nonetheless. 

   “Ah, just Bruce is fine,” he smiles. He spends a brief moment just looking at you, but then realises that he’s still holding your hand, not even shaking it. Bruce pulls his hand back. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologises. “Just… zoned out,” he adds.

   You move your jacket into your other, newly freed, hand. “I can have that washed if you’d like?” Bruce asks, looking at the jacket, then back at you. “It’s no problem,” he assures. 

   You nod, “If you’re sure it’s no problem.” He smiles and nods back at you. Bruce puts one hand under the jacket, and the other gently atop your own hand. You look down at your hands, and his hands, feeling your face getting hot. 

   His fingers graze softly over your hands as he pulls his away, turning and giving the jacket to an old man beside him. He says something to him, and you’re only able to make out the words “washed,” and “tomorrow”, but that essentially tells you everything he said anyway. The man gives Bruce a look, before leaving with your jacket.

   “Do you do this for everyone you meet at galas?” You ask jokingly. He shrugs, “Not everyone I meet at galas gets wine on their suit.” You let out a breathy laugh, to which Bruce smiles. 

   “Would you like a drink?” He asks as a waiter with a tray of champagne walks nearby. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink.” Bruce nods and takes two glasses from the tray as he passes by. He hands you a glass. You take it, making sure your hands touch as you do so.

   You clink your glasses together and take a sip.

   “So, [Name],” Bruce starts, “What do you do?” You tilt your head ever so slightly at him. “What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

   “I can’t say I know everybody that attends these galas, but they all do something in particular. Usually businessmen and their trophy wives,” he takes another sip of champagne. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t like you’re the businessman type,” Bruce explains.

   “Do I look like a trophy wife?” You joke, trying to avoid the question that will for sure get you kicked out. Bruce laughs, “I think you could be,” he jokes back. “At least a trophy boyfriend.”

   “Speaking of trophy wives, surely Bruce Wayne has a lovely girl that’s here somewhere?” You ask, half trying to avoid the previous question and half asking if he’s single.

   Bruce looks a bit embarrassed, “No, I don’t.” You refrain from making a face about it, but you can’t deny your surprise. “Yeah, love’s hard,” you shrug as casually as you possibly can.

   The old man comes back, notably without your jacket in hand. “The suit jacket will be washed and ready tomorrow. Would you rather pick it up yourself or have it delivered?” He asks. “Ah, I’ll pick it up if that’s not a problem?”

   The man nods. You really just want another opportunity to be in Wayne Manor, especially if it means talking to its owner again. 

   “Maybe I can get your phone number?” Bruce asks, “To let you know when to pick it up,” he adds quickly, his cheeks pink. You smile, “Yeah, of course, uh,” you check your pockets for something to write on.”

   “Oh, you can just put it on my phone,” Bruce says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it before handing it to you, open on the new contact page.

   You add your number and name (with a <3 next to it for good measure). You hand his phone back to him.

He looks at the screen, a small smile on his face at the heart next to your name. He taps a few more things, and your own phone buzzes in your pocket. 

   You dig it out, checking the notification. A text from an unrecognised number; ‘Hey [Name]’, complete with a heart next to your name the same way you put it in. 

   You smile, and look back up at Bruce, who lets out a small hum. 

   “Y’know, I’d heard you were the cute playboy type, but you're much cuter in person.” You say, vocalising what was in your head. You’d already scored his phone number, so you figured ‘may as well'. Bruce laughs, though his face is undoubtedly pink.

   Turning your attention back to your phone, you add the number to your contacts under the name Bruce, of course with another heart. You have a theme going.

   You struggle to hide your excitement at the fact that Bruce Wayne is in your phone contacts.

   Before you know it, people start to filter out of the building. Neither you nor Bruce had noticed the time passing by, far too enthralled in your own conversation.

   Bruce checks his watch - surely the most expensive watch you've ever seen - “I can't believe it's that late already.”

   You check your own watch - surely a far cheaper watch. Your friend might have even given it to you second-hand - 12:27 am.

   “I should probably get going soon, then, huh.” You frown a little. Spending all night talking to Bruce might be one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

   “Or, you could stay the night?” He suggests. “Since your jacket is here and everything,” he reasons, seemingly to himself more than you. 

   Now your face is most certainly at least a little red. “Well, if you want me to.” Bruce nods, “There's more than enough beds - or room in mine,” he adds the last part quietly.

   The last of the guests are seemingly gone now. 

   Bruce holds out his hand to you. You take it.

   “Lead the way, Bruce.”

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman #batman x reader #batman x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dc #dc x reader #dc x male reader #fanfic

[solarmorrigan]

Howdy! 40. things you interupted me to say, or 6. things you said under the stars and in the grass for Steddie? Your choice!!! (also ty for the ask! I'll get right on it! :D)

Hello! I'm sorry this has taken so long, but I have at last finished! Thank you for sending a prompt, and I hope your new year has been going well :D

Prompt from this list. I chose #40. things you interrupted me to say

-

If there’s one thing Eddie can say for the ostentatious double front doors of Steve’s house, it’s that they’re great for dramatically slamming open when you’re angry and your arms are full of bleeding boyfriend.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Eddie grumbles, dragging Steve over the threshold.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” Steve grumbles right back, halfheartedly shaking the arm that Eddie has in a vice grip. “I didn’t get hit that hard.”

Eddie ignores him. “I swear to god, it’s like you put off a pheromone that makes people want to hit you in the face.”

“Is it working on you right now?” Steve asks as Eddie drags him into the kitchen and shoves him sort-of-gently into leaning against one of the countertops.

“A little bit, yeah!” Eddie snaps.

“Then maybe I should clean myself up,” Steve says; it looks like he’s trying to smirk, but the blood smeared on his chin from the split in his lip is kind of ruining the effect, and Eddie only rolls his eyes as he turns towards the sink.

He knows Steve is trying to make him laugh, trying to get him to lighten up, and usually it would be working, but not this time. This time, Eddie is legitimately pissed, and he’s going to hold onto that.

He’s still going to patch Steve up, obviously, but still. He’s mad.

He pulls the overstocked (actually, adequately stocked, for all the shit they end up going through) first aid kit out from under the sink and then sets to running a kitchen towel under the tap. Behind him, he can hear Steve sigh, but he doesn’t turn to look just yet.

Only when the towel is wet and wrung out does Eddie come back to Steve’s side, swiping the blood off Steve’s chin and then pressing the cloth to his split lip. Steve reaches up to take the towel, freeing up Eddie’s hands to go picking through the first aid kit.

Steve then almost immediately takes the towel away to start speaking, despite the harsh glare Eddie sends his way.

“I’m trying to understand, but I honestly don’t get why you’re so bent out of shape about this,” Steve says. “Like, I’m sorry there was a fight, I know you don’t like that, but it isn’t like I was trying to start anything.”

“Well you weren’t trying not to start anything, either,” Eddie says, pulling the bag of cotton balls from the depths of the kit; he’s not sure how it always ends up at the bottom.

“I was just trying to make that asshole go away. I thought if he just saw you weren’t alone, he’d fuck off. Normally they aren’t brave when they’re not in groups.”

Eddie pauses in wrestling with the cap of the disinfectant to give Steve a flat, sarcastic smile. “Yeah, that worked out real well, didn’t it?”

To Steve’s credit, the guy who’d approached Eddie on the street spitting poison at him about the murder accusations he’d been fully exonerated of had seemed pretty surprised to see Steve step out from around the side of the van. All the same, he hadn’t listened at all to Steve’s firm instructions to walk away, and when he’d tried to further approach Eddie, Steve had stepped between them and given the guy a shove back.

Eddie had known at that moment that they were probably going to have to perform a strategic retreat, but even he hadn’t been expecting the guy’s fist to come flying at Steve as fast as it had.

The ensuing fight had thankfully been short, startled into a stop after no more than a handful of vicious blows when a passerby had started shouting at them, and Eddie had managed to shove Steve into the van and make a quick getaway in the confusion.

“Well at least I’m the only one who got hit,” Steve scoffs. “Between the two of us, I’d rather–”

“Don’t do that,” Eddie cuts in sharply.

Brows furrowed, Steve blinks at Eddie. “Don’t do wh–”

“That’s exactly why I’m pissed off!” Eddie snaps. “You just– you fucking throw yourself between other people and danger like it doesn’t even matter!”

And Steve has the audacity to roll his eyes. “It doesn’t really matter, Eddie.”

“You seriously think that? You think it’s just fine?” Eddie hisses.

“Yes! I think it’s fine, because I’m fine!” Steve gives in to the irritation that’s been edging in since the start of the conversation, snapping back at Eddie. “Nothing that bad ever happens, and I’m standing right here, clearly fine!”

“Oh, you’re fine? This is fine? Standing in the middle of the kitchen bruised and bleeding is fine now?” Eddie demands. “And all those migraines I’ve had a front row seat for, those are fine? And the dizzy spells? And the fact that your vision is so fucked that you need glasses, and you’ve been trying to hide it from the kids by wearing contacts, because you’re clearly fucking fine?”

Eddie can see Steve’s jaw clench, the way he’s biting back an immediate and vicious retort, but Eddie’s not having it. He’s worked up enough that he’s decided they’re hashing this out right the fuck now.

“Answer me, Steve.”

“No. Just drop it, Eddie,” Steve practically growls. “That shit isn’t important, okay? It’s not.”

Somehow Eddie resists the urge to pull his hair out, but he should probably put the bottle of disinfectant down before he squeezes it beyond repair. “What’s more important than your fucking brain?”

“You!”

It’s the loudest Eddie’s ever heard Steve get outside of a life or death situation. It’s certainly the loudest Steve’s ever gotten with him, and it startles Eddie into silence for a short moment.

“You, the kids, Robin – your safety! There is nothing more important,” Steve says firmly, like he’s declaring some kind of universal law. “And I can’t… there isn’t much I can do but put myself between you guys and danger. Sometimes it’s all I can do. So I do it.”

It’s said with such steady conviction that Eddie feels cold; the idea that Steve is so committed – so determined to go down as the shield is terrifying.

And infuriating.

“And just what the fuck are we supposed to do when that strategy costs us you?” Eddie jabs a finger into the middle of Steve’s chest, demanding an answer. “What are we supposed to do without you?”

For the first time since the argument began, Steve looks away. He glances down at the ugly, tiled floor just to the right of Eddie’s sneakers, shaking his head. “C’mon, you guys would get along fine without me.”

“You really think that?” Eddie can’t help the shrill, incredulous laugh that works out of his throat. “You really think we’re that goddamn heartless that we’d just get on fine if you fucking died?”

“No!” Steve’s eyes snap back to Eddie, alarmed. “That’s not– I don’t mean you’d just immediately forget about me or whatever, of course you care, I just… like, you’d be alright. There’s nothing you need me for.”

Eddie steps forward, eliminating almost all the remaining space between them, and reaches up to put his hands on either side of Steve’s face, nearly cradling it. Even now, even bewildered and angry, Steve can’t help but lean into the touch, and Eddie keeps his grip gentle as he announces, “That is bullshit.”

Steve stares at Eddie, more confused than before, maybe a little hurt, but Eddie goes on.

“You think we’d be able to just get over you? That we don’t need you? I’m not sure Henderson would ever fucking recover. Buckley would have a meltdown big enough to take anyone inside a ten mile radius out with her. And I–” Eddie breaks off because he knows he’s tearing up now; he’s always wielded his strong emotions like some kind of superpower, channeling them into making himself a better musician, a better storyteller, a bigger-than-life target that’s harder to take down, but right now he can’t tell if they’re helping make his point or if they’re just making things worse. “I love you so fucking much. And if you just– if you just leave, what hell am I supposed to do with all of that? Where am I supposed to put it?”

“Eddie…”

“I need you here, Steve. Not between me and some asshole townie, but next to me. With me. I need you to make that your priority.” In spite of how tensely he’s holding himself, Eddie’s hands are still gentle on either side of Steve’s face, careful of the cut on his cheekbone that Steve himself never seems to have noticed at all. “Please.”

Slowly, Steve’s hands slide up under Eddie’s jacket and come to rest on his waist, warm through the fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt. “I don’t… know if I know how to do that. I don’t know how to step back,” Steve admits after a minute. “But I can– I can try.”

At some point during their argument, Steve’s lip had split back open, another few fat drops of blood rolling sluggishly down towards his chin, so Eddie tilts to the side a little as he leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth.

They stand that way for longer than Eddie really cares to count, nearly nose to nose, existing in each other’s space because they can, before Eddie kisses Steve again and pulls away.

“Alright, we’re gonna patch you up for real this time, and then we’re gonna make sure you’re not concussed.”

Steve rolls his eyes, though he’s barely more than exasperated. “I’m pretty sure I’d know if I had a concussion, man. I’m some kind of expert by now.”

“Yeah, well, humor me,” Eddie says, taking the bottle of disinfectant back up and hunting for another cotton ball.

“Okay, but I don’t have a concussion.”

“That’s just what a person with a concussion would say.”

“No, a person with a concussion would say ‘I think I might have a concussion,’ and then throw up on an EMT.”

A sharp laugh barks out of Eddie’s chest, real and startled, and he looks over at Steve. “You didn’t.”

“Post-Starcourt. Truly my finest moment,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that lands leagues short of dignified, and Eddie laughs again.

They go through cleanup process in silence after that, no longer angry, not bitter, but tired and a little uncertain.

“What do you want to do after this?” Steve finally asks when they pack away the medical supplies.

Eddie shrugs. Before shit had gone down, they’d been planning to get dinner and then maybe swing by the video store to pester Robin and rent something for the night. Their evening is wide open, now. “Dunno. You have anything in mind?”

“Honestly? I’m tired. I kind of just want to lie down.” Steve says, and Eddie’s eyes cut back to him sharply; it takes a lot to get Steve to admit he’s anything less than ready to go at all times.

“Okay…” Eddie says. “D’you… want me to go, or–”

“I want you to lie down with me,” Steve says, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand, as if Eddie’s about to run off. “I just… want to be with you a while.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. “Yeah. We can do that.”

Steve’s answering smile is small, a tired thing trying not to tug on the barely-formed scab in his bottom lip, but it’s there, and Eddie’s pretty sure he loves it just for that.

#homosexual-having-tea #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

  “This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel. 

  Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years. 

  You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear. 

  “I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.” 

  Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life. 

  “I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly. 

  One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most  beautiful girl, you know that right?”

  Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

  “..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

  His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him. 

  His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

  “You ready, baby?” 

  For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold. 

——

  Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck. 

  The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

   “high risk” 

“Possible death during childbirth” 

  He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly. 

  He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

  He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone. 

  Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson. 

  His mother. 

His child.

  It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

  What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath? 

  Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.  

  What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under. 

  His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell. 

  He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

  His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”. 

  His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep. 

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.” 

  Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver. 

  Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there. 

  Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

  When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered. 

  A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room. 

  “She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

  Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.” 

  He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

  Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.  

  “Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

  “Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.” 

  Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

  He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child. 

  Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

  “No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

  “Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

  Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

  “That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

  Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

  “You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.” 

  The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains. 

  Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable. 

  Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition. 

  Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers. 

  “The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

  “…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.” 

  The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

  The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy. 

  You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land. 

  But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality. 

  Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face. 

  Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him. 

  You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him. 

  He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same? 

  The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever. 

  The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him. 

  —

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too. 

  “I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt. 

  Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.” 

  Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud. 

  The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself. 

  That was when the nightmares started. 

  —

  “She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults. 

  Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

  Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

  “So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

  Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.” 

  “Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

  Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

  His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity. 

  “Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.” 

  An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.” 

  He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting. 

  “Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

  “I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist. 

  No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes. 

  Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

  “No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

  Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand. 

  He’d take care of you just like he promised.

  Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

  —

  The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would. 

  After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

  Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain. 

  The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both. 

  And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day. 

  When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

  Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly. 

  A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?” 

  He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did. 

  An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

  His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm. 

  He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you. 

  The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night. 

  Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night. 

  And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours. 

  “You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around  to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.” 

  The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.” 

  You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror. 

  The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

  “My girl,” he promised. 

  The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again. 

  —

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?” 

  The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner. 

  A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

  Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.” 

  “You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip. 

  He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.” 

  “I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

  “She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.” 

  The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

  Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside. 

  He loved you, and you loved him. End of story. 

  Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration. 

  Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?” 

  Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could. 

  You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss. 

  An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.” 

  Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.” 

  Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.” 

  You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated. 

  — 

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in. 

  He was a saint. 

  He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you  as he pulled you deeper into him.

  Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately. 

  Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

  His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.” 

  You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?” 

  “Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.” 

  Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep. 

  But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed.  Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons. 

  The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life. 

  The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes. 

  “Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head. 

  You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes. 

  “We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.” 

  Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.” 

  The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

  The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips. 

  To hell and back. 

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

[fictarian]

Hobie w/ an equally as punk reader? <3 🤘🎸

𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟔

ღ Of course! I apologize if there are issues with this fic, because i’m not very familiar with the style despite trying to learn about it 😭 Fun facts and criticism is VERY MUCH appreciated in the comments, so don’t be afraid to comment

ღ Gang we’re like 21 followers away from 100… i’m shivering in boots ‼️‼️ Tysm for following me omg

ღ Here’s a couple headcannons for if Hobie was with a punk partner (relationship goals, shout out to all my punk lovers I aspire to be like you)

ღ Paring: Hobie Brown and a GN! Punk reader 🙏

ღ Previous part can be found here !

• Whenever the two of you go out together, you always make an effort to go to your local record store. It has become a tradition between you and Hobie to buy two records (preferably of a song that the other hasn’t listened to or knows about) each and gift them to the other at the end of the trip. This helps broaden your guys’ music taste, introduce each other to a new possible favorite band, and just be a bonding experience all together

“The Skids?” You question while looking down at the album in your hands, intrigued by the vibrant colors on the cover. Hobie only nods his head, looking down at the records you had gotten for him. “Mhm, one of my favorites. You’ll like it luv, I promise.”

• No matter what either of you say, you and Hobie are both history nerds. Especially about punk history. So there’s no doubt that whenever you both are on call or are just relaxing in your room in silence, one of you are bound to start a conversation with a history fact. And for the next couple of hours, you’ll both be ranting and exchanging facts to each other

• Since you guys have practically the same style, you often find yourself taking some of Hobie’s jackets, pins, jewelry, etc. Hobie doesn’t mind, in fact, it gets his heart racing whenever he sees you in something that belonged to him at one point (let’s be fr, he isn’t gonna get shit back). So don’t be surprised when you catch him leaning against the doorway to your room, watching you try on one of his leather jackets or ripped jeans with a small smirk and a blush coating his face 🤭

“Y’know, it’s rude to stare” “I just can’t ‘elp it luv, not when something so pretty is right ‘front of me” Hobie cooed, causing you to blush from the tone of his voice. “Whatever…”

• You’re Hobie’s #1 hype person during the concerts he participates in (he doesn’t like consistency, so obviously he switches it up a lot and plays with different bands). This makes him go absolutely WILD. Just seeing you go full on crazy and vibe to the song he’s playing makes him 🥺. Hobie makes it a requirement for you to go to every one of his gigs, which obviously, you don’t mind at all

• You always get a front row view during his concerts, no questions asked. While you’re jamming away to the song his band is performing, Hobie is staring directly at you (somehow managing to not mess up his playing). And when you notice this and finally meet his gaze, the bastard doesn’t even look the least bit shamed or embarrassed. He even sends you a wink, making you the embarrassed one instead

• Hobie dedicates songs to you. Hell, bro will full on WRITE songs for you. He just loves you so much, and wants to show you that in a form that you both bond over constantly every single day. And when Hobie does dedicate a song to you, he makes it very clear to the audience. This makes you want to stomp on him with your platform boots, but it also makes you want to pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him all over his face

“This one is for my arsekicker, _____. Didn’t tell em I was gonna do this before ‘and, since they would ‘ave done just that.” Hobie announced, meeting your sharp glare with a wink and his usual smug smirk. You shook your head, feeling your face burn as the band started to play.

tag list ! @zalayni @luvstarrstruck @jrrantss @pixqlsin @kairiscorner @k4tsu3 @asmobeuses

#across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader #headcannons #atsv headcanons #hobie headcanons #punk