#uh but I didn’t see if I could find what color those were

[dreamingofbucky]

IS IT TOO LATE?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: He casted you back to your universe. But now he's back and you don't know why. you thought he hated you for the longest time. But that's furthest from the truth.

tags/content warnings: very much angst. heart strings will be pulled at. consensual smut. p in v. love confessions. soft!miguel. fangs are used for pleasure. begging. size kink. praise, like tons of it. mig and reader healing themselves together.

Word Count: 4.2k (whoops)

author’s note: not beta read. mild midnight miguel thots. more angst though with a very happy ending. idk i was in my feelings lol

You could sense him close to you. You always did, even despite your spider senses.

It was like he’s infected himself into you even years later, unable to get him out of your system.  

You were in your kitchen, putting away some dishes when you got the feeling of him being near. It was like a prickle at your neck that grew and grew until every hair on your body rose. You whipped your head around the kitchen and narrowed your eyes to find him. You couldn’t though, he was always good at hiding himself. 

“Miguel?” Your voice drifted throughout your apartment. It fell flat though and a sigh wringed out of your throat once you realized he wasn’t there anymore. 

But then your spine stiffened to its own accord and you whipped your head this time toward the hallway. You grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands before you made your way. You weren’t on guard, but you kept the towel on your shoulder just in case. Your spider strength would probably work just fine, but you didn’t know what he’d want. 

“Miguel? I know you’re here, somewhere,” you called out again with more tenacity in your voice. 

There was a creak in the living room and you increased your pace until you were at the entrance, flicking on the light that flooded the room. He wasn’t hiding. He was in the corner, staring at a photo on top of your fireplace. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, fingers reaching for the towel on your shoulder. 

His broad shoulders slumped for a moment before he finally turned. He was in his blue and red suit, the one you knew very well. He looked better than the last time you saw him. His face though, was contorted in an expression you couldn’t read. 

“I–uh, I’m not sure why I came,” he finally mumbles. 

You take a step forward and tread lightly. It’s been four years, so you really didn’t know why he came. This was his decision anyway, to leave you and keep you at a distance. 

“It’s been years,” you remind him. He finally turns completely and his brown eyes gleam red a little and then fade back to the rich color you once loved. 

The man you once swore you loved forever, until he didn’t. Your heart tugged at the memories of what you and Miguel had. Attempting to push those thoughts away to keep yourself from spiraling like before, you clear your throat. 

He finally replies. “I had to see you.” 

No reason. Nothing else. Just those five words. 

You take another step forward and he does too.

“You can’t just come here without an explanation,” you pushed. Your irritation was starting to increase and your patience was starting to thin for your ex. 

Miguel is quiet as he stays grounded. But your senses heightened when he lifted his hand and turned his wrist toward you. Before you could react in time, a bright orangish red web shot out of his wrist and latched onto your chest. You grunt as he pulls you into him, closing the distance. You grab the string of the web and pull it off your shirt, but it's stuck. 

“Miguel,” you bite. A smile curls at his lips before a talon comes out of his pointer finger and he snips the web. 

“Sorry,” he breathes. 

“You’re here, because?” You press again. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you were hoping he’d tell you what he needed you for.

“Spider Society misses you.” 

Oh. You weren’t expecting that. 

“I’m sure they do,” you quip. 

It wasn’t your choice to leave them. To go back to your universe and live out your days. It was Miguel who pushed you to this point. 

You even got engaged two years ago to who you thought you could live the rest of your days with. And then things took a turn. Things didn’t work out. He felt like you were stunted by him in this universe. Although you still did your best to be the Spider-Woman your universe needed, it wasn’t enough. 

It was like the action of Miguel casting you out back to your universe made you lose your spark. Made you less of who you were meant to be. 

You hate him for it. Well, you did the first year before you started to make a life for yourself here. It didn’t work out, obviously. 

The thing was, you never really understood why Miguel did what he did. It was so quick, so sudden, casting you out. You thought you were doing well in Spider Society. You made friends, you aced missions. So what did you do wrong? You even loved him to your best ability. 

Was it because you couldn’t put universes first before anyone else in your life? Miguel was so bent up on the idea that sacrifices had to be made when it came to being Spider-Man. Guess that included you. 

You were a sacrifice he had to make for a reason you still didn’t know. 

“Just wanted to check in, see how you were,” he says in an almost whisper. He drops his gaze to your lips and you gulp. No, you couldn’t feel like this for him. Not anymore. 

You lift your hand and press your palm to his chest. He looks at it before his brows furrow. His hand then reaches over and caresses yours. His fingers fiddle with your ring finger. 

“Your ring, what happened? Where is it?” 

You sigh, attempting to turn on your heel and get away from him but his fingers move to your wrist to keep you there. You knew he’d know about you getting engaged. You got your spider senses alerted whenever he was near the first two years you were gone. You knew he was checking up on you frequently. Until he stopped. He didn’t know the engagement was broken off and you lived alone in that small apartment. 

“Miguel, let me go.”

He doesn’t budge, so you press your other palm against his chest for leverage but he doesn’t move an inch. Your emotions are getting heightened from it all and you can feel tears start to spring into your eyes. You feel pathetic. 

“What happened?” He repeats, his eyes turning soft and curious. 

“Nothing happened. You happy?” 

“No–” he shakes his head. “Tell me.” 

You sigh, not wanting to fight with him. You had years of it when he started becoming too focused on stopping Spider people from disrupting their canon events. Those fights ended up pushing you both to a point that couldn’t be turned back around. 

“Miguel, I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day. It’s late.” 

“Dime qué pasó,” he almost pleads. 

Well, if it made him let you go then you had no other choice. You took a deep breath and stared at him. You needed him to know what he did and how it resulted with you no longer having an engagement ring. 

“He left me, Miguel. Does that make you happy? He saw how much I couldn’t handle being so far away from my people. From my friends. From you. He saw how it ruined my life being stuck here. I tried so hard to fake it until I was happy, but he saw through it all. He loved me so much that he let me go. Unlike someone who casted me out–” 

“I didn’t cast you out because I didn't love you,” he interrupts with a growl. His face leans closer and your core flutters. 

Fuck, your body could still react to him like no time has passed. 

“We were young,” you argue. “That wasn’t love, the longer I had time apart to contemplate it. We were simply infatuated, but that wasn’t love.” 

“It was for me, sabes esto.” 

“No, it wasn’t Miguel,” you bite. 

Miguel is silent, dropping his hand. You take a step back, a deep breath leaving your lips. His own shoulders move softly with his breathing. Some of the strands of hair at the top of his head fall over his temple and forehead. You want to so desperately lift a hand and brush them back in place. But that's not something you can do anymore. 

You take another step back, finding yourself sitting on your couch. You placed your elbows on your knees and took a deep breath. You heard his footsteps follow and he knelt down, placing a finger under your chin and lifted you enough to see him. To look at his eyes that are yearning for you to speak to him. 

“Mira, I lied. They didn’t miss you. I did. I stopped checking in on you to give you space. To move on.” 

You scoff. “You can see how well that worked out.” You lift your naked ring finger to make a point. 

“I needed to see you one last time.” 

This brought you to straighten your spine and look at him with widened eyes. “Last time?” 

He nods. 

“What do you mean, Miguel?” 

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not going to check in on you ever again. You won’t be bothered by me. I’m taking some space from Spider Society as well. They’re better off anyway.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. He was going to demote himself from the society he created for us? One of the best places you’ve been able to call home for years. You missed it dearly, you couldn’t deny that. 

“You can’t just leave them. They need you.” 

Miguel’s eyes cast down and this time it’s you bringing a hand under his chin and lifting enough for him to look at you. You scoot a little closer to him where your knees brush. A fire burns in your belly. 

“They don’t. I hurt people. I hurt you. I need space and time before I can come back and delegate again. I took things too far.” 

“So you’d rather disappear than try to fix things? Did you ever plan to allow me back to Spider Society?” 

He shakes his head. “I thought you’d be content here with him. You seemed so happy.” 

You laugh. “That wasn’t happy, Miguel. That was coping.”

His thick brows furrow. “No, you were happy.” 

“Are you trying to convince yourself? Are you really trying to control the truth? I wasn’t happy. I thought I could play along with this life to deal with everything. I was in survival mode. It was purely a facade. Imagine being introduced to a safe haven and then being stripped of all access to it and its people. That’s what happened to me. I had no choice but to try to make a life for myself here.” 

Miguel is quiet for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His forehead wrinkles as he thinks deeply. 

“This would be easier if I hated you.” He finally mutters. 

Now you’re the one raising a brow. “Excuse me?” 

“Call this an atonement,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, but I’m not sure bringing you back would fix things. What happened can’t be undone.” 

“I never asked for you to fix it. I’ve learned how to make this my home. It was a home before I got my Spider abilities and it could be my home after.” 

“But you’re not happy. You just said so yourself,” he counters.

You huff out a breath, exhausted at all of this back and forth. Why was he really here? If he wanted to see you one last time he could’ve done that without making himself known. He could’ve creeped in the shadows to do it. 

“What do you want?” The words are sharp and roll off your tongue like venom. His hands raise and rest on your knees. He’s still kneeling and he scoots closer. A hand travels up your thigh and you suck in a breath. 

“One last time,” he repeats so softly you almost miss it. 

“We already had our one last time,” you say quietly. You remember that last time you felt him near you. That was when you truly thought that was the last time you’d feel him in your universe. 

“No, bebita,” he responds gruffly. “I need you one last time.” 

His words aren’t registering in your brain. 

“You made it very clear you didn’t need me.” 

“Will you let me finish?” His eyes connect with yours and your heart thumps loudly against your chest. 

“Finish then,” you push. 

“It’s easier to hate you because then I could move on. I never did, bebita.” The nickname rolls off his tongue in a way that makes your core flutter and you clench your thighs. 

“I–” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“Casting you out was the worst thing I did. I couldn’t take it back, my pride wouldn’t let me. I loved you so much, but I couldn’t say it. It was always on the tip of my tongue. You were it for me, bebita. It crushed me even more to see you making a life for yourself here. Finding a partner to be with, that was the worst of it. It took me months to deal with that one. But I couldn’t risk losing you to the things we did for the universes we saved. Pushing you away was the hardest thing to do, but the safest. If I didn’t have you to sacrifice in life or death situations, then that's what I had to do. I couldn’t lose you in those ways, I just couldn’t.” 

His confession brings tears to your eyes and you wrap your hands around his neck. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. You take a deep breath and he does too. Soon, your breathing becomes sync with his. 

“You hurt me,” was all you could say. 

“I know, bebita, I know. I’m so sorry. I loved you–I love you so much. It felt like the only way I wouldn’t lose you.” 

“But you ended up losing me anyway in the process,” you remind him. He nods. 

“I lost you anyway. Please forgive me. Or did I come at the wrong time where that’s not possible? Is it too late?” 

You contemplate it for a moment. You hurt for so long with his decision, but now you know why. He did it because he loved you so much. It reminded you of your ex-fiance. He broke things off because he loved you and wanted you to find your true happiness. He knew it wasn’t with him as much as he wanted it to be. 

Funny how it’s the same concept with Miguel, but not quite. Miguel’s way was harsher and broke you. But he’s here now apologizing and on his knees. 

All the feelings of your life with Miguel come back surfacing. The good and the bad. But he was the best thing in your life. 

“And what would we do after this? Would you just leave and never see me again? After everything that’s been said?” 

He grabs your cheeks and pushes you back a little. His face is pained as he thinks of a response. He leans in, kissing your forehead before kissing your nose and then your cheeks. “I don’t know anymore. Lyla asked me the same thing.” 

You smiled softly. “Lyla… I missed her.” 

Miguel smiled as well, tears in his eyes. “She misses you everyday. She might be the reason why I came tonight.”

“I’m glad, then,” you say. This brings another smile to his face and your heart warms. Your whole body warms. 

“Miguel,” you whisper. He leans in again, pressing his lips to your nose. You inhale his scent for a moment. 

“I can’t repair what’s been done.” 

“You can’t,” you concede. “But we can take it day by day.” 

“Really?” He says with a little happier tone. 

You nod. “But you can’t do that again. Don’t push me away. Don’t make me think you hate me. That I was the worst thing in your life.” 

A sob pulls through you and tears cascade down your cheeks. Miguel is quick to brush them away with his thumbs. He finally brushes his lips against yours and you stiffen at the movement. 

“Can I?” He asks softly. 

Instead of answering, you lean in to close the distance. His lips were soft and the memories of kissing him all over filled your senses. Your body still craved him, you just pushed those feelings as down as you could. 

He continues to kiss with passion, like a man starved. His tongue presses against your teeth and you part your mouth, allowing him inside. He groans a little at the feeling and a moan escapes your own lips. 

“Let me make it up to you, por favor,” he asks, moving his hands to your thighs and running them up until they find your hips. You hitch your breath at the feeling and you nod. 

“It won’t make up for all these years, but you can try,” you say with a little spite and a little tease. Something in you wanted him to work for it. You couldn’t just forgive this easily, he had to know how much you hurt all this time. 

“I’ll live the rest of my days making it up to you then, bebita,” he kisses you once more before moving his hands from your hips to your backside. He pulls you hard closer to him before you’re straddling your hips. You squeal from the sudden movement and then he rises. He starts to walk as you continue to kiss, as if he mesmerized the layout of your apartment from his check-ins. This brought another flutter to your core and you needed him in more ways than one. 

He enters your bedroom and plops you on the bed softly. You shift yourself up to the pillows and he climbs the bed alongside you. Your hands come up to his hair, making their home in his strands as he continues to attack you with kisses. He moves his lips to your neck and you moan loudly, bucking your hips up. He groans from the sounds. 

“Bite me,” you plead through breaths. 

“Estás seguro?” he asks, lifting his lips from your neck for a brief second. You push his head back down to your bare skin and nod. 

“Yes, please, Mig. Bite me like you used to. Fuck me like you used to. Make me whole again,” you plead. You can’t help the tears that come back to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. He doesn’t notice though, which you’re grateful for. 

He obliges though, kissing your neck and then you feel something piercing you. His fangs sink into your skin and it feels wet instantly. You moan through it, leaning down to bite his own neck. 

“F-fuck,” he moans once his fangs pull out. He lifts his head to look at you and it’s like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. His eyes light up and then turn into a feral thing you were so used to in the past. 

Miguel knew how to be gentle with you when he could, but you always noticed the way his eyes would turn red with a primal need to love you until you were thrashing and screaming his name, clenching around him. 

You needed him to go that far. You wanted him to. 

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper finally. 

His eyes search yours before he nods and snakes his hand under your hair and wraps his fingers around the strands until he can pull your neck the other way. He leans in and you feel that pain again as he sinks his fangs into the other side of your neck. Your hips buck up again and you gasp. 

“Smell so good, taste so good,” he murmurs. His lips travel lower, kissing your collarbone. He helps you out of your mundane clothes before you’re lying naked in front of him. With a press of his watch on his wrist, his suit pixelates into nothing until he’s there naked over you. You forgot for a moment his suit does that. 

“Please, Mig,” you say in deep breaths as you feel his erection pressing against your hip. You reach down blindly, feeling for his cock and then caressing it in up and down motions. He groans through this and curses under his breath, jutting his hips further into your hand. 

“Need you,” he pleads. 

“You have me,” you assure him. 

He lifts himself on his knees which causes your hands to fall from his cock. He then begins to stroke himself and you spread your legs around him. His eyes glance down at your core and your cheeks heat. 

“So fucking pretty and wet already for me, bebita. Just like I knew you’d be.” 

You just nod as you stay transfixed on him, rubbing his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance. You didn’t care for him to prep you, you needed him now. 

“It’s going to hurt, tell me to stop if you–” 

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. You made a point by reaching down and grabbing his wrist around his cock and aligning yourself with his tip. You pressed his tip against your fold and you both gasped. You shut your eyes briefly at the wonderful sensation. 

He always fucked you so well, that was something you missed. And now he was here, doing just that. 

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” he grunts as he presses himself into you, inch by inch. 

The pain soared throughout your body with each inch, but you didn’t care. You finally had him again and your cunt clenched around him. He moaned at the movements, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

When he finally pressed into you all the way, you both took deep breaths. He leaned in, pressing his palms into the mattress to support himself. He shifted a little, moving inside you and you whined. 

“So big,” you gasped. 

“You can take it, bebita,” he cooed. “You always did so good for me, you can do it again. Okay?” 

You nod, biting your lip as he moved his hips to slowly pull out of you and then he slammed back in, causing you to shift up on the bed from his strength. He curses under his breath again and you whine at the stretch of him. His girth was bigger than you remembered and you swore he was splitting you in half, but you loved it. 

“More, more,” you begged and he obliged. He snapped his hips back and forth into you, earning a cry from your lips at each thrust. 

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he groans as his hips start to grow sloppy. He was getting closer to his release and you were too. 

Your core tightened and your pussy clenched around his cock in a beautiful way. 

“So close,” you mumbled through his thrust. 

“Come with me, bebita,” he says before leaning down, sinking his fangs into your neck once more. This makes all your sensations come alive and you can’t hold back anymore. Your legs wrap around his waist, causing him to push deeper into you and hitting the best parts. 

“I’m going to–” you screamed before you felt everything explode. You saw stars, your body was shaking, and he was holding onto your tightly. He dropped his head into the crevice of your neck and muttered nonsense as he came right after you. Rope after rope of his cum filled you up and you clenched around him even more, milking his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as his hips stuttered and he collapsed over you. “Please don’t do that, not gonna last the night.” 

You giggled, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. You both breathed intensely but you were so fucking happy. 

“I love you, bebita,” he finally says, lifting himself to look at you. He wipes a strand of hair that was stuck on your forehead. You grab his face and kiss him. He moans deeply and his cock twitches inside you. 

You squirm underneath him. “I love you too, Miguel. Always have, always will.”

He kisses you back with more passion. “You mean it?” 

You nod and laugh as he tickles your side. You try to squirm away, but it’s hard with his cock still in you. Your pussy flutters around him again and he groans. “Bebita, that will only make me go for another round.” 

“I know,” you confess with a smile. 

You had years of catching up to do, anyways. You didn’t plan to leave that bed anytime soon. 

Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around you before flipping you both over. His back plopped on the bed and you were straddling him above, your head laying on his chest. 

“You don’t have to ever forgive me,” he whispers, stroking your bare back. “But I hope you give me the time to make it up to you.” 

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. He cranes his neck to look down at you. 

“It’s not too late,” you finally answer and those words were all he needed to hear.

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse #spiderman #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction

[malfoyfarms]

She Wanted You

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Word Count:1.4k

Warnings:none

A/n: angst bc im boycotting watching season three LOL, not my gif

“What do you mean she left?” JJ questioned, dumbfounded. He didn’t realize it, but he was walking into a war zone. The Chateau no longer had the same feel. It was like someone sucked the air out, and pumped smog in. 

With tears in his eyes, John B pointed towards his sister’s room. Sarah and Pope were lingering in there, but JJ had no idea why. The room was oddly neat, incredibly out of character of the girl who resided there. Her closet was emptier than usual, the three picture frames that once had pictures of her with her family and friends were empty. What caught JJ’s eyes next, made his mouth go dry. His breath was no longer there. The navy sweatshirt he had given her years ago was folded, on the bed, next to the pillow he always claimed during their relationship. Atop the sweatshirt was a ring from a gumball machine, an orange and green friendship bracelet made of paracord, and a pile of notes written on scraps of random papers. Every other personal belonging was missing from its spot. 

JJ tore through the girl’s nightstand, and when he realized the box of her life savings was gone, he let out a string of colorful words and kicked the stand.

“Here, you should read this.” Sarah handed him a neatly written note. By the tear stains on Pope’s face, the somber tone from the kook, and JB’s raging anger, it was a farewell. 

He took a deep breath, and swiped the letter from Sarah. The familiar handwriting was already pulling at his heart.

J,

I’ve rewritten this letter four times already, and I still don’t know how to put my thoughts into actual words. Firstly, I love you. I love you until the waves stop coming in. I love you so much that I knew I needed to leave. I’ve known since you wandered home with John B in third grade, and gave me all the answers (even though they were wrong) to my math homework that if there was going to be another boy in my life, he was going to have to fight you for that spot. From 7 years old, I only ever wanted you. But over the last two years, I can see that I’m not the one for you. And that is why I’m leaving. One of the only things that got me through my day was seeing you smile, but I understand that there is someone else who causes those crinkles by your eyes.

I have to leave because it’s too painful. I need time to have all your kisses leave my body, I need to leave because I can’t smell the ocean, listen to Akon and Konvict, or even wash my fucking clothes without thinking of you. I see you in body language, in the waves, in every damn aspect of my life. Not only are we ingrained on this island, but you are ingrained in me. If I’m ever going to come home I need to remove every trace. 

I told you last week, I’d always be on your team, even from a distance. I need you to pursue Kiara because there is nothing more I want for you than happiness. Deep down, I know it will always be her. While that sentence feels like a shot, I’m coming to terms with it. 

Don’t try to come find me, either. I won’t be going to any of the places we’ve ever talked about, I do have my secrets still. Not Yucatan, not Tybee, and certainly not Jekyll. Take care of my brother.

All my love, 

Y/N

“When did you and Y/N break up?” Sarah asked. JJ couldn’t even think straight. Y/N and the boy broke up about a week ago, for that specific reason, JJ thought there was something there with Kiara. He didn’t think the girl would pick up her stuff and bolt. Leave her brother, her best friends, and the life she claimed to love. 

“I, uh, initiated it last week or so,” he stuttered, “it wasn’t definite or anything, but it was insinuated I guess. We had a conversation about it, but I don’t think I ever could have said it out loud.”

“Oh,” she thought. “You know she really loved you with every bone in her body.”

He sucked in a deep breath to try to keep his tears at bay. How could he walk out to the front room and face John B. He was the reason the youngest Routledge had left. With Big John gone, she was all he had left. Hell, with Luke gone, she was all JJ had too. In some form he robbed his friends of a family member. 

JJ laid down on the neatly made bed and latched onto the sweatshirt that smelled just like her. His memory flooded with images of Y/n in that sweatshirt. From it covering her bikini when they went night swimming, it being the one sweatshirt that was specifically for after she came home from school, the one thing that grounded her when she was having a rough day. JJ felt his chest start to tighten, and his hands were clammy and shaking. 

“I thought you said you’d never break her heart!” JB screamed. Impeccable timing. 

“John B don’t–” Sarah tried to interject.

“No Sarah, he promised. He promised me almost three years ago that if I gave him permission to date Y/n, he wouldn’t hurt her. He knew he’d be breaking more than just her heart. And now I can’t even help her pick up the pieces. I can’t fix my baby sister, the way she fixed each and every one of us!” 

“Bro, you think this is what I wanted? I had a conversation with her. Nothing was definitive. It’s not my fault she took her shit and ran!”

“When has Y/n ever not taken her feelings and ran? Name one time!”

JJ sat there in thought, and there had been one time she didn’t run, and he had promised that he wouldn’t tell. He was going to anyway.

“When you disappeared. I held her while she cried herself to sleep for nights on end. So don’t act like I never treated her right. You know I did.” JB ran his hands through his hair and left the room. 

“Until you decided you may have feelings for the girl who is like her big sister.” That stung. 

“What’s going on?” Kie asked.

“She’s gone.” John B said. “‘Cuz JJ’s in love with you.”

~~

JJ sat in the hammock, wearing the navy sweatshirt he hadn’t worn in years. It smelled just like her. He could even feel the marks of where she rolled the sleeves and dug her thumbs into the side. 

He barely remembered last week’s conversation about Kie, but never did he think that it would cause you to disappear. Y/n was so incredibly loyal. She wanted him. Every. Damn. Day. She wanted him when the clouds were out, and the usually blue sky was gray. She wanted him when he was bruised and beat up, she wanted him when he was crabby after a 14 hour shift, she wanted him at every hour of the day in any way she could have him. 

It was just a conversation, he thought. He never flat out said that he was leaving her for the tanned, wealthy kook. 

He felt so fucking stupid. He felt so much self-hatred. He remembered when they were 12 and 14, and Y/n wanted to walk to the gas station a few streets over, but John B wouldn’t go with her. He remembered what she usually bought. Peach iced tea, sour straws and a bag of munchie mix. Every single time. 

He remembered when the girl got drunk for the first time and dialed him to come get her. God, she was so inebriated. She clung to the boy, giggling profusely. That was the first night she ever told the boy she loved him. Y/n never knew it, but JJ kept that memory locked in his head. 

He pondered the time she was ready to give him her virginity. He remembered how nervous she was, but how much she trusted him. 

It had grown dark by the time he wandered back into the Chateau. He was surprised JB didn’t kick him out, he fully expected to be out on the streets by now. As he stumbled towards the bedrooms, he went past his own, and fully dove into the light purple sheets he had come to love. She’ll come back, he thought. She has to.

#jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #hms pogue

[thegreatestsandwich]

I just saw black panther and let me tell you that I fell in love with Namor and everytime he appeared on screen I was screaming internally, I was wondering if you could write something silly like the reader gives him a rock every time she sees him because on a trip to the surface she saw a couple giving each other gifts and hugging at the end and she thought a rock was the equivalent of that, please please please

I can’t speak, afraid to jinx it (Namor x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: A tiny gift that almost drove him to madness.

Warning: Prepare yourself to be attacked with fluff

A/N: At this point, I think I'm really in love with Tenoch, you feel me?

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

Namor was beginning to noticing this strange thing about you, no matter where he was or what was he doing, if you passed him you would stop and give him a small rock with a huge smile on your face.

It had started the moment you first were put in charge with helping him recollect a few things from the sinking boat that was closer to his city. Namor was waiting for you at the borders, his hands on his back as his eyes were looking at the calmness of the waters when he heard you humming a soft tune as you approached. He turned around and watched you struggle with at least ten bags on your arms. When he told you that he needed you to bring a few bags to carry the stuff, he was imagining you would bring two, not ten. He couldn’t help but smile at your determination.

“K'eeban tumen k'uchul chúunk'iin!” Sorry for being late! You quickly swam to his side, his eyes watching curiously as you tried to suppress your labored breaths. “Utia'al u completamente honesto, k'uchen tu k'iinili' ba'ale' in distraje.” To be completely honest, I was on time but I got distracted. You cheekily smiled. “Ya'ab in wu'uyik K’uk’ulkan.” I’m really sorry.

“English.” He told you once again and had to bit his tongue to suppress his laughter when you huffed. “You asked me to teach you and I am doing that.”

“Stupid English.” You muttered under your breath. Your hands quickly adjusted the bags on your shoulder. “Can we just go?” Your hand motioned the waters. “I do not want to be there when is dark, sharks bite then.”

Namor held out his hand so you could give him a few bags but you held them closer to you. “Let me help you, and sharks do not bite if you do not annoy them.” He managed to take a few bags from you, adjusting them at his shoulder and began to swim.

You gasped at his words and at his actions. “Sharks do bite! One bit me a few days ago on my leg, I have a scar to prove it…you even saw it, you said it was amazing.”

“Those words have never left my mouth.” Namor was smiling at your tantrum but managed to hide it as his face never left the waters.

“Uh, yes they have.” You managed to caught up with him, swimming at his side. You noticed his smile. “What are we recollecting?”

“Whatever we find useful.” He stated as que stopped, you following suit. “I will check if there are threats, stay here.” Namor didn’t wait for your answer as he quickly swam away, leaving you there with all the bags once again.

You huffed but decided to listen to him, your eyes looking at everything that surrounded you, there were a few fishes out there, thankfully no sharks, the corals looked bright and the sand too inviting to lay just there. But then you saw it, it was shiny and a beautiful turquoise color, you quickly tried to find Namor but he was still away, you bit your lip in concentration and decided to just go for it.

Your hands quickly grabbed the tiny and shiny object, your thumb carefully swiping away any left-over sand, your eyes widening before quicky putting it inside of one of the bags and swam to where Namor was calling you.

As you would expected, the recollection of things from that boat was completely boring, your eyes often diverting towards Namor, you admitted that he looked quite good, completely concentrated in this activity. When he was completely secure that there wasn’t anything more to salvage, he nodded at you and both of you left.

Namor took the bags from you when he left you at your home, you bit your lip and without thinking you grabbed his arm. He looked at you in confusion.

“I have a gift.” You quietly said. Your hands fumbled with one of the bags that you refused to give him. Finally retrieving the tiny rock. “Found it there, I think you will love it.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes following your hands as they put the rock on his palm and close his fingers against it. You gave him a last smile before entering your home and leaving him there, watching at the door.

And so it began.

Every single time you saw him, you always gave him a rock, it didn’t matter the size, the color or the weight, you always gave him one. At first he was confused at why you were giving them to him but he began appreciate them after you failed to give him one after one day.

He was swimming with Attuma at his side, the later telling him about the improvements they were making with the protection of the barriers, Namor was glad that everything was going within the plan.

“Táan in planeando bisik u kantúulo'on ti' leti'ob utia'al inspeccionar u máquina u kajnáalilo'ob le superficie decidieron túuxtik tak ka'anal.” I am planning to take four of them to inspectionate the machine the surface-dwellers decided to send from above. Attuma stopped for a second, pointing to the ones he wanted to take. “Chéen k'áabet u t'aan aprobación bey ma' táanil.” Just need your word of approval before proceeding.

Namor was about to speak but he managed to see you approaching them, his fingers were tingling with anticipation, imagining what kind of rock you would give him today, the corner of his mouth was twitching upwards, a smile he wanted to suppress at the presence of Attuma. But he failed.

Attuma watched in amusement at how his king was acting, he would have laughed if you hadn’t approached them. You smiled at them before swimming away. That’s when he saw his face and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bejla'e' ma' jach juntúul roca, huh?” Not a rock today, huh? Attuma patted his back. “Ma' xaan ka' leti' a ts'áaik juntúul sáamal.” Perhaps she will give you one tomorrow.

“Bix a wojel?” How do you know? Namor asked him, his voice completely annoyed at the missing rock on his hand.

“Tu ya'alaj teen ka tu yilaj le kajnáalilo'obo' le superficie ts'a regalos, tu tukultaj u a gustaban le tunicho'ob ken aceptaste le primera.” She told me she saw the surface-dwellers give gifts, she thought you liked rocks when you accepted the first one. Attuma simply said, trying his hardest to not laugh again.

“Juntéen, wáaj bix supiste?” Again, how did you know?

“Leti' tu ya'alaj teen, ku pinchamos kaaye' globo sáastale'.” She told me, we usually poke pufferfish at dawn. He shrugged, swimming away.

What?

Namor was pacing through his cave, he was going absolutely mad, it now has been twelve days since you had given him a rock. He didn’t know what was happening, why did you stopped? Had the rocks you been seen weren’t up to your standard? He didn’t care, he wanted them.

He couldn’t help but sighed, his eyes turning to his small (HUGE) collection of rocks, he had been keeping them protected since you had given him them. But he wanted more, was he being selfish? Hell yeah, but this was something you had given the thought, you searched each one of them, you put your mind into looking for the perfect one before giving them to him.

So he went to look for you, he couldn’t find you anywhere in the city, a few of his people were looking at him strange as he began asking for you. But your mother was kind enough to point at your location.

Near the corals, she had said.

So he quickly swam there, and there you were, poking at pufferfish with Attuma. He needed to give you a reminder to not do that.

“Cha' k.” Leave us. Namor told Attuma, it was more like a order.

Attuma watched him and then you, before nodding. A huge smile on his face as he left.

“K’uk’ulkan?” You asked him confused, a stick on your hand. “Tu láakal ba'ax ma'alo'ob.?” Everuthing alright?

“English.” He told you, you noticed how tense he was, but still huffed and nodded. “Why did you stop?”

“Stop?” You tilted your head. “Stop what?”

“Rocks.”

You stared at him, you simple shrugged, not really knowing what to say.

“You have not given me any rock in twelve days, why?” He took a step closer to you. “Did something happened? Are they not in your standards? I do not mind what kind of rock you give me.”

“Oh.” You whispered, adverting your eyes. “Is not it.”

“Then what is it?” He grabbed your hands. “I do not care what you give me, but please do not stop.”

You sighed. “My mother say it is not nice to give rocks to someone…so I stopped.”

“Do not.” He whispered, “Please.”

You stared at his hands before looking upwards at his eyes. A tiny smile formed on your face. “Stick?” You gently raised the stick you were holding.

Namor couldn’t help but smile, taking the stick on his hands. “Thank you.” You smiled. “But now, why are you pocking pufferfish? Did you don’t know the dangerous things they could do to you?”

You sighed.

#namor fic #namor x reader #namor imagine #namor x fem!reader #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor fluff #namor fanfiction #k'uk'ulkan #kukulcan #black panther wakanda forever #black panther imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #the reader litteraly is just a precious little thing that I love so much #tenoch huerta #this is pure fluffiness

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Part Two Part Three

Steve x bi!fem!reader

Word count: 10,887

Summary: Steve teaches you about dating and in return, you teach him how to really please a woman in the bedroom.

CW: reader has a rough home life, mention of abuse, Eddie and reader are friends with benefits

Part One: The Agreement

Steve had always considered himself a romantic. Seeing his parents together really made him believe in love. The way they would hold hands in the car or at the table when they went out to eat. He loved romance movies and the warm and fuzzy feeling they gave him, hoping that he would find his own love.

He had thought he had it with Nancy, but that obviously didn’t work out. He could still remember their exact conversation before they ended things. She had called him “bullshit” then moved on to Jonathan pretty quickly after that. He didn’t know why he had been thinking about it so many years later. He was over her. At least, that was what he was telling himself.

He knew that the woman for him was out there even if he had to look hard. If he was honest, he had wanted to start something with you. He had been infatuated with you since Eddie had introduced you to the group all those months ago, but he didn’t think he was your type.

“Earth to Steve,” Robin waved her hand in front of his face as they stood in front of the diner that had finally replaced Benny’s.

“Sorry, what?” He turned to her, giving her his full attention again.

“I was asking what you were going to get this time.” The two of them had been plenty of times since the place had opened and were trying to eat everything on the menu. “Thinking about y/n, hm?”

The pair stepped inside and Steve was mesmerized by the bright colors and decor just like always. The whole place had the theme of a classic fifties diner and the floor was a black and white checkered pattern that was so clean that he swore he could see his reflection in it. There were red stools at the bar that seemed to be popular among customers and plenty of empty vinyl booths that were the same color. Waiters and waitresses whizzed by him on roller skates, all either holding trays of food or notepads to scribble down orders.

“No, I was-“

He cut himself off when he noticed you by the jukebox, sitting on the counter and doodling in the notepad you were supposed to be using for orders. He couldn’t help but stare like he did any time he saw you. You had been the only reason why Steve had even agreed to come. He’d go anywhere you were. He had a crush on you ever since you had been introduced to the group and everyone knew because of how obvious he was about it. Everyone but you, of course.

“Uh huh, sure. C’mon,” Robin pulled Steve over to the table where the hostess was leading them to but his eyes were still glued to you.

He was so engrossed in looking for something from the menu that he’d want to order that he didn’t even see you stroll up to the table. Robin had called his name multiple times and when that didn’t work, she kicked his shin under the table.

“Ow, what the hell,” he snapped his head to the girl across from him who nodded her head towards you. Your pretty eyes locked on him and his mouth went dry.

“Hi,” you chuckled at his reaction and he didn’t even care that you were laughing at him, he just liked hearing the sound. “I’m y/n and I’ll be your server today.” You didn’t like the idea of introducing yourself to people you already knew, but you couldn’t risk your manager writing you up again.

“What can I get you started with to drink,” you asked in the tone of voice you used with customers and Steve thought it was weird to see you so bubbly. In the many times they had eaten there, this had only been the second time they had been seated in your section.

“We’re ready to order if that’s okay,” he replied.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

Steve wasn’t your type. He was the kind of guy you’d bring home to your mother and you were more into guys you had to sneak through your window because your parents didn’t approve of them. But that still didn’t stop you from flirting with him or giving him nicknames that you were sure would make him blush.

“I’ll uh-“ he cut himself off. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”

“That’s a great choice,” you nodded as he handed you his menu. “And for you,” you turned to Robin

“I’ll have the same. And a chocolate shake,” she gave the boy a knowing look, a joke just between the two of them.

“I’ll have that right out for you.” You turned to head to kitchen and Steve didn’t miss that you weren’t wearing skates like the other servers. He watched you until you disappeared behind the door then turned back to Robin who was writing in a small notebook. He grabbed it from her and wished he hadn’t when he saw what was on the page. There was a line down the middle with the words “you rule” on the left and “you suck” on the right. He pushed it back towards her, his mood turning sour.

“You made a portable version?” He hated that stupid game, especially because it was at his expense. He knew he wasn’t doing too hot as far as dating went, he didn’t need to see the proof on paper.

“I sure did.” Robin pulled the notebook back and Steve watched what was she was doing, knowing what column she was adding to but wanted to see for himself.

“Are you putting a tally under the ‘you suck’ column,” he asked in offense. That had to be a new record of how quick she was to do it.

“Yep,” she nodded as she closed the book and put it back in her purse. “I’m saving time. Even though I already gave you one when you first flirted with her.”

“I haven’t even asked her out yet so how do you know that I suck?” He couldn’t believe it. Was that really what it was coming to? Had King Steve finally lost his crown?

“Did you see the way she laughed at you? Sorry, but you can’t come back from that. She totally went back there to tell all the people in the kitchen and they’re all for sure laughing at you right now.”

“You’re mean,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you’re a dingus. You know, now that I think about it, I actually think you might be able to turn it around. With my help at least. You’re kinda hopeless at this point.” He wanted to correct her, but he knew she was right.

“Gee, thanks, Rob,” he rolled his eyes. “Y/n would never laugh at me.”

“Maybe not to your face. Look, I can hype you up.” Steve knew she could, but was afraid that she would somehow end up revealing something embarrassing about him. She tended to babble so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, especially considering that she had already told you that most of Steve’s friend group was a bunch of teenagers out of context. How could she tell you the real reason when they were all bonded together by trauma from getting sucked into an alternate dimension multiple times? Who was going to believe that?

“I don’t think that’s going to work. Like you said, I’m hopeless.” Robin couldn’t believe that he was already giving up. He was the kind to at least try before he threw in the towel.

“Look, just leave it to me to save your ass once again.”

You exited the kitchen with a tray that carried the pair’s order and headed their way. Steve knew that it wasn’t exactly impressive for a server to be able to carry a tray with one hand, but damn was he mesmerized by the way you did it. The way you were able to dodge everyone in your way without spilling a single drop of Robin’s shake.

You headed their way with a bright smile and Steve was going to tell himself that it was for him specifically and totally not because it was your job to be nice to them.

You set the tray down on the table and Steve couldn’t help but focus on your close proximity. Your uniform was unzipped just enough to where he could see your cleavage and because he was a gentleman, he was trying his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Here are your burgers,” you set the plates in front of them and grabbed Robin’s shake then set it next to her plate. “And your shake. Can I get you anything else?”

“Actually,” Robin turned her attention to you. “Can we get some ketchup?” You stepped over to the empty table beside them and grabbed the bottle before setting it in the middle of their plates.

“Will that be all?” You actually didn’t mind that Robin kept asking for things. It kept you busy in the lull before the dinner rush.

“I would also like a straw.” Steve knew what Robin was doing and he hated her for it. Could she be anymore obvious?

“Here you go,” you reached into the pocket on your apron and pulled out a straw before handing it to her. As you were doing so, you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder. You turned to your left to see a ringed hand that was attached to the familiar metal head. He was looking at you with a sweet smile and Steve didn’t miss the undeniable connection between the two of you.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t found someone who wasn’t a complete asshole, but you were beginning to think love was a scam. Because who in their right mind would willingly get into a relationship completely unaware if it would last or not? To you, the only way to avoid any type of heartbreak was to be single. You could definitely have your fun, but as soon as feelings were involved, you’d shut down the whole operation and move on to the next person.

That was why your whole thing with Eddie worked. It was a relationship without all the “feelings” bullshit. You could hangout with him outside of the bedroom and would actually enjoy yourself. You’d watch a movie together and he wouldn’t expect you to cuddle with him. Or he’d come over to hookup and bring some weed free of charge just because and not expect anything in return. You had an unexplainable bond and after all the shit you went through, you definitely deserved to have him in your life.

“Hey, l/n,” he greeted with his signature smile. “Miss me?” His hand squeezed your shoulder before letting go. He stood beside you and Steve didn’t miss the way you looked at each other. That wasn’t the way friends looked at each other, was it?

“Hey, Eds,” you smiled back. “Your table’s all ready if you wanna take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“You take your time, sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting,” he winked before heading over to his usual table and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful for him leaving. He was jealous of what you had with Eddie even if you weren’t actually dating.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You asked making sure they didn’t need another thing before you headed over to take care of Eddie.

“I think that’s it,” Robin nodded, taking a sip from her milkshake. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you nodded back. “If you need anything else, let me know,” you smiled brightly then headed over to Eddie’s table.

He was looking over the menu even though you both knew exactly what he wanted; a plain cheeseburger and a Coke. He set the menu back on the table and looked up at you with him pretty brown eyes. He gave you his signature smile and you knew exactly why people were interested in him. He always knew exactly what to say to get into people’s pants and you admired him for that. After all, everything you knew about sex was because of him.

You scribbled down Eddie’s order then headed to the kitchen to drop off the slip. You stood at the window and watched Steve from afar, hoping that he wasn’t looking at you. He was definitely the prettiest guy you had ever seen, but you’d never admit that to anyone.

You weren’t usually attracted to guys like Steve so you didn’t know what made him different. Maybe because he was nice to you unlike the other guys in town who weren’t into your style or your personality. You were too aggressive in their eyes. You had too much sexual experience. They all wanted someone sweet and innocent, two things you definitely weren’t. You didn’t care, though. You didn’t care what anyone thought about you. That wasn’t any of your business.

Once Eddie’s order was ready, you grabbed it and headed to his table, setting it down in front of him and didn’t miss how he looked at your cleavage so quickly that you might have not seen it if you hadn’t been looking directly at him. You didn’t mind, though. At least you were getting attention.

“Thanks, doll,” Eddie smiled and you beamed at the nickname. Out of all the ones he had given you, that one was definitely your favorite.

“Anything else?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “So what’s going on with you and Harrington?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Why, you jealous, Munson?” Eddie scoffed at that. What you two had was strictly casual. He couldn’t have been attracted to you romantically if he tried.

“Not even close. I’m just looking out for you.”

“You don’t need to. I can take care of myself.” Eddie knew that, but he still felt the need to protect you. He wanted to make sure that you were taken care of since you didn’t seem to have anyone looking out for you.

“You should totally go out with him.” You let out a laugh at that. Eddie had been trying to set you up with Steve for months to no avail. You could see right through it and weren’t going to fall for his bullshit.

“I’m not looking for anything, remember?” That was partially true. As much as you didn’t like the idea of being tied down, you had to admit that going to bed to the same person every night sounded really nice.

“But Steve’s cool. Well, sometimes.“

“Why do I need a boyfriend when I have you?”

“Because I can’t be your only friend, l/n. You need friends that you don’t have sex with.” You knew he was right, but you liked the idea of hanging out with just Eddie. He was the only person that truly understood you. And bringing more people into your life just made it easier for them to leave. And you weren’t going to get hurt, not this time.

“Fine, whatever.” You turned on your heel to head for the bathroom, Eddie’s words ringing in the back of your head. Maybe he was right for once. You did need more friends. You always saw Steve and Robin laughing about things together and you wanted to be part of their jokes. You just wanted to be part of something for once. You were tired of being alone.

You exited the stall and washed your hands before heading back to check on your tables. On the way out of the little hallway, you ran into a hard chest. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Steve. You’d recognize that terrible shirt and the ugly color combo of stripes that adorned it anywhere.

You looked up at him and his lips parted like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent. He just closed his mouth, his eyes widening as he did so. You could tell that you made him nervous and that was funny to you. There was nothing for him to be nervous about when it came to you. You had heard all about King Steve and his reputation with women so you were honestly surprised that you had intimidated him. You actually kind of liked it if you were being honest.

“Just couldn’t get enough of me, huh,” you joked.

“No!” His eyes got even wider and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how flustered he was. “I was just-“ he pointed to the men’s bathroom door.

“Relax, pretty boy,” you teased with a pat to his cheek. “I’m only joking.” You turned on your heel then headed back to the kitchen, not able to see Steve watching you walk away. After you were out of his sight, he entered the restroom.

You went back to check on your tables and approached Robin, who was finishing up her milkshake. You had thought about what Eddie had said about you needing new friends and decided to do something that was out of character.

“Do you have plans next Saturday?” You felt nervous asking that despite how long you had known Robin, but you had never hung out with her outside of the group, at least not like that. But you liked the idea of having a friend that was girl. You had never had one of those before.

“Except work, no. Why?” You didn’t want to answer her. There was something so vulnerable about asking someone to hang out and you hated being vulnerable. “Do you want to have a sleepover?” Her eyebrows furrowed at your question and you immediately wanted to take it back. It was unlike you to want to hang out with anyone outside of the group.

“A sleepover?” Robin could tell by your tone that it wasn’t going to be that kind of sleepover, so she agreed. She knew that you were bisexual, but you weren’t each other’s type. She liked girls who were more feminine and you were into girls who looked like you.

She also thought it would be a good idea to have a friend that was a girl. She needed more feminine energy in her life.

“Sure,” she nodded. “Sounds like fun.” You pulled your notepad out of your pocket and were actually kind of excited for the whole thing.

“What are we talking about,” Steve asked as he sat back in his side of the booth.

“I’m sleeping over at y/n’s on Saturday,” Robin told him and she could see his face falter.

“I thought we were going to finally watch that new horror movie on Saturday.” Robin had completely forgotten about that and now you felt bad that you were stealing her away from Steve.

“I totally forgot about that.” Steve looked over at you and even though you were trying really hard to hide it, he could see that you were disappointed and he didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“(Y/n), you like horror movies, right,” Robin asked, watching Steve out of the corner of her eye to see what his reaction would be to her next question.

“Love ‘em,” you answered and Steve couldn’t believe what Robin was doing. He thought he at least had some more time to prepare before she started her moves in setting the two of you up. And she wasn’t even being subtle about it. Robin was about as subtle as gun.

“You should watch the movie with us.” The old you would have come up with any excuse to say no, but this was the new you. And the new you made friends. And maybe if it went well, you could make it a regular thing.

“I’d love to.” This was going to be the year you finally did things that scared you. And that included getting close to people who weren’t Eddie.

“We’ll watch it at Steve’s since he’s got that giant TV.” Of course she was suggesting his house. Girls were always amazed about where he lived and Robin knew that. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Sounds good to me.” Steve couldn’t believe you had actually agreed. You had always denied their invitations to hang out with you and he’d be stupid to ask why you had changed your so suddenly. Whatever the reason, he was going to be grateful.

Eddie had watched the entire interaction play out and couldn’t help but be proud of you. He knew that you had been wanting to get close to Robin and Steve but had been too scared to make a move.

You brought Eddie his check and didn’t miss the smirk he had on his face. And this time he was looking at your face and not your breasts so clearly he had been up to something.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “What?”

“I saw you over there. You did so good, doll. I’m so proud. It’s my baby’s first non-sexual hangout,” he teased, grabbing your face and planting a messy-albeit gentle-kiss to it. You pushed him away in disgust.

“Ew. I hate when you get like this,” you rubbed your cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the spit. Eddie just grinned at you.

“You didn’t hate it last night.” He winked and you felt yourself blush.

“Because that was in your bed, not in public. And you were more rough with it. You know I hate soft touches.” Eddie knew that fact all too well, all too familiar with hearing the words “harder” and “faster” coming from you in the bedroom.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.“

“Whats going on? You’re being weird, even for you.” You gave him a glare but that only made him smile wider.

“I’m not weird, I’m just a proud daddy.” Hearing that word outside of dirty talk made your skin crawl.

“Gross,” you grimaced. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “Now pay your bill and get out.” Eddie always ended up lingering after he had already paid, wanting to spend more time there. It definitely beat staying in the trailer by himself while Wayne was at work. But you had to kick him out because your manager hated loitering.

“I love it when you’re bossy.” He left some cash on the table, making sure to give you a hefty tip and stood from the table.

Steve watched your interaction with Eddie and wanted to know if you were dating or not, but couldn’t get himself to ask. He didn’t want that information out in the open, unbeknownst to him that everyone was very well aware of his little crush on you. He wasn’t very good at hiding his jealousy and Eddie had even kicked his touches up a notch to get Steve to say something about how he felt about you, but he never did.

Robin and Steve finished their meals and you dropped off their check. You watched them walk out the door and turned to the table to some cash sitting under Robin’s empty cup so it wouldn’t blow away under the fans that had been running because of how hot it had been outside.

You headed over to their table and noticed that Steve had left a twenty dollar bill which meant that more than half had been for you. You wondered what it was like to be able to tip more than your meal had cost and not be struggling financially. You didn’t know what that was like because your family didn’t have the kind of money to even eat where you worked.

You headed outside for your smoke break as Steve’s red BMW pulled out of his parking space. You watched him pass by as you pulled your carton of cigarettes out of your apron pocket. The taste of the tobacco sounded so inviting and you just needed it to help with the chronic stress that sat on your shoulders every single day.

You went through your cluttered apron pockets to find your lighter only to grasp at crumpled receipts and empty straw wrappers. You had always put it in your apron before your shifts for that exact situation so you had wondered where it went. You tried to picture the last place you had it and suddenly remembered that you had left it at Eddie’s when you had smoked a joint together the night before.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Eddie exited the diner, holding out a lighter to you. You took it from him and lit up, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke away from him so it wouldn’t get all in his face. You looked down the lighter and noticed your initials that you had engraved into the intricate design to signify it was yours.

“Thanks.” You fiddled with the thing in your hands, never able to stand still for so long. Whether it was the anxiety or the stress, you didn’t know.  

“Sure,” he nodded. “That one’s yours anyway. You left it at my place last night and I figured I should give it back.” Eddie grabbed the cigarette from you, putting it between his own lips before taking a drag and handing it back to you.

“Well, thanks.” You wondered just how many lighters you had lost over the last few years after sleeping with someone only to never return to their place ever again. The only thing you had missed was your leather jacket that you had left at Billy Hargrove’s. You had politely asked for it back, but he only agreed to return it if you slept with him again and there was no way in hell that was going to happen. After he had made fun of Eddie? Fat chance. He could have the jacket for all you cared.

“Sure. I’ll see you tonight?” You didn’t know why he was asking. Of course you were going to see him. You were in his bedroom practically every night.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking another drag before holding out the cigarette to him. He took it from you, his fingers brushing yours as he did so. This was so familiar to you, standing outside your place of work sharing a cigarette with your best friend. It seemed like it happened at least once every single one of your shifts. Most of the time neither of you uttered a single word, the only thing that could be heard was birds chirping or the sound of car doors slamming as people headed towards the restaurant. It was nice, one of your favorite things about working.

Eddie handed your cigarette back and fished around in his pocket for his keys. He pulled out his own cigarette carton, a couple guitar picks, and a few wadded up gum wrappers before finding what he was looking for. You wondered when he last washed his jeans, then remembered that you were the last one to do so when you took your stuff to the laundromat which had been a couple of weeks ago. You made a mental note to go back sometime in the week and take Eddie’s gross pants with you.

“See you tonight. Four, right?” That was always your plan when you were picking up extra shifts. Eddie would watch Callie while you were gone and then you’d go over to his after your shift while Wayne was still at work and you’d spend the night together, getting tangled up in Eddie’s sheets with a few smoke breaks in between. It was a perfect night in your opinion. You were able to get away from home for the night and you could forget about your shitty living situation at least for a little while. Until you began to worry about leaving your little sister alone with your parents.

Eddie was always able to help you when you started to panic. He’d take your hands in his and make you take some deep breaths to help you calm down. He’d then take you over to your own trailer to see Callie to make sure she was okay. She was always in your shared room, fast asleep in the bed that you were forced to share because your parents couldn’t afford another one.

Your parents were always fighting and it made Callie cry hearing them, so you’d do whatever what you could to distract her. Whether it was letting her listen to your walkman to block out the screams or just straight up taking her to Eddie’s, you’d find a way to shield her. No kid should have to be subjected to that or be on the receiving end of it like you had been a few times. That was why you always deemed any room that wasn’t yours off limits during those moments.

You wanted better for Callie. She was just a kid and didn’t deserve to live like that. You hated that she was growing up with the very same childhood you had experienced. You had hoped that your parents would have gotten their shit together before having another kid, but Callie had just been a product of them having makeup sex in the back of their shared beat up car.

Callie was way too young to be subjected to your parents’ toxic behavior. You, however had been used to it. Them hitting or yelling at you was something you just expected whenever you were home at the same time as them. They still hadn’t laid a finger on Callie out of anger and you vowed that if they ever had, you’d pack up all your stuff and go live with Eddie and Wayne. Wayne knew all about your living situation and had suggested you come live with him as soon as he found out about how your parents had been treating you and your sister, but you were just trying to hold out until you could get enough money to get the two of you the hell out of there.

———

You and Callie entered the trailer after you had picked her up from school and you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that your parents’ car wasn’t in its usual spot. You didn’t have it in you to deal with them. You were just so tired. You were scheduled for a shift at Family Video in an hour which only gave you enough time to make sure that Callie did her homework. Eddie would take care of the rest.

You showered and got dressed while Callie did her homework. That was the only way you were able to do anything for yourself. You had to do it while she was occupied, never truly getting an actual moment to yourself. She’d come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and ask you where you had put her favorite pencil. You hated that you got annoyed with her every now and then, but sometimes you wished you could have just five minutes of uninterrupted silence.

You came out of your room to find Callie eating the TV dinner you had fixed for her and Eddie was sitting next to her. They were both talking about the cartoon she had put on. It was one of the things they bonded over. Eddie really was just a kid at heart so it made sense why they got along so well. He didn’t have any siblings so Callie was the closest he was going to get. She had him wrapped around her little finger and she quickly found that he’d do anything she asked. Whether it was letting her braid his hair or have a tea party with him, it didn’t matter.

You loved watching their interactions. The way Eddie was so sweet to her, but talking to her in the tone that he used with everyone else. You wished that the people in town could see the way Eddie treated her so they’d stop insisting that he was an evil cult leader.

He had insisted on watching your sister even though you had assured him that you didn’t need his help. He noticed that you were always doing that; insisting that you didn’t need assistance when you were actually desperate for it. To you, asking for help meant that you were weak. You had gotten through your hardest times by yourself, so why would you admit that you needed help with the little things like finding a sitter for your sister?

“Alright,” you spoke up, standing at the back of the couch. “I’m leaving for work, so Eddie’s in charge.” Callie turned to face you, a pout on her face. As much as she loved spending time with Eddie, she always missed you when you were gone. You were her best friend. The one person who she was convinced could protect her from everything. Your parents screaming at each other, a bad dream, and the monsters that very much not under your bed. You both knew that they didn’t exist. She was just always looking for an excuse to cuddle closer to you, feeling the safest being wrapped in your arms.

Callie didn’t care if you didn’t give birth to her. In her eyes, you were her mother. You had gotten up in the night to feed her or change her diaper and you rocked her back to sleep when she stopped crying. You were there when she took her first steps, holding onto fingers until she was able to move by herself. You held her while she cried when kids were mean to her at school, telling her that they were losers and were just bored with their lives. You helped her ride your old bike without training wheels, cheering her on as she circled the little spot in front of your trailer. You had been there for every important moment in her life while she had just been an afterthought to your parents. Just another reason why they didn’t have any money and were stuck in that stupid trailer.

She gave you a long hug and you pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her to behave before you went out the front door to your car. You took a deep breath and turned on the ignition before heading out of the trailer park.

Working at Family Video was definitely your favorite out of your three jobs. The diner involved a lot of running around and working at the car repair shop was just answering phones and scheduling appointments since you didn’t have any actual experience fixing up cars. That one was very monotonous and boring doing the exact same thing every time. You liked Family Video because it was the perfect amount of work and you got along with the people you worked with. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

You put in the cassette tape that was a mix of your favorite metal songs you had made and turned the volume dial all the way up, singing along to the song. In your mind, if you had the music on really loud, it could drown out all of your thoughts so you had no choice but to get out of your head. Your brain was always working overtime with all of things you had to do. There was always another thing to add to your to do list or something else to worry about, so you tried your best to turn it off when you could.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked a little bit away from the building since Keith had gotten onto you multiple times for parking right up front. Despite not wanting to walk the few extra steps, you were too tired to argue with him. You grabbed your vest and headed into the building, finding Steve already at the counter, typing something into the computer. He turned to you when he heard the bell chime and gave you a small smile before turning back to his task.

You headed to the back room and clocked in before putting on the dreaded green vest. You wished Keith could have at least gotten vests that were a neutral color so it’d be easier to match to your outfits. Nothing went with green. You threw your purse into your locker and let out a sigh before going out onto the floor. The place was empty which was arguably worse than it being packed. If it was crowded, at least you would have something to do other than put videos away.

Steve was no longer at the counter, now putting returns back on the shelves. You rounded the counter and noticed his cart right by the romcom section. You pulled some tapes from the cart and began putting them away in their designated aisle, deciding that you were going to help him even though he always insisted that he didn’t need it. He knew of your other jobs and wanted this one to be a breeze for you. He thought you worked too hard.

Steve could hear shuffling and turned to his cart to see that some of the tapes were missing. He then looked over the aisles and saw you in the sci-fi section. You were reorganizing the tapes in alphabetical order. He noticed you doing that every time you had a shift together and wondered why it mattered to you so much when people were just going to mess it up again.

He watched you for a few more seconds then turned back to his own task. He spent too much time looking at you and really needed to cut it out. But you were just so pretty. He wanted to look at you any chance he got. He wanted to hold you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as he pressed kisses your cheek just to hear your pretty laugh. He wanted to hold your hand whenever he could, feeling your soft skin against his. He wanted to kiss you. Goddamn did he want to kiss you. He wanted to know what your pretty lips tasted like. They were like two little pillows and he needed to know if they were as soft as they looked. He knew he was pathetic pining for you like that, but he didn’t care.

You were so mysterious and he wanted to know more about you. What you liked and what you didn’t. He wanted to know every single thing about you, hearing you go on and on for hours. He knew he wouldn’t get bored because everything about you was fascinating in his eyes. You could read out the diner menu to him and he would listen, hanging onto every word. He was in deep and he didn’t even care. He didn’t care if you didn’t if you didn’t feel the same way, he’d still eat up every interaction, every flirty word that would fall from your pretty lips.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you spoke up as you approached his cart once again. It was the only thing separating you two and he thought you were too far away. You grabbed onto the top of the cart and leaned forward, getting a little too close to him for his liking. He tried to keep his cool, but you smelled so good. If he had it his way, he’d have pulled you to him and buried his face into his neck to get a better whiff.

“Not much to say,” he shrugged and turned back to the shelf to hide the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks.

“You never shut up when you’re with Robin, but you’re quiet as a mouse when you’re around me.” He wanted to tell you that it was because you intimidated him and that he was afraid that he was going to say something stupid. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He just kept quiet and tried to not think about how beautiful you were.

“Just don’t have a lot to say,” he shrugged, putting some more tapes on the shelf in front of him. That was a lie. Steve had so much to say to you, but he didn’t think that any of it was appropriate.

He wanted to tell you just how pretty he thought you were while he thrusted into you. He wanted to feel your soft body against his. He wanted to hear you moan his name over and over again while he made sweet love to you.

He was always going on dates and sleeping with women, but it never really progressed after that. He’d promise to call them then throw their numbers away only to feel guilty in the end. He hated the cycle, but he was only doing what he thought he had to.

He was only trying to get over you and he thought the only way to do that was to get under someone else. But that never worked. You were the only girl he wanted and he couldn’t have you because you were taken. It was torture watching you with Eddie. The way you touched each other in such a flirty manner, whispering things into the other’s ear.

Steve wanted to be that with you. He wanted you two to have your own inside jokes. He wanted to have his arm around your waist and press tender kisses to your temple whenever he wanted. But he couldn’t. And it was killing him. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship, if you could’ve even called it that.

“Oh,” you nodded in understanding, even though he couldn’t see you. “I get it.” You pulled away from the cart, crossing your arms over your chest. “You don’t like me.”

You loved to mess with Steve more than you liked flirting with him. He fell for it every time, completely believing your words. You thought it was hilarious considering the fact that you hadn’t even been trying.

“No!” He turned around in panic, needing to assure you that it wasn’t true. He liked you, probably loved you even. “I like you.”

“You do?” You bat your eyelashes innocently and Steve stepped closer, trying not to fall for your tricks.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re friends, right?” The word was hard to get out. He hated using it when it came to you. It burned his throat the way bile did when it climbed its way up into his mouth. It tasted horrible and bitter like burnt toast.

The word caught you off guard. Eddie was the only one you had given that title to. And here Steve was using the word so casually, like it was part of his everyday vocabulary.

“Of course we’re friends, Steve.” Technically speaking, you were friends, but the two of you didn’t really hangout outside of the group like you did with Eddie.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hang out with Steve, it was that you couldn’t. You were unsure of where things would go with the two of you. Anytime you were alone, you felt the tension and you were afraid of the things the two of you would get up to. Hanging out always led to sex and sex always led to the “what are we?” talk and you couldn’t do that again. It was always so awkward letting people down.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good.” He rolled the cart to another aisle and you followed him. You watched him put more tapes away, admiring the way his jeans hugged his hips and the way his shirt was tight against his biceps. You could see why women liked him even if you weren’t interested. He was pretty and got along with everyone. What was there to not like?

“Yeah,” you nodded. “So what did you get up to last night?” You leaned onto the cart as Steve crouched to put some videos away on the lowest shelf.

“Oh, you know. The usual,” he shrugged, trying to move quickly because being in that position was painful.

“Which is?” You leaned closer, trying to read the look on his face. He stood up quickly, his legs not being able to take the pain anymore.

“Had a girl over.” He didn’t want to say more than that. He figured that you knew what had happened without him having to spell it out for you.

“Oh?” He didn’t have to say anything else, but you wondered how much he would tell you.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“How was it?” Bad. It was bad. So much so that he couldn’t even think about it without feeling embarrassed.

“Fine.” He was lying. He couldn’t tell you the truth. The truth being that he had tried to make out with the girl only to see your face and your pretty eyes boring into his. It happened every time and it was infuriating.

“Fine?” That was never the word you wanted to hear about a date. That was always meant that it went wrong but the person didn’t want to come out and say it.

“We just didn’t have that spark, you know?” You didn’t know what he meant by that so you wanted him to explain.

“Spark?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Steve liked that he was going to be able to explain something to you and not the other way around for once.

“You know, the spark.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but knew that it was some sort of thing that was only exclusive to Steve. He was too much of a romantic sometimes.

“No.” You didn’t seem to care but Steve was still going to tell you anyway.

“It’s when you get that feeling. You just know they’re the one.” His brown eyes softened as he looked at you and all you could do was let out a laugh. It all just seemed so silly.

“How do you know?” This was the real question. How did you know when you were in love with someone?

“It’s in your gut. It’s something that you just know.” Steve had never gotten that feeling, but knew it existed and he was just waiting for it to come around.

“Huh,” you pondered. “Sounds fake.” Love was just a bunch of bullshit to you. At least romantically. You loved Callie and you loved Eddie, but that was about it.

“You’re just too cynical to ever love anyone but yourself.” Both of you knew he wasn’t trying to offend you. He was just telling the truth.

“I love Callie,” you countered and Steve only shook his head. That didn’t count in his opinion.

“You’re supposed to love your sister.” You supposed that was true, but still felt like you were right.

“I also love Eddie.” He didn’t like hearing that, but he knew what you meant.

“It’s the same thing. He’s your best friend. You’re supposed to love him. I’m talking about romance.” You hated talking about that, even with Steve. Especially with Steve. Out of the four of you, Steve definitely seemed to be the one who always wanted to talk about love and it made you uncomfortable.

“Gross,” you grimace and Steve thought it was cute seeing your features scrunched up like that.

“It’s not gross, it’s beautiful,” he corrected, giving your shoulder a nudge. You just stepped away to keep space between your bodies.

“How can you think that when you’ve never been in love?” Steve had been in love. Only once and not for very long, but it still counted.

“I was in love with Nancy.” Right, Nancy. You don’t know her as well as you knew Robin, but just from the few interactions you had with her, she seemed nice enough.

“I mean besides Nancy. That was years ago and I haven’t heard you utter another girl’s name since I’ve known you.” He could think of multiple girls off of the top of his head that he had talked about. Well, with Robin. He felt weird talking about his dates with you.

“You’ve only known me for like six months.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelf behind him. Steve didn’t think you had known him long enough to critique him.

“Yeah, and that’s been six months of jack shit, Harrington. If you want love so badly then you have to go on more than one date with a girl.” He never thought that you of all people would have given him actually good relationship advice. For someone who had never been in one, you really seemed to know what you were talking about.

“Maybe I will,” he shrugged. You both knew that he wouldn’t. He was just going to continue the cycle until he found someone.

“The girl for you is out there, Steve. You just have to look hard enough.” He was looking and the only woman that he wanted was right in front of him. He felt pathetic. He would never get you so he didn’t know why he even bothered.

“Like where? Because she’s definitely not in Hawkins. I think I’ve been out with every woman who’s interested in men in our age group.” He hadn’t been out with you, though. And he never would because you definitely weren’t interested. He thought it was better if you were just friends anyway. He liked what you two had and didn’t want to ruin it.

“Well,” you let out a sigh. “I guess you’re just destined to be alone.”

Steve wondered what made you so against love at such a young age. Usually the people who were that cynical were at least fifty years older than you. He figured it had something to do with your home life that you only mentioned a few times. You were very secretive.

Steve wasn’t going to listen to you. Love was out there and he was going to find it even if it wasn’t with you. Just because he hadn’t found someone yet didn’t mean that he was going to throw in the towel. He was going to at least give it another try before he fully gave up.

“No,” he pointed at you. “I am not stooping to your sad, cynical level.” He moved from the shelf and rounded the corner with a stack of videos and you followed him, the cart completely abandoned.

“Oh, c’mon, Steve.”

“I think maybe if you put yourself out there, you’d actually find that dating is fun,” he smiled and you gagged at his words. Pretty much anything sounded more appealing to you than that.

“You know what’s even more fun than dating,” you asked, your face lighting up and Steve was interested in what you had to say.

“What?”

“Hearing my parents yelling at each other while I hold my sister who’s sobbing. That’s more fun than dating.” He supposed he walked right into that one. He had never seen you talk nicely about anything except your sister and Eddie, but he was determined to find out what else you liked. He knew there had to be some sort of happiness deep down inside you.

“C’mon, y/n, you’re a pretty girl. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” That was a nice compliment, but it sounded generic, like it was something he’d say to just anyone. There was nothing that made it personal.

“Right, and I would be lucky just to get through this shift without you trying to convince me to put myself out there.” You took some of Steve’s tapes and put them away, wanting the conversation to be over. He only followed you, leaning against the shelf you were working on. He stared down at you, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can you be serious for one second?”

“I am being serious, Steve,” you turned to face him. “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“You call that help?” You let out a laugh. You didn’t think him pointing out your flaws was considered helpful. “If you really want to help me, then why don’t you actually help me?” You leaned onto the shelf as well, setting your arm onto the top of it to hold yourself up.

“How?” His eyebrows furrowed and you thought for a moment. The first thing that came to mind was actually ridiculous.

“I don’t know, go on a date with me or something.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, his mouth falling open slightly. He never thought he’d see the day. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Hell had frozen over.

“What,” he scoffed. He didn’t believe you in the slightest. You had to be joking because there was no way you’d ever want to go on a date, especially not with him.

“It’ll be like practice.” Steve was quick to step forward and press his hand to your forehead. Your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, trying to figure out what he was up to.

“What are you doing,” you let out a laugh, pushing his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were sick,” he let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand away. “Because that would be the only reason why you’d ever go out with me.”

“Oh stop. You’re the only one who would actually be helpful.” He hated that you were right. He was the only one who’d be up for the task and do it right. “You’re King Steve, aren’t you? You clearly know what you’re doing since you always have a date.”

“Why not Eddie or Robin?” It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want to help you, but he didn’t think he could because then he’d want more and he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Eddie would just laugh the whole time and Robin would overthink everything.” Steve knew both of them well enough to know that what you had said was accurate. Eddie was too close to you to take going on a date with you seriously and Robin would take everything too seriously to the point that it would drive you crazy. Steve was your only option.

Steve supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d get to go on a date with you and hadn’t that been what he had wanted all along? Who cared if it wasn’t real? At that point, Steve was just going to take what he could get.

It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just to help you out so you knew what a date was like without the nerves of being around a stranger. He’d just give you pointers. Tell you how to win people over enough to get their number and how to get to a second date after the first.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Let’s go out.” Your eyes widened at his agreement. You figured that he would have said no because it was weird or because he had better things to do.

“Oh-I was joking.” He thought it was odd to hear you stutter. You had always said things so matter-of-factly with your head held high. He could tell how nervous you were then.

“I wasn’t. So let’s go out.”

“Steve.”

“Yes?” A smirk played on his pink lips and now you could see why he always got whatever he wanted. Just one flash of that damn smile and women would give him whatever he asked. Well, it wasn’t going to work on you. You were better than them.

“Why are you agreeing?” He was doing a favor, getting absolutely nothing out of it, so what was his deal?

“Why are you asking?” He wanted to know why you were grilling him when the whole thing was your idea. Joke or not, Steve didn’t think that it was half bad. Maybe it could actually work.

“Because it’s a weird request.” Steve had done weirder things like fighting with multiple monsters from alternate dimensions, so going on a fake date with you would have been one of the less weird things he had done.

“It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done. And I want to help you, y/n.” He would do anything for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. You weren’t quite at that point in your friendship.

“Well, great,” you smiled. “When did you want to start?”

Steve thought for a second even though he knew for a fact that his schedule was wide open. It always was. If he wasn’t at work or on a date or with Robin, he was at home by himself watching movies he’d seen a thousand times or laying in his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself even though he knew there were people out there with worse problems.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one with the busy schedule so you tell me when you’re free.” It was nice that he was being so accommodating.

“Literally never. See, this is why I don’t date.” He could see you panicking and wanted to do whatever he could to help you calm you down.

“How about this weekend,” he suggested and realized that it was already Thursday.

“Isn’t that a bit early?” Maybe it was but he didn’t care.

“Not necessarily,” he shrugged again. He didn’t think it was. He was just eager to get started. He was really looking forward to going out with you.

“What are we going to do?” That was a good question and he figured he’d let you decide.

“What do you want to do?” He saw that nervous look and he was concerned that you were going to panic again.

“I don’t know.” Your life was full of making choices. Deciding what to buy at the grocery store. What to make for dinner. What you were going to wear every day. For once you didn’t want the decision to be up to you.

“Well, what do you like to do in your free time?” Steve just wanted to make the decision easier for you. In his head, it didn’t seem like a big deal, but he didn’t know what your life was like besides that you had a sister and that your parents fought.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have free time.” Of course you didn’t. He had heard you talk about your two other jobs and practically raising your littler sister. That was a lot for anyone to have on their plates, especially for someone as young as you.

“Right,” he nodded. He hated that you didn’t even have enough free time to even figure out what you enjoyed. It broke his heart.

“You pick. I promise I’ll like whatever you choose.” That seemed like a huge promise to Steve. He didn’t think you liked anything.

“Are you sure?” He titled his head to the side and you almost thought it was cute. Almost.

“Yes, please. Just pick.” Steve actually liked the idea of choosing for once. It seemed like he was told what to do all the time so having his own decision to make made him feel good.

“We can just hang at my house then. It’s private and it’s somewhere you can leave if you feel uncomfortable.” That sounded like a good idea to you. You didn’t like the idea of having Steve pay for your dinner. You could pay for yourself just fine.

“That works for me,” you nodded.

“I can make you dinner and we can just talk. It’ll be low stakes.” Oh god, now he really was going to spend money on you. Maybe you could let it slide just this once.

“You don’t have to do this,” you handed Steve another video to put on the shelf.

Of course Steve didn’t have to, but he wanted to. He just wanted to help you out. He didn’t care if he got anything in return. He would just be content spending time with you.

“I know I don’t,” he nodded, taking the tape from you. “But I want to.”

“What should I wear?” He didn’t like where his mind went with that question. He could imagine you in a pretty dress that would be thrown onto the floor of his bedroom while you placed yourself on top of him.

“Whatever you want. You could wear sweats for all I care.”

That made you feel better since you didn’t really have any nice clothes. The only “nice” outfits you owned were the two dresses that your mother had bought you. One was for funerals and the other for weddings and you didn’t think that either of those were appropriate. Maybe you’d ask Robin if you could borrow something.

“So I could wear my pajamas,” you joked and clearly Steve didn’t get it.

“Sure,” he nodded “Whatever you want. I could wear mine too if that would make you feel better.”

“We’re not wearing pajamas, Stevie,” you shook your head with a laugh.

“I know,” he laughed as well. “You’re overthinking it.” That much was true. You were overthinking everything these days and Steve could tell. “Seriously, wear whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

The topic was dropped and the two of you made awkward small talk the rest of the night in between customers. Despite not having not talked about your “date” for hours, it was the only thing on your mind. It had made you nervous and you wanted to just tell Steve to forget it, but you couldn’t. He just seemed so insistent on helping you and you weren’t going to take that opportunity away from him.

You had never thought of Steve as intimidating, but now you couldn’t help but feel nervous around him. You were going to see a side to him that you had never seen before and that scared you. What if it had made your friendship weird? What if the date sucked and he never wanted to speak to you again?

You went to Eddie’s after work and told him everything. Of course, he thought it was the funniest thing and couldn’t stop laughing. The idea of you and Steve going out tickled him. You didn’t even have anything in common. You liked all things scary while Steve jumped when a customer came into Family Video unannounced.

However, opposites did attract and Eddie knew just how much Steve liked you even though you couldn’t see it because you had been too focused on your own life. He thought Steve would be good for you. That he would balance you out.

“You gonna wear something hot?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his bed, putting his arms behind his head.

“I don’t have anything hot, Eddie,” you laid down next to him. “And this is just a practice date. It doesn’t mean anything.” Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but Eddie knew it meant the world to Steve even if the boy wouldn’t admit it.

“Right. You know, I’m kinda offended you didn’t ask me.” He turned over to face you, propping his head up with one of his hands.

“We both know why I didn’t ask you,” you raised an eyebrow. “We’re too close and you’d just laugh the whole time.” Eddie let out a laugh at that. You were absolutely right.

“Cmon, let me wine and dine you, baby,” he reached for your hand and you pulled it away.

“Fat chance, Munson,” you cackled. “We’re just not compatible.” Eddie knew that much, but when you were fucking, it was as if your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Maybe not romantically. But physically, we’re so made for each other.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Honey, I’m always right.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you on top of him. He flipped the two of you over, pressing his body to yours, sliding his legs between yours.

“Now give me some sugar.”

“Oh, you actually want to kiss me first? Is it a special occasion?” You teased.

“No, just need to taste your lips.” You pressed your lips to his roughly, tangling your hands into his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours before pulling away.

“No,” you whined. “I need you. Need your cock.”

“Sweetheart, you worked twelve hours today. I know you don’t have it in you.” Eddie was more than eager to fuck you, but he could see how tired you were and wasn’t going to through with it if you weren’t conscious enough to be enthusiastic about it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But you owe me.”

“I’ll give you two rounds tomorrow with no smoke breaks,” he pressed another kiss to your lips then pulled you into his arms.

“Deal,” you smiled, closing your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep. Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” You pulled back to glare at him only making him laugh more.

“Still can’t believe you’re going out with Harrington,” he shook his head.

“Eddie, please just shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” you demanded and he was quick to close his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eds.” You snuggled into his chest and the two of you drifted off to sleep.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

[delcakoo]

nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw

۵ SUMMARY ! when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…

۵ PAIRING ! jungwon × gn!reader

۵ GENRE ! fake dating on the spot, fluff with shy wonnie

۵ WC ! 1.2k

۵ WARNINGS ! weirdo trying to get your number — he touches your hand

a/n: woops i wrote this thing super quickly last night while listening to old love by yuji <3 i should be working on requests but it was jungwon hours okay!! (when is it not tbh)

farmers must be smiling brilliantly by a glance at the view outside. heavy droplets of rain shower onto the concrete, washing away the tiny pieces of rubble deserted one by one.

but those little rocks weren’t the only soon-to-be deserted things if your damn umbrella didn’t open up; you knew you shouldn’t have made such an impulsive purchase at the dollar store — but the colorful design of the flexible plastic was much too charming to resist!

nonetheless, after a couple more pathetic attempts of you looking like a lunatic and smacking your umbrella against the ground, you eventually huff in surrender as you continue down the sidewalk, allowing the raindrops to attack you mercilessly.

all you wanted was to pick up some easy, reheatable dinner from the convenience store, you didn’t think you’d be getting a free shower along the way.

luckily, it wasn’t much longer before you made it to the small market, sighing in relief as the warmth enclosed you from the miserable weather outside. you nod politely in greeting to the employee behind the counter, shuffling your way further into the store to find yourself some ramen.

now, the hardest decision of all, what flavor to get? perhaps today is a roast beef day, yeah that sounds pretty good! or wait, soy sauce never fails either, but you couldn’t go wrong with just salt right—

“excuse me?”

you’re snapped out of your inner debate by the sound of a male’s voice from right next to you. flinching in surprise, you turn around to find a much older looking, tall man staring down at you. “oh, yes?” you reply awkwardly, looking around to see if you’ve missed something. “my bad, am i in the way?”

the stranger smirks, gazing down at you strangely as if you were a piece of meat. “no, actually i was just wondering if i could get your number?” he asks (well, it didn’t exactly seem like asking in the way he already began pulling out his phone in the middle of his sentence, as if there was no possibility of you denying him).

“uh,” you gulp, looking around the store nervously. “i’m sorry, do i know you?

for some reason, his simper grows at that, suddenly grabbing your hand in his free one. “no, but you can always get to know me, babe.”

yeah, absolutely not. you resist the urge to gag, now feeling more enticed to simply find an escape rather than get your ramen.

fortunately, the doorbell rings abruptly, alerting a new customer's entry and giving you the distraction needed to rip your hand away from the man’s unwanted grip.

a cat-like boy with fluffy, tangled hair walks in, his hands cutely stuffed into the pockets of his grey hoodie. each ear held a shiny white airpod, and his sweats and sneakers told you that just like you, he was probably just here to quickly grab something and be on his merry way, which only made you feel more guilty for what you were about to do.

“oh! actually, there’s my boyfriend,” you shout slightly, praying to every god that the boy’s headphones weren’t soundproof, and that he’d play along.

even at the mention of your ‘boyfriend’, the older man doesn’t back up at all, clearly untrustworthy of your statement as he stays grossly glued to your front.

your new boyfriend definitely didn’t hear you; it was easy to tell in the way he continued to nod his head slightly to his music, walking down the aisle, until for a split second, he met your desperate eyes. at your intense staring, his eyebrows furrow, looking between you and the man before cautiously taking out his airpods. “uh, hello?”

even his voice was cute, damn it. focus. “babe!” you watch worriedly as his eyes widen in surprise at the petname. shit, please play along.

“i’ve been waiting for you, i was just deciding on what ramen flavor we should get.” you hold your breath, both you and the man staring at him intensely.

it was silent for a moment. pleasepleasepleaseplease—

the boy unravels his hands from his pockets, confidently walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. “oh, is that so? and who’s this?” he says, unimpressed as he studies the man up and down.

the man quickly backs up, raising his hands in surrender. “oh, my bad man, i was just—”

your new companion coughs as an interruption, suddenly pushing you back to stand in between you and the man. “trying to flirt with my partner? that’s nice, but i think we’ll be on our way now,” he announces nonchalantly, leading you along next to him as you make your grand escape.

the millisecond you’ve made it to a new aisle of the store, the boy releases you from his protective grip, shyly backing up and bowing instantly. “i’m so sorry, i hope it was okay i touched you i just wasn’t really sure what to do but i—i knew you needed help and—“

you walk up to him as he continues his rant, taking his larger hand in yours in hopes of getting him to calm down a bit. though it seems to have the opposite effect by the way he instantly freezes up, and you barely hold in a laugh at his dumbstruck expression and apple red cheeks.

just moments ago, this boy was standing up to a man much older and bigger than him with a confident hold on your waist; now here he was, refusing to even meet your eyes as he fidgets with his hoodie strings.

“it’s okay, i really appreciate it. what was your name?” you inquire with a tilt of your head.

“jungwon! it’s jungwon.”

“y/n,” you introduce, offering a hand out to him. “say, jungwon,“ he smiles shyly at the way his name flows out of your lips, a harsh dimple poking through his cheek. “wanna come have some ramen with me? y’know, to show my appreciation.” you aren’t quite sure where your sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was due to how timid the boy in front of you was.

jungwon’s head snaps up at your offer, and you coo at his small expression that truly resembles a surprised cat. “oh, sure! i actually came here to buy some anyway.”

that’s how you found yourself hand in hand with a boy you’d only met a few minutes ago, grocery bag slung over your arm while you share his airpods, humming along to music while walking back to your apartment.

“under the moonlight we made our first kiss, ‘cause this is the moment you made me feel like it’s the old love…

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @flyingpotatoes

#delcakoo #enhypen fics #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen drabble #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enha fluff #jungwon imagine #jungwon x you #jungwon x y/n #jungwon scenarios #jungwon drabbles #jungwon fics #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon fics #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon x y/n #yang jungwon #enha fics #jungwon fanfic

[steddieas-shegoes]

Something wasn’t right with the consistency of the batter.

Eddie had triple checked the recipe on the notecard in front of him and it was still wrong.

He tried not to cry out of frustration, but his eyes were stinging and he felt a lump in his throat anyways.

He was in charge of this one tiny thing for Steve’s surprise birthday party. It’s literally all he was asked to do: bake the cake.

He’d gotten the recipe for Steve’s favorite from Claudia at his own insistence that he could definitely handle it and it couldn’t be that hard.

Apparently he couldn’t and it was.

The batter was extremely water-y, definitely not thick like the recipe said it should be. It also was more of a tan color than a brown color, but that wasn’t even something Eddie could be worried about right now.

He was supposed to be done with it 20 minutes ago. Steve would be home from work in 30, and there was no way this would be baked and hidden and cleaned up in that time.

He’d fucked everything up.

What a surprise.

He poured the batter into the cake pan, resisting the urge to just pour it in the trash.

He had to see this through even if it did end up being the failure he expected it to be.

He’d call Claudia while Steve was in the shower if he had to; She was already prepared to help if needed.

He put the cake in the oven and waited.

He watched the timer slowly click down and the clock slowly approach the time Steve would be walking in the door.

He could always just say he wanted to try a new hobby. Steve always said he needed a hobby just for him to do alone. All his hobbies usually involved the kids or his band.

Baking could be a hobby. Probably not though since he couldn’t even get cake batter right.

He was startled by the front door opening.

Fuck.

“You’re early!” Eddie yelled as he tried to hide the recipe card, as if the rest of the mess wouldn’t give away exactly what he was doing.

“Yeah. Robin didn’t need a ride tonight.”

Steve’s voice was closer to the kitchen with every word he spoke and Eddie was going through either a panic attack or an aneurysm.

Maybe both?

And then Steve was standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips, suspicion written clear across his face.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Yeah, that’s good. Act normal. Greet him like you always do. There’s definitely nothing baking in the oven. There’s no dirty dishes in the sink and on the counter and…is that a mixing spoon on the floor? God, he’s a mess.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Steve snorted, amusement taking over instead of suspicion.

“Okay, but this looks like a big mess for nothing.”

Eddie watched as Steve walked behind the counter and took in the rest of the mess.

Dustin and Robin would be so pissed at him for ruining the surprise.

“Just felt like trying my hand at something new.”

“Uh huh. And that something new involves making every dish in the kitchen dirty?”

“It was a test.”

“A test.”

“Yeah. Just making sure everything works.”

Steve nodded once and then turned to Eddie with a smirk.

“Did you make me a birthday cake for my surprise party?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. How the fuck did he know about the party?

“What do you mean?”

“The surprise party that I definitely don’t know anything about but is taking place tomorrow at the Henderson home. I’m assuming this is what you’re in charge of.”

“How did you find out? I was so careful. God, Dustin’s gonna kill me. Robin’s gonna kill me a second, bloodier time. I couldn’t make the cake right, I couldn’t keep anything a secret, now the surprise is ruined and-“

Eddie was cut off by soft lips on his.

When Steve pulled away, he was smiling.

“I love you.”

“I love you too?”

“You didn’t ruin the surprise at all. Dustin did three days ago. He doesn’t know he did though, so please don’t tell him.”

“What?! That shithead threatened my LIFE.”

“I figured.”

“Well, the cake isn’t gonna be right anyways. I fucked it up.”

“Did you add flour?”

Eddie looked at the counter where all of his ingredients were still scattered.

“Uh. Is flour one of those?” He pointed at the sugar and powdered sugar containers.

Steve looked at them, then back at Eddie, then at the oven.

“Let’s get that one out and start over.”

“I knew it! I knew it wasn’t gonna be right! I’m so fucking stupid. I swear to you I followed the recipe perfectly!”

“Baby, it’s okay. It’s just a cake. You did kinda miss the most important part, but we can make a new one.”

“You can’t make your own cake! It’s a surprise party!”

Steve chuckled. “It’s not a surprise anymore. And it’ll be fun.”

It would be fun to see Steve in an apron, mixing ingredients together, getting flour on his nose.

Hm.

“Fine. But if anyone asks, I got it right the first time, and Claudia is in charge next year.”

“Deal.”

Steve sealed it with a kiss, and quickly started washing the dishes.

Their cake turned out perfect and Dustin was so impressed that Eddie not only managed to keep the party a secret, but also make a perfect cake, he told him he could be in charge of next year’s party altogether.

Eddie smirked but went along with it.

Steve never had a surprise party again. Eddie got his help making the cake every year.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tumblr drabbles #stranger things #domestic fluff #baking is a love language to me #I believe that this is actually canon and just happens off screen in season 5 when everyone is alive and well

[cactusnymph]

the right ingredients

Even when he was a child himself Gale was never good at dealing with other children. Burying himself in books all day and using the biggest words he could find to sound impressive and to be as precise as he could never really resonated with most other children—or adults, for that matter.

So when Tav walks over with a child in tow as he carefully cuts some onions for tonight’s dinner, Gale is wary. She is scrawny, with a mop of red hair and two differently colored eyes. The most important thing about her is the fat, fluffy cat at her side, staring at him with huge eyes as if he might throw it in the soup at any second.

“Gale, this is Yenna. She’s staying with us for a while. I thought she could help you cook?”, Tav says with a smile. Gale wishes that smile wouldn’t turn his brain into something that feels much like the bubbling soup in the cauldron looks. He clears his throat.

“Uh—“, he starts, unsure of what he wants to say. The child looks so big-eyed that Gale is afraid she might start crying at any second and that would most likely be even worse than having her cut some carrots. “Have you ever cooked before?”

She shuffles and nods.

“Yes, I’m real good at it! I can make all kinds of stuff. Porridge and omelets and squash soup and—“

As Yenna continues to list a total of eleven dishes she can cook, Tav rustles her hair with a soft look on their face that makes Gale’s insides tingle. Oh, he wishes he didn’t feel the unnecessary pang of jealousy just because he wants them to touch his hair and smile at him the same way. Emotions are to terribly silly.

Gale coughs.

“Well, that sounds very impressive indeed. Yenna, was it? I suppose I can make way for an assistant. Usually I don’t allow others to interfere in my nightly cooking, but! Since our fearless leader recommended your prowess I shall—“

He stops himself as Tav looks at him with an amused smile.

“Right”, he says, catching himself. “How about you peel some of those potatoes over there?”

“Yes! I can do that, sir!”

“Mind me sitting here while you work?”, Tav asks, their head tipped in Gale’s direction. Once again he marvels at the fact that he never really spent much time with anyone, let alone a Tiefling.  Tav’s dark blue skin is not unlike the nightsky, especially with the white freckles covering their entire face and their muscular arms. Gale would like to pretend that he does not spend innumerable minutes of every single day staring at their biceps. But he would be lying to himself, of course.

He allows himself to follow the curvature of their horns and gaze at their glowing white eyes before turning to Yenna.

“So, I see you have a cat companion! As do I. What’s their name?”

“This is Grub”, Yenna says, her tongue sticking out between her lips as she peels a large potato that looks even bigger in her tiny hands. “He’s shy. What’s your cat’s name?”

Gale carefully dumps some sliced onions into the bubbling liquid.

“Her name is Tara. She’s been my companion for a long time and I miss her dearly.”

Yenna smiles at him. She has a front tooth missing.

“Do you also have a cat?”, she asks Tav who is casually chewing on a piece of carrot.

“No, I don’t. Always wanted one, but my pops was allergic”, Tav says with a rueful sigh. Gale notices that their eyes linger on Grub but they keep their respectful distance. Considering Tav’s habit of speaking to every single animal they come across Gale can imagine that they asked permission to pet Grub—and were denied.

Yenna is quiet for a while as she peels potatoes and Gale does his best not to comment on the uneven peeling. He can imagine that Tav would not appreciate him reprimanding a child for less than optimal peeling techniques.

Usually Gale doesn’t allow anyone else to intrude on his cooking, but he has to admit that it’s not too bad to keep his territorial habits in check for a bit, if just to bask in the delightful companionship of Tav. And even though Gale usually doesn’t deal well with children, Yenna doesn’t seem to mind his presence or the way he speaks.

She asks for the meaning of every ‘big’ word that he uses and listens intently as he explains and Tav watches the two of them with a glint in their white eyes.

“This smells so good already”, Yenna sighs and sniffs the air with her eyes closed. “Can I stir it?”

“Certainly”, Gale allows and Yenna grabs the big wooden spoon excitedly before dunking it into the soup. Gale doesn’t cringe. He doesn’t. This is a child in distress that deserves every piece of distraction she can get. Gale can let her stir his soup even though she stirs it as if the spoon is running away from a goblin horde.

“Maybe in the morning you could teach me how to make a proper omelet”, Gale says and Yenna almost drops the spoon into the soup.

“Really?”, she says, her eyes impossibly big. It makes Gale’s heart melt. He might not be well equipped to deal with children but their joy is something precious to behold.

“Absolutely! One should never stop to acquire new skills and knowledge”, Gale says with a nod and a little bow that makes Yenna giggle. Finally, she hands him back the spoon and sits cross-legged on the floor next to the fire as she watches him season their dinner, asking about every single herb he adds to the cauldron.

It takes him a while to notice Tav looking at him with a soft expression on their face.

“Now why are you looking at me like that?”, he can’t help but ask. Tav laughs quietly and shrugs.

“Nothing. Just appreciating your efforts”, they say. Gale would love to hear more about what exactly it is that Tav appreciates, but Yenna is still watching him intently so he goes back to holding out a fresh sage leaf to her so she can smell and taste it before he adds it to the soup.

As the smell of his soup spreads through the entire camp the rest of their colorful band of misfits starts gathering around.

“Well, well, well, Gale, have you finally found your match in the kitchen?”, Wyll says, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he settles down next to Tav on the ground.

Gale waves his spoon.

“Yenna has hereby been promoted to assistant chef”, he answers and Yenna beams.

“I will teach Sir Gale how to make an omelet tomorrow!”, she proclaims proudly, Grub now curled in her lap.

“Very impressive! I can’t wait to taste it”, Wyll says with a smile and winks at Yenna.

“Maybe I can also learn how to make some pie! I love pie. Mister Gale, Sir, can you teach me how to make pie?”

Gale thinks that it seems so mundane compared to everything else he’s been doing with his life up to this point. To sit here, around a fire, stirring a soup for a group of people who—in another life—would never have been in his inner social circle, being asked by a child for cooking lessons. It’s so different from everything Gale has experienced while he was with Mystra.

It’s trivial. It’s simple.

And yet it makes his heart sing in an entirely new way.

“I will have you know, I make the very best cherry pie in all of Waterdeep, young lady”, he says with a little flourish, using the spoon to underline his words dramatically. Yenna claps full of excitement. Grub purrs, Tav laughs and Wyll and Karlach shake their heads about his exaggeration.

And for this moment in time Gale thinks that he could be happy after all.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #yenna #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 fic #mi writes #bg3 spoilers #(for act 3 but mostly in the form of yenna the character)

[wanda-widow]

Wait For Your Love

Civilian!f!Reader x Male!OC, Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!f!Reader

listened to "We Can't Be Friends" and decided to write on a whim.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After loving one person that felt like your everything, you can't find it in yourself to love someone else the way you should and they know it. A run in with the person you loved most doesn't help your case much either.

Warnings: divorce, angst, bad writing (sorry it's my first time)

Don't forget to like and reblog 🫶🏻 please don't copy my work

To say that you had no luck in the relationship department was an understatement. Not one of those cliche “oh, I can’t find love, I’m hopeless” situations, but the kind where you couldn’t find yourself loving someone after you were in love for the first time.

Your first and quite possibly only love was the man you ran into the street one Sunday afternoon in Bucharest. The man that had eyes the color of the ocean in the sunlight and a smile that could warm your insides like hot chocolate. The man who was Bucky Barnes himself, the infamous Winter Soldier, the noble Sergeant. But all that put aside, he was your Bucky, your James. Yours.

Yours until one morning, you went to his small apartment to find it wrecked with no sight of him. Bullet shells littered the floor and the wood was broken near a corner of the room. You didn’t see him since, but he was always a lingering “what if” in your mind.

6 years later, your fourth attempt at love had landed you in a marriage that barely seemed to hold itself together. Owen, your husband, was constantly busy and on days that he wasn’t, all the two of you seemed to do was sit around. “I love you’s” had become a barely heard statement, the efforts to try and rekindle what was once a blooming romance falling flat. Maybe it was partially your fault, looking for what you loved in Bucky in other people. You fell in love with Owen because he had made you feel seen, made you feel that warmness you felt when you were with Bucky, a rare gentleman in a messed up society. A rare gentleman who reminded you a little too much of a certain someone. A rare gentleman who wasn’t Bucky and who didn’t quite love you anymore.

Your eyes fell on the overdue divorce papers on the kitchen counter, various bills and letters covering the majority of it. A full year had gone by since Owen had filed for divorce and yet, neither of you had signed it yet. Gently pulling it out from the stack, you sighed as you ran your fingers over it before reaching for a pen.

“Dammit” you sighed softly, signing your name carefully at the bottom before placing it on the kitchen table where he would see it when he got home for work. Walking to your bedroom, you took in the house one more time, gaze lingering in places where you and Owen would cuddle for hours, make meals, and just be in love. Finding your suitcase in the closet, you packed your essentials before leaving your house keys on the table, leaving the house for good.

Deciding to get some food before you crashed at your friend’s house, you found a small sushi bar and parked your car, entering the shop.

“Welcome to Izzy’s, just take a table anywhere or come sit at the bar” A bartender called out as another staff member ushered you to the bar and put the menu in front of you.

“The California roll’s here are good. Basic, I know, but you gotta try them” A warm voice came from your right as you looked up, nodding and looking back down at the menu before doing a double take. Short brown hair, slight stubble, the same ocean blue eyes and charming grin. The same man you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Bucky?!” came the loud response before you could stop yourself, face flaming red from your loud exclamation as he drank you in, putting the pieces together as well.

“(Y/N)... I uh… it’s been a while” he said quietly, turning so that his stool now faced you, sliding the menu over to the server and ordering for you before looking back. “How have you been?”

“How have I been? How have I…” you scoffed, hand coming up to rest on your head, mind reeling from the sudden change of events and the sheer audacity that he had to ask how you had been after running 6 years ago. To be honest or to lie through your teeth, you went with the latter. “I’ve been stuck wondering every night where you had run off to, James. Better yet, my marriage just ended because he didn’t love me anymore and he…” He wasn’t you. I only loved liked him because he was kind of like you. “We just didn’t work” you ended flatly as you stared at the counter.

“That night…” he started to say, throat bobbing as the memories started to flood back. “I ran because I had to. Fuck, if I could be with you without the risk of your safety, I would, (Y/N).”

“Bullshit on the risk of your safety” you retorted, jaw clenched as you remembered the news announcing that he had gotten a full pardon, that he was partnered alongside the new Captain America. Pushing down the hurt and the longing, you shrugged. “It’s fine, guess some things are better left in the past.”

“Doll, c’mon” he said quietly, watching as you shoved a piece of your California roll in your mouth to avoid talking. “Give me a little time to make amends, gather myself after the whole Flash Smashers situation. A-And then we could try again? Start as friends, see where that goes… I…” Sadness flashed on his face for a moment when he saw how dejected you looked. “Please?”

“Maybe”

“Just a couple months wait. Even less if I push through it” He said earnestly, raising an eyebrow as you shoved another piece of sushi in your mouth, waiting for you to swallow.

“I’ll think about it”

“Remember when we used to cuddle on the small mattress in my apartment. You’d make little hand shadow puppet shows for me until I fell asleep” Bucky pushed on, feeling hope bloom in his chest when a small smile tugged at your lips. “And sometimes we’d sit on the balcony and wait for the stars to come out while we made up constellations because Lord knows we don’t know a single one.”

“Okay” you whispered, eyes finally meeting his. “I’ll wait for your love”

Authors Note: Thank you so much for reading! Appreciate all of you so so much 💗

#Spotify #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #we can't be friends #first post #marvel #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fandom #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fanfiction #winter soldier #white wolf #james barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female yn #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n

[sirspazingtonthefourth]

Game Day

Summary: You go to check out the commotion by you're university's stadium and get roped into going to the game. 4.7k, mostly just fluff, college au, Bakugo x Reader

A/N: Recently got to college and was still unfamiliar with game day schedules. Sorta a mix between me wanting to go to a game and me being confused why there was a mob outside the stadium a couple weeks ago. Not proofread, sorry.

Content warnings: Cursing, depiction of a panic attack

You had never seen so many people from this far away. You’d been part of crowds before, sure. But something about seeing the mass of your school colors outside the stadium, fully three blocks away, unsettled you a little. You knew it was game season, but most of those happened in the evening.

The studious part of you, the part that knew you had to finish taking notes on your biology textbook, told you to ignore the phenomenon. There was probably a good explanation, and if something was wrong someone would show up soon to take care of it. The other part, the ever curious part, demanded you investigate, find out what could cause such a stir. You cursed yourself as you stood from your desk, slipped on your shoes, grabbed your wallet, and left your dorm.

You walked out of your dorm building on a mission: find out what was going on at the stadium. It was maybe a ten minute walk if you were dragging your feet, and you were too interested to do that. You made it in six minutes flat, trying to make out what was going on based on the chatter around you. You couldn’t make any of it out, all the voices blending into one massive cacophony. You started trying to push your way through the crowd.

“Oi, asshole! Wait your turn, we’ll get in soon enough,” you heard someone call right before something tugged on the collar of your shirt strong enough that you stumbled back a few steps. You turned to glare at whoever had decided to touch you, only to be met with burning red eyes.

The red eyes belonged to none other than Bakugo Katsuki, an asshole you shared biology with. Your professor had assigned him to your group, but didn’t talk to each other. The only reason you knew his name is because of the team roster your professor had put out. He seemed to think he was better than everyone, and you stayed away from him because you didn’t agree.

You were surprised to see him here, honestly, since you never saw him just walking around campus. Anytime you saw him outside of class he was either studying or helping someone else study. You didn’t even see him in the dining hall.

“Uh… what?” you shouted above the din. He rolled his eyes, a deepening frown on his face. A few stray blond hairs fell into his face, and he brushed them out of the way.

“Wait. Your damn. Turn. We aren’t going to get in any sooner if you’re at the front of the line.”

“Line for what? And you call this a line?” the blond narrowed his eyes, lip curling in a sneer.

“The line for the game, dumbass. And yes, this is a line!”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You must not have been to many games, then. Fucking amateur.” You glared back at the blond. You hated that he seemed to think he could just be rude to anybody.

“Yeah, I’m an amateur! I don’t even go to the games, I just got curious what the fuss was over here. Enjoy… whatever game you’re here to see,” you said, waving a hand about to indicate that you neither knew nor cared what was going to be happening. You had done what you came here to do, and now your homework was calling your name.

But Bakugo didn’t seem to be done with you. He grabbed your arm as you turned to walk away, and you jerked at the contact. It wasn’t enough to break his hold, and he spun you back around to face him. He seemed more pissed about you leaving than about you supposedly cutting in the mob that apparently passed for a line.

“You haven’t been to the games?” If looks could kill, you’d have been being scraped off the pavement with a spatula right about now.

“No? I have more important things to be doing. Besides, don’t really wanna go anyways.” You muttered the last part, a little embarrassed to admit it. Crowds weren’t your scene. You didn’t like the idea of being so close to so many people. Of being touched by so many people.

“Anyway, I’m leaving now, so-”

“The hell you are!” Bakugo held on a little tighter, and you tried to glare him down. Key word: tried. Surprisingly enough, having eyes like embers was very effective when you were having a staring contest. You looked away a lot faster than you wanted.

“And why is that?”

“You’re already here. Might as well stay and see the game.”

“I told you, I don’t want to. Besides, I have homework I still need to get done.” You were getting a little frantic, trying to pull your arm away from him even as you did your best to mask the discomfort in your voice. “A-and I don’t even have tickets, and I’m still in pajamas because it’s a Saturday and I wasn’t planning on being in public and-”

“And I don’t care. You’re here, you’re going, end of discussion.”

“Please don’t make me,” you begged, turning your head around to see the crowd around you. You didn’t try to hide the fear, hoping he would take mercy on you. It had taken too much out of you to push through the crowd to begin with, and it had only gotten bigger. You didn’t think you could get out now even if he let you go, but maybe you could. You clung to that maybe like a lifeline.

Bakugo, for his part, seemed to take notice of your little predicament. Better than you did, in fact. Maybe it was the tight grip on your wrist, his fingers digging into your pulse point to let him know you weren’t okay. Maybe it was how your head had begun whipping around, as if trying to keep tabs on every single person in the crowd.

He himself started to glance around, looking for someone. When he spotted the telltale red, spiky hair, he called out.

“Oi! Kirishima! Over here!” The redhead turned, a bright smile on his face as he seemed to effortlessly move through the crowd.

“Hey, Bakugo! What’s- oh.” Kirishima noticed you more than you really noticed him. You were too busy trying to shrink in on yourself to notice him. You were flinching at every brush of a sleeve against your arm, apologizing as you seemed intent on shrinking into yourself like a dying star.

“Crowd’s too big behind us. Can you help me clear a path inside?” Bakugo asked, and Kirishima was quick to nod, letting out a sharp whistle that sounded about the general din of the crowd of sports fans.

“Alright, I need everyone to clear a path to the stadium real quick!”

A few other voices sounded, echoing the call for a path. Three people in particular jumped in to help clear a path, and you didn’t have the energy to fight being led towards the big stadium.

You were almost stopped at the front door, arguably where people were pressed together the tightest, by the person keeping everyone from entering. You didn’t know what to call him, you thought. A bouncer? Door guard? Random guy?

“Woah, buddy, I know you guys are part of the student section, but you can’t head in there yet.”

“Please, sir, it’s a bit of an emergency,” Kirishiima explained, gesturing to you. You had your eyes squeezed shut, aware you were panicking and trying to stop it.

“Yeah, sure. You can wait like-”

“If you don’t let us through that door in the next five seconds, so help me god, I will-”

“Woah, Bakugo, easy. Come on, let’s go somewhere else.” The redhead said, walking away from the door guard. The crowd parted for him, leaving a wake big enough for you and Bakugo to follow in without being touched.

After a little more wading through the crowd, Kirishima seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled on a small part of the chain link fence, shifting it just enough for someone to crawl under. Bakugo nodded in thanks to the bigger man and crawled under, dragging you along.

Once inside the stadium fence, he pulled you inside through a nearby maintenance door. From there he navigated you towards one of the main halls. They weren’t lit well, but you could hear how they echoed. There must have been really high ceilings.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. There’s no one around. Look- hey, look at me,” he said, and your eyes snapped to his. They were still intense, emitting the same waves of heat as the embers of a long-tended fire. You tried to look away, but he put his hands to your face, blocking out everything from your view but those eyes.

“None of that. Look at me. You’re fine. No one’s here. Breathe.” You took a shaky breath. Then another. And another, trying to match up with the rhythm of his breath as it echoed through the vast, empty hall.

“Good, you’re doing good,” he said, taking his hands from your face and grabbing your upper arm. “There’s a water fountain nearby. I’m going to take you there, and you’re going to drink, got it?” You nodded, breathing a little more evenly but not willing to talk just yet.

The water did wonders for you. It was cold, unlike the pressing heat of the crowd and your classmate. It grounded you, and when you finally came up for air you could feel that your heart was no longer trying to jump out of your chest. It wasn’t calmed, but it was more manageable.

“Thank you,” you whispered, afraid of how loud the echo would be. You were already jumpy, you didn’t need to make a fool of yourself for startling at your own voice.

“Don’t mention it,” Bakugo said at full volume. It bounced around in the hall, and you flinched at how suddenly it had contrasted with the airy silence that only a wide open space could have. He seemed to not notice.

“Come on. Now that you’re done waterboarding yourself, we’re gonna get you a shirt. Can’t have you at the game in that,” he said with disdain, as if you had intentionally worn your old NASA t-shirt from Target and comfy blue and purple leggings just to upset him.

“But I’m already in a shirt,” you protested. He began walking and, not wanting to be lost when the crowd inevitably came through for the game, you followed him.

“Yeah, but I ain’t letting you wear that shit to the game. It’s disrespectful.” You glared at him.

“I told you, I don’t wanna go.”

“Well it’s go to the game or try and fight your way through the crowd again, and something tells me you don’t have it in you to do that right now. So, we’re getting you a shirt at the very least, you’re gonna change, and we’ll head to the stands so we aren’t pushing through everyone.”

He was right about you not wanting to push through the crowd. You thought you might actually have a heart attack if you tried that again.

“Won’t we get in trouble for being back here? That guy made it pretty clear that no one’s supposed to get in until he gives the go ahead.” Bakugo grumbled ahead of you, and you heard a few choice curses being thrown at the door guy.

“That bastard’s just trying to prove he’s got some kind of power he doesn’t have. Besides, I know the people back here. I’m one of the leaders of the student section, they aren’t exactly gonna go tatling to that prick,” he said. There was a light a few corridors down. It was the only hallway illuminated at all.

“You? Leading the student section?” he huffed, glaring back at you.

“What? Think I can’t?”

“You just… don’t really seem the type,” you said, giving a lopsided smile. He rolled his eyes and looked back ahead of him.

“Yeah, well, I’m not. Hair-for-brains managed to rope me into it, and I’m not about to back out now.” You were getting closer, and saw a stall built into the brick of the building near where the hall emptied into the main room.

“Hair-for-brains? That a, uh… an enemy of yours?”

“What? No. He’s the guy with the red hair, held the fence so we could get inside? Bastard’s been glued to my side since high school, can’t get rid of him.” You finally neared the stall enough to reasonably talk with the person you saw inside, a woman about your age with short purple hair and gauged ears. She was chewing gum and scrolling through her phone, and her shirt was black with a blue guitar on it.

“Oi, Earlobes. Need a shirt,” he said, hooking a thumb at you walking behind him.

“That’s not my name, Bakugo,” she said, glancing up at him. Her eyes settled on you after a second, she tucked her phone in her back pocket. “Who’s this?”

“They’re with me. They’re here for the game, but they need a shirt.” The girl nodded beckoning you forward but continuing to talk to Bakugo.

“I know they’re with you, what’s their name?” He huffed in annoyance instead of answering. It made sense that he didn’t know you, you barely knew him after all.

“Their name’s L/N Y/N, now will you just get them a damn-”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t lose your head,” she said. “What’s your size?”

“Uh, s/s. But, I left my wallet, I don’t have a way to pay for it-”

“Hey, don’t worry. We can just chalk it up to costs of running the student section, right, Bakugo? Anyway, I’m Jiro. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling as she turned to look through the small booth for the right size. She gave a little “aha!” when she found it.

“Feel free to stop by if you need anything else. Enjoy the game,” she said.

“Thanks, you too!” you said. Bakugo grabbed you by the arm again and started dragging you towards the bathrooms.

“Come on idiot, you need to get changed.”

You sat in the empty stands with Bakugo, listening to the crowd outside. They’d come in, soon, and you’d be swarmed, but you would be ready for it. You would be trapped, but you would know it was coming.

“So, have you ever been here?” You turned to him to see him already looking right at you. “In the stands, I mean. I know everyone gets taken to the stadium that first day for the stupid start of the year tradition.” You shook your head.

“No, I haven’t. It’s a nice view, though. Very… high up?” You hadn’t been in a real stadium before. Sure, there were a few times you’d been in the stands at your high school but they weren’t very tall and you hadn’t really thought to remark on them at all. Bakugo seemed to understand though, letting out a small chuckle.

“I guess it is, yeah. Still, we’re pretty low compared to other spots. You’ll be able to see the game better. Gotta make sure you have a good seat for your first game.” You two just looked at each other for a minute, counting down until everyone would swarm the stadium and find their seats and begin cheering and chanting.

“I’m Katsuki, by the way,” he said suddenly. “I don’t think I ever told you my name.”

“I knew your name,” you said quickly. “We’re in the same biology group, remember?” He blinked, as if he was surprised you remembered.

“Yeah, we are. Sorry, I just thought-”

“That some random stranger knew my name?” He looked away, glaring out onto the field as if he was trying to light the grass on fire with just his eyes.

“Sooo…” you said, grasping for a conversation topic. “You’re in the student section.”

“Not just in it,” he scoffed, turning back to you with a shit eating grin. “I’m second in command.”

“Not bad for a freshman,” you said, elbowing him. He elbowed you back.

“Don’t say that like you aren’t one, idiot.” You shoved him in retaliation, and it turned into an all out war, the both of you shoving each other in the stands. You were laughing at the absurdity of it. You were a freshman in college and here you were, rough housing with practically a stranger.

You heard the sound of people starting to flood the stadium. It distracted you from holding your base, and Katsuki shoved the both of you right off of your seats.

“Ha! I win!” he declared from atop you. You rolled your eyes, trying to push him off of you.

“I was distracted, it doesn’t count! And come on, people are coming. We don’t want to lose our seats.” But he stayed put, his face getting red. “Uh, earth to Katsuki? Can you let me up? We’re going to lose our seats otherwise.” He seemed to snap back to himself as he did, quickly pushing himself off of you and helping you stand, trying to avoid looking at you the whole time, which seemed odd. You took your seats as everyone started pouring in.

Katsuki’s friends found you both in the front row and sat with you. You recognized them as the people who had helped you move through the crowd. The redhead you remembered as Kirishima, the bright blond with a black streak dyed into his hair was Kaminari, and the one with black hair was Sero. Jiro came and joined you all, too, bringing a girl with bright pink hair who said her name was Mina. She was by far the most excited to meet you, immediately going in for a hug before you could stop her.

You spent the game with the whole group bumping into you every so often, but you found you didn’t care as much as normal. You were jumping up when everyone else was, screaming when everyone else was, being excited when everyone else was. It made the weird ‘ick’ feeling you got when people touched you diminish. It was still there, but there were more important things to worry about.

Katsuki taught you the chants, usually right before he led the rest of the crowd in them, so you could join in more. You almost fell over once, jumping up when a goal was scored. Katsuki was the one to catch you, pulling you back upright and returning to cheering after making certain you were alright.

You walked out of the stadium smiling and laughing. You were buzzing with energy. You knew some of it was the shaky, panicky kind from being in such close proximity to so many people, but most of it was excitement. You’d been a part of a crowd, instead of just being in one. You’d been able to channel the adrenaline rush you got when being touched into something more constructive than shying away and panicking.

“Stupid, shitty ass team. Didn’t even win. The fuck do they do all that training for if they aren’t going to take the game seriously?” Katsuki grumbled next to you.

“Hey, they took that game plenty seriously, Bakubro,” Kirishima said to try and cheer him up.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Lighten up, Bakugo. They lost by a single point, and that was only because the ref made a fake call to open the chance for a field goal,” Mina offered, decidedly avoiding the nickname Kirishima had used.

“Wasn’t that in overtime, too? Feel like they wouldn’t have let that happen if they weren’t taking the game seriously.” You had very little understanding of sports in general, but you understood the concept of overtime enough to recognize it. You didn’t know enough to know if the penalty the ref called in the last minute had been valid or not.

Regardless, Katsuki just grumbled.

“Doesn’t make it any better. Pinky’s right, the ref made a shit call. We should’ve won at that point.” You rolled your eyes and elbowed him.

“Well there’s nothing we can do about it, Katsuki. We lost, that stuff happens. We’ll do better next time,” you tried to reassure him. To your surprise, he flinched. Everyone turned to look at you as if you’d sprouted a second head.

“Did you just call him…” Kaminari looked around, as if someone would get him for what he was about to say, then leaned in to whisper to you, “...the ‘K’ word?”

“Katsuki? Yeah? That’s his name, right?” You turned to him to double check, but Katsuki refused to meet your eyes.

“Well, we hope to see you at the next game, Y/N!” Jiro said, slowly walking away while trying her best to hide a smile.

“Yeah, you too. Hope to see you before then, too,” you said with a confused smile. Why was she acting weird?

“You know, we’ve got a study group that meets Wednesday nights at the library, if you want to come! Blasty over there runs it,” Kaminari chimed in.

“You wouldn’t think it, but he’s a strangely good teacher! He’s the only reason I passed my first chem test,” Mina said, shooting a playful grin to the blond walking on your left.

“What’s that supposed to mean, dumbass?”

“Relax, Bakugo. She’s right, you don’t seem like the mentoring type,” Kirishima said, resting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. He was also fighting back a smile. Well, a bigger smile than he was already wearing.

“You are a bit loud and angry for a teacher, I’ll be honest,” Kaminari piped in, earning a death glare from the blond.

“Right, that’s our cue to go,” Sero said with a clap, grabbing Kaminari’s shoulder and starting to walk backwards. “Y/N, it was nice to meet you, if you want to join the study group we meet at 6 on the second floor of the library. It’s Mina’s turn to bring snacks, so we’ll be fueled for it. Anyway, see ya!” He turned around and sprinted off before Katsuki could chase after him and Kaminari.

“What’s up with them?” You asked.

“Oh, Bakugo’s known to try and strangle Kaminari. Those two are best friends and Kami doesn’t always know when not to say things, ADHD and all, so it falls to Sero to keep him alive when he says stupid things,” Kirishima explained.

“Anyway, Mina, you wanna go try that gyro place that just opened?” Kirishima said, the mischievous smile he’d been holding back finally breaking through

“Do I ever! Let’s go, Kiri. Have fun, you two!” And with several backwards glances and titters, Kirishima and Mina ran off.

“Well, they all seemed in a hurry to leave,” you said, rubbing your arm. It had been right after you called Katsuki by his name, too. They’d made a deal of it, before they all ran away.

“Did… Did I say something?” you asked the blonde, still walking next to you towards your dorm.

“No, those idiots just don’t know how to leave.”

“Oh. I just… nevermind.” You were the one refusing to meet his eyes now, and you could feel them boring into your temple as you looked around the street.

“I don’t let them call me by my name. That’s why the idiots got all weird.”

“Would you prefer if I don’t-”

“I told you to call me Katsuki, it’s fine,” he said, cheeks getting pink again.

You both walked together quietly for another block. It was a warm evening in mid September, and you relished in the warmth that rose from the ground. You looked up through the trees to see what color the sky was painted this time, just to say you were doing something. It was usually a gorgeous red, but sometimes it was a pink or an orange. That was the best part of your dorm: you could see the sunsets.

“You said you had homework to do?”

“Hm?” Katsuki kept looking at you as you pulled your eyes from the sky, and you froze for half a second. You’d recognized on some level that he was pretty, with his spiky blond hair and his seemingly constantly scowling face and his ember eyes. But something about the golden hour lighting made you realize he was pretty. You quickly looked away before he could see the blush on your face.

“Earlier, you said you still had homework to do. What was it for?”

“Oh, I’ve got to finish getting through this week's biology chapter. It’s taking a bit longer than I planned, but-”

“I can help. If you want me to.” You blinked at him, a little surprised that he would offer.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ve got your own homework, and I can’t ask you to do that anyway.”

“Unlike some people,” he said, giving you a playful glare, “I actually make sure I have my shit done before I go to a game.”

“Damn, alright.” You walked a few more paces in silence. “I mean… if you’re offering, I’d appreciate the help,” you admitted, refusing to look at him in the golden hour light. You had to keep it together, dammit.

“Well, I am. Hurry up, the sooner we get back the sooner we can be studying. We doing it in your room?

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you said, trying not to think too far into that.

“Cool. You’re roommate know?”

“Oh, I don’t have a roommate. They never showed up,” you said, maybe a little too quickly. Katsuki just glanced at you in his periphery, refusing to look at him, and nodded. You didn’t see his little smile.

By the time you’d finished getting through the chapter with Katsuki it was well into the night. He lived in a dorm several blocks away, and you weren’t about to let him walk that far in the dark, safe campus or not.

“Well, if you’re going to hold me hostage here, you wanna watch something?”

“Sure. Any suggestions?” he thought for a moment, before gesturing you to hand him your laptop. You did, and he pulled up the campus movie website and picked something before collapsing on the empty bed in the room. You clambered up into your bed to get the one blanket big enough for two people and hopped down. Once you were on the bed with him, you quickly arranged the blanket so you two both had some and settled in to watch the movie.

Halfway through, Katsuki felt something slump against him. He looked down to see you, leaning against his shoulder. You were out cold, and right as the movie was getting to the good part. He sighed, pausing the movie and closing the laptop. He set it off to one side and pulled out his phone to check the group chat.

He’d known it’d blow up the second he was left alone with you, so he’d set it to silent earlier, but now he could look through all the messages. It was all on the same topic, and the idiots were still talking. Kaminari was the first person to notice he was online.

“Dude! That’s the person you’ve been talking about? The one from bio?” he sent. Katsuki rolled his eyes, typing back quickly before the others swarmed him with questions.

“Yes, that was them. No, I’m not telling you morons anything. I’m going to bed.” He was about to put his phone down when one last notification banner came down from his private chat with Kirishima.

“So, how’d it go? Did the studying idea work?” Katsuki glanced down at you, sleeping on his shoulder. The game and studying combination must have really exhausted you if you passed out so easily and didn’t notice that you were leaning on him. It was cute.

“Worked great. Thanks for the idea, Red.”

“Knew it! Figured it must’ve gone well when you didn’t come back to the dorm.”

“Whatever, dumbass. Night.”

He tossed his phone next to your laptop and leaned back into the wall. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleeping position, but he knew if he moved you would wake up. So he took a breath and closed his eyes for the night, heart fluttering at the idea of being there first thing in the morning to talk to you again.

#katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha #bnha #college au #tw: panic attack

[powerfultenderness]

Death's Angel

Pairing: König (stalker/serial killer)/Fem!Reader

Rated: Explicit. 18+

Summary: "Please just let me go! I promise I won't tell! I have a wife! I have a child!" He's heard all the pleas before, but König is finally struck with the oddest dying wish he's ever heard. "Can you kiss me?"

Word Count: 22,480

Warnings:  Rape/Non-Con: Sexual assault, I do NOT go into detail on that part, but uh, it's there. Dub-Con/Consensual non-consent: (+mentions of rape/cnc porn). CNC as a coping mechanism, which (in this case) is dubious as it is not discussed beforehand. + Blood play, knife play, degradation. (Non-consensual) voyeurism (König is a stalker). Violence (König is a serial killer). Fluff (lol it's actually pretty sweet)

A/N: Based on [an ask] I got a couple of months ago. 4 parts in 1. [Read on AO3] for chapter divisions.

[Multi-fandom Masterlist]

[Death’s Kiss]

He cursed himself for getting distracted. But, as much as the military would like to believe he isn't, he is only human. And a particularly buxom woman overtly flirting with him had drawn his eyes from his target. He rejected the woman's advances (maybe he will find her later, there was nothing quite like fucking after killing), and went about searching for his target. Unfortunately he had to be discreet, he couldn't just push people out of his way, as much as he would love to.

He caught sight of a back exit and followed his instincts, they hardly ever led him astray, and took the chance that his target had left this way. He’d only taken a few steps into the dark alley when he heard sounds of a struggle. ‘What’s this?’ He followed the sound of a frustrated groan quickly followed by a “fuckin’ bitch!” and a woman’s scream cut short. 

König stuck to the shadows, plenty around this late, and slipped his sniper hood on as he rounded a dumpster. There was his target, a man in his thirties, with one hand over a woman’s mouth and the other holding a knife he just shoved into the woman’s stomach. 

Interesting. König couldn’t exactly say what drew him to kill certain targets. He just saw someone and decided. Sometimes he’d do recon, other times, like tonight, he’d just see what the night had in store for him. This was the first time he had come across one of his targets committing well, if the woman’s torn dress and the man’s hand now stuffed under her skirt were anything to go by, sexual assault and likely murder. 

König could understand murder. He might even respect it. But he could not tolerate rape. There were always one or two men in his unit he had to keep an eye on. Who were likely to take advantage of the women of a war torn country. Not only were those the easiest of his victims to cover up, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the higher ups placed them on his team on purpose. Let him deal with the troublemakers before they get out of hand. 

Why he should have contempt for one heinous act over another was also something he didn’t bother to think about. Thus he didn’t bother to think when he pulled his target off of the woman. 

-

Red. He’d forever associate this moment with red. Your eyes, which caught his for a fraction of second as he grabbed the man’s shoulder, were red, either from tears or because the man had hit you, or both. There was a bright red ribbon that matched the color of freshly spilled blood hanging loosely from your hair, spiraling elegantly down your shoulder before getting stuck to your skin with blood. Blood, dark red and spilling freely in some places, already clotting in others, almost looked fake. Too…pretty. Most beguiling of all, were splashes of red across your lovely white dress, from the top, which was now ripped free of your body, to the flared skirt.  

Red had always been his favorite color. 

The man was quick enough on his feet to regain his balance and pull out of König’s grasp, if only for a moment, as he reeled and threw a wild punch at König.

König caught the first easily, smiling under his mask, as the man’s eyes went wide as he realized how much bigger König was. “F-fuck!” 

He tried to yank his fist back, which König let go of as he hooked one boot behind the man’s foot. He chuckled as the man flailed and fell on his ass with an undignified scream. Before the man could get back to his feet and run away, König planted his boot on his chest and leaned down. 

“What should I do with you, hm?” König hummed playfully while leaning down and pressing his weight onto the man’s chest even more. He had been planning on taking the man to a secondary location, an out of the way warehouse at the edge of town, so he could take his time. But even now he was aware of a second set of eyes on him.

“N-nothing! You can have her, let me go!” The man struggled against König’s boot, and struggled to breath as König pressed down again. 

“Her?” He looked over his shoulder at you, hunched against a wall with blood slowly forming a puddle around you. 

You should have been crying for help, or trying to get to your phone that he could see a few feet from you. You should have been trying to save your life. But instead you were watching him. Your eyes were glazed over as your life slowly drained away, but you were watching him. No. You were watching him kill your attacker, waiting to see what happened. And a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. He never had a witness before…

Then he looked down again, “what use is a dead woman?” 

That’s when the man screamed, using what little strength he had to try to punch König’s leg. 

“Ow.” König deadpanned, but removed his foot from the man’s chest anyways. 

He let the man scramble to his feet, but when he turned to run away, König grabbed him by the back of his head, his giant hand making a viscous grip in the man’s hair, and yanked him back. The man screamed, hands flying to the back of his head to try to pry König’s hand off of him. König lifted the man into the air before slamming him face first into the brick wall in front of them.

Not even the muffled and gurgled screams could drown out the sickening crunch of bone. While still holding the man’s face into the brick wall, he turned to look at you, looking for the familiar fear that should be in your eyes. There was none. Again, you weren’t even looking at him, not really. You were looking at the man, weakly struggling against König’s hold. 

Hm. There was no fear in your eyes. But you were alert to…something. Too close to Death, maybe? He wondered what it would take for you to react.

Without even looking back at the man, he pulled his fist back for a moment, the man gasping for air through broken teeth, and slammed him back into the wall. It was at that point that the man went limp in his hand. Your only reaction was to cough, blood spraying from your mouth and down your chin.  

‘Nothing?’

Returning his attention to the man, König pulled the back from the wall again and with his free hand grabbed the side of the man’s face. In one quick motion he pulled and snapped the man’s neck. That earned him…a cough for sure, but, was that a laugh turned to a cough? 

He dropped the man and kicked the body over, making sure that he was really dead, when he noticed you moving out of his peripheral. You had wrapped both hands over the handle of the knife protruding from your stomach.

“You’ll only bleed out faster.” He raised his voice and turned his head enough to look at you again.

You froze and looked up at him as he slowly turned from the man to you. From where he had planted himself, he took  in more of your appearance, of your wounds. Your hands, now resting weakly in your lap, were cut from a blade and scraped up from the brick wall you were pushed into and cement below you, proving that you had at least attempted to fight back before being overpowered. There was a large gash below your neck and over your collarbone that leaked blood onto your nude chest. A shame, a quick thought crossed his mind, that such a pretty pair of tits is going to die.

His eyes followed down the rivulet of blood from your chest to your waist. Oh. Cherries. What he initially mistook as blood splatter all over your pretty white dress was in fact part of the dress itself, a pattern of cute little cherries. What a vision you were, must have looked like a little angel before you met your fate. 

“Hey,” you croaked out in a heavy, wet, sigh. 

Since it seemed to take so much effort to get one word out, he did you the favor of moving closer to you. Once he was near enough to you, his eyes drifted down to the knife. He didn’t kill that man to save you. In fact, it was his intent to let you die. He could finish the job. Do it quickly too, as a mercy. 

“Can you-” You breathed out another heavy sigh, attempting to curb a cough. “-kiss me?”

König’s eyes snapped up to your face, blinking and his head tilting even more as he processed your question. Did he hear you right? “What?” 

“I want,” you paused and licked your lips that were both dry but slick in blood. “My last kiss to be my choice.” 

Ah! He blinked once more as he looked at your pathetically small body and the puddle of blood under you. You knew you were going to die. 

He never had a witness to one of his killings. He also never fulfilled someone’s dying wish. An odd night of firsts. He dropped down to one knee next to you and nodded. “Alright.” What was the harm in it?

With one gloved hand he gently tilted your chin towards him and lifted the bottom of his hood with the other. His eyes slid shut as he softly pressed his lips to yours. He meant for it to be chaste, just a small peck to honor your wish, but the metallic tang of your blood slipped into his mouth, and he liked it. The coppery blood was tinged with a hint of what he could only describe as sweet. He had never tasted blood like that. His own was acrid in comparison. He wanted more. 

He leaned down closer and pressed his lips just a bit harder against yours, agitating the cut on your lip. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, gently sucking on the cut in your lip to draw more blood into his mouth and he had to hold back a moan. As tempted as he was to shove his tongue further, a pained whimper from you stopped him. He pulled away, licking his lips as he dropped his hood back in place.

You coughed out a muttered “thank you,” and sighed, like you were ready to accept your death. 

Too bad he hadn’t met you earlier in the night, he thought as he looked at you again. Then, and he’s not sure why he even tried, he pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut away at the top of your dress that was already hanging off of your body. “Remain calm, Engel.” 

Once he had a sufficient amount of fabric he pressed it around the knife wound. “Keep pressure here.” 

Your hands, small and weak, took over and despite the pained cry, you did as he said.

He stood up quickly and picked up your phone, or what he simply assumed was your phone. The screen was cracked but still lit up as he pressed a side button. The emergency number was just one press away from being dialed. 

He hit dial and returned to you, helping you stem the bleeding once more, and held the phone up to your mouth. “Tell them where we are. You might live if they’re fast enough.” 

You coughed out an answer to the operator, barely managing a weak “help” with a street name and the name of the club you stepped out of. 

You were unconscious by the time he saw emergency lights, but at least you were still alive. He remained with you as long as he could, daring even a few seconds too long, and slipped away before police and paramedics found you. And the body of the man who attacked you.

Even as König sat in his truck, forcing himself to relax, he knew it would be better for him if you died. 

He hoped you lived. 

[Death’s Touch] 

A week ago he met a dying angel with sweet and pretty blood. He expected the police to show up within a day or two. Even if he hadn’t shown his face to you, or done something so stupid as to give you a name, how many behemoth men with Austrian accents were there in the city? That simple description of him was the reason why he was careful there were no witnesses to his killings. That simple description was why he had considered letting you die in that alley. 

But the police never showed up. 

König frowned as he fit the last piece of the gun he had been meticulously cleaning in place. Did the police not show up because you…died? He waited too long to help you and now he’d never even get to know your name.

Of course, he didn’t know for sure that you were dead, and that had him anxious. He had to know.

A few days later, and an I.O.U to Hutch, König was able to read the police report from that night. He learned three important things. The first was that you were still alive. The second was that there was no mention of him, or even a rescuer. No description of a large man. No APB out on him. And lastly, he learned your name and address.

You lived in a modest flat, the worst thing about it was its utter lack of security. There wasn’t even a gate. It was too easy to find various watch points that looked into your flat. Or would have. You apparently weren’t in the habit of opening your curtains. Only a good thing, as far as he was concerned, who knows what kind of creeps could be watching?

For a day, he wondered if he had the right flat. He’d been watching all day and didn’t see you once. Just before his patience wore out the next day, however, food was delivered to your flat and he finally caught a glimpse of you again. 

That was it. The confirmation he needed. You were alive and for whatever reason you didn’t tell the police about him. Both good things. 

He could leave. He could forget about you now. 

…

It was two days later when you finally left your flat. Yes, he was still watching your flat, a sense of relief flooding him every time you opened the door for food. 

He followed you until you parked at a clinic. He knew there would be cameras all over the place, so he continued driving and didn’t pull into the same parking lot as you. Instead he drove to the next light, made a u-turn and parked at the drug store across the street. 

An hour and a half later he saw you leave the clinic. You were fast, one might even say you were lightly jogging. As he started his truck to follow you, he realized that you walked at that same speed when you left the flat. 

“Oh, my little angel. Are you frightened?” 

Too scared to leave the safety of your home most days, and barely leaving to see a doctor. Well, he couldn’t blame you.

A part of him was content knowing that he would be able to easily find you now. 

Just his luck, though, his leave was up and he had to ship out to a new base. Hopefully, by time he got back you would still be holed up in your little flat, safely tucked away for him.

-

By the time he was granted leave again, it had been four months since you were attacked. It didn’t take him long to find you again. Of course you were at home, and that morning he followed you to an office, then back home. A routine. Having a solid routine helped with his own anxiety, of course it would ease yours. 

The only thing that did surprise him was that from his old vantage point, and with the help of a scope, he was able to see into your bedroom now. Not a full view, but the curtains were cracked just enough. The weather had been getting better, had you opened your window at one point and weren’t so diligent with the curtains when you closed it? 

Blue light softly illuminated your room as you settled into bed that night. He could sympathize with you. He knew plenty of men who could not sleep without the aid of some kind of white noise. But as he watched you through his scope he realized that the tossing and turning he thought was keeping you awake was more intentional than not. There was no mistaking the way you were rolling your hips.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned forward in his truck, as if that could somehow get him a better view through your window. 

His dick twitched when you turned to lay flat on your stomach, your hips rocking faster against the pillow (or blanket?) that you had between your legs. He thought about you in that alley, looking all pretty so close to death, “-kiss me?” and tasting so sweet. 

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your head hanging down but still turned away from him. Not that he could really make out your figure fully, his mind was filling in what he could not see. One of his hands dropped to his crotch to adjust his pants, but didn’t touch his semi-hard dick. He liked to think he had more self control than that. Until he remembered that little whimper you let when he kissed you too hard and he needed to hear you again.

Before he could stop himself to weigh his decision, he was already out of the truck and halfway across the parking lot. He was called a human battering ram, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be stealthy, or pick a lock. In fact, he was already trying to think of a way to get you new, better, locks since it was so easy to break into your flat. 

The lights were all off and in dark clothes and his sniper hood, it was easy to blend into the shadows. The place was small, the door opened into an open concept living room to kitchen. He paid no mind to furnishing, focusing instead on the light that emanated from the bedroom. 

As he got closer to the door, left slightly ajar, the sound of heavy breathing got louder. It was a sound that sent an excited thrum through his veins as he leaned against the wall and peeked into the bedroom.

In the time it had taken for him to enter your flat, you had switched positions again. You were sitting up on your knees, back towards him (the door, rather), with a blanket pooled around you and a pillow between your thighs. You weren’t wearing anything provocative, just a large tee shirt from what he could see, but it was bunched up around your hips just reaching your bare thighs. 

He could feel his body getting hotter, his dick getting harder, but he was trained well enough to keep his breathing steady, quiet. Fuck though, what he would give to see you from the front, or below. To have you riding his cock like that, your soft hands planted firmly on his chest as you were now bracing yourself on the bed. 

You let out a gasp, such a sweet sound that went straight to his dick, and arched your back, one hand flying behind you to steady yourself while the other pulled the pillow harder against you. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring your breaths, as he imagined gripping your hip, you’d probably cry out from how rough his hands were, but you’d like it anyway. He imagined watching his cock stretching out your little pussy while his other hand played with your clit.

When he opened his eyes again, he glanced over at the laptop (the source of light that he initially mistook for a television) but it wasn’t angled right for him to see what was on the screen. It was obvious, with the way you kept your eyes on the screen, though. There was no sound that he could hear, so he figured you were wearing earbuds. What kind of porn did his little angel like to watch? Huge cock, perhaps? Did you fantasize about taking a cock as big as his? 

Underneath his hood he had to bite down on his lips to keep from groaning, especially when you started to moan as you started to bounce and grind your pussy harder onto that stupid fucking pillow. He could give you something so much better to rub your pussy on. 

One of your hands snaked under your shirt to play with your tits, your whines getting a little louder and he squeezed his fists hard. If he touched himself now, he wouldn’t stop until he came, and that was a little too risky right now. 

Just as he was about to give in and stuff his hand down his pants, you let out a muffled moan, one hand covering your mouth, even though no one was (supposed) to be around to hear you. Your hips slowed down to gentle rolls as you leaned forward, slowly stretching out and riding out your orgasm. His hips jerked forward, seeking friction against nothing, and his eyes rolled back at your moan. 

Your little whimpers still filling the air only made his cock throb painfully hard in his pants. He remained still, watching as you slowly got up and moved to the other side of the room. Judging by the light suddenly flooding the room for a second only to fade when he heard a door close, he assumed it was the bathroom. He sighed, leaning against the wall, and took a deep breath, hoping to catch your scent. 

He quickly left while you were cleaning up, and took extra care to make sure your door was locked. 

As soon as he made it back to his truck, he tore off his gloves, shucked his pants down just enough to pull his dick out and spit in his hand. He leaned back, eyes closed as he recalled what he had just seen with vivid detail. 

"Mmm, fuck. Engel." He mumbled under his breath as his hand pumped fast strokes up and down his cock. 

He could still see you humping your pillow, still hear the symphony of your moans filling the air. He squeezed harder, rolled his hand over the tip of his cock and spread the ample precum down the shaft. He was so close already. His hips bucked up as he fucked his fist, picturing you bouncing on his cock. He groaned, your name slipping out of his mouth, even though you had yet to formally introduce yourself to him. 

His whole body tensed, his breath coming out in desperate ragged pants, as he stroked himself faster. A litany of curses, in both English and German, filled the cabin as he came. He continued to stroke himself slowly, with a loose grip, as he eased himself down, just as had. He even imagined himself burying his nose in the crook of your neck, or resting his forehead on your shoulder, making you whimper from lazy and sloppy kisses.

He finally opened his eyes, a spark of sadness in his heart as he saw nothing but the roof of his truck instead of the vision that was you. He sighed and reached the hand that wasn't covered in his own cum around the passenger seat to grab a few napkins he'd thrown there earlier. 

Once he cleaned up, as well as he could, he returned home. He just needed a few hours of sleep. He knew your schedule, he'd return later.

-

He arrived back at your flat after you should have left for work. He scanned the car lot to make sure your car was gone (it was) and made sure the coast was clear to break into your flat again (it was). This time he did take a moment to take in the space. Everything was meticulously clean, spotless, not even dust in high up places. He wondered if you were like this before the attack, or if this was a result of self isolation. 

Then he moved over to the bedroom. Just like the living room, everything was nicely in order and the bed was perfectly made. Excited warmth spread through him when he saw two pillows sitting on your bed. He slipped his hood off, hooking it in his waistband, and dropped onto the bed. He took a deep breath and nuzzled his face into one of the pillows. An incredibly intoxicating mix of perfume and detergent and you filled his senses and he hummed in delight. 

One hand reached up and gripped the other pillow, feeling the softness, about to bring it to his chest when he paused. He spotted your laptop on the nightstand and sat up. He picked it up, a tube of cherry chapstick rolling to the other side of the nightstand, and opened it up. He watched the screen as it loaded. 

No password? Well, he supposed that made sense considering you lived alone. 

Now, he tapped away, what had you so worked up last night? 

His eyebrows shot up, eyes a little wide, as he made his way through your browser history. “Oh, Engel.” He felt himself getting excited as saw various types of CNC and rape porn. “You still think about that night.” Honestly, he did too. 

Before he got too turned on, he made sure to clear the history and set the laptop back where he found it. Then he got up and straightened out the bed. 

If that was what you wanted, he would be happy to help fulfill your fantasies.

-

It had been four months since your attack. Everyone around you had been sympathetic at first. It was a bit overwhelming, having people you barely talked to go out of their way to make sure you weren’t feeling unsafe. It only took two months for them to move on. It was a blessing in that you felt like you finally had space to breathe, but now people were unpredictable, unwanted casual touches or getting too close to you, and it had you retreating back to your cubicle every time. 

When you declined invitations to go out, people would joke that you were being boring. Maybe it was time you moved on too?

The next time you were invited out, you agreed, on the condition that you didn’t have to go home to change. 

“Yay! That’s fine! Trust me, it’ll be fun!” Your friend and coworker said as she slapped hand on your shoulder.

You winced and moved out of her touch with the excuse of needing to get back to your desk. The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful and you soon found yourself at a new bar.

Thirty minutes in, once the appetizers were gone and the alcohol flowing freely, your work friends got to be a little much. You didn't want to drink, you were assured that no one would be getting drunk. That was wrong, of course, and you silently wondered if you were invited just to be designated driver and get everyone home safely. You were not going to do that.

It was easy to slip away unnoticed. You just needed some space and so headed towards the back where the bathrooms were. 

For a Friday night it felt oddly empty. Maybe because it was out of the way, maybe because it looked like an employee only area. Whatever the case, you’re thankful for-

You didn’t even have to catch your breath before you were suddenly pushed into a wall, a large hand clasp around your mouth preventing you from screaming. Fear and panic shot through your body as memories of the night you were attacked surfaced, fueling your struggle. Not again, not here, not with so many people around. 

Both of your hands pulled at the hand on your mouth and you finally looked up only to freeze. Even the panic in you seized up, unsure whether or not you were being threatened. Piercing blue eyes stared at you from underneath a black hood. The bleach stained tear streaks are a frightening illusion of humanity that you’re not certain is even there. 

“You!” Well, at least that what you tried to say, his hand still muffled your voice.

This man, the man who saved you that night, held you up against the wall, your toes barely scraping the floor, with one hand covering your mouth. It was almost the exact same position your attacker held you in right before he stabbed you. Part of you wanted to panic still, had your heart racing and breathing quickly. But another part of you was just…confused. He wasn’t doing anything else but holding you. If he had wanted to kill you, among other things, he could have done it back in that alley. Instead he saved you. He killed the man who attacked you. He helped you call an ambulance. He stopped you from bleeding out. You didn’t even say a word about him to the police. So why would he want to hurt you now?

You tried to calm your breathing as you stared up into his eyes. Cold blue locked you into place, but the danger in his eyes wasn't malice. It was something else entirely. 

Finally he lifted his hand from your mouth, you drawing in a gasp of air, and set you fully back on your feet. His free hand remained firmly planted on the wall beside your head, keeping you in place flush between him and the wall. Then he gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb, landing where a now healed cut once split your lip. Your heart raced, heat blooming across your face, as you remembered his kiss. That kind of intensity in a kiss, in any other situation, would have been erotic. Really, you had been on the verge of death and it was still probably the best kiss you'd had in years. 

You whimpered at his touch. He had been so rough even though he thought you were going to die and now the pressure of his thumb on your lip sent an arousing wave of fear through you. 

He leered down at you, eyes starting to dilate, "tell me to stop." 

With your heart hammering in your chest, it took a moment for you to register his words. What? 

You opened your mouth, no words forming, and his thumb slipped past your lips and grazed your teeth. You whined, which only seemed to spur him on, and he pushed against your jaw even more, forcing your mouth wider. “Speak up, Engel.” 

He was so close to you, his knee slid between your legs, rubbing against your core and pushing you higher against the wall again. You let out a shuddering gasp, your hands flying from him in an attempt to stabilize yourself against the wall, but you made no move, made no demand, to stop him. He rocked his knee up, grinding slowly and gently into your pussy, drawing a quiet moan from you. Your pussy clenched when he put pressure on your clit and you bit down on his thumb, hot tongue brushing against the invading digit. 

König grinned, though you could not see it, and chuckled. He leaned even closer to you, hood pooling over your shoulder and growled in your ear. “Fucking slut.” 

This time your gasp was cut short as he slapped a hand across your mouth again. He lifted you with ease, tucked you against his body and dragged you out of the bar through the back door, not one person seeing the quick departure. 

You struggled against him, hands flying to the one over your mouth and you clawed at him, you kicked your feet but he was so big and tall that he easily held you above the ground. He wanted to chuckle. You reminded him of a feral kitten caught by animal control. Just as cute, or cuter, even.

He didn’t drop you until he reached the side of the bar. There was a gate separating the dingy little alley and the parking lot, decorative trees planted near the gate. It was unlocked, he made sure it was before he approached you, but it still would still provide the illusion that you were trapped.  

You grunted when your feet hit the ground, stumbling forward into the brick wall. You tried to duck around the man, but he easily swung you back in front of him, pushing you against the wall, though he cushioned the back of your head with one large hand.

You looked up at him as you drew in panicked, quick breaths. Just like before, he leered down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. You bit your lip, his eyes flicking down to watch as your teeth worried at your bottom lip. “Wh-what do you want?”

His eyes looked back up and slowly he lifted a knife you hadn't even seen him grab to your throat. You stilled and tipped your head back, attempting to get the blade away from your delicate skin. There was a scar on your neck that you usually kept covered up, but like this, it was exposed to him.

He traced the scar with the tip of his knife, “what do you want, Engel?”

You swallowed thickly, holding as still as possible so he didn't slice through your skin. And you didn't answer him.

He huffed, “do you want me to stop?” The knife dragged down the scar to the collar of your shirt. “That's all you have to say, my dear.”

As much as you tried to control your breathing, your chest was heaving, drawing his eyes down to it for a moment before he looked up again. That hood made it difficult to read him, but his eyes were so expressive. You knew what he wanted. The heat in his eyes matched the nearly overwhelming heat his large body gave off. The same heat you could feel swelling in your body. You swallowed again, your mouth refusing to answer his question.

“No?” The knife slipped underneath your collar and he tugged, slicing through the fabric. 

It was so similar yet different to the sound of fabric being torn apart and ripped off of your body. It was cleaner, sharper and the definite but soft scratch of the tip of the blade on your heated skin sent your pulse wild. He hummed as he cut open your shirt, revealing the plain bra underneath.  

You hadn't even realized just how hard you were breathing, how much your chest heaved with every breath, until his blade bounced on the swell of your breast and he sucked his teeth. “Stay still.” He growled out, eyes flicking up to your eyes and away from your exposed chest.

You bit back a high pitched gasp, holding your breath as he dragged the blade across your chest, until he reached the left bra strap.

You shivered as you heard the soft ping of the knife slicing through the strap. He once again looked up from your chest to your eyes, his own narrowing in disapproval. “Perhaps you want to be hurt, hm?”

You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to hold your breath again to remain as still as possible. He slowly moved the tip of the knife across your chest again, this time angling it so more of the edge touched your skin. Another ping and you flinched as the other strap of your bra was cut.

He was silent for only a moment, the flat of the blade resting near the middle of your chest, just by your left breast, every beat of your heart making it jump ever so slightly. You could hear his heavy breaths, almost feel them against your face, even through that terrifying hood. For a moment, in that silence, you thought you were safe. That he was done.

Until he quickly shoved his free hand up the back of your shirt and unhooked your bra clasp. You squealed, eyes flying open, and jumped as he ripped what remained of your bra off of you. You only caught a glimpse of his eyes, blown wild with lust, before he spun you around and pushed you face first into the brick wall.

Your hands, which had been covering your chest in an attempt to save your dignity, were now bracing you against the wall so you didn't smash your face into it. You shivered again, remembering how he killed your attacker months ago, by shoving him so hard against a brick wall that he lost consciousness.

The hand holding the knife came to rest to the right side of your face against the wall. The metal gave an unnerving scrape against the brick that caused another shiver to run down your spine. His left hand snaked around to grope your left breast. His large hand, hot and rough, cupped your soft flesh with ease.

“Such pretty tits,” he hummed as he pinched your nipple, drawing another distressed squeak from you as your nipples hardened under his touch.

Your eyes were screwed shut once again and you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. You pressed your body as close to the wall as you could, but that only made him close in on you more, his crotch now firmly resting on your ass. He moved his hand to grope your other breast and bucked his hips forward with a deep grunt, the hard bulge of his cock rubbing against your ass. You bit back a whimper as your pussy clenched around nothing, arousal starting to pool in your panties.

His hand traveled down, grabbing what was left of your shirt and tearing it, leaving it hanging open on your shoulders. Your body welcomed the sudden partial nudity. The air was hot and thick and it felt like a cool relief to be free of even the light cotton. He pressed his hand against your stomach, pulling you against him even more, and for a moment he froze.

All the roughness in his touch disappeared as his fingers gently traced the nasty scar on your stomach. You whined, not from desperate arousal but shame. After what happened to you, you should be trying harder to fight this. You shouldn't want this, no matter how deep down it was, or how hard you tried to deny it. You dropped your head against the wall, resting your forehead against one hand as you waited for him to finish his assault.

König growled at your reaction to the scar on your stomach. You had looked up at him with growing lust, as tentative as that was, when he traced the scar on your neck with his knife. But the scar on your stomach, evidence of how close your brush with death had been, had paralyzed you. You were too quiet for him to enjoy this. He wanted to hear you cry and whimper, wanted to feel you rocking your body against his as you had been only a moment ago. Most of all, he didn't didn't want you to fear him.

He steadied you with his left hand, his hand heavy on your bare shoulder, and used his right to rip the rest of the tattered shirt off of you. You gasped and cried, and not in the way he wanted to hear, as you stood facing the wall with both arms crossed over your chest and your eyes squeezed shut. Then he removed the simple field jacket he was wearing and draped it over your shoulders.

You froze again as you were suddenly enveloped in warmth and spun around to face your savior/attacker. He roughly pulled the jacket closed, deft fingers fastening the button that fell just over your belly button. You were still somewhat exposed to him, but the scar on your stomach was now once again hidden underneath a layer of clothing.

Your mind barely registered the glint of his knife before it was pressed to your neck once more. He dug the point of the blade into the scar, not enough to puncture, but enough to draw your attention back up to his face.

His eyes were narrowed, furrowed brows peeking beneath the crudely cut eye holes of his mask. If you could see the rest of his face, he would probably be scowling at you.

As much as you wanted to grip the jacket closed, you kept your arms stiff at your sides. One wrong move could open up the scar on your neck again. 

He leaned down, his face inching closer to yours, his blade biting just a little bit more. "Say it." His voice is half a whisper, half a frustrated growl. 

Your lips part, tongue darting out to lick them, but you remained quiet, afraid to give him the wrong answer to his riddle. 

He growled again and pushed you harder against the wall. "Say it!" He practically screamed, and his knife finally pierced your skin, drawing just the slightest bit of blood. 

You flinched, as fear and pain laced adrenaline rushed through your veins, to your core, your clit throbbing as the knife stung your skin. Unconsciously, you steadied yourself by bracing your hands on his sturdy chest. His eyes flickered down at the movement, at the way you were clutching to him and squeezing your thighs together and he grinned under his mask. Oh you were scared of him alright, and you wanted it.  “Filthy fucking whore.” 

Your gasp, perhaps a protest of his words, if you even understood them, is strangled as you find yourself facing the wall again, his thick jacket protecting your hands and arms from the rough brick. 

His right hand holds his knife against the left side of your neck, still pressed against the old scar as his left is shoved down your pants. You whine and gasp and squirm as he circles your clit with two fingers. He groans behind you and his hips jerk forward, the motion causing the blade to cut your skin some more, a thin trail of blood starting to stain your skin. 

You cry, biting your lip and dropping your head against the wall, at the mixed sensations, the stinging pain blending with the pure pleasure of his fingers slipping up and down, around, your clit.

He groaned as his fingers slipped further down and spread your slick around your pussy. You squeezed your thighs around his hand and he pants in your ear before shoving a knee between your thighs, preventing you from closing them. 

His knee between your legs pushes you up against the wall and your toes barely find purchase on the ground. “You want this, ja?” He says as he starts to rock your hips against his thigh as his hand continues to play with your pussy. 

His fingers, hot and thick, slip into you as his palm rubs your clit. “Ja.” He grunts as he sinks a second finger into you, slowly pumping them.  His fingers pick up their pace and you moan when he inserts another digit. He curls his fingers just right as he pumps them, drawing out whines that you try to quiet. You hide your face in your hands, finding odd comfort in the warm scent that lingers on his coat, and choke back a moan as your hips are rocked against his thigh faster.

He pulls his fingers out, soaked in your juices, and goes back to focusing on your clit. “Of course you want this,” he half chuckles and half pants as finally removes his hand from your pussy, strings of cum sticking to your exposed skin as he nudges your chin with the knife so your head leans back against his chest. 

He held his hand up, spreading his fingers to show you your own arousal. "You wouldn't be this fucking wet if you didn't want this." 

You tried to turn your head away, so you didn't have to look at those lust clouded eyes in soft darkness, but he tuts and shoves two cum covered fingers into your mouth. He hummed as he watched you gag on his fingers, at least he relented enough that you were no longer deepthroating his fingers. “Wouldn’t be fucking my thigh like a desperate whore if you didn’t want this.” 

You froze, as if just realizing that with one of his hands still holding a knife to your throat and the other stuffing your mouth with his fingers, the eager grinding of your hips on his thigh was entirely you. He laughed and rocked his knee up into your aching pussy, “don’t stop now.”

The drag of his knee puts perfect pressure on your clit and you whine around his fingers as your pussy clenches around nothing. “Keep. Moving.” He growled in your ear as he glides the knife down the old scar down your neck to just above your collarbone, a thin line of blood beading against your skin. It stings and your cries are smothered by his fingers and he rocks his knee up again and you slide against his thigh just right that the pain becomes pleasure. 

He moans with you as you start to grind down in his leg again, back and forth and you even do your best to bounce while your feet barely touch the ground. His hips start to move with you, his hard cock on your ass adding fuel to the fire that burns within you. 

He’s grunting now, everytime you bounce against his dick, and he drops his hand from your mouth and starts to grope your tits again, making your shudder as he squeezes, his grip is bruising but your clit still throbs, your pussy still flutters with every touch of his rough hands.

The knife finally drops from your neck and he holds it against your waist then leans down, the mask he is wearing falling over your shoulder and you feel his breath on your bare skin.

“You belong to me now, Engel.” 

You gasp and shiver as he mumbles darkly into your neck, head lolling back so you can look at him, but all you see is the black of his mask. His grip on you tightens, the handle of the knife pushing into your hip painfully, his hand fondling your breasts roughly, his thigh pushing up against your pussy pleasurably. 

His tongue, hot and big, laps at your shoulder in a smothered kiss before he bites down, his sharp teeth catching the edge of the cut on your neck and that’s enough to push you into orgasm. You pussy wildly, almost painfully, clenching as you cum against his leg. 

He hums, strangely gentle, and slowly rocks you back and forth on his leg, letting your orgasm fade until your wanton moans are no more than the occasional whimper. 

You stumble forward into the wall when he drops his knee. Your clit is still throbbing as you pull the jacket closer to you and hide your face in your hands. You’re mostly just trying to catch your breath and calm down, but somewhere in the back of your mind you still feel shame at the way your cum gushes down your thighs, soaking into your pants. 

You barely register the shuffling behind you until you feel his hands on you again. You flinch, expecting him to be rough, but his touch is gentle as he rubs your arms. “You did good.” He mumbles his compliment into your hair. “Let’s go.” 

You can’t exactly say no to him, as he easily swoops you up off of your feet and carries you through the rickety gate to the bar parking lot. You absently note how easy it was for him to push the gate open, but do not let your thoughts linger on it once he unlocks a truck and sets you down in the passenger seat. 

He’s kind enough to adjust the jacket to cover your chest entirely before he buckles you up. His hips brush against your leg and you break out of the dazed reverie when you feel how hard his cock still is. 

 “Where are you taking me?” 

The man, your…savior (you feel hesitant to label him as your attacker, even after what just happened), slips off the hood before he looks up at you. His hair is disheveled and matted down with sweat and even in the faint street lighting you can see a few scars scattered around his clean shaven face. His eyes, icy cold blue, the only part of him you could see before, shine with something…soft? Unexpected, certainly. 

“Home.” He answers and drops the hood in your lap before shutting the door and walking around to the driver side. 

You hold the mask up in your hands as he starts the engine. The bleached tear stains and empty eye holes stare up at you suggesting danger and pain and death, and safety.

-

When he said home, he apparently meant his home. You felt silly for thinking he knew where you lived. The place he pulls up to is nice. Much nicer than you expected for a man so dangerous, more importantly you supposed, it’s spacious. There was some good distance between his house and the last house you saw and that has your pulse speeding up as he opens the door for you.

He doesn’t even wait for you to move, for you to second guess everything, before unbuckles you and carries you inside. You want to insist that you can walk on your own, but you are sticky with cum and dried blood and honestly, he’s so warm.

When he mumbles something about cleaning up you just nod and let him place you in a shower. You only react when he strips down and steps into the shower with you. 

It could have been a sensual shower, it was certainly big enough and as you catch a glimpse of how big his dick is when it is soft, your clit twitches at the memory of it hard and rutting against your ass. But he is quick to wash himself, and though he spends more time washing your body (or maybe he was just taking his time to feel you up), it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. 

You want to tell him there isn’t really a point in applying that ointment he is gently spreading along the scar on your neck. It’s already healed to an ugly scar.  But he is so gentle as he bandages the fresh cut and rubs you dry with a soft towel as you sit on his very large bed. 

“What’s your name?” 

Would it have been better or worse to ask for his name before he fingered you in some dirty back alley?

“König.” He doesn’t give more than that.

“König.” You repeat and he looks up at you from where he is kneeling on the floor in front of you. “Thank you. For killing that man.” 

He hummed as he continued to pat your thighs dry with the oversized towel that was wrapped around you. “You didn’t tell the police about me.” 

It’s not a question. Somehow he knows that you didn’t tell the police, so you just shrug. “I told them I don’t remember what happened after I got stabbed.” 

His hands stop moving and rest on the outsides of your thighs, playing with the hem of the towel. “But you do remember?” 

You nod. “Everything.” 

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence between you, his fingers start tapping against your thighs and he shifts his weight. The towel that he has wrapped around his waist threatens to fall loose and he uses the excuse to secure it as an opportunity to break his gaze with you.

“What you said back there, that I belong to you now. What does that mean?” 

This time he meets your eyes, “what it sounds like.” 

“...Does that mean you’ll protect me?” 

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” And he drops a small kiss to your knee, letting his lips linger on your skin.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek to push him away from your legs. “Can you be gentle?” König moves his face just enough to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Yes.” 

Whether he takes your question as a suggestion, or he simply decided that it was time to move onto other activities, he leans down again and places another kiss to your knee, gently spreading your legs and moving his mouth to your inner thigh. As he moves his mouth to splay a kiss on your other thigh, one of his large hands comes up to remove the towel on you body, brushing against your covered breast for just a moment before he tugs on the towel. 

You don’t let the towel drop completely, holding it tight to your chest, and he pauses his sweet kisses.

“Look at me,” he demands, stretching up and leaning against the bed, one knee between yours as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. His grip is firm but not painful, not even close to how tightly he had grabbed you earlier in the night. 

Your eyes jump from one scar to another before settling on his steely eyes. “Good. Now,” he leans in closer, lips hovering over yours, “trust me.” 

His kiss starts off gentle before his tongue finds that spot on your bottom lip where it was once split, he nibbles and sighs as if he can still taste the blood that was once there. Your lips part when you feel his teeth and his tongue glides against yours. It’s slow and gentle and has you melting into his touch, dropping the towel that hides your scars from him. He wastes no time in tossing it off the bed, his lips never leaving yours even as he slides his hands over your waist to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

You let out a little squeak at the sudden movement and he grins as he pulls away from the kiss, breathing against your lips. “Remember. Trust me.” 

You can only nod as he moves his mouth down your neck, placing soft quick kisses over the fresh bandages before he moves to the other side of your neck. His kisses on the juncture of your neck become sloppy, his tongue lapping at your skin like it is covered in something sweet. He bites down hard, teeth sinking into your soft flesh, turning your quiet little pants into a gasping moan. 

“You belong to me now.” He repeats his claim between gentle soothing kisses on the fresh bite mark he just made. 

You nod, accepting your fate, as you grip onto his shoulders. He hums and trails his mouth down your body, gently kissing the bruises that started to bloom on your breasts from how hard he groped you before. Your soft whimper, born of pleasure and pain, makes his cock twitch underneath his towel and he shucks that off too. 

He lays you down on your back and swirls his tongue around a nipple, enjoying the way you arch into his mouth. “Look at me.” He reminds you when he sees that you have closed your eyes.

When you look at him again he grins and playfully bites your nipple, laughing at the little squeak you let out before. Your giggles turn into a soft sigh as he moves to your other breast. His touch has you sinking into a cloud of lust. You want to throw your head back, close your eyes, and surrender to him, but you remember his order and keep your eyes on him.

You go tense when he trails his kisses down to your stomach. His eyes shoot up at you, making sure you are still watching him, as he traces the horrid scar with his lips and tongue. Eventually, with the help of his big warm hands running soothing touches up and down your body, you stop squirming uncomfortably. You’re still squirming, but for entirely different reasons. König notices and with a grin he pushes himself up, pulling you up with him and placing one of your hands on his stomach.

Admittedly, your touch and mind is drawn to the hard muscle, padded with a healthy layer of fat, flexes under your hand. You want to touch the rest of him, explore the rest of him. It is only after a second that you realize what you are touching. A scar. Raised skin in a jagged pattern, like someone attempted to twist the knife that stabbed him. You gently trace the scar as if you are afraid to agitate it. 

He senses your hesitation and laughs as he presses your palm against it even harder. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Engel.” Then he reaches out to touch the scar on your stomach, smaller and cleaner, but fresher and still tender if pressed too hard. 

You look down at his hand on your scar and yours on his. They’re almost in the same place. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to your lips and rests his forehead against yours. “I should be dead. You should be dead.” This was simply proof that were meant for him, he was certain of that. 

Who needs matching tattoos when you have matching scars?

“König,” you breathe out, though you are not sure what you want to say to him. Instead, when his eyes meet yours, you kiss him. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and pull yourself as close to him as possible. 

He moans into the kiss and, tender moment over, pushes you fully against the bed again. He slides down your body again, stopping only momentarily to place a soft kiss on your stomach before he dives between your thighs. 

You don’t even have time to act shy before he’s spreading your legs and swiping his tongue through the folds of your pussy. He’s quick to circle his tongue around your clit, drawing out a soft moan between panting breaths, as your hips move up to meet his mouth. He groans, the subtle vibrations adding extra stimulation, and practically nuzzles your pussy, nose bumping against your clit as he sinks his tongue into your quivering hole. No matter what you do, hands pulling at his hair tightly or thighs clenching around his head, it only earns more moans from him. He laps at your pussy, your juices mixing with his spit and drags his tongue back up to your throbbing clit. 

He locks one hand onto your hip but the other travels up your body to your breasts. True to his word, he is gentle with them this time. No bruising grip sending you teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain. Instead he rolls your nipple, pinching just soft enough that it hardens under his touch. He moves his hand and repeats the action with your other breast, reveling in every little whine and gasp he pulls out of you. All the while he continues to eat your pussy like it’s his last meal.

He has you so needy and aching that it’s euphoric when he slips two fingers into you at once. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, reluctant to let him go but the slide of him pumping into you again makes you gush. One of your hands claws at his hair, gripping his locks to keep you grounded, but the other holds onto his hand that had been playing with your tits. Unable to properly play with your tits now, he laces his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he pulls and orgasm out of you,

Unlike the first time he made you cum, you don’t try to hold back your moans, you don’t hide your face from him, though at some point as he ate you out, you had thrown your head back and closed your eyes from how good it felt. He’d just have to forgive you for that.

König rests his check against one of your thighs as he watches you come down from your orgasm. 

It’s not until he gently squeezes his hand that is still holding yours that you look down at him. Somehow the sight of him between your thighs, face glistening with your cum, makes you blush even harder than you already were. 

“Ready for more, Engel?” 

You blink at him. “More?”

He chuckles and pushes himself up, first dropping a heated kiss onto your lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. As much as he could spend all night kissing you, right now he had another pressing need to take care of. He sat up on his knees, pushing your thighs further apart to accommodate him, and stroked his painfully hard cock.

Oh!

Your eyes are drawn to him and widen. You knew he was big. You’d seen him soft and felt it against your ass, but seeing it standing at full erection was another thing entirely. It’s easily the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, not even your favorite porn stars can hope to compete. 

You sit up and reach out to touch him, replacing his hand with your own and you swallow thickly. You wrap your fingers around the shaft, your pussy clenching when you see that your fingers don’t even meet. Still, you give gentle strokes, eyes glazing over at how much of his veiny cock you can still see around your fist. He’s already leaking copious amounts of precum, that you collect on your fingers to slick up your next stroke. You lean down and circle your tongue around the head, a shiver running down your spine when he moans wantonly as you wrap your lips around the head. 

You moan as you stretch your mouth around his cock and imagine what it would feel like stretching your pussy out. You let out a little gasp for air when you come back up, going from sucking to licking his cock, just so you can reach the base of it. König moans again and buries a hand in your hair. For a moment you think he’s going to force your mouth onto him again, but instead he pulls you up for another passionate kiss. 

“Another time. I need to fuck you.” He pants against your mouth when he pulls away.

You whimper and nod and throw yourself back onto the pillows, eager to accept the challenge of his massive cock. You drop one hand to your clit, rocking your fingers against the sensitive button. 

König produces a bottle of lube from the nightside and slicks himself up. In the future, he can take the time to make you cum enough times to take his dick naturally. But he is eager to feel you now. Besides, you look just as eager as he feels, as you watch him stroke himself. 

He nudges your hand away from your clit and replaces it with his own, rubbing lube along your pussy and drawing excited pants from you. He dips a finger in you, feeling your pussy clench around his finger and grins. “Engel?” 

You nod, “please, König!”

He slid the head of his cock through your folds, your pussy throbbing as the slick head rubbed against your clit. You whined at not being filled but the way his heavy cock bounced on your clit already had you desperately begging. 

He managed a strained chuckle, holding himself back from immediately fucking you was one of the hardest things he’s ever done, and pushed the tip of his dick against your entrance. He used his right hand to hold your hips, and used his left hand to rub languid circles around your clit. 

You choked back a garbled moan as you felt him begin to stretch you out.  Your chest heaved as you rocked your hips up, encouraging him to keep going. You were whimpering, writhing against the bed grasping at his shoulders as he sunk deeper into you. He was so fucking big and barely got the tip of his dick inside of you before you pussy began to frantically pulsate around him. He groaned and forced himself to stay still, for both of your sakes. You looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears and drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, and he almost lost it. He promised he’d be gentle though, at least this time.

He grabbed the bottle of lube again and squeezed some more out on his dick before thrusting forward again. Your pussy clenched around him, squeezing him desperately, as he slowly filled you. Though the size of his cock stretched you beyond anything you’d ever felt before, though it teetered to just the wrong side of pain, you couldn’t get enough of it. Especially with the way his thumb kept playing with your clit. You cried his name and tried to grind your hips up. 

He slowly dragged his cock out, moaning at the sight of your pussy clinging to him, and started another agonizingly slow push. 

“König,” you started with a breathy whine, “faster. Please.” 

He dropped down to one elbow and nuzzled his nose against the side of your face, missing your lips as he tried to kiss you and simply licking at your jaw. He muttered your name hotly in your ear, your pussy quivering at the sound of his strained voice. 

He snapped his hips forward, burying his cock deep in you and started frantic, rapid, strokes. You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, he was so big and heavy and hard that your world was reduced to the pleasure he brought with every stroke of his amazing cock. 

He promised to be gentle, he knew he shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t help but clamp his teeth down on your uninjured shoulder, muffling his own obscene moans as your pussy spasmed around him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his thrust became erratic, chasing an orgasm, as blood filled his mouth. Your blood was still so sweet, divine, enough to send him over the edge. His hips stilled as he cock twitched inside of you, spilling inside of you. 

You moaned, or screamed, when he bit you, leaving a second mark on you, and the string of his bite brought with it white hot pleasure. Hot cum filled you, your pussy convulsing rapidly, milking him and refusing to let go. 

He pulled out with a long groan, the two of you overstimulated and your pussy was still clenching around him, and collapsed to the side of you. He draped an arm around you and held you close to him, muttering something about angels in German that you didn’t have the faculties to translate at that moment. 

He was the first to recover, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning over to lick and kiss the fresh bite mark on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You gave a breathless laugh and lazily pulled his face up to kiss you. “Don’t worry, I liked it.” As if the mind blowing orgasm that followed the bite wasn’t a big enough hint.

“Now, can you let go of me?” 

“No.” 

Your laugh was sharper this time, and it brought a grin to his face. “Let go, I have to pee!” 

He sighed dramatically and grabbed your hand, bringing to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Come back to me?”

Even as you pulled your hand out of his, you could feel the smile that graced his lips upon hearing you giggle. But at least he finally let you go. 

Your post orgasmic high wore off while you were cleaning up and your mind, having been clouded by lust since he grabbed you at the bar, was able to think straight.

You walked back to the room, feeling shy at your lack of clothing, and saw that he had changed the top blanket on the bed. The other soaked in cum, apparently. 

He looked up and smiled, bright and energetic despite how tired he was. “Engel, you came back!” He joked as he rushed over and pulled you into a hug. 

You kept still, but with his arms wrapped around you, you could do little else. He picked you up, much as he had done back at the bar, and set you down in the bed before he curled up next to you and pulled the covers over both of you.

“König?” 

He hummed as he nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating combined scents.

“...I never told you my name.” 

[Death’s Promise]

“...I never told you my name.” 

König doesn’t answer you, only tightens his hold around you. It’s only when you try to shift, to put just enough distance between you that you can turn around and face him, that he speaks. His voice deceptively calm, if the way his arms tighten around you again is anything to go by. “I already told you, you belong to me now.”

You frown. That was no answer to how he knew your name. Or, now that you thought about it, how he knew that you didn’t tell the police about him. 

“It. It wasn’t a coincidence that you were at that bar tonight, was it?” You try not to stutter.

He doesn’t answer, instead starts to press his lips into the hickey on your shoulder. A reminder of his claim. 

“How long have you been following me?” 

His lips continue to move from your shoulder to your neck, stopping to nibble at your pulse point. You can feel the grin on his lips when your pulse speeds up.

Whatever he is making you feel, you repeat the question. “How long have you been following me?” 

“Go to sleep, Engel.” 

“At least tell me why.” 

“To make sure no one else touches you.” 

Well, it’s not like you wanted anyone to touch you anyway. And his touch isn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, really.

You should stop this. Get away from him. You knew he was dangerous, you saw it first hand, and who knows how long he’d been following you. Maybe since that very night you were attacked.

And yet, “...No one?” “No one.” 

That actually sounded kind of nice…

-

Work sucked. Mostly because of one person and the fact that you felt like you could do nothing about it. All you could do was race out at the end of the day and get home as quickly as possible. 

Home…It took all of a week for König to move you from your flat (he said it wasn’t safe at your old place and you weren’t going to question what he meant by that) into his house. Was it a rushed relationship? Sure. Was it a questionable, leaning towards dangerous, decision on your part? Absolutely. Did you regret it? Not at all. 

You let your frustrations out on a bunch of vegetables, your knife chopping through them and onto the cutting board with increasing force. You didn’t even realize how hard you were chopping until a large hand stopped your own before it hit the board again. You froze, König’s other arm wrapping around your waist as he leaned down to rest his chin on your head. 

“Careful, Engel. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” 

“Oh! König! I didn’t even hear you come in!” You crane your neck back so he could place a soft kiss to your lips. He does so with a pleased hum. 

His face is bare, a sight you quickly came to love. He leaves the simple mask he usually wears hanging in the entranceway. (His sniper hood he only dons when he’s deployed or when he’s “hunting”). 

“How could you with all that noise you were making? What did that poor carrot do to you?” 

You let out a sheepish chuckle, “sorry. Just thinking about work stuff.” 

You picked up one of the carrot rounds and held it up by your shoulder, where he leaned down and nibbled it out of your hand. 

“What about work?” 

You resumed your chopping, much less forceful. “Ugh. Nothing really. Just this guy keeps bothering me.” 

He tensed behind you, his grip on your waist getting tighter, not uncomfortably so, just more protective, as he growled out his question. “Has he touched you?” 

“No! Well, not like that…” The shoulder squeezes and lingering pats on the back were unwelcome, but, as your supervisor said, meant nothing more than that the guy was being friendly. “It’s really annoying to have to pick up his slack, especially after all of his little inappropriate comments.” 

König nodded as he listened to your rant, but all he heard was some man had dared to put his hands on you, even if you didn’t think it was sexual, and said something inappropriate to you. “Want me to kill him?” 

“Yes!” You giggle at the joke.

“Ok.” 

You freeze and turn around to face him. “Wait. I’m kidding.”

He smiles and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ok.” 

“No,” you press your lips in a straight line. “I’m serious. You can’t kill him.” 

The way he tilts his head is far too cute for someone as large as he is casually discussing murder. “Why not?”

It had been a while since he killed anyone. Why shouldn’t he kill someone you hated? Two birds, one stone.

“Because he works with me!”

“Not for long.” 

You laugh and gently push him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Once in the living room, you make him sit down on the couch, having to resort to pulling him down for a kiss to get him to settle. His hands naturally fall to your hips as you straddle him, clutching at the fabric of the simple cotton dress you had changed into after work. 

“Now, you listen to me,” you start with a firm poke to his chest, only to stop when you realize you were still holding the kitchen knife in your hand. Oops. Knowing him, though, he probably liked you threatening him with it. You twisted around in his lap just enough to drop the knife onto the coffee table in front of the couch and return your attention to him. “As much as I want you to kill the bastard, you can’t.” 

He furrows his brows, and is practically pouting as he asks his question again. “Why?”

“Because, everyone knows I have a problem with him.”

“And he still works there?” 

You had to bite back a laugh. He had a point. You were not the first to draw unwanted attention from the guy. Why complaints from more than one woman didn’t lead to any disciplinary action was questionable. Still, you ignore his question and continue.

“When the cops find him dead, or missing, I’ll be a suspect.” 

König chuckles as he moves his hands gently up and down your sides, moving your dress higher up your thighs with each pass of his hands. “You? Little one?” 

This time you do laugh a little. “Let me finish!”

Schooling his face, he nods. “Ok, tell me how you will be suspected of murder.”

“Not me!” You answer with a faux exasperated sigh. “They’ll look at me and realize I have a hard time even hurting a fly. But one look at you,” you start to drag your hands on either of his forearms, fingers dancing along his veiny muscles. “My giant, strong, military trained boyfriend and they’ll get suspicious.”

His smile has dropped, either from your prediction, or the way your hands continue to tantalize him and move up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

“Even if they don’t find proof, they’ll at least surveille you for a bit. Do you really want the police looking into you?” 

For a moment he is quiet, no joking, even his grip on your hips is still. He can’t pretend that what you said is entirely unsound. No matter how careful he was to leave no trace behind, the personal connection to you would always be suspect. 

“So,” you lean in close to him, your lips hovering close to his. “You’re not going to kill him, right?” 

He averts his eyes and doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to lie to you, and your reason, while sound, isn’t enough to deter him. 

“König,” your voice is stern and you grab his chin and force him to look at you. 

“This man has touched you.” 

You want to roll your eyes. You want to pretend like he’s playfully overreacting. Certainly a couple of lingering pats does not warrant murder, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about König, at least when it comes to you, is that he’s intense. He is one hundred percent planning on killing your coworker just because he touched your shoulder. 

Your hands slide down his shoulders to rest on his chest, just above his heart where you clench at his shirt. “Promise me you won’t kill him.” When he still doesn’t answer you frown and press your forehead onto his. “I need you, König. I need you to stay with me.” Your voice wavers a little as you lock your eyes with his. “I need you to protect me.” 

“Fine, my love.” He finally sighs and captures your lips in a gentle kiss; he can’t stand to see you looking so sad because of something he might do. “I will not kill him.” 

“Good.” You nod and smile at him, and your smile is so brilliant that it is enough to sate his bloodlust. 

You lean forward again to kiss him, with all intentions to pull away and go back to making dinner. But his grip on your hips tightens and he holds you close and deepens the kiss. 

He smiles against your lips as you giggle when he doesn’t let you pull away. 

“I am curious.” You start, voice dropping like it wasn’t just the two of you in the house.

He hums against your lips then starts to drag his kisses down your jaw to your neck, grinning as your next words come out a little breathless. 

“If you were going to kill him, how would you do it?”

He actually stops and looks up at you, wondering if this was some kind of test.

You smile and give him a small peck on the lips. “Just hypothetically speaking, of course.” 

König licks his lips nervously, only relaxing when you take his right hand in both of yours and start to idly play with his fingers. 

“He touched you,” he starts and pauses again. You nod and give a little hum to encourage him to keep going. 

“I’d start with his hands.” 

You shift your eyes up to meet his before looking back down at his hand. You nod and turn his hand over, palm down in one of your hands as your free hand gently traces the veins on his hand. His fingers twitch underneath your touch and you sweetly smile at him, “keep going.” 

“I’d crush one of his hands beneath my boot.” 

You place his hand on the top of your thigh as you nod once again. You let out a quiet excited breath as he squeezes your thigh, his large hands hot against your skin. 

“Just one hand?” You ask coquettishly as you drag his hand down to the inside of your thigh.

He hums again, eyes locked between your thighs, at his hand slipping underneath your skirt. 

“I’d take my time with his other hand.” His knuckles brush your clothed mound, putting the lightest pressure on your clit. “Break his fingers one at a time.” 

You bite your lip and lock your eyes with his as you roll your hips forward, turning his touch on your clit from feather light to firm. 

His eyes darken, blood thrumming with excitement, and he can hardly tell what has him excited more, watching you squirm against his hand or sharing the kind of thoughts he long ago learned to keep to himself. The fact that he was sharing these thoughts with you, feeling your arousal dampen your panties, makes his heart beat wildly. 

He shifts his hand, turning it so that his thumb can start to rub small circles around your clit while his fingers dip into the edge of your panties. The back of his fingers slide against pussy, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You jolt and let out a small gasp at his touch, grasping at his shoulders to keep you upright so you can keep your eyes on him. 

He continued to tease your pussy, reveling in every little reaction from you, until you were a wet whimpering mess on his lap. “Then I’d smash his face in, for thinking he was worthy of even looking at you,” you moaned as he slipped a finger into you, “of breathing the same air as you.” He slowly started to slide his finger out, a smirk on his face as you rocked your hips forward.

“Maybe knock his teeth out for daring to talk to you.” He slid in a second finger, breathing a little faster as you moaned and fell forward further into him. You kissed him, tongue lapping at his lips before finding his own, as he pumped his fingers faster.

His free hand moved roughly from your hip to your breast, squeezing hard enough to draw desperate whimpers from you. He groaned and shifted to sit more comfortably, mouth dropping from your lips to your jaw, and pulled the top of your dress down. His lips capture your breast, tongue circling around the nipple, while his hand continues to knead and squeeze your other breast.  

Your head falls back and you gasp when he inserts a third finger, using his palm to rub your clit. He takes the opportunity to leave a surprisingly gentle kiss on the edge of the scar that peaks above your neckline. You shiver, despite how hot your body feels, as he pulls you closer to the edge. Your hips rock against his hand, your breath coming out in a combination of desperate pants and whines, every stroke of his fingers winding you up.

“But I will kill him with my hands around his neck, so I can watch him regret ever looking at you, as the life fades from his eyes.” 

Your whole body shakes as you cry out and fall forward, holding onto him with all your strength, as your pussy convulses wildly around his fingers, coating his hand in cum. 

König stilled as he watched you come down from your orgasm, panting and making cute little whimpers as he withdrew his hand. You were...glowing. It could have been the single ray of light coming in from a crack in the curtains illuminating your half naked body. Or the light sheen of sweat coating your skin that he was tempted to lick off you. But, he knew it was something else.

You had just come on his fingers as he described how he wanted to kill someone. You were truly an angel. A fucked up little angel sent to him by the god of death. If the military wasn't going to reward his skills, at least the universe had.

You shivered again and giggled into his shoulder before looking up at him with a smile. You hummed, squeezing your thighs together momentarily before sitting up and fixing your dress. You grabbed the discarded kitchen knife from the coffee table and planted a sweet and chaste kiss on his lips, as if he hadn't just finger fucked you to orgasm. "I need to finish making dinner."

He knew the moment he laid eyes on you, covered in blood and all, that he wanted you. He had no idea that he didn’t just want you, he needed you. 

He needed you. And he was just sitting there with a painfully hard boner while you walked back to the kitchen, legs shaky and making you lean on the walls and counter. He let you have a moment to calm down before bending you over the counter, ripping your soaked panties off of you and wildly fucking you. 

-

Not deployed and not “busy”, König's world revolved around you (and if his last deployment was anything to go by, you were his center regardless). He insisted on driving you to and from work. It was all great until you mentioned you would be working late one night. 

He went stiff and barely managed to get through his question without shaking in anger. “Will Christopher be working late with you?” 

You sighed, already dreading the late night dealing with your annoying coworker. “Yea, he's on my team.” Then you grinned, “maybe he'll see you when you drop me off and think twice before approaching me!”

König chuckled and leaned down to kiss you before slipping his face mask on. Honestly, he hoped that wasn't the case. He wanted an excuse to kill the man. 

That morning, of course, Christopher was late and didn't witness your incredibly large boyfriend help you down from his truck (not that you needed it, but he was ever the gentleman) as he dropped you off. 

You did your best to avoid Chris, but as the night dragged on, he became more persistent. 

“Someone’s a pretty little liar.” 

You sighed. You were already packing up, getting ready to leave, and he had to come and bother you one more time. “What?”

“I talked to Deb, and she said you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

Deb, the office gossip. 

“She doesn’t know everything about me.” 

Your phone buzzed just as you picked it up, a part of you was worried it was your supervisor, but one glance at the screen and you smiled. “And that’s him. He’s here to pick me up.” 

“I was just heading out, I’ll walk with you.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder and squeezed as he smirked at you. 

You stepped out of his hold and hurried to the door, confused when you didn’t see König’s truck waiting out front. Oh no. 

Your phone buzzed again, König telling you that he was in the far parking lot. 

“Well, where is he?” 

“Parked back there.” You gestured with your hand, from that distance even the truck looked small.

“What he can’t come get you? Maybe I should walk with you, talk to the guy.” 

You rolled your eyes and sidestepped his hand again. Whatever happened next was Chris’ own damn fault for being so fucking predictable.

Disabling the security cameras in the parking lot was easy. König sat in his truck, the temporarily distressed engine running idle, knee bouncing and fingers tapping the steering wheel excitedly. 

You hadn’t told him much about this Christopher, but from what you did, it was pretty much a given that he’d follow you through the parking lot. And lo and behold, König saw you and a man walking towards the truck. Every so often you’d take a side step and whenever König saw the man make the same step, closing the distance between the two of you again, his pulse just beat faster. 

Finally when you’re close enough, he jumped out of the truck and rushed to the passenger side. The sight of him even had you tense for a moment. Sure he was big, and the black tee shirt he wore did nothing to hide how muscular he was. But it was the sniper hood covering his face that made you pause. 

“What the fuck?” The man next to you muttered under his breath as you walked up to König.

König was fast to reach out and pull you to his side. 

At least he leans down to let you peck his cheek, though you got his chin instead, as a greeting. 

“Get in the truck. And don’t look.” 

You frown and pinch the edge of his mask. You’d only ever seen him wear it once. “I told you-”

“I know.” 

To Christopher’s credit, he was smart enough to try to get away as quickly and quietly as possible. König wasn’t having it though, and all it took was one giant step from him and he clapped his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

“Not so fast, hm?”

A shiver ran up your spine as you stood next to the truck. That cadence in König’s voice…

Chris tried to wiggle out of König’s hold, but his struggle only made König grip down harder. 

“You touched her-”

“N-no! I didn’t! She lied!” 

König’s eyes narrowed and Chris tried to stutter out another denial but was thrown into the asphalt face first, with a pathetic cry.

As Chris was trying to push himself up, König grabbed him by the back of his shirt and turned him around, pinning him on the ground.

Chris, a man who was in considerably good shape, still thought he had a chance to get away. He struggled, attempting to punch König in the ribs to get him to let go, but König chuckled. He then punched Chris directly in the face, a delightful burst of happy adrenaline running through his veins as he felt and heard the other man’s nose break underneath his hand.

Chris screamed, blood filling his mouth,  and rolled away from König, well, as much as he was allowed to. König stood back up, though remained hovering over Chris, who was doubled over in pain. After a few minutes, in which he shakily turned around and looked up, he managed to gasp out another plea. “Ok! Ok! I’ll leave her alone!”

“Good!” König beamed, his head tilted just slightly as he looked down at the other man. “But that is not enough.”

“W-what!” 

König grabbed a fistful of Chris’ hair and easily hauled him up and dragged him to the front of the still running truck. 

“I promised her no one would ever touch her again. What kind of man would I be if I let you get away with touching her?” Through Chris’ screams, he shoved Chris’ face onto the hood of his truck, the engine still running hot and burning the man’s face. 

As satisfying as it was to watch Chris get his ass handed to him so easily, things had already escalated too far. “König! That’s enough!” You shouted over the engine, over Chris’ fading cries and over König’s jovial laughter.

König froze and looked up at you, standing some feet away from the two men, and let Chris slump to the ground. “I told you to get in the truck.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you walked over to him, being careful to step around your barely conscious coworker. You looked up at him, his eyes were still wild, and his chest was starting to heave with how excited he’d become. If he had excess energy, you knew just what he could do with it instead.

You slid a hand up his chest to grip his collar, the fabric of his mask pooling around your wrist. He let you pull him down to your level and with your free hand, you lifted the mask just enough to kiss him. 

He moaned into the kiss, turning it heated rather quickly, his big hands on your ass and hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

It was only a pained weak cough from Christopher that stopped you. You pulled away from the kiss, his hood falling back over his face, and grinned at him. 

“I think you should get in the truck now.” You say with a seductive smile and a gleam in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

He nodded and instead of setting you on the ground, walked around to the passenger side of the truck, kicking Chris one last time for good measure, before gently setting you inside the truck and rushing over to the other side.

You’re careful not to hit the gear shift when he slides into the driver side and you slide up to him, lifting his mask to the bridge of his nose so you can kiss him again. His hands grab at you, pulling you as close as he could in the cramped space. One of your hands clutches at his shirt, landing on his firm chest and the other rests on his thigh. 

He breaks the kiss just for a moment, his breath starting to come out in a pant, and reaches up to grasp at the edge of his mask, but your hand quickly grabs his wrist and stops him, “leave it on.”

“O-oh?” He stutters as you palm his growing erection through his pants. 

“I like it,” you say as you lean forward and drop a kiss to his shoulder, then another below that, following the hem of the mask until you reach just below his collarbone. Your hand that sits on his chest has moved to his pectoral, where you give his nipple a little pinch, sending a shiver down his spine right to his dick. 

“Hah,” he breathes out half a laugh as you start to unbuckle his belt, “you like it?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Your hand drops from his chest so you can unbutton his pants.

He swallows hard when you take his heavy cock out and with a firm grip you wrap a soft hand around it, as much as you could, anyway. “It’s. It’s supposed to be scary.” 

“Oh, it is.” You look up at him, hand lazily stroking upwards, “that’s what I like about it.” 

He lets out a quiet groan when your thumb swipes across the underside of the head of his fat cock. Whatever other protest about his sniper hood he had is forgotten when you slide down the bench so you can put your mouth on him.  

He’s hard in your hands before you even lean down and his thick veiny cock throbs as you slowly part your lips. His left hand has an intense grip on the door, but his right hand flies into your hair, though he shakes a little as he tries to keep it gentle, so he can have a clear view of you. 

You start with small, feather light, licks to his swollen cockhead, one, two, and he’s already let out a soft whine and starts to nudge his hips forward, his cock following your tongue as it retreats back in your mouth. You smile and hum, giving in and swirling your tongue around the tip before pinching your lips just over the head of his cock, adding light suction as you do so.

“Please,” he whines, fingers starting to tighten around your hair. “Please, don’t tease me.” The way he has slipped back into his native language, his voice pitched higher as he thrusts his hips upwards when you sink your mouth further down his cock, makes your clit twitch and you have to squeeze your thighs together to help alleviate your neediness.

You moan around his cock, tongue continuing to circle the head of his dick, flickering at sensitive spots, as you take him into your mouth as far as you can. You don’t deep throat him, not yet, so your hand makes up for it by adding firm strokes in conjunction with the bob of your mouth. The cabin is filled not only with moans but the sound of wet suction, especially when you pop his cock fully out of your mouth and give greedy sloppy licks down his entire shaft. 

König loses a bit of control and when your mouth envelops him again, sinking down as far as previously, his hand pushes the back of your head down even more. You had been expecting it, the tightness in his thighs, the way he whined even more and babbled incoherently, and even though you braced yourself, you ended up choking and sputtering around his cock. It only adds more spit, more slip to the already sloppy blow job.

You sit up a bit and take a breath, hand still stroking up and down, before you dive back down. This time you look up at him as you sink your mouth on his cock, your eyes locking with his, even with his eyes so dilated they’re so blue in contrast to the black material of his mask that nearly blends into the darkness of the night. His eyes are wide, watering even, and when he sees you look up at him, mouth stretched around his big cock, his own eyes roll back as his hips start to buck harder, faster. He cries out his impending orgasm, first in German though, for your sake, he remembers to repeat it in English as well. 

Not that it matters, you offer him an encouraging, “mm-hmm” around his cock, letting him know that you wanted him to cum in your mouth and it drives him over the edge with a loud obscene moan, shooting rope and rope and rope of cum into your mouth.

You swallow what you can, the rest sliding down the side of your face as you sit up for air. His eyes are still closed as he pants for breath himself. Since he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention, you get a mischievous idea and lean in close to him, and use the edge of his mask to wipe your face clean.

He chuckles but doesn’t stop you, only taking your hand in his when he feels that you are done. 

Most of him is limp against his seat, except for the grip he has on your hand, his knuckles resting on your thigh. 

“Hey,” you reach over and gently tug at his hood, to which he leans down just enough for it to slip off. “You ok?” 

He gives you a lazy grin, face flush and hair starting to mat down. He doesn’t quite answer you though, instead pulls your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss across your knuckles.  

You smile and, blushing strongly at the innocent gesture despite the fact that you’d just swallowed a load of his cum, take your hand back so you could buckle up. “Let’s go home.” 

The ride home is somewhat odd. He hasn’t said a word since you had his cock in your mouth and that silence is a little worrying. It’s not until you’re back home that you finally break the silence.

“König? What’s wrong?” You stop him before he can retreat into the bedroom.

“Nothing, Engel.” 

“Then why are you so quiet?”

It’s almost comical to watch a man so big try to shrink away from your gaze. He’s squeezing one fist over and over, trying very hard not to twitch under your gaze.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth, as you put two and two together. “Wait! Did you not like- Did I…Did I give you a bad blow job?”

König’s head snaps up. “What! No!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“My love-” “Do you hate all my blow jobs?!”

He shakes his head vehemently and shouts your name, but you still talk over him. 

“Is it because I choke? I can’t help it! Your cock is just so big!” 

“No! My Engel,” he finally stops you with his hands on your shoulders, “I love watching you choke on my cock!”

You take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down and pout up at him. “Then what is it?”

He sighed and rubbed your shoulders for a moment before taking your hands in his. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

There had been a look in your eyes that night that he wrote off as you being so close to dying. But he saw it again tonight…

“Oh.” Your pout morphs into something much more stoic. “When that man…” You trail off, you both know what happened that night.

“Yea.” 

“What about it?” 

He glances away from you and chews on his lip before changing the subject. “Tell me, my love. Did you enjoy watching me kill that man?” 

“Yea.” You tilt your head, “why wouldn’t I? He got what he deserved.” 

He nodded. “Did you enjoy watching me almost kill your coworker?” 

This time it’s you that blushes and looks away. “Yea. I. I suppose being annoying doesn’t quite deserve that much violence, but…” what can you say? It was hot watching him so easily break the other man (oh and defending your honor too!). 

“And,” he paused, licking his lips, “did it turn you on?” 

Your face burns even more, “well,” you chuckle sheepishly, “that is why I blew you.” 

He frowned and dropped your hands, though remained somewhat hunched so he could properly look you in the eyes. “I kill people.” 

You squint at him, “yea…?” This wasn’t news to you…Why was he saying this? 

“Not just the man who tried to rape you. Not just in my capacity as a soldier.” 

Maybe you could understand where he was coming from. He never explicitly told you of his activities. You simply knew based on your first meeting and the way he spoke so casually about killing. “...Yea, I know…”

“I need you to know that, Engel.” 

You nod, “ok. Got it.” 

“But I would never hurt you.”

“I know. I trust you.” Which was a peculiar thing to say considering how just very recently you didn’t even know his name. 

Upon hearing your answer, König glanced away from you, face dusted pink and chewing on his lip. He was right. You were an angel made just for him.

You frowned, “what’s wrong?”

He was quick to pounce on you, giant hands on either side of your face and threading into your hair as he pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. He swallowed your surprised little yelp, his tongue sliding against your lower lip and teeth nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot on your lip before slipping into your mouth. 

He pulled you close, one hand solidly wrapped around your waist and the other pressed into your back, as you melted into his embrace. He only let go slightly when he moved his kiss to your jaw, down your neck, nipping at the scar below your neck. 

You sighed, resting your hands on his shoulders as he continued to sink lower, pressing gentle kisses over your clothes and dropped to his knees. 

He finally pressed a lingering kiss to the scar on your stomach, hands on your hips, and looked up at you, your name falling lovingly past his lips.

“You are perfect. Marry me.” 

You really didn’t think he was a marriage kind of man. You assumed that when he told you that you belonged to him, that he would protect you from then on, that it equated to marriage in his mind. But with the way he was looking up at you now, looking both very serious and very vulnerable, to him, this was more than that.

“Oh, König,” you reply softly, your hand drifting from his shoulder to cup his face. He leans into your touch and never breaks eye contact with you.

You bend down and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Yes.” 

He laughs happily when he pulls you into another strong kiss. He’s still laughing when he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. 

[Death’s Haven]

Your husband was a killer. Not some vigilante with a twisted sense of justice. No, he simply needed to kill. For most of his life, this need was satiated through his career in the military. However, now that he was in the private sector, he had more time between jobs. Which led to the current reason you were home alone late at night.

He'd been between deployments for four months now. Yelling at recruits and paperwork was nearly driving him insane. When he started disappearing at night, when he spent his free time in secret, you knew what he was up to. You didn't ask him about it. You just made sure he had dinner and a clean home to come back to.

You were already asleep in bed when he came home tonight. When you felt him crawl into bed, hands sliding across your waist so he could hold you to his chest. He was very tactile like that, once he had you, he always had to be touching you in some way.

You let out a quiet sigh and shifted to get comfortable, vaguely aware that he was only wearing his boxers.

"I'm sorry, Engel. I did not mean to wake you."

"What time is it?"

"Three."

You grunted. Much too late (or perhaps, too early). Though you supposed coming home at three am was better than him coming home at five only to wake up at six to go to work.

You yawned and shifted, turning around so you could kiss his cheek. "Welcome home." You sighed, eyes already closing again as you cuddled up to him and started to fall back asleep.

König hummed, his hand gently moving up and down your hip, slipping underneath the tee shirt that you stole from him to use as a nightgown.

His soft touch chased away your sleep as his fingers dragged up and down your lower back. You wiggled your hips, attempting to get away from his touch by pressing your body further into him. "That tickles."

"Sorry," he muttered, lips brushing against your temple. "I missed you."

If your eyes weren't closed you'd roll them. Your big, strong, serial killer of a husband was sweet, cute even, acting like you hadn't seen each other for weeks.

But then you felt his hard on pressing against your thigh. Oh. He missed you like that. Yea. That made sense. Even though he slipped in late at night or early in the morning to see you before you left for work, you hadn't had sex since he started his recon a few days ago.

You nuzzle against his chest and smile, "did you?" You slide a hand down his stomach and fiddle with the waistband of his boxers. "I'd never be able to tell." 

He groaned and pushed you onto your back, knocking your legs apart enough for him to settle between. His kiss is rushed, tongue pushing past your lips eagerly, while he starts to grind his hips into yours. You let out an airy gasp when his kisses trail down your jaw to the scar on your neck. A scar you were once ashamed of, once associated with a moment of indignity. König insisted that your scars weren't ugly or shameful, they were proof that instead of taking you for himself, the god of death had given you to him as a gift. 

“What?” You rolled your eyes when he first told you such. “Is he a king and I'm one of his kids he can just give away?” 

He threaded his fingers into your hair and pulled, forcing you to expose your neck to him. “I am your only King. And you are my Angel.” 

Your leg hikes further up his waist, one of his hands splaying across the back of your thigh as he ruts into you again. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his face back towards you as you attempt to kiss him again, instead he opens his mouth to mumble words against your lips.

“There was a witness.”

And you froze. The only witness he’s ever left before was you. For a moment you’re worried. Was this another damsel in distress that he saved? Was there another broken girl in his truck right now, waiting patiently to become your sister-wife? 

You push a steady hand against his chest that he ignores and continues to suck hickey onto your neck. “What?” 

He hums against your skin, moving his kiss down, where he nips at one of your breasts through the fabric of your chosen nightgown. He mistakes the concern in your voice as concern for him. He returns to your mouth, an eager heavy kiss pressed to your lips until he pushes his tongue into your mouth that you respond to tentatively. 

“I killed him too.” 

His hips grinding into yours, with his hard cock teasing your pussy through layers of thin fabric, draws out a needy whine from you. "O-oh?"

He grunts, breathing quickening as he starts to push your shirt up. "That's why I'm so late, my love.” He was quite eager, it seemed, as one of his hands slipped underneath your back to lift you so he could quickly pull the shirt completely off of you. “There was a lot of blood.” He finished his explanation (not that you asked for one) as he nuzzled his face between your breasts. 

You wanted to giggle, both because his slight stubble on your bare chest tickled and how silly you felt that he basically just motorboated you, but with the way he was already licking and sucking at your tits, your giggle quickly morphed into a moan. And then you finally registered his words. 

A bloodsoaked König, with his sniper hood hiding his face, looked like a monster straight out of a horror movie. The thought of it turned you on so much. “Yea?” Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you lifted your hips to meet his, pressing against his hard dick. 

He chuckled as he sat up on his knees, still between your thighs, and tugged at your panties. You raise your hips enough for him to pull them down and toss to the side.

He leaned over you once again, propping himself up on his left arm, while his right hand found its way to your thigh again. You sighed as he all but had you pinned between his large frame and the bed. There was something frightening about his size, he was almost too big to be human, and yet he also possessed the uncanny ability to make you feel safe, no matter how vulnerable you were.

His fingers dipped between your thighs, his chuckles fading into a low groan when he finds how aroused you are. “You like that, Engel? Want to see me covered in blood, hm?” 

A gasped, “uh-huh!” is all you can offer when his fingers, coated in your slick, rock against your clit. 

König pulls his hand away all too soon, and the frustrated whine you puff out isn’t missed by him. You almost think he is going to tease you, that he is going to revel in the way you’re so desperate for him already, but there is a vulnerable sincerity in his eyes when you look up at him. 

“...Are you proud of me?”

Your lust is momentarily forgotten as you slide a hand to his face, gently cradling his face. His eyes closed as he leaned into your soft and touch. 

It was one thing to know that you accepted his proclivities, another entirely to know that you loved that part of him.

You gently run your thumb over his cheek bone so he could look at you again. You supposed you hadn't shown much enthusiasm for his activities since he nearly killed your coworker. You pull him down for a gentle kiss, whispering your answer against his lips. "Yes."

You even have a surprise for him, but the kiss that followed was much less delicate and much more needy on his part. It’s like he’s trying to mold himself to you, trying to fuse your soul to his. It’s as if he doesn’t want to let you go. And you give into him, forgetting about the little gift. You don’t want him to let go either. 

You’re so pliable under his touch, the way you so easily give your body over to him reminds him of the first night he met you. When you were too weak to stop him from ripping the shreds of your dress off of your body, too weak to stop him from moving your hands to stem the bleeding of a knife wound that should have killed you. The memory of your body, pinned underneath him now, covered in the sweetest blood has him biting down on your shoulder roughly. You gasp and whimper underneath him, only squirming not to get away from him, but to get closer to him. 

He drags his mouth down your body, trailing searing kisses along your skin. As always he pays special attention to the scar that dips below your collarbone, tracing the contours with his tongue as if he hasn't already committed every inch of it to memory. As always as well, he takes his time with your breasts, switching between rough nips into your flesh and gentle swirls of his tongue around the nipple. Every little hitch in your breath, every whine that pushes past your lips, alights his blood on fire.

His hips buck forward, seeking relief in the friction of his hard cock against the soft warm plush of your thighs. You whine, one hand resting on his shoulder and one tangled in his hair, as you feel the hot velvety skin of his cock rubbing the insides of your legs, pre cum smearing on your skin and you're not sure whether to pull him back up so he can stuff your pussy with that massive cock of his, or to push him down so he can lavish his attention elsewhere on your body.

König makes the decision for you as he continues to kiss and nip and lick his way down your body. He attempts to repeat the loving kiss with the scar on your stomach, attempts to trace it with his lips, but you become impatient and push his head, making him chuckle into your skin, which in turn has you also giggling.

He presses a lingering kiss to your pubic bone with a grin plastered on his lips, "so eager for me."

You huff, and make sure to exaggerate the little pout you throw at him. "Don't tease. It's been too long."

This draws another chuckle from him, though he spreads your thighs further apart so he can comfortably fit between them. "Less than a week, my angel."

You prop yourself up on one elbow and reach for his face, forcing him to look at you as you hit him with a trembling lip and the saddest eyes you could muster in the moment. "You promised to take care of me, König."

He stills at your words, muscles tense and eyes so wide that even in the dim light you could see the whites of his eyes. You were right, of course. How could he deny his sweet angel what you desperately wanted, needed? Especially when it was him that you needed. He gently places a hand over yours, never breaking eye contact with you, as he pulls your hand from his face and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, taking your little teasing to heart. “I will.” 

That is all the warning you get before he is diving between your thighs. His breath is hot on your skin as he kisses and licks his way towards your pussy. He doesn't ignore any part of you, his left hand both massaging your inner thigh, kneading at the sensitive flesh and keeping your legs parted wide enough for him.

By the time he draws his tongue through your folds, you're already a quivering mess. His long, deliberate, slow licks have you moaning and gripping his hair. His right arm anchors your hips to the bed, keeping you in place as his tongue circles your clit. You try to muffle the obscene moans that fall from your lips, but König knows you, knows what you like, and drags his tongue down your slit, curls his tongue inside of you to lap at you juices. His own moans fill the air with yours, the subtle vibrations only driving you crazier.

His name is a chant on your lips, your hands gripping his hair even more as you try to fuck his face. He groans and releases the iron grip he has on your hips, right hand snaking up to your chest where he roughly gropes at your tits.

He holds you down for your sake, so he can lick and suck and nip without losing his place between your legs. But as you near your edge, he lets go because there's nothing he loves more than when you shove your pussy into his face. His mouth parted, tongue dragging over every inch of you and pushing into your pussy. His nose bumps and rubs against your clit as he enthusiastically moves his head, his stubble scratching pleasantly against the inside of your thighs.

He could, and probably should, stretch you out a little with his fingers, prepare you for the girth that is his cock, but he’s selfish and wants you to come on his tongue. He switches his pace, frenzied flicks of his tongue on your clit, followed by long firm strokes through your folds until he pushes his tongue into your pussy. He moans again, savoring the ambrosia that he pulls from you with every swipe of his tongue. 

It’s when he starts to rock his hips into the bed, seeking to relieve his aching cock, that it feels like a final wave pushing you to your orgasm. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you pussy clenches wildly around his tongue, aching to be filled and stretched out even more. He continues to slurp at your pussy, his tongue covered in your cum as he gently offers small and gentle licks to your clit, following the movement of your hips without holding you down. 

König is liable to spend too much time between your legs. Liable to ease you down from your orgasm only to pull another one from you. And you’re liable to forget that you were supposed to give him his gift before fucking.

“S-stop! I! I!” You cry and whine and try to push his face away from your oversensitive clit. 

With a grunt, he finally relents and drops a few soft kisses to your thigh before propping himself up on his elbows and running the back of his arm across his face. “What is it, Engel?” 

After a moment to catch your breath, you finally look at him and smile softly at the way he's looking up at you so adoringly. "I have something for you."

A grin breaks out across his face as he kisses your thigh and moves as if he's about to start eating you out again.

"Not that!" You laugh and lightly push his face away from your still sensitive pussy. "Come here," you pat the bed next to you, inviting him to sit down for a moment.

"I got you something," you say as you give him a quick peck to the lips when he sits down beside you.

His hand slides to your waist and you know he's about to pull you on top of him, but you pull away quick enough to turn to the nightstand and flip on the lamp.

There’s some shuffling beside you as you open the drawer. The first thing your hand catches is a bottle of lube, that’s not what you were looking for, but you set it on the table anyways.

One of his hands lands on your thigh and squeezes as he leans with you, his mouth dropping small kisses to your shoulder. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Oh, I guess not.” You say as you put a rectangular box on top of the side table and turn to face him again.

He’s shucked his boxers off, instead of shoving his dick through the opening in front, and has his left hand holding the heft of his hard cock. Your eyes drop down to the wide pink mushroom head and immediately forget that you had been trying to gift him something. 

His right arm wraps around your waist as you kiss him and he pulls you atop one of his thighs. You whimper into his mouth as you grind down on his thigh, your already slick pussy making the glide easier and the friction electrifying. Even as you rock your hips back and forth, one of your hands wraps around his cock, next to his own hand. You both groan at the contact, Him at the way you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting pre cum and spreading it over down as you give him sensual little pumps. You groan as you and your pussy clenches achingly at the reminder of how big his cock is, the way there’s enough length for the both of you to stroke down, and the way your fingers don’t even meet around his girthy width. 

As you rest your forehead against his, lip tucked between your teeth as you continue to ride him, you notice his eyes flicker to the side table for just a second.

“You want to see it?” You ask with a breathless laugh, still chasing the pleasure grinding down on his thigh offers. 

He grabs the hand you have wrapped around his cock and makes you squeeze him harder, speaking with a groan as he thrusts his hips up. “Just tell me what it is.” 

“And ruin the surprise?” 

He grunts and grabs your hips, halting your gyrating, while simultaneously smashing his mouth against yours. The kiss is rough, aggressive even, as his tongue tangled with yours, preventing you from further teasing him. Still you moan and giggle into the kiss and blindly reach behind you until you find the box.

“Just open it real quick.” 

He sighed and reluctantly let go of your hips as he took the box from you. “What is the occasion?” 

The real reason? You wanted him to remember you. You were afraid you were nothing but a novelty to him. He wanted you for now, but soon he’d get bored of you and send you away. If you were lucky, he’d kill you, but you were never that lucky in life. He’d provide a safe home for you, make you feel safe standing next to him at the grocery store, or as he picked you up from work. Then he’d leave you, leave you fearing every shadow and bump in the night. To live in the hell that was his absence. 

“A hunting knife?” He unsheathed it, admiring the sheen and sharpness of the hooked blade.

It was deadly sharp, meant for skinning game. It wasn’t anything fancy. Perfectly utilitarian. 

You hummed and stretched out again, this time to grab the bottle of lube you set aside earlier. “You’re the one that asked me if I am proud of you.” You pour some lube into one of your hands, “I was thinking about what you do, and thought you might like this.” You wrap your hand around his cock, spreading the lube along his thick shaft, “at the very least it can make a cute paperweight for your desk.” 

König groans and shuts his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head against your shoulder, as you pump his now very slick cock. His hot breath fans over your skin as he mutters your name and nips at your shoulder. But he pauses when you lean to the side and expose the top of your scar to his mouth.

Suddenly he pulls away from you and looks back at the gifted blade. “You wanted to see me covered in blood, Engel.” 

It’s not a question, though you give him a quiet little “mm-hm" before you’re sitting stock still with a blade pressed against your throat. His cock throbs in your hands as your eyes flick up to meet his. His eyes, blown wide with lust, flicker between your own gaze and the knife he holds to your throat. 

“I have never seen blood as beautiful as yours.” 

Your heart thumps in your chest, and pussy, at his words. Did he think of your blood often? Did he still think of that night? 

You squeeze your hand, giving a tantalizing grip to his cock, and tilt your head to the side, whispering a loving taunt. “It belongs to you.” 

You see droplets of blood splatter across his face before you feel the sting of your flesh sliced open. You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, as pain catches up to you. There’s a clatter of the knife being tossed onto the nightstand before you feel his large hands digging into your hips and moving you so that you are fully straddling him. 

The head of his cock slides through your folds before nudging your clit and sends a wave of pleasure through you that distracts from the pain. You whimper and shudder when you open your eyes to see the look on his face. You imagine that this is what he looked like the night he saved you, but now you see him unmasked, see how the sight of you bleeding before him is nearly driving him insane. 

König moaned when he felt the first drop of blood hit his face, his cock jumping out of your hand and pulsing wildly. Your pained little gasp that followed did not assuage his desire, if anything it fueled it even more. He quickly discarded the knife and pulled you over him, his lubed up cock running along your slick pussy drawing moans out from both of you. 

He looked up at you, lost in bliss as you rocked your hips into him, rubbing your clit onto his cock, and snaked a hand into your hair to pull you down. He breathed in the air around you, filled with the scent of your combined arousal and sweat and, as he pushed his face into your skin, the light coppery scent of your blood. 

You whined again when he disturbed the cut on your neck, the fresh wound following the exact path of the previous one, only to cry out when he drug his tongue through the blood. 

“You have the sweetest blood, my angel.” 

And with a quick, rough, grip to the back of your head, he pulled you into a searing kiss. His tongue immediately found yours as if he was intent to share the taste of you, of your blood and cum. 

His face is smeared in blood when you pull away from his hungry kiss and look at him again. You rest your forehead against his and pant for breath, eyes locking with his as he lifts your lips and properly lines his cock up. 

You whimper when you feel the head of his cock start to spread you, but even his lust filled haze he’s aware enough of himself to go slowly, letting you sink down onto his girthy length at your own pace. 

“König,” you cry when you take him fully, your entire body hot and desperate to be close to him. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his face tucked into your neck as you start to move your hips up, sliding back down with a moan as he fills you. 

He’s not quiet when your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, it feels too good to hold in the moan that rips out of his throat when you start to bounce on his cock. Slick. Your blood and sweat against his skin, your wet pussy around his cock, it’s all heavenly slick and he wants more. He groans and roughly guides your hips down to meet his own thrusts. You cling to him and moan as he easily lifts you only to slam you back down.

“My angel,” he growls hotly into your ear, his eyes rolling back when your pussy flutters tightly around his cock. 

He’s quick to shift positions, cradling the back of your head as he throws you onto your back. You only get to mourn the loss of his cock inside you for a moment before he is throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and bullying his cock back into your pussy.

The new angle allows him impossibly deeper, your moans are so loud you’re nearly screaming at this point. He moans loudly along with you when he glances down between your bodies and sees as he feels how your pussy clings to his cock, doing its best to not let go of him every time he pulls out. 

Your pussy aches and gapes when he pulls all the way out, slipping and accidentally brushing the head of his cock over your clit. You cry out, from the sensation of his slicked cockhead on your clit and for him, even this second without him filling you up is too long without him. You hook the leg he doesn’t have over his shoulder over his waist as he thrusts his cock back into you. It feels like he hits every nerve in your pussy, his pelvis grinding against yours and rubbing your clit and you can’t even say his name as your entire body begins to shake. 

Your orgasm is overwhelming, you claw and grab at König, yet at the same time the consistent grinding of his pelvis on your clit and his huge cock pistoning in and out of you has part of you wanting to push him away. He doesn’t let you, instead he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. 

König’s head drops to your shoulder, chin hitting the cut on your neck, and groans loudly as you come on his cock, your pussy clenching around him dizzyingly tight. He growls and groans when you begin to struggle against him, sending him over his own edge. He breathlessly stills as his cock throbs, filling you with his cum as your pussy continues to clench around his cock. 

Eventually his hips slow down to a slow, sensual, grind, meeting your hips in the lazy aftermath. He drops your leg from his shoulder and braces himself on his forearms while he continues to nuzzle his face into your neck, sloppy open mouth kisses licking up blood and sweat.

“König,” you sigh and nudge him. He may be holding most of his weight off of you, but he’s still crushing you into the mattress and at this point it’s so hot that it’s starting to become difficult to breathe.

He grunts, his cock giving a final pulse as he pulls out, and rolls to the side. His hand lands heavily on your thigh, “give me a moment, Engel, and I will clean you up.” 

You whine at the sudden empty feeling and, with considerable effort, turn on your side and cuddle up to him, moving his arm around you. He embraces you, eyes closed as he basks in his post orgasmic bliss. 

“You look like a vampire.” You say with a light chuckle and brush a thumb across his chin.

He grins and opens one eye to look at you, “if I could live off of your blood, Engel, I would.” 

Your laugh is cut short with a grimace as you feel his cum leak out of your pussy. “Ok, I need to get up.” 

He sits up with you and pulls you into his lap before standing. “Let me.”

“You don’t always need to carry me to the bathroom!” 

“Can you walk?” 

Actually, probably not. 

König leaves the shower first, letting you relax under the hot water a little longer while he changes the sheets on the bed. There was too much cum, sweat and blood to ignore for the night. 

He’s waiting patiently for you when you finally get out of the shower. He’s thoughtful enough to lay one of his shirts out on the clean sheets for you to wear when he’s finished bandaging you up. 

“It’s not even that bad,” you say as you let him apply an ointment and a gauze bandage on the cut that’s barely bleeding anymore. 

He doesn’t really respond, just grunts and makes sure to secure the bandage properly before he turns around to set everything down on the nightstand. 

“Ah! König!” You gasp and slap a hand over your mouth when you see long scratch marks on his back, small beads of blood surfacing on his skin.

“What!” He turns quickly, eyes wide, afraid that he hurt you.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeak out behind your hand.

“What?” 

You hang your head and hide your face in your hands. “Your back is bleeding!”

“What?” He cranes his neck to look at his own back. 

“How embarrassing,” you mumble to yourself as you take the towel that’s wrapped around you and dab the bit of blood off of him.

His chuckles turn into a laugh, a full loud sound deep from his belly, as you fuss over him. He barely lets you touch his back before he is reaching behind him and pulling you onto his lap.

He stops your protests with a kiss, a smile still pulling at his lips even as he runs his tongue over your lips. “I cut you with a hunting knife, Engel, and you’re worried about little scratches?”  

“Fine,” you hum and pull away from him enough to slip on the tee shirt he laid out for you. “But if it scars, it’ll be the least cool story you’ve got.”

He turns off the lamp as you climb under the blankets. “I disagree. It’ll be my favorite. Next time, I will make you scratch my back even more.” 

König grinned at your little laugh as you settled into his embrace for the night. No, you didn’t hurt him and no he didn’t mind a tiny bit of blood spilled. He’d drown in your blood if he could, how could he not offer you the same? 

#König x reader #könig x fem reader #serial killer au #stalker au #this is about serial killer könig. NOT könig being a serial killer #dangerous serial killer is soft only for you

[quickiesgirl]

Better Than Playboy - Robin Buckley

Paring: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Sub/Dom, Nude Photos, Mentions Of Playboy Porno Mags, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Face Fucking, My Shitty Ass Writing.

Robin's foot anxiously tapped against the floorboard of Steve Harrington’s car as he drove the three of you back to their shared apartment.

Her short brown hair fell into the sides of her face as she stared down, covering the tasteful nudes that she hid between her thighs, flustered from the sight. 

Robin's collection of Playboy porno magazines is what gave you the idea to surprise your girlfriend with some seductive polaroids, taking inspiration from your favorite women.

Moments before, you could hear the small, neatly wrapped paper slightly crumble from behind you as she subtly tried to open your little gift in the backseat, listening to a subtle grunt escape her lips once finding the hand-taken photos inside. 

You were modeling some sexy lingerie that she had never seen you in before. It was an open-cup bra and a see-through thong set, bondage-style in her favorite color, red.

It looked like you were a centerfold model with those perky titties bulging out and your bushy pubes revealing through the thin material, a matching red choker wrapped around your neck with a metal heart dangling from the bottom. 

Robin was mesmerized, but one she just couldn’t keep her eyes off. In the picture, your thighs were spread open in some matching crotchless panties, exposing your glistening pussy with the words “Wet for you <3” written on the bottom in red marker. 

She was practically drooling onto the seat, and wouldn't even be surprised if a puddle of arousal was soaking through her blue jeans. Your pussy was really gonna get some attention tonight for giving her such a perfect present. 

Throughout the drive, you knew she was becoming more and more impatient the closer you got to the apartment. She needed to be alone with you, to touch you, to taste you in that very moment. 

“Uh, Steve?” Robin questioned, leaning in close and wrapping her arms around the back of your headrest as the three of you parked outside the apartment. He glanced over his shoulder at his bestfriend and unbuckled himself, “Yeah?”

 “Would you mind giving Y/n and me a minute?” 

Steve glanced between the two of you and nodded without a single clue of what was about to happen. “Sure, I’ll be inside.” 

You watched Steve exit the car and head straight into their apartment, leaving the two of you finally alone together at last. 

You eyed the polaroids that she slipped into the front pocket of her brown flannel and frowned. “You were supposed to wait until later to open that, Robs!” 

“Yeah, I know, I know... Just couldn’t help myself. Now, get your pretty ass back here and let me suck on that pretty pussy I’ve been staring at!”  

A grin spread across your face. You could never be mad at Robin, especially, when she talked dirty. You crawled into the backseat and didn’t wait to plop your ass down into your girlfriend's warm lap, making her blushingly smile.

She pushed some hair behind your ear and buried her face into your inner neck, sensually kissing as her hands gave your ass cheeks gentle squeezes. You tilted your head to the side and lightly moaned. “W-what did you think of the pictures?”

“Mh- are you really asking me that right now?” Robin joked as you gently pushed your palm into her shoulder and playfully whined, “Robs, come on, I wanna know!” 

Your words made a giggle vibrate her lips as she intentionally suckled your sweet spots a bit rougher than normal, knowing just how to make you sing with pleasure, putting the two of you at a bigger risk of getting caught.

Her strong arms wrapped around your waist and slowly laid you across the backseat, muttering between lustful kisses down your body, “Those photos, princess, were the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

You mischievously smiled, “Better than all your playboy magazines?” 

“Oh, fuck yeah, those women could never compete with my girl!” She said proudly, making your cheeks warm up lustfully. 

Robin opened your legs apart and unbuttoned your jeans, practically ripping your pants off in excitement, ogling those see-through, cherry-red thongs. The sight made her pussy clench around nothing, and that yearning desire to please grew bigger. 

 “Fuck- was my good girl really playing with herself throughout your little photoshoot?” She asked, hand cupping your clothed core feeling heat radiate into the palm of her hand. 

“Y-yes, I fucked myself t-to the thought of you touching me,” You said with a needy moan as you shoved your cunt into her hand, watching her blue eyes darken from the sight, “a-and eating me out.” 

“Aw, all your sweet talk’s gonna make me take goood care of this pussy.” Robin smirked softly, slowly sliding your panties down before moving down and burying her face between your thighs. 

There you were, spread out in the backseat, completely disrespecting your best friend, Steve Haringinton’s beloved BMW. 

Robin's hands ran up your heated body, taking handfuls of your soft breasts as she rapidly flicked your clit with her tongue that knew just what to do.

You arched your head back against the window and reached your hands down to grip her soft, brown locks, pulling her face closer, as you practicaly fucked yourself against her long, wet, wiggling tongue, making moans so loud that the neighbors could probably hear. 

At any other time you know Robin would have held your hips down and given you a little growl demanding you to stay still, but, you two were so desperate that she gave you a one-time pass, plus you looked fucking beautiful as she gazed up at you and watched you use her for your pleasure.

Robin’s saliva dripped down your heated core, which she used as lube to slip two fingers inside your neglected cunt, and coiled back against your g-spot.  

 “Mh fuck Robin, y-you’re gonna make me cum all over that pretty face!” You moaned, feeling your hot clit throb and pussy squeezed around her as she didn't let off, feeling your hips spasm against her before her fingers were coated in your warm, milky arousal, working you through your orgasm.

You felt like you were on a cloud of euphoria as you gazed down at your girlfriend with cum glistening across her pretty lips and chin, smiling ear to ear. 

“You're so beautiful after you’ve cum,” Robin said in admiration, washing your body in little sweet kisses and caressing your thighs while you came down from your high, “Maybe next time, I’ll catch you orgasming, and make a little scrapbook of your sexy photos.”  

“You better get my good side.” You teased, giving her a playful wink that made her grin as she leaned in close and connected her lips to yours for a sloppy, pussy tasting kiss.

Her hand ran down your waist, and position her fingertips to your clitoris that was coated in a mix of cum and saliva, the perfect lube that made her glide across your swollen bud with ease.

Your thighs lightly trembled beneath her, and your lips tugged away instantly as you threw your head back from the sudden sensitivity that rushed through your body. 

 Robin never felt sympathetic when you became her sensitive baby girl because she knew you could go all fucking night. 

“Up for round two? Or does my sweet girl not wanna get caught by Steve?” 

“Mh- I-I think I’m willing to push our luck.” You breathly said, pushing your pelvis up into her hand, making her smirk, “That's my girl...”

#robin buckley #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x fem!reader smut #robin buckley x reader #robin x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things netflix #stranger things s3 #stranger things s4 #stranger things #quickiesgirl writing

[courtingchaos]

oooo but what about Doesn't-Know-He's-An-Incubus Eddie. like growing up his life was completely normal until he's older and starts having sex and he realizes he feels so.... strong.

This would be good too because the part I left out is him haunting comic book stores and tabletop game spaces because those girls are so desperate for a dude to not mansplain to them. They just want to be included and they know what they’re talking about and Eddie just loves teaching people. He’s like, the only dude who isn’t shooing them off or telling them they’re dumb. And it would get him so much ass.

Like picture it. He’s unaware of any actual power he might have. Probably got it from Al, that Munson charm he always wielded had to come from somewhere. Eddie would see these girls getting dragged around by boyfriends who could care less that they were there, if only to show the other dudes that ‘hey, I have a girlfriend and you don’t.’

He’d smile and ask them about their character sheet and next thing he knows he’s in the back of his van with her. He’s sliding into another random bed. He’s leaving after getting his world rocked enough that he feels like a brand new man. He’s finding people at the Hideout on terrible dates and suddenly he’s getting these little flashes of himself in the middle of getting his dick sucked. Nothing he’d ever seen, at least not from that angle, but they’re just brief rose tinted images.

It’d happen more and more, for longer periods. Someone’s babbling under him and he’s like, taken by visions. Sometimes it’s just him sometimes it’s someone else. Sometimes he’s just a polished version of himself, some kind of rockstar-model combo, but then he starts seeing it. That freak behavior.

“A tiefling? Really?” He asks mid stroke. He looms over her while staring through her. He can see the horns weaving through his hair. The deep purple skin and black eyes. A forked tongue flicks down at her with his grin bracketing it.

“Wh-what?” She’s breathless and gone. He shifts his gaze to catch her’s and he can’t. Eyes fogged over with lust, mist that settles over the color of her iris.

“Is this it, your big fantasy?”

“Uh huh.”

He leans in close pushing her knees into her chest. Spread open so vulnerably under him. He could eat her up and he doesn’t think she’d ever complain. Inches from her face he’s whispering to her, talking her to the edge of her pleasure. Writhing and shaking under him, nails digging into his biceps he barely notices the scratches or the draw of blood. He hasn’t noticed the change in his voice. There’s a baseline to it, something deep and reverberating and it almost strings her orgasm along longer.

When she finally comes down and unwinds from herself Eddie realizes he never came. There was a spell happening in the back of his van, something heady and new. He could snatch that image of himself out of thin air and tuck it away for later. It makes him chuckle while she’s trying to wiggle back into her jeans.

“So do you play as a tiefling or was that just something you came up with on the spot?” He’s buttoning his own jeans and doesn’t catch her giving him a weird look.

“What?”

“The…tiefling thing. Big purple guy?” The ‘me’ is implied but he doesn’t say it.

“I don’t-I’m not-“

“I’m not picking on you.” He’s quick to reassure but she looks confused, not hurt.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t think you were.” There’s a shy smile that she tries to hide. When he opens the door to help her step out she asks if he’ll be around for next weeks session. It’s unsaid but he catches the flash of the inside of his van.

“Sure.” He’s vibrating. His skin crackles and his blood sings. This feels better than any bong rip or bump he’s sniffed. There’s a tingling along his spine as he watches her walk away and he tries to figure out just what it was he was doing in the dark.

#this is a FOI blog btw sorry for the references #I just liked the book for a lot of things and I’m digging into my clay stash to mold #asks!

[snailor-bee]

Law x G!Reader / SFW  / 1.4k Summary: The captain really didn't want you to find out, but find out you did.

That he liked... romance manga?

Notes: Written for the @op-xreader-zine! Amazing art by @damagedintellect thanks for letting me write something to go with your art. ;u;

You tried the handle to the captain’s door first.

Everyone knew that Law didn’t like to be interrupted so he frequently locked the door. You’d have to knock to see if he’d let you in. If not—unless it was an emergency—then it was best to try again later.

Finding it unlocked, you walked inside, already talking.

“Captain, I got the map for the next island, and I was wondering if—” You looked up and cut yourself off at the look of pure horror on Law’s face.

He was holding a manga in between long, skinny fingers, the cover bright pink and—despite the fact that you didn’t read them—it would be hard to miss the figures on the front that just screamed ‘romance’.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Should I come back later or…”

“Lock the door,” Law ordered, voice like steel. You swallowed and did as he said. Slowly, he put down the book and motioned you closer.

Feeling trepidation drip down your spine, you did so. Law’s gold eyes burned into you. Though they were normally serious, right now they were intense.

Coming before his desk, you fidgeted. “Captain?”

He said your name and you straightened. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, no one is to hear about this. Am I understood? No one. If I hear anyone snickering around the hallways about this, I will have you removed.”

You nodded quickly. “Yessir! It won’t happen, I’ll keep it to myself!”

“Dismissed.”

Quickly you headed for the door, just as you were opening it to make your escape, you paused and then looked over your shoulder. There seemed to be a faint blush across your captain’s face but it could have just been the light. “Say… even though I won’t mention it to anyone, I also don’t think it’s a big deal? You can like what you like.” You shrugged. “Shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks, right? C’ya later, captain!”

You ducked out of the room before he could reply; heart hammering in your chest as you sped away. 

At the next island, Law grabbed you before you could head out with your friends, a hand tightly gripping your inner arm and dragging you away. Everyone watched you go with confused expressions and you whimpered in terror, reaching out for them.

Everyone knew that the captain didn’t go out into town except with a few shipmates—those who had been on the sub the longest and that most definitely didn’t include you.

“W-what’s up?” you asked when he’d led you far enough to be out of earshot of the crew.

“Wanted to show you something,” he muttered under his breath and didn’t elaborate any further.

Finally, he stopped outside of a bookstore, and you barely got to glance at the display before he escorted you inside. His shoulders were hunched over as if he didn’t want to be seen as he silently led you to a corner.

Manga lined the walls there, but it was clear where the romance section started, the covers all bright and colorful. He eyed the shelves before pulling one down.

“Did you mean what you said the other day, y/n-ya?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah of course!”

“Then maybe you can do me a favor…?” he trailed off meaningfully.

“Sure!” You didn’t know what it was, but you figured it couldn’t be that bad, right?

He held up the manga book in front of him. “I’m collecting these, but I’m missing volumes. Would you help me?”

You stared at the cover, some dude leaning against the wall while a girl blushed as they stared at each other. It took a moment for the request to permeate. “Uh… what?”

“Check if bookstores have them when we stop at an island. I’d pay you, for the cost and the time of course.”

“And why not… do it yourself?”

Law shifted, looking slightly uneasy. “It’s embarrassing,” he confessed at last. “You’re a girl, it wouldn’t be as weird if you’re buying them.”

You opened your mouth to argue, already offended by the statement before he held up a hand. “Y/n-ya, I literally have ‘death’ tattooed across my knuckles.” Your lips twisted into a frown and you crossed your arms.

“So what! You like a girly series, who cares?”

He made his own displeased face at your phrasing. “I have a certain… reputation.” You tapped your foot, unimpressed. Law sighed. “Look, I’d appreciate it, okay? It’s just uncomfortable for me. When people find out, they normally laugh and crack jokes. You were the first person who… didn’t.”

Immediately, your irritation melted away and you heaved your own sigh, unfolding your arms. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll do.”

You watched as Law didn’t quite smile but his lips definitely quirked up. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; it was rare to see the captain content, let alone happy, especially by something that you had caused.

“Thank you,” he said solemnly.

Which was how you found yourself as a sort of delivery bird. On each island you came to, you went hunting for Shoreleave Passion! much to the amusement of your friends. You didn't explain, besides saying that someone showed it to you, and you liked it enough to keep reading.

Which wasn’t entirely untrue. Apparently, Law figured that you doing his deliveries also meant he now had someone to confide in. So you were up-to-date on the series, despite never reading it (which came in handy whenever someone decided to ask what it was about) but you also got to hear Law’s personal theories and headcanons.

They were… numerous and long. The two of you were spending a fair amount of time together. More than one person had asked if you were dating, as Law met you for dinner or lunch to exchange the book, and then, since you were there already, ate and hung out together or he would pull you into his office for hours-long rundowns of the latest volume.

It was nice though. You found that you didn’t mind. You got to watch as Law’s face lit up in a way you had never seen before and, if you were honest with yourself, all the sudden one-on-one time had you harboring a rather large crush on your captain. But really, who could blame you? Even before you had started spending time with the man, you had thought he was attractive, so getting to know him on a personal level made it far, far too easy to start to like him.

While you were musing walking through the Polar Tang a hand unexpectedly covered your mouth and your eyes widened as you were dragged into a closet, your scream muffled.

“Y/n-ya, calm down, it’s just me,” Law reprimanded, as he held you against his chest until you relaxed. Once he relaxed his grip, you spun around and smacked him in the chest.

“What was that for!” you hissed, and he shushed you.

“People can be walking down this way, keep your voice down.”

You glared at him, and Law cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit sheepish.

“I heard that the final volume is on the island. At a specific store.” He gave you the directions, and you nodded along, eyes maybe a tad too focused on the curve of his mouth as he spoke. “I also wanted to… thank you, for doing all of this for me.”

That snapped you out of it and your eyes shot up to meet his.

Law held your gaze. “It’s been… nice,” he said slowly. You blinked back. Were the two of you closer? When did that happen? Unconsciously, you licked your lips and watched as his gold eyes tracked the movement.

Butterflies started battering at the sides of your stomach. Law reached out and ran his fingers across your cheekbone, making you fight down a shiver.

“What could I possibly do to thank you for all you've done?” Law went on, his breath ghosting against your lips as he leaned towards you.

You swallowed. “It’s no problem…” Your eyelids fluttered closed at his close proximity, hope beating an erratic tempo in your chest.

When his lips brushed yours, it felt like you could have soared as you gasped and reached out blindly for him, hands burrowing into his shirt.

It was a simple kiss, just your lips pressed together so sweetly that you swore you tasted sugar when he pulled away. You licked your lips again and chuckled weakly.

“Wow,” you said with amazement.

Law smirked. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you confirmed, tugging on his shirt to get him to lean back down. “Kiss me again."

#one piece #one piece x reader #law x reader #bee writes #bee writing #female reader

[mockerycrow]

I literally just want anything Rudy x Reader or Alejandro x Reader 😩

I Wanna Know What Love Is (Rudy x GN!Reader)

masterlist

Summary: You work at a local coffee shop that Rudy frequents and he works up the courage to ask you out on a date.

A/N: THERE IS NOT ENOUGH RUDY CONTENT!! thank you for the request, anon. <3 let me know if my translations are wrong. btw, yes, the title is a song. Reader is implied to be Mexican.

WARNINGS: Pure fluff!

Rudy doesn’t think it’s fair; the way you look, the way you act, your unnecessary kindness. Part of him knows it’s customer service, it’s a part of the mask you must have for your customers—a similar mask he must hold for the people he faces as well—but he couldn’t help the way his gut tightened at your smile.

Rudy’s never really had crushes like that before, maybe he’s had a few hookups here and there, a consistent sexual partner once or twice, but he never actually found anyone romantically enticing. You’ve had a quite few good talks with Rudy when you were less busy, usually at the end of rush hour. He’s learned a bit about you during those times; your favorite color, some of your hobbies, a few names of your close friends that he doesn’t really remember at the moment, and some other minor things.

Rudy can’t help but feel so.. attracted to you. He finds himself antsy to get to this little coffee shop, knowing you’ll be there. You told him you don’t work Thursday’s or Friday’s, so he doesn’t end up going, but you don’t need to know that. Rudy was never much a coffee person, but he’ll fake it every time for you to make his drink. He became a regular and you immediately picked up his drink choices.

“What will it be today, Rudy?” You grin, leaning your hands on the counter that has the cash register resting on it. You’re wearing your uniform; black polo, blue jeans, an apron and a company hat. Your fingers push at the pen at rests just at your fingertips absentmindedly. Rudy thinks he dies right then and there. He’s never heard his name sound so good coming from someone else; let alone his nickname. He didn’t even have to ask you to call him Rudy. “Straight black,” He murmurs in response, taking out his wallet. You hum as you watch him feel around for his wallet and you wave your hand. “No es necesario, señor.” You reply, pushing yourself from the counter.

Rudy’s eyebrows furrow and look at you, pausing his movements. “It’s on the house.” You simply gives him a smile before you walk further behind the counter, leaving him dumbfounded. A simple motion such as that shouldn’t be sending your heart pounding, but it is. He quietly walks over to the other counter where you would collect your coffee if you had ordered. Your smile and your words are sending him into a spiral, and he know that shouldn’t have much of an effect on you, but again; it is.

You interrupt his thoughts by placing the double plated paper cup in front of him, causing Rudy’s gaze to snap to you. And of course, he feels his cheeks burn as he can’t hold back a soft smile. “Gracias,” He murmurs quietly, holding eye contact as he takes the cup from the counter. You nod and grin, your tone a teasing one. “You’re so basic with your coffee choices. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re coming here just to see me!”

Rudy’s heart dropped to his stomach, his smile faltering ever so slightly. How did you kno—

You laugh and wave it off. “Ah, cálmate! I’m only messing with you. Maybe I could expand your tastes later with some Kahlúa.”

“I’d like that,” Rudy blurts out.

Oh shit.

You blink at him and giggle quietly after a moment. “Yeah? You would?”

Rudy clears his throat, trying to ignore the ache in his chest from his heart rapidly beating at an abnormal pace for too long. He nods, a nervous smile coming to his face. “Yeah, maybe, uh.. we could do something together? ¿Puedes hacerme esa bebida especial?”

You don’t say anything for a moment and Rudy is fully convinced you’re about to laugh in his face—wait, are you blushing?

You bite your lip as you grab a napkin and take a pen out of a pocket in your apron, writing something down.

His eyebrows raise as he realizes it; you’re accepting his offer for a date.

You slide the napkin over to Rudy, that big, yet shy smile remaining on your face. ‘Pink looks good on you.’ Rudy thinks in the back of his head, loving how your blush outlines your cheekbones. He looks down at it and he scored your number. He looks back at you with a similar grin to yours.

“I’m off tomorrow. Text me whenever and we’ll see if you can hold your liquor, yeah?”

Yes, definitely yes.

No es necesario, señor. = No need, sir./It’s not necessary, sir.

Gracias. = Thank you.

Cálmate! = Calm down!/Take it easy!

Kahlúa. = A Mexican coffee liqueur, typically made into ice coffee.

¿Puedes hacerme esa bebida especial? = Can you make me that special drink?

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #mw2 2022 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #cod #cod mw2 #rudy x reader #rudolfo x reader #rudolfo parra #rudolfo parra x reader #modern warfare two #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #rudy modern warfare #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #mwii #call of duty mw2 #mwii x reader #rudy mwii #cod mwii #songficz

[vintagebunnies]

as above, so below

part i | part ii

eddie munson x succubus!fem!reader

Eddie summons you back, but this time it’s for revenge. (3.9k)

mean dom eddie, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, face slapping, spitting, succubus reader, fem reader, demon sex, mentions of gore (nothing happens), handcuffs, slight dacryphilia, mdni 18+!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

It’s been about a week since Eddie has last seen you. All that was left of you were the everlasting marks around his body, and the smoky message left on the bathroom mirror.

Well, the red and purple surrounding his neck and collarbones are lasting a lot longer than your little message. As soon as he saw the foreign words on his mirror, he immediately wiped them away. Not wanting Wayne to see it, but also how the hell would he explain that?

The book he checked out of the library needed to be sent back soon, only one more day with the book in his ownership. In its old and crumbling glory, it was sitting right on top of his desk. He kept eyeing it as if it’d grow legs and walk away.

With the way things played out that night, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Eddie knew you were dangerous. The strength you showed that night was unrivaled, you were capable of doing whatever you pleased. Hell, you could’ve fucking killed him! But you didn’t.

That’s what confused him the most—you are a supernatural being who spared his life—why him? Was it because he summoned you? Did you find him interesting? What made you choose Eddie and let him live?

As scary as Eddie looked, he didn’t know much about demons or anything paranormal, so it was just odd to him. The main source of his knowledge about this kind of stuff was just from horror movies. Fiction. Everyone knew those movies were fake, made straight from the glitz and glam of Hollywood.

But he couldn’t help himself from constantly thinking about you. He would spend hours in his room just analyzing the abundance of marks left on his pale skin.

Eddie was sitting on his bed, eyeing the book.

He knew he was stupid for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop thinking of all of the pain and pleasure he received that night.

Yeah, you were dangerous or whatever, but fuck, did he miss you.

He stood up from his bed after being lost in thought, heading straight for the book. Eddie grabbed the book but didn’t immediately open it, instead just analyzed the front cover.

Eddie thought back to the day at the library. When he first came up with the idea of partaking in a ritual, it was supposed to be harmless fun. He didn’t expect for what happened to actually happen.

He opened to the front page of the book, the contents of each chapter laid out in front of him on the yellowing pages.

The dog eared page was still marked.

With that page still being partially unread, since he only read about how to actually perform the ritual, he decided it was time to find out what you really were.

Eddie made his way back over to his bed, not paying attention to his surroundings.

“What’cha got there boy?” Wayne asked, making Eddie jump.

“Shit!” Eddie was so spooked by Wayne’s sudden appearance, he stubbed his toe right on the legs of his bed frame.

From the adrenaline of being snuck up on, he dropped his book, and it landed with the cover right side up, exposing the title of it to Wayne.

Wayne never was one to snoop, knowing Eddie was a grown adult and had the right to privacy. But he couldn’t help being curious on what Eddie was getting up to.

Wayne grabbed the book off of the floor, reading the title aloud. “The Grand Grimoire,” Immediately noticing the illustrated devil on the title, he stared Eddie down, who was still cradling his sore toe.

“D’you mind telling me why you have this?” He flipped the open book towards Eddie, who was now derived from any color in his face.

“Uh- it’s uh, just for research. Y’know, just a little curious,” Eddie gave Wayne an awkward chuckle, trying to lie his way out of it. But Wayne wasn’t stupid. He could see right through Eddie like he was transparent.

“Boy, I don’t know how dense you think I am, but why the hell would you need research on this?” Wayne shook the book around in his hand, trying to enunciate his point. “Listen, you’re old enough to know better. Don’t be messin’ around with this. Return it.” He gave Eddie a stern look.

Eddie knew Wayne was right, but was he gonna listen? No.

“I’ll uh, return it tomorrow. Promise. The library is closed by now, so I kinda have’ta wait,” Eddie wasn’t planning on Wayne finding out about this at all, so he’s at a complete loss for words.

“You better. Came in here to tell ya I’m leaving now, but then I saw this. Just please, think twice before you do this kinda stuff.” With that, Wayne turned to leave.

“Yeah, yeah of course! Don’t worry,” Eddie followed Wayne out into the living area, seeing him out.

Eddie and Wayne bid their farewells to each other, Wayne giving Eddie a hard-nosed stare as he walked out of the trailer.

As soon as Eddie shut the steel door, he exhaled a big breath. Not realizing he was even holding it.

His heart was beating a mile a minute. There was a reason why he got the book when Wayne wasn’t home, afraid of this interaction.

After all, Wayne was right. Eddie shouldn’t be messing with stuff like this, it’s too dangerous and you never know what you might conjure.

Eddie walked back into his bedroom, staring hard at the book that was now on his bed. He had to take a moment to think about it, if he should still try to get into contact with you again.

Fuck it.

He was gonna do it no matter what anyone says, he knows the risks. But he also knows the good that’ll come out of this. Seeing you, in all of your dangerous ways.

He could feel himself get hard again from the thought of you.

“Jesus.” Eddie whispered to himself, he felt like a hormonal teenager again. Getting aroused from the mere thought of you, to the thought of your body and your voice.

God, your voice.

Your voice was painfully sweet sounding. The way you spoke to him. The way your sharp teeth gleamed under the warm candlelight every time you opened your mouth.

This was it.

Eddie was going to perform the ritual whether Wayne liked it or not.

He hated disobeying Wayne, but he knew to be cautious. Or cautiously stupid.

Eddie picked up the book and finally thought it was time to stop beating around the bush and just do it.

He finished setting everything up, now sitting in the center of the salt pentagram, open book in hand, reading over the pages one last time.

Eddie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. He was more nervous this time around than he was the last time. Tense from the possible outcome.

He repeated the trigger words over and over for a solid minute. Nothing. It was taking a lot longer than it did the last time, you showed up almost immediately last week.

Eddie was constantly checking around his room, seeing if you were anywhere to be seen. He even reread the words that were supposed to evoke you, nothing was wrong.

He tried it once more, and all he got was a few candles to flicker.

Eddie started to grow frustrated, rubbing his hands down his face.

“Fuck this shit.” Eddie was fed up. It was a bunch of bullshit. At this point Eddie was sure he came home obliterated last week and gave himself the scare with the message on the bathroom mirror.

The marks on his body? Probably some shitty hookup.

He stood up and blew out all of the candles, swept up all of the salt, and he chucked the book across the room making it leave a resounding thud against the plaster walls.

Eddie doesn’t know why he was so mad, he always believed in the supernatural and paranormal beings, but now he thinks it was all just bogus. All glorified in the movies.

Sitting back onto his bed, the old rusty springs creaking under his weight, he rested his head in his hands.

You were just a figment of his imagination, something he made up in a fake fantasy world when he was horny just so he can get himself off.

He decided it was time to just forget about you and everything, and just sleep.

Eddie turned off all of his bedroom lights and just laid back in bed, staring up at the pitch black ceiling.

At first he thought there was a chance that you were real, that what he experienced was real. But it just doesn’t add up, so he made every scenario he possibly could to explain how it was all fraud. The book was a fraud.

He did everything in the ritual the same as he did the last time, so there was no explanation he could give himself to point at the book giving answers or demon summoning even being existent.

Eddie finally gave up fighting with his thoughts and just closed his eyes, ready to just ignore this all.

Almost falling asleep, he was shivering because of the room dropping about ten degrees. There was cold air that just started to surround his body, like a sheet of ice forming over water in winter.

He pulled his blankets around himself tighter, hoping to fight off the freezing air.

The warmth from the blanket wasn’t helping, now the wintry air was coming from under the blanket. Eddie looked around from where he was faced on the side of the bed, trying to find the culprit of what was making him frigid.

Eddie decided that it was probably air coming from the open door to his bedroom, maybe a window was open somewhere out in the living area. So he turned over. But right as he did so, he felt his heart drop.

There you were.

Sitting on the right side of his bed, head resting in your hand from your arm that was propped up on your elbow.

That’s why it was cold.

Eddie tried pinching himself, pulling his hair, anything that could potentially wake him up from a dream. This was real this time.

You were right in front of his very eyes, and very real.

“Salve, mortalis.” You were giving him a malicious smile, but your inky black eyes were looking up at him with affection.

All Eddie could do was stare at you, you scared the everloving shit out of him, showing up like that. But he was thrilled to see you again.

“I can feel your eyes burning into me, Eddie.” Your voice was still as soft as ever. Like a fuzzy warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Eddie sat up, facing himself towards you. You sat up too, leaning up on your elbows and sitting with your knees slightly bent in front of you

“You’re back.” Eddie says incredulously. “I didn’t think you were going to come back, you didn’t show up before.”

“O mortalem miserum, you missed me,” Your tone was dripping in sarcasm, clearly amused.

“Why didn’t you show up?” Eddie was tired of your constant laid back attitude, as if you weren’t a fucking demon. “Isn’t that like, your fucking job? To show up when someone performs this shit ritual?” Eddie was infuriated, he doesn’t know why he felt such malice towards you this time.

You weren’t some chick from the bar, waiting to get fucked by the next rockstar to cross your path. You were a disciple of the devil!

Your face dropped to something akin to anger, clearly showing your distaste of his tones. “How dare you speak to me like that, mortal?” You sat up. “After I gave you such pleasure, you treat me like this.”

Sitting up on your knees, you crawled closer to Eddie. “You should be punished, stultum hominem.”

You were practically nose to nose with Eddie now, but what came next is what shocked him the most. You suddenly lunged, slapping Eddie hard across the face then pinning him down to his stained sheets by his neck.

Eddie gasped, waiting for you to just snap his neck, maybe cut right into his jugular, watch him choke on his own blood.

Something else caught your attention though, making you smile wickedly.

You could feel Eddie’s cock grow hard under you from where you were straddling his lap, making you squeeze his neck.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back into his head from the pressure right on his larynx. He felt disgusting for being turned on. This was probably how he’d get killed, strangled to death because he was thinking with the wrong head.

Fortunately, you weren’t planning on killing him tonight, releasing your grip on his neck and putting your hand right on his cheek, the cheek where your hand print is starting to flourish with red.

“Silly man, getting aroused from pain,” You whispered the last part. “What shall I do with you?” You tilted your head like a curious dog, similar to Eddie’s puppy dog eyes staring right back at you.

“You could um- start by getting off of me,” Even Eddie was surprised by his sudden boldness, if this was his first time meeting you he wouldn’t have dared to say something like that.

But all you did was laugh, a maniacal laugh. “Ut obliviscatur qui in crimen videris.” Your voice lowered into a deeper octave, leaning down to be face to face with Eddie.

Eddie still has no clue what you said, but it just provoked him to tease you more. “Yeah, I’m not your bitch,” He suddenly switched positions, pushing you off of him to now be under him, the movement made you let out a gasp, eliciting a smile out of Eddie from catching you off guard. “But tonight you will be.”

He was leant over you, his breath fanning over your ear.

Eddie moved his hand to rest over your throat, identical to the way yours was before.

He nibbled on the skin right under your ear, soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. You closed your eyes and let out a quiet groan from the sensation.

Eddie squeezed his hand tighter around your throat, not even sure if it’s doing anything to control your breathing. Even if it didn’t, it still made your breathing slightly accelerate.

He started to kiss from your jaw down to your neck. “I’m,” Kiss. “Going to,” Another kiss. “Fuck you stupid.” Bite.

Eddie could feel your legs move from where they were pinned under him, he was sat right over your lap just like how you were sat over his. He had you completely trapped under him.

He let go of your neck, not even seeing you take a deep inhale to catch your breath.

Slowly sitting up from his position, he reared his hand back and slapped you right in the face, just like what you did to him. The momentum from the slap made your head move to the side. You had a grin on your face from the sudden act of dominance from Eddie, a complete different contrast to how he was the last time.

You were biting your lip when you went to face him again, but when you went to look at him he was standing up from his bed, going towards the silver handcuffs hanging on his wall.

He slowly sauntered back over to the bed, looking down at the handcuffs in this hand, then back at you. “You’re not going to use your hands, I’ve had enough of you having your way with me.” When he got closer to where your head was resting on the bed, he grabbed both of your hands, and cuffed them to the bedpost above your head.

You were just staring up at him with this sick look on your face, clearly enjoying every second of this. You had an everlasting smirk engraved on your face.

“Fac tibi pessimi.” You whispered.

Eddie gave you a small smack on the side of your face, not enough to rear your head to the side but enough to catch your attention. “Shut the fuck up.”

He crawled back onto the bed, slowly stripping off his clothes as he did so. Eddie moved to spread your legs to bracket his hips, hands right on the underside of your knees.

Eddie grasped his cock and tapped it right over your dripping pussy, making your hips jump from the heaviness of it.

“I’m not giving you the satisfaction of fucking you yet,” He dropped your legs back onto the bed. “You’re going to suck my cock.” As Eddie said that, he made his way to where your head was resting, his leaking cock now leveled with your mouth.

“Open your fucking mouth, whore.” His hand gripped the top of your scalp, moving your head side to side trying to enunciate his point.

You obliged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. Eddie didn’t waste any time, and shoved his entire length down your throat.

Just like the first time you sucked him off, you didn’t gag. Taking him all the way to the hilt with no issue.

“Yeah—mm—take my fucking cock,” Eddie groaned. He had an unyielding grip on your hair, guiding your head up and down.

You were slobbering all over his dick, but you fucking loved it. The roughness, and messiness of it all was perfect. You never expected him to snap, he was terrified of you, you can sense it. But you wanted him to use you, use your body like it’s a temple. Giving him all the pleasure he desires.

“Shit—“ Eddie’s voice was getting weak, indicating he was close to his release so you sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing. “Fucking dirty slut,” He pulled out of your mouth, slapping you across the face.

Eddie grabbed your jaw before you could face the impact of his slap, tucking his thumb into your mouth right behind your teeth, spitting in your mouth, then forcing your mouth shut. Before you could even swallow, Eddie spit right over your closed mouth, then smearing it across the bottom half of your face.

“Yeah? You like being treated like this? Like being used?” You nodded with a smile on your face, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue back out. Eddie spit right back into your open mouth, bending down to bite the side of your neck.

You gasped and pulled on your binds. You knew if you wanted to, you could easily snap the metal chains holding the cuffs together, but you were also curious to see where he’d take this.

Eddie trailed kisses down to your chest, biting the plush skin around your breast, then leaving a bite right over your nipple making you moan aloud. Eddie slapped your tit in retaliation, watching the flesh jiggle from the force.

Eddie crawled back down so now he was back to being right in between your legs. He sat up straight and spit right onto your cunt, then taking his fingers and forcefully spreading it around your clit.

“Oh— Eddie,” You gasped.

“Hm? It’s Eddie now? What about the other names you called me before, huh?” He was looking down at you from the slope of his nose.

Eddie dragged his middle and index finger towards your dripping hole, and pushed them both in with no resistance, making your legs push against your chest and knocking your knees together.

You threw your head back from the pressure and the pleasure, your mouth opening to make way for quiet moans.

Eddie‘s pace gradually got faster, adding his thumb in the mix to rub your clit.

You could feel your release hurriedly coming closer, making your cunt clench and convulse over Eddie’s fingers.

“Yeah, fucking squirt all over me bitch,” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth, pulling his fingers out of your cunt with a wet squelch and landing a few slaps over your soaked clit.

Eddie’s harsh words and his onslaught on your cunt made your release spray all over his pelvis, and you let out a scream in response.

Your legs were continuously shaking from his rough fingers, and your breathing grew heavy.

“I’m not fucking done with you.” Eddie spread your legs wider, positioning himself right in between them and rubbing his hard cock over your quivering cunt, smearing your release.

Eddie tapped the tip of his dick over your swollen clit, making your hips jump away from the sensation.

He gave you no reprieve before he was shoving his entire length into your sore cunt, making you moan out loud and your brow furrow.

Eddie grabbed onto your neck with his right hand, slapping you across the face with his left.

His starting pace was furious. Not giving your cunt a break, slamming in and out of you, making you let out a moan with each thrust.

Eddie’s hand squeezed around your neck as your cunt clenched around his cock, making him groan.

“Fuck yeah—squeeze my cock you slut,” His words were shakey from his pace and your quick submission. Eddie looked down at your face; your cheek was a dark red from how many times he’s slapped you, your chin was shiny with yours and Eddie’s mixed saliva, and your eyes were squinted from his cock.

You felt like Eddie’s cock was jabbing your cervix, making tears spring in the corner of your eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, he smiled at the thought of making you cry just like how you made him.

“Cry me a fucking river, you did this to yourself.” Eddie gripped the underside of your thighs, pushing them both to your chest, contorting your body.

The new position made Eddie push deeper into your warm walls, hitting that spot perfectly.

You bit your lip so hard you drew blood, squeezing your eyes shut making the tears fall down your cheeks. Eddie bent down over you, licking the tears off your face then landing a slap on your thigh, close to your ass.

The feeling of Eddie’s palm slapping you made you arch your back, letting out garbled moans and cumming on his cock a second time.

“Cum in me Eddie, quaeso.” You were staring up at him with glassy eyes, and a flushed face.

Your demand made Eddie sit up straight, thrusting into you harder and grinding his cock in your spent hole.

It wasn’t long before Eddie was cumming inside of you, a dam bursting and filling you to the brim with his warm spend. Eddie gave a few more rough thrusts into your sopping cunt, riding out his orgasm.

He leant down over you, holding himself up with his hand next to your head, trying to catch his breath.

Eddie completely forgot about the cuffs that were wrapped around your wrists until he heard the snap of the chains holding them together snap. He looked up from his position and saw that you broke out of them, trailing your hands up and down his back and petting his hair, letting him come down from the high.

Eddie didn’t even bat an eye, just collapsed back over you enjoying the warmth of contact with another.

A few minutes passed, Eddie was passed out and you were able to move yourself without waking him up.

Eddie was laying on his stomach, his hair all over the place and damp from sweat. He looked truly beautiful. You gave a genuine smile from how peaceful he looked.

Before leaving you made sure to leave a small kiss on the back of his head.

Making sure to leave a note that said, “Iterum revertar, Eddie.”

ཐི♡ཋྀ

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x succubus!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x demon!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[regscupid]

10/29 prompt: blood - spiderman au, injury (938 words) - @jegulus-microfic

It took a while, but three years after the spider bite and countless run-ins with everything from petty criminals to worldwide threat-level supervillains, James considered himself a pro at thinking on his feet. Standing ten feet away from a wide-eyed Regulus Black in a room that definitely did not belong to his best friend, bleeding profusely from his side– he’s not so sure anymore.

They could’ve been locked in a staring contest for ten seconds or ten minutes, he wouldn't know. James liked Regulus’ eyes, and seeing them directed at him, softened at the edges with worry, or maybe panic— despite James knowing he still had his mask on so it wasn’t about it being him— instead of the usual cold sharpness kept his feet firmly planted where he stood. Unfortunately, before long the quiet sound of something dripping on the carpet pulled at their attention.

Regulus has always been pale, but James watched all color drain from his face when his eyes landed where his hand pressed down on his wound– now much darker than the usual vibrant red of his suit.

“Uh— sorry, wrong house?” He said in an entirely unconvincing faux-deep voice. And with that James was back outside before Regulus could reply, crawling his way to the next window over. Maybe it was the injury or the adrenaline from the night beginning to wear off, but the panic of Regulus seeing Spiderman in his fucking bedroom hadn’t set in yet. It would eventually, but he would deal with one problem at a time.

After quietly lifting Sirius’ window— always left a little bit open for him— he stumbled his way in just to be met with a dark, empty room.

James frowned, trying to remember if Sirius had said anything about having plans that night. He sighed and flopped down on the rug, digging under the bed for the first aid kit they always kept stocked. It probably didn’t count as a first aid kit at that point, filled tight with the kind of medical supplies you’d find in an emergency room, not the little red box kept in most people’s bathrooms.

Just as he flipped the box open, quick footsteps stopped abruptly at the door before it swung open.

Regulus stood under the doorframe. To anyone who didn’t know him better, he would have seemed calm and collected, almost bored. But James had cataloged everything he could get from Regulus since he was twelve. And maybe it was a bit of spidey sense, just heightening what had already become second nature for him. The way his thumb fiddled with the door handle, his other hand gripping at the leg of his pajama bottoms. He was having his own internal freak-out.

“He’s not home,”

James blinked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He weakly tried the dumb voice again, and was met with an unimpressed look.

“I know it’s you, James. I've known for ages.”

James had a long, arduous night. He was fighting for what felt like hours, thrown into the ground countless times, but those words were the first thing to knock the air out of him.

“I’m not—“ he tried again, more of a wheeze than anything this time.

“I’m not stupid.” Regulus stepped into the room, looking over his shoulder before closing the door behind him with a soft click.

James didn’t speak as Regulus got closer, stopping in front of him and holding his palm out expectantly. James continued to clutch the first aid kit, unmoving. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I’m literally pre-med. Give it to me.”

Not seeing a way out, James sighed in defeat and handed over the box.

Regulus turned on his heel and marched his way into Sirius’ bathroom, only looking back to check if James was following. He was, of course.

James plopped down on the toilet seat as Regulus washed his hands. The panic of Regulus figuring him out started to subside as the pain in his side grew more urgent, so he pulled his mask off with a groan. It was a deep one, so he was still actively bleeding, but he could already feel his body beginning to rapidly heal. He’d be fine.

When he glanced up, their eyes met for just a moment before Regulus quickly looked away, rinsing a hand towel with warm water. The silence began to be too much, so James did what James did best, talk.

“How did you know it was me?”

Regulus glanced at him and huffed humorlessly. 

“It’s obvious.” He leaned down to get a closer look at the wound. His head stopped a few inches from James’ face and he was hit with the smell of his shampoo, something clean and crisp. “I’ll need to cut some of this away.” He pulled gently at his suit.

“That’s fine,” James replied absentmindedly, “It’s not obvious, no one has ever just figured out it’s me.” 

Regulus pulled a small pair of medical scissors from the kit and fully kneeled down to snip carefully through the fabric. James was used to heightened senses, but his skin buzzed like a live wire with every moment Regulus sat on his knees, touch so gentle but purposeful.

“They don’t pay attention,” Regulus muttered, focused on his task and unaware of the smile making its way onto James’ face.

“And you do? Pay attention?” James asked quietly.

Regulus’ hands stilled for just a moment before reaching for the damp towel on the counter and turning back to his work. He dabbed at the skin around the wound, but James wasn’t paying attention to that.

“Of course I do.”

#a day late but better late than never right #jegulus #starchaser #jegulus microfic #my microfics #regulus black #james potter