#and that he and Tails have matching jackets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hexescore · 3 days ago

Text

hey, hey, let's match!

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: little snippets of matching items with (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader.

❀ ◞ author note: this is my first time writing for the arcane characters, so i hope i wrote them well! please enjoy!

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

bracelet or ring

The silver band was wrapped perfectly around Caitlyn's wrist, catching the light as she pulled her hair back into a high pony tail. She had come home later than usual and despite claiming she'd do better and work/life balance, she picked up right where she left off at work.

"Cait?" You call, peaking your head into her little workspace, seeing she's hung up a few new leads on her bulletin board. "Dinner's done," You walk further into the space, glancing around. It looked different than the last time you'd been in there, messier.

"Mmhm, I'll be there in a minute," She murmurs, "Just got a few more things to take care of..." You nod in acknowledgment, but don't leave. Instead you glance around the room some more, inspecting random but meticulously put together files and pictures.

Finally, you've made your way to where she sits in her leather desk chair, your hand gently touching her shoulder. She tenses at the sudden contact, but almost as quickly melts into your touch. She tilts her head just enough to press a kiss to your hand- her eyes catching the matching silver bracelet you wore. Despite it being subtle, the fact you two are matching causes her to grin, little butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "It's your favorite," You refer back to the dinner you mentioned, "Let's eat together."

Blue eyes trail from the silver band up to your eyes, and she bites her cheek to hold back from cooing at how much she adores you. "Alright," She sighs, pressing another kiss to your hand before packing up her work. She'll have time to do it later.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

EKKO

small couple trinket set.

The smooth, wooden surface of the little cat trinket in Ekko's jacket calms his mind long enough for him to find his footing. It's not often, but when the responsibilities and fear of failing start piling up, Ekko's anxiety reaches peak. When his thumb runs over the cool wood of the trinket though he's able to calm his mind and remember back to a better moment.

"Isn't it cute? It looks like you, don't you think?" You tease as you hold the pouty looking cat trinket up to his face. You almost choke on a laugh at the way his expression matches the cat so perfectly. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at your antics as he spots the matching trinket. He picks up the other cat and smirks, holding up the cat to your face.

"Now that's a match." He says, and when you peak at the cat it's got a rather confused and dumbfounded look on it's face. You scoff, grumbling that you do not look like that. He chuckles as you set the cat down in defeat, moving on to the next stall. As you're distracted, he picks up the matching trinket set and buys them to surprise you with later.

He'll never forget the way you lit up as he handed you the cat that apparently "looked like him." Your giddy, child-like smile as you accepted it and proudly declared you named it 'Ekko Jr.' before informing him you'll 'treasure it forever and ever.' He then promptly showed you the matching piece, which you rolled your eyes at but ever so graciously allowed him to keep. Yeah, a better moment to remember.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JAYCE TALIS

outfits.

"You two truly are disgusting." Viktor commented, with no malice, as you and Jayce entered the lab. Jayce just held a grin akin to a child in a candy store on his face as he looked over your outfit again- which matched his perfectly. It was surprising how many outfits Jayce coordinated in order to match you in some way or another.

"You're just jealous." Jayce held his head high with pride, turning to press a kiss to your cheek. "I'll pick you up later, okay?" You smile, leaning into the kiss and soaking up what warmth you could from him. Anyone who saw you two would surely get a tummy ache at how sweet the moment was.

"I'll be the one in the matching outfit." You chuckle, your laughter only growing at Viktor's faux vomiting. You decide to leave willingly before you were forced out, but not before giving Jayce quick peck on the lips. You run away as you hear a playful argument rise between the two.

"Seriously, how many outfits can you possibly match together?" Viktor sighs, shaking his head as he turns to continue his work.

"All of them." Jayce says earnestly, almost too prideful to not have a single article of clothing that doesn't have a matching counterpart to yours.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JINX

nail polish.

It was easy to be captivated by Jinx, her voice like the lure of a siren, as she chats away about her day to you. She only gets this way because she trusts you, which in turns makes your own walls come down. Your eyes closed as you relax in her presence. Last time she had convinced you to match nail polish with her, a subtle way to claim you as hers to those in Zaun who eye you, thus you lay with your hand in hers.

Eventually she runs out of things to say and begins to just hum random tunes as the brush of the nail polish runs along your fingernails in a precise motion- as if she was painting on her newest creations. "Pink, blue, pink, blue~" When she's done she blows on them to help dry them faster.

"Jiiinx, that tickles," you whine, causing her to eye you with a mischievous smirk. At the quiet, you peak an eye open, which you regret as that's when Jinx pounces, straddling your lap and tickling you with a menacing laughter escaping her lips. "N- No! St- Stop! Please! I c- can't!" You squeak between laughing, thrashing around as she continues her attack- eventually you manage to get her off, but she looks ready to lunge at you any time.

"If you keep it up I won't let you finish my nails-" You lightly threaten, which causes her to hesitate, but she ultimately decides that maybe you could pull off a one-handed nail polish thing before attacking you again.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

MEL MEDARDA

stationery (pen).

It was a beautiful fountain pen with gold accents, and along the side in beautiful calligraphy was engraved 'forever.' It was by far Mel's favorite pen, it wrote smoothly, was beautiful to look at, but even more than that, it was a reminder of why she did what she did. For at home there was a matching counterpart to this pen, engraved with 'and always,' that always had her thinking about you.

Late nights had long since become a part of her routine, but the pen weighed heavy, like a message for her to wrap up her work before it got too late, and head home into the loving arms of you. So that's what she did. Mel wrapped up the last of her paperwork for the day before leaving, the commute home quiet as she fiddles with the pen, thinking of what you did throughout the day.

She smiled as she thought about how you'd greet her home, wrap your arms around her, kiss her. You'd pull her into the dining room and tell her about your day, chatting over dinner. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice when the carriage pulled up outside her estate.

It wasn't until your head peaked out the door that she was pulled out of her daydream, tucking the pen safely into her purse. She exited the carriage, her tired and weary body carrying her towards you until she was inside, ready to finally relax after a long, hard day.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

SEVIKA

whiskey glasses.

Idiots. She swore everyone she had to work with were idiots and purposely made her work harder to do. Sevika was much too ready to return home, and upon doing so, pulled out the matching whiskey glasses. You entered the room, sitting yourself on to the kitchen counters.

"That bad, huh?" You ask, accepting her offer and taking the whiskey glass. She sighs, shaking her head. She didn't even know where to begin, but she decided on pouring herself a glass was a good start. You listen to her complaints, your finger outlining the simple design on the glass. Yours and Sevika's initials engraved into the glass- a gift from a friend.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink after she finishes telling you about her day, and you decide to bring over the bottle as you sit with her on the couch. "Whatever, I don't want to think about it anymore." She grumbles, taking the bottle and taking a swig from it. She wraps her mechanical arm around you, pulling you in closer to her.

"Tell me about your day instead," She insists, watching the way you try to mimic her in taking a swig of your drink- it goes down less smoothly than Sevika made it out to be. She chuckles at the way you cough a little, and then at the way you throw her a glare. She's quiet though, when you finally tell her about your day. It's these small moments that have her thinking about just how lucky she is.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VIKTOR

keychain.

"Vik, look at this!" You call him over, holding up the matching keychains for him to see. They were in the shape of puzzle pieces, and when they got close, they connected with a magnet. "Aren't these cute?" You hand them over to him and he looks over them inquisitively.

"Very," He says, before looking up at you with a small smile. "Should we get them?" He asks, though he already knew the answer. You try to act nonchalant, shrugging your shoulders and saying if 'he wanted to you two could get'em' but it was obviously all an act.

"I don't think we could leave without them." Viktor chuckles, because if there was anything Viktor loved more than his work it was indulging your whimsy. Thus the keychains were promptly bought and put to use. It was the only "fun" keychain on Viktor's, which only made it all the more special to you.

"Wait, but now we have to separate them," You realize, feeling a little guilty for forcing the two puzzle pieces to be away from each other. Viktor sighs, holding his half of the puzzle piece up for you to connect.

"It matters not the time they spend apart, as they're made for each other, and will inevitably always meet in the end."

Did he not realize he just said the most romantic thing to you? And now he's shocked you're tearing up? smh

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

boxing gloves.

"One, two, one, two," Hitting the striking pads, Vi stood sturdy despite you putting your full force into each hit. Breathless, sweaty, and pretty tired, Vi decides a break is well in order for you both. You thank whatever god took mercy on you and take off your boxing gloves as you search for your water.

"Hey, babe..." Vi is rummaging around in her duffle bag, the crease between her brown deepening as what she searches for continues to evade her. "Did you take my gloves?" You look up at her, before looking down at the gloves. Inside on the label, written in sharpy, is the name 'VI' clearly written.

Sheepishly you hand them back to her, "Sorry, I thought they were mine," You say, now wondering where you last put the matching boxing gloves Vi had gotten you last year. In retrospect, Vi realizes that maybe getting you the exact same pair would inevitably lead to this situation.

"Nah, it's fine. I like when you wear my stuff anyways." She teases, enjoying the way you grow flustered at her words. She always had to say something in order to mess with you, and sadly for you, it always worked.

#arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #arcane imagines #caitlyn x reader #ekko x reader #jayce x reader #jinx x reader #mel x reader #sevika x reader #viktor x reader #vi x reader #x reader #arcane #arcane x you

845 notes · View notes

miirohs · 9 months ago

Text

world burning [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!

“Charlie?”

You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”

“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.”

The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”

“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.

“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”

He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.

“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.

“Char, what are you planning on doing?”

He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.

“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”

You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.

“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”

You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

All you could do was shake your head.

Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.

There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.

“Where is she?”

“Sir-”

“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”

Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.

“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.

The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.

Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.

There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.

Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.

“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.”

You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.

You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.

As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.

“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.

“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”

“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.

“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”

“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.

“Charles, no-”

He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.

“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”

The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.

“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.

“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.

Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.

“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.”

You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.

“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.

There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.

“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.

“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”

“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.

“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.

However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”

2K notes · View notes

spookypete-94 · 8 months ago

Text

Dark Horse- Breath

PriceXFem!reader

Start of a mini series. Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Non-con mentioned but not described. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.

Hard work was never something that had bothered you. Entering the work force at the ripe age of 14, you had learned many things the hard way. Like how what you thought was your "Highschool Sweetheart" was the love of your life.. Until he took advantage of you, in a time where you had too much to drink at a graduation celebration caused by him egging you on. Ultimately, the cost of his choice forcing you to become pregnant. You did not know how ever, that you were carrying his child when you broke it off with him, upset he had pulled such a stunt on you. Again, learning the hard way- you became forever tied to him, but would never settle with him.

Even for such a hardship to happen at a young age, you were blessed with the best gift. A piece of you. The entire pregnancy, you prepared yourself for the baby to come out like your ex. A reminder of what happened to you, but would care for nonetheless. But to your surprise, your baby boy came out with your color hair and orbs that matched your own. Literally the apple from your tree which quickly became the center of your eye.

Naming him Abel, meaning breath. He would be your fresh air. A man you would try to raise better for this world.

Locking the door behind you, you turned down to look at your little one. He was always so bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning, donning his school backpack.

"We got everything?"

"Yup." Abel said popping the p, reaching for your hand to hold it as you walked him to his school. He rather liked school for his age, making friends with ease. Watching as he skipped next to you, and listening to what he thought was going to happen at school today. These moments were what you loved most, feeling truly connected with Abel.

Infront of the school doors, kneeling down to speak with him face to face and fiddle with his jacket.

"Dad will pick you up today." You said smoothing his hair.

"Oh.." Abel said quietly. Abel knew how hard having split custody with his dad was for you. Your ex may be terrible to you, but he was a good father to Abel. Making getting full custody of Abel hard and the fact due to your funds coming from a restaurant. Of course the boy who took advantage of you turned into a man that became successful. Many times he would bait you ,"If you just came back to me." A smug smirk on his face almost telling you he'd knew you would come running back. Instead, you planted firmly, took root and grew. Getting a job at a local restaurant and quickly becoming it's best worker. Making enough to make ends meet, living pay check to pay check but still taking care of your son.

"It'll be alright momma, I'll see you later tonight." His arms coming around his neck and pulling you into him. Nearly teetering on falling over, but instead pulling him into you closer to lean on him. A perfect explanation of your relationship with Abel.

Watching him run into school you waited for him to slip inside, and walked to work. Hoping for a busy day to help with distraction making it go quick until you can see Abel again.

It for sure started off with a bang, like someone had fired a starter gun. Table after table, coffee turning into soda signifying the change from breakfast into lunch. Answering the phone of what you thought was going to be a to go order. was actually a phone call from your son's school. He had forgot his lunch. Thinking about how you had locked the door after asking, but then realizing his lunch box was on the counter still at home. Sighing, feeling further rushed, your boss Kate, could tell something was off and you explained what had happened.

"Well take him lunch," she said matter-of-factly like she couldn't understand why you were so stressed about it. "I got your tables for now." You were quick about it, asking your line cook for a cheeseburger and fry explaining the situation. Thankfully just pulling one he had just started for a customer and giving it you, you rushed out the front door.

Sudden surprise struck you, as you turned the corner and collided with a regular patron with your shoulder.

"Oh!" you said turning to look at the man with gentle blue eyes and brown mutton chops. "Sorry John." He would come in periodically, sometimes almost every day for 2 weeks and then would up and disappear for a month. Figuring it was military related, you always tried to be nice to him as he always left a generous tip.

"Careful love," he grumbled a name he said to you often ,"where you off to?"

"Abel forgot his lunch," you said showing him the bag, before starting to walk again.

"Silly boy," he said watching you walk away, hand resting on the door handle of the building. You grinned before sprinting off again in the direction of his school.

Finding him in the lunch room, you dropped he bag off in front of him.

"Sorry momma," he said at your winded state.

"Its fine, we just gotta clear out your lunchbox when we get home." Kissing the top of his head and quickly ruffling his hair. "Love you, see you later." Waving as you left heading back to work- this time at a stiff walking pace, too winded from running prior.

Back at the restaurant, the lunch rush starting to slow down as you approached Kate behind the counter, tying your apron back on again. "Thank you," you said whispering to her.

"It's fine," with a warm smile, her eyes peering up at you from the counter. "Your regular is still here."

Rolling your eyes, you gave her the same grin you had shown John earlier. "Not my regular. Maybe he is your regular."

"He didn't use to come every day like he does until you started."

"He doesn't come everyday."

"You know what I mean," she chirped back. "And he only ever tips you like that." Shaking your head, you started bussing tables, wiping down, and restocking preparing for the dinner rush.

In the mean time of waiting, you tried to make small talk with John.

"Want cherry pie? Fresh one was made this morning."

"Sure," he said sliding his coffee forward for a refill. Filling it, and turning to the kitchen to grab the slice of pie.

"Cherry pie?? That's your way of flirting?" Kate asked leaning against a kitchen counter, the cook giving a small snort and smile listening to your banter.

"Fuck off, I'm making you profit." causing her to cackle loudly.

Pie on the plate, you slipped through the saloon style doors and back into the dining room.

"Told a funny joke 'aye?" he asked.

Staring blankly, for a second you realized he heard Kate cackling. "Oh! That, no, just bullshitting with Kate."

The feeling of nervousness returning seeing his eyes peer up at you locking with yours before cutting into his pie, watching him poke some into his mouth on his fork. There must be a God however, because a table walking in is what broke your gridlock with him, grabbing your pad and paper. Ready to get back to work.

The entire dinner shift was a blur. John still there at the counter moving to a more private booth with 3 other men. Like he had been waiting for a meeting.

In the mode, your nervousness and anxiety left you, taking the order and trying to offer the best service you can. The mode finally being broke when 2 little arms snuck around your waist and hugged you from behind.

"Momma!" he yelled into the back of your apron. Kneeling down and turning around you hugged him around his shoulders. "Hey love bug."

"I missed you!! but..." and you could tell the next part he did not want to say.

"What's the matter..." You asked lowly and quietly.

"Dad's outside, he wants to talk to you." Your eyes leering up, seeing him outside leaning against his car, arms crossed.

"Ok, go tell Kate to give you some pie." You said ushering her to his direction. Eyes connected with Kate's speaking with a face that told her you were going outside as you untied your apron and placed it back behind the counter. She leaned to the side to see who it was you were meeting and once she did, the eye roll she gave back to you from the burning hatred she has for him.

Taking a deep breath in, closing your eyes to focus.

That's what you told yourself. Breath. Breathe. Abel, breathe for Abel. Little did you know, the booth all the way in the back, 4 pairs of eyes watching you. John's sending a glare in the direction, like he knew what was happening and the distress you were under.

The air outside humid from the impending summer that was approaching. The night sky starting to turn dark and street lights coming on. You refused to acknowledge him, instead standing in front of him with your arms crossed.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Our son told me you forgot to send him with lunch today."

"I did- but then I ran some to him." You said defensively knowing all to well your son did not say it in a manner to throw you under the bus.

"If its that hard for you to make sure he has what he needs, you should come back so I can do that for you both."

"No. You know that's never going to happen." Tone almost feral, tired of being beat with the idea.

"Fine," he huffed out almost nonchalantly, "Then here is this." He said presenting a packet of documents rather aggressively.

Looking on the front page, you saw it was a petition from him filling for full custody. He was trying to take Abel from you.

"Are you fucking kidding me??" Your tone hot.

"Don't think I won't win it. A mother working at a restaurant as her main source of income?? Unable to make sure he has lunch at school. Who knows what else you are failing at," his tone smug like he had full custody already. "Cat in the bag, Abel will be with me. And you can either join, or be miserable. Your choice." He said leaning down over you, laughing at your slack jaw look at him.

"You can't take him from me, I'm his mother."

"I'm his father with a full time job, money saved. I will do as a please. As I always do." He said darkly, hissing into your ear referring what had happened in the past.

Realizing how close he was, the reek of his pride burning your nose and eyes caused you to shove him back from you. He laughed, finding your attempt weak, seeing he got under your skin.

The scene could be seen from inside the restaurant, thankfully it was almost empty, John's table being the last one. Abel had his back turned from it and Kate stood inside distracting him from what was going on outside. Everyone couldn't help but notice John standing up however, long strides in his gait trying to get to you quickly. The other 3 with him standing up and following.

To your ex's mercy, he got into his car, still laughing before the group got outside the doors.

John continued outside, the other 3 standing inside, lax now. Hot tears stung your eyes and you did not want to present yourself to Abel yet.

"Love," John said quietly approaching you.

Turning to look at him over your shoulder, you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to look normal not wanting to bleed on him emotionally, but it didn't work.

"Love, what happened?" he asked approaching finally seeing your state. Unable to answer him, you hand him the packet of papers. Looking down on them he could see the intent behind it.

"I can't afford a lawyer," you choked to him. An arm coming around your shoulders pulling you into him. You never realized he smelled of pine and tobacco until now.

He let you sob into him. Heavy cries you tried to smother into his chest. John took in a large breath before finally uttering, "Marry me."

"What?" you asked thinking you misheard him.

"Marry me," he repeated, firmer this time.

You looked up at him wild look in your eyes. "Marry you??" you repeated.

"I'm British military. My benefits would be your benefits. Meaning you would have a lawyer." Your eyes bounced back and forth between the glaciers above you. Uncertainty filling you... but a spark of hope igniting. Had your conundrum really been solved this easily? You would do anything for your son.

Finally finding your voice, you muttered an "Ok." to him.

Strong arms wrapped back around you, pulling you into his chest and resting his head on top of yours. The shock of everything that had just happened, all you could do was lean into it. Breathing him in. A Breath in, Breath out.

"What jus' happened?" The one with the mohawk asked, leaning over to the one in the blue hat still watching through the windows. The blue hat answered "I think Cap'n is gettin' married."

Dark Horse Masterlist

Captain John Price Masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

491 notes · View notes

carolmunson · 1 year ago

Text

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later.

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #tw: dubcon #tw: dub-con #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

simplygojo · 2 months ago

Text

Trick or Treat

Author’s Note: Hey friends!!! This is the only fluff piece I wrote for the spooky szn...but thats okay!! I love this concept and I love including pokemon in this blurb bc I've resparked my obession as of late...anyways I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS!!

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: mildly suggestive jokes...bc it's gojo...

Spooky Szn Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

You had been dating Gojo for quite some time now, and it was heartwarming to see him step into his role as a father.

Megumi, his precious six-year-old adoptive son, had been bursting with excitement about Halloween for weeks.

After brainstorming costume ideas together, Megumi insisted he wanted to dress as Pikachu, and you both couldn’t resist his adorable enthusiasm.

Gojo and you decided to dress as Pokémon trainers to match him, thrilled to create a fun experience for Megumi and his two best friends, Nobara and Yuji, who would be joining you for the evening.

“Ready, Pikachu?” You called, looking over to your right. Megumi, wearing his Pikachu onesie and a plush tail flopping behind him, nodded vigorously, his excitement barely contained.

“Pika!” He squeaked, bouncing on his feet.

“Let’s go catch ’em all!” Gojo chimed in, his voice laced with that signature playful energy.

He stood tall beside you, dressed similarly in a Pokémon trainer outfit, complete with a red and white cap that made him look both adorable and rugged. His azure eyes sparkled with mischief as he adjusted his jacket, revealing just a hint of his toned arms.

“Are you two ready?” Yuji exclaimed, bouncing on his heels in his Bulbasaur costume, while Nobara, decked out in an Eevee onesie, rolled her eyes playfully.

“I just want candy already,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Aw, but we have to catch our Pokémon first!” Gojo teased, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair, which was a fluffy mess of black locks peeking out from under the yellow hood. “Who knows what rare Pokémon we might find tonight?”

With a bright laugh, you turned the corner, leading the small group down the tree-lined street.

The houses were adorned with glowing jack-o’-lanterns and spooky decorations, creating a festive atmosphere that made the night feel magical.

As you approached the first house, Gojo leaned closer to you, whispering conspiratorially, “You know, I’ve always thought that if I could be any Pokémon, I’d be the one with the best moves.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what would that be?”

With a grin that could only be described as devilish, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “The one that really knows how to please… the ladies.”

You stifled a giggle, aware that Megumi and the others were too busy marvelling at the giant spider decorations to hear.

“That’s enough, Satoru…” You teased through your grin.

He chuckled softly in response, his eyes sparkling as his gaze returned to the kids.

Megumi and Yuji were animatedly discussing the giant decorative spider with Nobara, who was beaming in her cute Eevee outfit.

The sight of them, with their pumpkin shaped candy bags clutched tightly in their little hands and their laughter ringing out, warmed your heart.

Gojo leaned down slightly, his enthusiasm evident as he exclaimed, “Look at them! I can’t believe how cute they are! This is what Halloween is all about!”

His voice was filled with genuine excitement, his typical bravado replaced with a softer, almost fatherly affection as he watched the trio.

As they approached the first house, you could see Megumi leading the charge, his confidence growing with every step.

He was so proud in his Pikachu tail, ready to collect the first of many treats.

You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who smiled back at you, both of you sharing a moment of joy over the happiness of the kids.

“Trick or treat!” They chorused as they reached the door, bags held out expectantly.

The door swung open, and the homeowner beamed at the adorable sight before them.

“Oh wow, what fantastic costumes! Here you go!” They dropped handfuls of candy into the kids’ bags, their smiles wide as they watched the tiny trainers beam with excitement.

Gojo crouched down, letting Megumi and his friends dive into their candy bags. “Alright, who’s ready for a candy taste test? I’ll bet I can guess which ones are the sour ones just by looking at your faces!”

“Not a chance!” Yuji challenged, popping a gummy worm into his mouth and grimacing dramatically.

“Just wait until I catch you in my Poké Ball,” Gojo teased, his tone light and playful. “Then we’ll see who’s really on the menu.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at his audacity. “You’re terrible,” you said, giving him a playful shove.

—

As the night went on, laughter echoed in the crisp air, and the streets filled with excited shouts of “Trick or treat!” Megumi led the charge, his tiny Pikachu tail swaying with every enthusiastic step.

At one particularly decorated house, a creepy sound machine blared to life, and Nobara squealed, jumping closer to Yuji, who laughed and playfully pushed her away.

Gojo, always one to lighten the mood, casually said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary noises… and any wild Pokémon lurking around.”

You watched, heart full, as Gojo interacted with the kids, his teasing demeanour bringing joy to everyone around him.

“Just remember,” he added with a wink, “if any Pokémon try to jump you, I can give you guys one of my Ultra Balls. They’re great for scaring off unwanted attention, but I’m not sure if Pokemon can even use Pokeballs…Y/n definitely knows how to use my balls though!”

“Gojo!” You exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as you realized he was slipping another cheeky joke in that would fly over the kids’ heads.

—

Eventually, as you made your way back home with bags full of treats and memories, Megumi stopped in his tracks and turned back towards you and Gojo, his voice ringing out, “This was the best-est Halloween ever! Thanks, Dad!”

Gojo’s heart swelled at the words, and he knelt down to Megumi's level, beaming with pride.

“You were the cutest Pikachu out there! I’d say you’re a Pokémon master now,” he said, ruffling Megumi’s hair affectionately.

You watched the two of them, your heart melting at the bond they shared.

“You really did amazing tonight, Megumi,” you added, stepping closer and giving him a playful poke in the side. “I think you collected more candy than anyone else!”

“Yeah, obviously!” He exclaimed, puffing out his chest proudly. “And next year, I’m going to dress as Charizard!”

“Charizard, huh? I can’t wait to see that!” Gojo laughed, his voice full of warmth. “But remember, you’ve got to practice your flying moves. I’ll help you!”

Megumi let out a small giggle before running ahead to walk alongside Nobara and Yuji, resuming their discussion on which Pokemon they should dress up as next year.

You and Gojo walked closely together, your fingers brushing against each other, the evening’s warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“So y/n… was that the best-est Halloween ever?” Gojo asked, glancing down at you with a soft smile, his usual cocky demeanour giving way to a moment of genuine sweetness.

“Definitely,” you replied, leaning into him as you both watched the kids chatter excitedly about their favourite candies.

“Though I think you might have enjoyed it a little more than them.”

“Can you blame me? With such cute trainers by my side, how could I resist?” He smirked, leaning in closer, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.

The night glimmered with the promise of many more adventures together, each one more magical than the last.

And as you glanced at Megumi’s smiling face, you knew this was just the beginning of many happy memories.

157 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 1 year ago

Text

BOBPUL ENCOUNTERS A SNOWMAN | KIM MINGYU

“Look at the two of you,” you giggled, as Mingyu picked up your fluff ball dressed in a black puffer jacket, matching with her dad. “You’re adorable,” you cooed, scratching Bobpul behind her ears, as she wiggled impatiently in Mingyu's grip, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“Me or Bobpul?” He questioned, tucking your hair behind your ear, as you leaned closer to the dog. “Both of you. My babies are the cutest,” you scrunched your nose at Bobpul, who looked like she was having the time of her life. Her tail was wagging against Mingyu's arm and you couldn't wait until you let her run in the snow where she would go crazy with happiness.

“I have a feeling she likes you more than me,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her white fur, making Bobpul squirm even more. “You little traitor,” he whispered, before setting her on the ground, and grabbing her leash from the shelf.

Honestly, it was fucking unfair how handsome your boyfriend looked, even with his face mostly covered by his black bucket hat. As much as you loved him dressed up in suits and all of those amazing stage outfits, this version of him had to be your favorite - it wasn’t idol Mingyu who was standing in front of you, but your Gyu, and it made him so much more perfect.

“Stop staring at me,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, fixing Bobpul’s collar.

“I wasn’t looking at you, I was looking at my little princess,” you smiled at your dog, who looked like she didn’t have any other thought than snow snow snow in her head. Mingyu chuckled, knowing you were lying - after all this time together, you were like an open book to him. “Sure, baby.”

Something about this scene was so oddly domestic - you getting ready to go on a walk with your dog, Mingyu and Bobpul wearing matching jackets, you bundled up in one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and his coat that was way too big for you - it all felt like one of Mingyu’s hugs in the morning when neither of you wanted to leave the bed.

“You guys are like my little Christmas miracle, you know?” You smiled, pulling a beanie over your boyfriend’s head.

“Oh, baby,” he pouted, looking at you from where he was kneeling by Bobpul. It was moments like these that reminded you why you endured all the hardships of dating an idol - nothing could beat the tenderness with which Mingyu looked at you.

“I love you. So much,” he said and stood up, pulling you into his arms - into your safe place that felt like a blanket and a cup of tea on a cold winter morning, into the one place you could stay forever in.

“Love you too, Gyu,” you mumbled, placing a kiss on his jaw, as he pressed his lips against your forehead.

Immersed in your own bubble of love, you didn't notice how Bobpul impatiently paced back and forth until she finally decided to make her presence known, letting out a loud woof, woof.

“Yeah, you’re right baby. Let’s go,” you laughed at her, grabbing Mingyu’s hand in yours, just as he managed to sneak in one last kiss on your lips with a loud muah. You snickered, gently smacking him in the ribs with your intertwined hands. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

…

The second you stepped outside, Mingyu pulled out his camera taking a few pictures of you and Bobpul. Of course he did - he was a family man through and through, and he loved taking photos of his family, including you. It always made you blush whenever you visited his mom and dad, and some of your framed photos stood in the living as if you were a part of the Kim family.

“Put that thing away, and let’s make a snowman,” you clapped your mittenclad hands, smiling at Mingyu.

You spent the next few hours building snowman, with occasional breaks for snowball fights and rolling in the snow (Mingyu fell while carrying you and you landed on the ground together), along with Bobpul, who was running happily around you, barking and snorting as the snow got to her to the nose.

“Please, Gyu. Don’t drop it,” you shot your boyfriend a worried look, as he picked up the last part of your snowman - it’s head, because knowing Mingyu, nothing was safe in his hands - especially not a big ball of snow.

Fortunately, he managed to put everything together, and all parts of the snowman were safely in their places. “Too bad we don't have any carrots,” you sighed, looking at what looked more like three snowballs lying on top of each other than a snowman. "It's good that you have a boyfriend like me, then," he laughed and took out a carrot from his pocket, along with some small stones that you could use to make mouths and eyes.

“Oh my God, I have the best boyfriend ever,” you gasped dramatically, cradling his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together. “The most thoughtful, strong, smart, handsome, dashing, adorable, funny-,”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m amazing,” Mingyu rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t annoyed in the slightest.

“Mhm, you are,” you whispered, pulling his head down, and pecking his lips. “Ugh, put on a lip balm or something. Your lips are chapped like they haven’t seen vaseline in a year.”

“You little,” Mingyu bent down and collected snow in his hands, ready to throw it all at you, as if you weren’t already covered by it from head to toe.

Luckily, your little girl came to your aid, without even realizing it. "Bobpul? What happened, why are you barking like that?" Mingyu, surprised, turned to the dog and let out all the snow he was holding in his hands. The momentary worry that something had happened to your dog quickly turned to amusement as you burst out laughing when you saw Bobpul standing in front of your snowman and barking at him like crazy.

Mingyu looked like he was about to cry with laughter, and it made everything so much funnier. “Baby, it’s just a snowman,” you mused, picking up your pup and petting her to calm her down. “Nothing to bark at, hm. You scared me for a second there,” you murmured, bumping your nose with hers.

Focusing on Bobpul, you didn't notice when Mingyu pulled out his camera again, only a quiet click brought your attention back to him. "I had to, you look so cute together," he smiled, his cheeks flushed pink. “My girls,” he said, putting one of his hands on Bobpul’s head and cradling your face with the other.

You wondered if the next time you visited his parents you’d find this photo standing on a shelf in the living room.

because I couldn't find out if bobpul is a boy or a girl, I refer to her/him as a girl

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng

778 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 2 months ago

Text

Wearing their merch (FNAF SB) (part 1/2)

Huuuuuge brain blast while I was writing a fic for sun oooough I am about to get so silly!! Split this into two posts because I don't have the mental strength to make long long posts

Characters: freddy, chica, roxy, monty

Notes: reader is gn, human reader, short post because admin is still not used to writing the glamrocks <3 im more of a DCA writer TToTT

CWs: none

FREDDY

he doesnt let it get to him... or at least he tries not to! but when you clock into your shift ricking lightning earrings hes going to feel a certain way! its almost a prideful feeling!

and they look so nice on you! hes going to let you know that they suit you well!

neither hurt or upset if you only wear them every now and then, its your choice after all!

may get matching earrings! or or or GASP! You give him one of yours and you keep the other! something about it makes him feel soft inside!

CHICA

you cannot tell me that they wouldnt market her bow or leg warmers- or hell even her earrings! but... freddy already for the earring thing... so leg warmers it is!

you clock into work wearing them on a colder day and shes immediately at your side, telling you how stylish you look! you... cant tell if shes being sincere or teasing you... maybe both?

even if they dont fully match with your uniform shes going to be pleased! will think about it for a while... may giggle to herself when shes alone in her room long after youve left to go home

you bought something themed around her and wore it, how can she not?

MONTY

they sell his sunglasses in the shops! so you go ahead and snag yourself a pair to wear during your shift! its... not the best idea to wear shades inside and you kind of look like a douche to some people... but damnit is it not fun!

half hearted vaguely amused snort from his nose when he sees you, tells you you look good in them... but why wear fakes if you can have the real thing?

lets you wear his own shades just to try them... theyre... only slightly more durable and higher quality, but you keep that part to yourself

if youre going to mimic him you better be able to emulate his attitude, this is more of a side headcanon but hes definitely going to try to get you to act tougher if youre a bit softer....

ROXY

a headband with her wolf ears on them! she thinks it looks a little tacky but you get a pass.... for now...! will let you know that there are better options- perhaps a jacket or... oh youre deadset on the headband...

snaps her jaws shut when you tell her you picked the ears specifically because you think theyre cute- you... think her ears are cute by extension, right?

just know her tail is swaying behind her as she tells you that you made a good pick choosing her merch!

....even if she tries to act like its not that big of a deal... i mean dozens of people come in wearing something roxy themed but she tooooooootally doesnt think about it later

#fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf sb x you #security breach x reader #security breach x you #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock chica x reader #monty gator x reader #roxy wolf x reader #roxanne wolf x reader #montgomery gator x reader #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

151 notes · View notes

nanivinsmoke · 3 months ago

Text

❥ Paparazzi

mma!fighter toji x fem!reader

‘ chase you down until you love me ‘

summary ❥ the story of how the paparazzi changed the life of the strongest mma fighter. heavily inspired by lady gaga’s song

warnings: angst, TRIGGERING topics, friends with benefits, unfaithfulness, degradation, deteriorating mental health, nudes, stalking, oral sex, etc.

note: happy PYSKINKTOBER. m.list here

the red button glowed red as the reporter set it on the table, before looking up at the scarred lip man.

“can we have your name please?”

“toji fushiguro, but please call me toji.” the reporter nodded and scribbled in her notebook before continuing with her next question.

“and how do you know know her?” she slid over a picture and he sighed. he looked over every detail of her pretty face. she was so happy then.

“she was one of my biggest fans. she was a reporter and journalist, just like you.” his voice was gruff and his face was plain, but behind those eyes held a story; a painful one.

“you talk about her like she is no longer with us,” the reporter chuckled at her own joke, but there was nothing to joke about. there was a brief silence before she cleared her throat to ask him another question.

“tell me all about her. how you met, her life, don’t spare any details…”

“alright. she was….”

“you’re fucking annoying.” he cursed, peering over his shoulder, watching the girl follow after him—note book in her smaller hands. she rolled her eyes and pushed some of her hair out of her face, still hot on his tail.

“same thing could be said about you, toji. now are you gonna let me ask my questions or are you going to keep dodging me?” she was used to his antics, wasn’t scared of him one bit. he was intimidating inside and outside of the ring, but not to her. she saw right past his demeanor and saw who he really was.

he sighed and grabbed his bottle from his manager and downed the cool liquid, before shoving it back into his hands. “three questions, only. no more. no less.” she smiled and watched as he shooed people out of his locker room, giving them some privacy.

she pressed the button on her tape recorder before beginning with their introductions and then moving onto her first question. “how does it feel it feel to be the undefeated heavyweight champ?”

“great. im untouchable, in and out of the ring.” he was cocky, but he had to be. in this industry, they eat the weak and worship the strong.

“i hear your next fight, you’re fighting your prodigy. think he can beat you?” she slid off her jacket and folded her glasses up, looking at him through her long lashes. “did you not hear me, woman? im untouchable. i trained him, but he can never beat me, no one can.” he responded, sitting down on the bench behind him, pulling the white towel from around his neck.

“last and final question,” she paused, turning off the table recorder and reaching for her matching white buttons to her crisp button up, “when are you going to finally kiss the cute reporter?”

by now, the locker room was cleared out, leaving the two of them alone. he sighed and ran a hand over his face, before standing up; his body towering over her. “didn’t i tell you, i don’t kiss? that’s how people get attached.”

the two had been in a mutual relationship for a while now. a friends with benefits relationship and from the moment it started, he made it very clear that there would be no affection between the two of them—no kissing, no holding hands; just straight fucking.

she understood that and in the beginning, she wasn’t looking for a relationship, but as time moved on; that changed. she wanted him, craved him even. the sex was so good between them too, she wanted more. she just wished he wanted more too.

“right of course….how could i forget?” she moved to re-button her top only to be stopped by his big hands. “take it off. need to see my pretty girls today,” he smirked, alluding to her breasts. it puzzled her, how he can call her body his, but wouldn’t make her his? however, she took it off—along with her black bra—and sat on his lap, watching as he sucked on those pretty lil nipples he loved so much.

“ tojiiii~” she whined as he teased them, swirling them on his tongue and not fully placing the mounds into his mouth. “quit yer’ whining,” he pinched them, making her squeal, until he finally gripped both of her breasts and placed them into his mouth.

he knew how to get her off easily. he knew all of the spots that had her creaming her panties instantly. it was like her body was made just for him.

the more he sucked the more she felt herself get wet and soon she could feel her panties starting to stick to her second set of lips. she rolled her hips over his crotch, feeling his boner rise and poke her core. he groaned when she tugged at his raven colored hair, mouth still attached to her little love buds. “need you so bad. please”

“not till i taste her,” he picked her up and placed on the work bench a few feet away, laying on her back before tugging her pants down, along with her panties. “shit, you’re soaked. so pretty and wet fa me,” he cooed, swiping his thumb over her slit, watching how webs of her essence stuck to him. he did this a few more times, eliciting a series of mewls from her before he finally attached his lips to her needy clit—making her back arch off the leather workbench.

he was like a dog licking up cold water on a hot day, feasting on her clit; slurping and sucking up all her fluids that pooled out of her. he knew exactly how to please her, slipping two fingers inside of her aching hole and curling it upwards—hitting her spot each time.

she was a mess. her sweet, sticky slick slid down from her cunt and onto the black leather underneath her—gushing each time she felt him. her hands were tangled in his hair and she brought her hips up, his nose pressing into her clit as she grinded against his face; speeding up the orgasm she desperately needed.

“gonna cum—oooh shhhitttt,” toji started to spell his name on her clit, sending jolts of electricity up her spine. and once he got to the ' r ’ in fushiguro, she was cumming all over his scarred lips. he wouldn’t let up on her clit either as she came, causing a gush of a water like fluid to splash against his face.

he quickly lapped up every droplet, sucking on her sensitive clit once more, before letting go— a ‘pop’ sound following afterwards. after taking a few minutes to calm down, she sat up on her elbows expecting him to have his dick out, only to be met with him pushing her panties back up her thighs.

“you’re not gonna fuck me?” he shook his head and chuckled, pulling her pants back up as well. “nah, got a press conference in a—“.

he was cut off as the door opened, entering his best friend and his trainer; shiu kong. she immediately sat up and buttoned up her pants, sliding off the piece of equipment—trying to fix herself.

shiu smirked, shooting a nod to his best friend before looking at the flustered woman. “y/n”

“kong,” she responded, clearing her hoarse throat, turning her attention elsewhere; eyes lingering on the puddle she made a few seconds ago. “you know, you were very loud. lucky it was just me out there,” her eyes widened and she tried to hide her face; too embarrassed to be seen. “bye toji! thanks for the interview!”

she ran off, running out of the gym and to her car—driving far away from the establishment.

“looks like you two had quite the relationship.” the reporter spoke, blushing herself, shifting in her seat after hearing the lewd story.

“that’s what you think. there’s more to it.”

—

the chime of her phone put her attention elsewhere. she stppped typing on her laptop and checked her phone; a message from her best friend, utahime, telling her to her asap.

she pressed her contact name and held the phone up to her ear, immediately hearing her voice. “turn on the news right now!”

she raised an eyebrow and stood up and got her tv’s remote, turning it on and turning it to the news. “hello to you too, utahim—WHAT THE FUCK?”

on the screen it was toji and some woman walking out of a restaurant, hand in hand, avoiding the paparazzi the best they could; that is until one of them finally stopped the new couple. “toji we wanna say congratulations on the fight earlier! you did amazing! and who is this lovely lady right next to you?”

“my fiancé,” everything seemed to fade into the background as her mind blurred. she couldn’t believe it. fiancé? ‘but he said—he just—‘ her mind was running rampant, trying to come to terms with what she just watched. utahime’s voice was like white noise in her ears, before the girl started to yell on the phone. “YOU THERE, Y/N?”

“gotta go hime’.” she hung up before she could even respond, eyes glued to the tv, watching as the couple got into the all black jeep; before she turned it off. she quickly grabbed an all black hoodie and a hat, switching into something comfortable; grabbing her car keys and headed out.

she appeared outside of his building in a heartbeat, slamming her car door before jogging into the building. there was no doormen at night so she was able to not be spotted, taking the elevator up to his penthouse suite. she was fuming, pounding on his door, teetering on the edge as each second passed. and when the door opened, she threw a punch to his jaw, causing his head to swivel. “fucking lying asshole!”

she tried to hit him once more, but he caught her fist and put her in a distressed hug, tearing cascading down her smooth face. “you’re a liar! get off of me!” she pushed away, staring at him with nothing but hurt and anger in her gaze.

“it’s not what you think,” he started, trying to keep calm—not wanting to upset her further. “then what is it? hm, toji? you don’t do relationships remember? yet you’re fucking engaged! since when?”

“like i said it’s not what you think. sit down.” he pointed to the couch, but she wasn’t budging. “SIT. DOWN.”

she huffed and sat down on his soft leather couch, watching through her red eyes as he walked over to his mini bar, pouring her a drink before following suit. he explained to her that this was just a publicity stunt. he was being sued by another pro mma fighter and in order to paint a good picture to the media that he��s not some hot head, his manager thought it was good for the world to see that he was a family man.

by now she was on her second glass of wine. her tears were dried up, yet she was still sniffling. her mind still on a hundred, trying to process everything. when she didn’t say anything, toji inched closer to her and cupped her face, his emerald eyes staring into her’s, before he closed them and pressed his scared lips against her plump one’s.

she was in shock. he was kissing her? yet, she quickly followed his movements and enjoyed the kiss. his tongue sweeping into her mouth, dominating her’s with ease, pulling the woman into his lap—big hands all over her ass. and when he pulled away, a string of spit followed, making her whine. “toji~”

“never wanted to hurt you. i hope you believe that. just let this case play out and end, then it will all be over.”

“why did you kiss her?” the reporter asked, only to be met with silence.

“alright then. continue.”

—

as the case against him progressed, so did the portrayal of his healthy relationship with his new fiancée. there was photoshoots, interviews and home visits. none done at his place, always at his fake house.

and she was always there. covering it or writing magazines on it. she hated it, it was like torture. but, she knew this was for the media. she knew how the paparazzi worked and how the world would take things. anything for a good story.

however, she was a little happier. every night she would be at his house. dressing up each time, putting on some sexy lingerie and covering it with a long black trench coat. toji loved it each time. they would fuck until the sun came up and usually he would kick her out, but now he enjoyed having her stay the night.

cuddle up against her underneath his thousand dollar sheets, sun peeking through the curtains—making her skin glisten. he loved watching her sleep. loved the way her nose would scrunch up when the sun hit her eyes and the way those same beautiful eyes would flutter open; greeting him. he would kiss her in the morning and watched her pretty lips curve into a smile. he didn’t want to admit it, but he had it bad for her. he was in love.

and the moment he finally said “i love you,” had her swooning for days. she had got what she finally wanted. him.

that is until the court day came and he delivered her terrible news. “pregnant? she’s having your fucking child?!” she was seething, pushing him further into the bathroom. why was this happening to her again.

“look it wasn’t sup—“

“save it, toji. just save it. i can’t believe it….again? what about me?” she paused and looked at him, waiting for the answer that never came. she chuckled and wiped away her tears, fixing her makeup and her blazer. “whatever. let’s go. your trial is about to start.

—

it looked good for toji. everything the prosecutors tried to throw at him was immediately turned down. he was gaining the jury’s trust, that is until the prosecution pulled out some evidence.

“this relationship he’s trying to paint? it’s a sham. this was found on his phone! i hope your fiancée knows about this, fushiguro.” higaruma, the lawyer for the guy suing toji announced, pushing the button to the projector—showing off a toji’s messages with a woman posing nude. however, it wasn’t just some random lady. it was her, y/n.

she gasped and screamed in horror. her face wasn’t blurred out either, so everyone knew who she was. the flashes of cameras blurred her eyes as she stood up, racing out of the court room; ignoring all media personnel. she ran, ran until her feet started to blister—her heels bullying into her skin. she hailed a cab once she was far away from the courthouse and went straight to her place; where she stayed for months.

her world was crumbling by the second and it was all because of him.

he had won the case, despite her nudes being leaked, however his fans still blamed her for what happened—blamed her for trying to ruin his career; even though she wasn’t suing him. their outrage and her face was plastered all over the media, shaming her, calling her all types of degrading names. she had to quit her job as a reporter and stayed in solitude.

the police came to her house and put her into protective custody, after seeing how many threats she was facing. utahime came and tried to console her but everything was a blur.

she sat in her new apartment, living in a shell of her old self. the bottles of alcohol started to pile up as she drank herself to death. she couldn’t take it, the more hate she received and the more she thought about him—killed her. he never called her since that day, it was like he never loved her.

she was over him, for good. that is until she received a text from an anonymous number. it was an address and a time, telling her to be there. she raised an eyebrow and put on something to keep her incognito, before getting into her truck and going to the address.

she parked across the street, hiding underneath a tree—staring at the big beautiful house. she was wondering what she was doing here or why she was sent here, until she saw him. his raven hair still looked soft as always, hanging in front of his face. his muscles looked even bigger, poking through the black sweater he wore. he looked good. however, she had to stay focused, to see what was going on.

she watched him climb the black steps, knocking on the front door; revealing a woman—and not the one he was engaged to either. ‘what the actual fuck?’ she thought, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out her truck. the slam of her door caught his attention, his eyes widening when he saw her approaching.

she whipped her phone out in a flash, recording as she started yelling at him. “so much for not doing relationships right?! you said you fucking loved me! toji!”

the woman standing at the door came closer to the door, tugging on his sweater, “toji, who is this?”

“the woman who’s life he ruined.” there was silence between them, the crickets chirping filled the void, only their eyes were having a conversation—before she started up again.

“my nudes get leaked and my life gets ruined! but, yours? oh you get to live happily ever after! you got a baby and a side piece? oh oh and you still got a career! well what about me? hm!” she couldn’t cry, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t. he wasn’t worthy of her tears anymore.

“got nothing to say? hm? cat got your tongue, toji?!”

“im sorry.” he huffed out and she laughed, flipping the camera to face her. “oh he’s sorry?! you aren’t, but you will be!” she stopped recording and stormed off his porch, before turning around to face him once more.

“im about to ruin your fucking life!”

“oh so that’s where that infamous video came from.” the reporter rose an eyebrow, swallowing down her warm cup of coffee, staring at the man sitting across from her.

“look, you got five minutes left. you gonna let me finish telling the story or what?” his voice and demeanor were cold, and she held her hands up in defense. “sorry. what happened next?”

—

she sent her video to the media which earned her a new job as a paparazzi. she also made articles and never stopped covering articles about him. each one was there to deface him. she was doing like she said she was, ruining his life. but, she was ruining her own as well.

she was drinking more and taking pills to escape her thoughts, sending her into a downward spiral. she was heavily depressed and on the brink of a mental breakdown, yet she still kept going. she was obsessed with him and she should’ve moved on, but how could she? how could she forget the past? when it hasn’t been a year yet?

the more time that passed, the more she wasn’t herself and when utahime came over and saw her in her wretched state—she did what any best friend would do and got her some help.

she was in a psych facility, being treated for chronic depression and memory loss; due to all the pills and alcohol she was consuming. her body couldn’t handle it. all she could remember was the good ole days she had with toji, before her life was ruined.

as for toji, his life was never the same either. he blamed himself for what happened to her, everyday for the rest of his life. he divorced his current wife and co-parented with his ex fiancée with their child that they shared, retiring as a pro mma fighter—passing the torch to his protege and running his own mma school. he was done with fame, he just wanted to go back to normal.

“alright. interviews over, no more questions.” toji got up from his spot and the reporter got up as well, trying to get him to stay. “where are you going?” the recorder was still on, catching his last words.

“going to see my wife.”

as he entered the psychiatric facility, he pushed his wedding band on and navigated his way towards her room, where he saw her waiting on her twin bed—a book in her hand. his eyes softened, she still looked pretty like always. he stepped in the room and she perked up.

“is this my husband?” she asked, trying to remember and he nodded, sitting down next to her on the bed. he pulled out the photo album and showed her pictures from before; her past life before everything changed.

“yeah baby, I’m here.”

#mma fighter toji #PYSKINKTOBER #mma fighter toji x reader #mma fighter toji x fem reader #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #dilf toji x y/n #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst

236 notes · View notes

melodymunson · 4 months ago

Text

Older rockstar Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x fem reader- heavy metal lovers

Headcanons rockstar older Steddie x younger goth/punk reader. Reader is close to mid-20s and Steve/Eddie is middle-aged in their young 40s. Includes how reader met them through being a peep show performer.

2.6K words

ao3 link

18+ only. Minors will be blocked.

-Steve has a punk band called Hawkins Rebels and plays the bass guitar.

-You first saw Steve and Eddie at a car wash. In your bikini, you washed their tour vehicles for them. When they found out you were a fan, they put you on their guest list for their upcoming show.

-On tour for Steve's birthday, his big 4-0 Eddie suggested they go to a peep show in Los Angeles, California. The tour kicked off on the West Coast, but they were in town for three nights.

-At the peep show of all the ladies Steve and Eddie could get to entertain them it was you.

-Your outfit was all black, latex, and it included gloves, a jacket, and a dress. Underneath you had on lacy black lingerie.

-The whole strip tease made them so aroused and they couldn't hold back their erections or excitement. By the end of the night, you had them wrapped around your finger.

-Even though you had no idea who they were they ended up being big tippers. There was so much about you that turned them on but your eyes especially were your main asset and stood out to them.

-You were their dream girl and they had to have you. They planned to come back another night and make their presence known to you.

-There was no touching during the peep shows unless you were able to have the watchers reveal themselves and they planned that for another time. The aura of mystery would just have to be that way… for now.

-Your dancing was sensational and they agreed the only girl they wanted to see dance was you from now on.

-Corroded Coffin and Hawkins Rebels would tour together and that's how you would formally meet Steve and Eddie.

-At your first show of theirs you would wear all black, leather, spikes, and platform boots.

-Despite playing hard to get when the other fans/groupies of the bands would throw their bras and underwear/thongs onstage or flash them you were different.

-Even though they were now older Steve and Eddie loved to still wear leather and rock out all night long with parties on the tour buses. Usually, they would share one tour bus and invite groupies on.

-Steve gave you your first vip backstage pass and after the show, you met them in the green room.

-Eddie had made sure to have a wide variety of snacks and drinks to choose from. He still loved beer and so did Steve while you opted for a margarita.

-Backstage you had a good time on your first official night with them. They made sure you had all the food and drinks you wanted on them. The cost didn't matter.

-Just having you backstage with them made Steve and Eddie happy enough. You weren't like other fans and they had the utmost respect for you.

-Being backstage you had the best time as they sang a duet together and did some songs acoustic covers and originals and only your very favorite songs.

-Eddie had more tattoos now including a grim reaper on his back, an upside-down cross on his leg, and a Baphomet on the back of his neck.

-Steve even got some tattoos including a skull on his shoulder, a nail bat on his arm, a lion tattoo on his upper thigh, and a King crown on his hip.

-Steve had eyebrow, lip, and nose piercings whereas Eddie had a tongue, dick frenulum piercing, and nipple piercings.

-They knew your name as a peep show dancer and requested you by name on their second visit. This time you were wearing something different. A catsuit complete with ears and tail and a lacy cat mask to match.

-When the time was right and you had put on your dance for them practically naked now they revealed themselves through the glass partition.

-Finding out they were there watching you was a shock but not completely. Steve and Eddie made sure to assure you they had good intentions.

-Still, despite this, you wanted to finish dancing for them and put on a hot show.

-When you got to talking after they explained they had been there before nights earlier but would be in town again soon.

-The best part about being with your rockstar heroes was their sweet demeanor and how they could talk for hours about anything and everything. You were so comfortable around them.

-Even though you had a job as a peep show performer, they offered you the chance to go on tour with them. Of course, you said yes. You ended up being their band photographer and merch girl for a tour.

-Being on their tour bus was so much fun and you had the back bunk with them the best and largest one on the bus. You would be the little spoon in between.

-Rockstar life could be hectic but it could be fun too. You had the best days with them and there was always a fun party to be had after playing the shows.

-You loved to go out to a local place in every city to get something to eat whether it be pizza, burgers, or a native cuisine from whichever place it was with them.

-There was so much to do on days off like go to the beach or shopping and see the local sights. New York was especially fun and California.

-Before you came along they had a wide selection of pornos on the tour bus but with you no they no longer needed them.

-When they did have porn movies on the tour bus Eddie and Steve had DVDs of their favorite stars. Eddies favorites are Joanna Angel, Jessie Lee, Small Hands, Nikki Hearts, and Liz Vicious. Steve's favorites are Riley Reid, Annabelle Peaks, Chloe Cherry, Tori Black, and Jenna Haze.

-Eddie and Steve's music taste is similar and they love metal. Older Eddie loves Metallica still, and bands like Judas Priest, Dio, and Iron Maiden. The newer bands he loves are Lamb Of God, Municipal Waste, Dethklok, and Gojira. Steve loved synth wave and new wave growing up but when he's older partly because of Eddie introducing him to the hard rock/metal world he now loves Linkin Park, Foo Fighters, Green Day, Alice In Chains, Korn, and Radiohead.

-When not touring with Hawkins Rebels, Corroded Coffin mainly tours with other metal and some punk bands names big and small like Slayer, The Misfits, Doyle, Testament, Suicidal Tendencies, Danzig, Children of Bodom, Opeth, and Napalm Death.

-When Steve's band isn't touring with Corroded Coffin they play with bands like Motorhead, Sixx AM, Alice Cooper, Alice In Chains, and Deftones.

-Modern-day rockstar Eddie has comfort shows and movies to watch on tour. Some of his top favorites are That 70s Show, that 90s Show, Trailer Park Boys, Beavis And Butthead, Walking Dead, Criminal Minds, Sons of Anarchy, and Freaks & Geeks. For movies 90s and early 2000s Adam Sandler films, Stephen King adaptations, Evil Dead, Fight Club, and John Wick.

-For Steve on the road he loves Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Breaking Bad, The Last of Us, and Dexter. For movies The Matrix, The Crow, Bill & Ted, Batman, and Deadpool.

-It didn't take long before you were their devoted girlfriend and they were your loyal partners.

-That didn't stop the occasional fun with other people though. You would have your fair share of partners you enjoyed together.

-There would be random hookups but then there were women who were the exceptions. Ones you could have fun with whenever you came to their city/state or nearby state.

-Most often you would have one-night stands with Steve, Eddie, and a girl or guy of your choice.

-Orgies weren't as common but still happen and the women who go to them were all very pleased.

-Once in a blue moon you would have a gang bang with Corroded Coffin and Hawkins Rebels.

-Nothing could compare though to the mind-blowing sex with Eddie and Steve and your threesomes.

-Mostly you would be the center of attention-getting fucked by them and other times you would watch Steve and Eddie get each other off.

-Wanting to do something different at times on tour you would use a glory hole in the bathroom to take turns sucking them off.

-At concerts, you watch the side stage and bring friends/family sometimes.

-Eddie teaches you guitar and Steve bass so you can perform sometimes with them and play a few songs.

-While they are away on tour you face time/skype every chance you get. They love it especially when you put on strip shows for them.

-When you go on cam they love to mutually masturbate with you and talk dirty for hours and hours on end.

-The same thing is true for phone sex. They love to get off just by listening to your voice and edging.

-You send them the sexiest snapshots/polaroids while they are on tour and the best videos getting off. Sometimes just cute or romantic messages and they love it all.

-When Eddie is home from the tour but Steve is touring you and Eddie will send him videos of having sex and even having sex with Eddie dominating you as Steve watches and gets off.

-When Eddie is on tour Steve is with you being the ultimate dom and even giving Eddie commands through the phone or Facetime.

-You make sure to pack your panties (multiple pairs) and some bras for them on tour so they can smell your scent and always have it.

-They even put the lotion you use on their pillow case and have your perfume in bottles so they can smell it and think of you.

-They fly you out to random dates on tour even in other countries. Italy, Sweden, and France are some of the best places to see them.

-Eventually, you get matching tattoos of a black heart and an infinity symbol with flames.

-For a new album cover Corroded Coffin has you and Eddie pose for it scantily clad with guitars.

-With the Hawkins Rebels you do a music video with you and some other girls dressed up like devils.

-You record a special song with Corroded Coffin doing some vocals and moans for a song on the album Eddie wrote about you called 'My Rocker Queen.'

-In the recording studio you are their biggest inspiration and they make sure you always have the best view.

-For a magazine cover you pose with them for a Halloween issue in costumes. Eddie as a vampire, Steve as a werewolf, and you as Elvira.

-At the end of their shows you would throw out black roses to members of the audience.

-Steve would love to ride motorcycles and take you with him with no set destination.

-Eddie loves to watch the sunset with you and play acoustic guitar, especially at the beach. Sometimes Steve would also go and play guitar at the beach with you.

-Steve and Eddie love it when you paint their nails for them. They mainly like black nail polish and dark colors.

-While Eddie wears a lot of leather, especially black leather and ripped jeans, Steve loves traditional denim.

-They usually style their hair or help each other but love your touch and you helping them with hairstyling.

-You get matching tattoos with them of infinity symbols with flame hearts on your inner wrists.

-Eventually, you stop doing peep shows and being a performer and start to work as a photographer and work for a rock/metal magazine.

-You do only fans sometimes and have solo videos, cosplaying ones, and of course ones with your 2 men. Sometimes you will get between 1 and 3 other girls to join and those videos are your fan's favorites.

-When they are gone and you are stuck at home you sometimes get girls to have fun with. As long as you record your encounter they have no problem with it. They love getting off watching it, especially when you live stream it for them.

-Other times when they are gone on tour and you are alone at home you have Billy over and he satisfies your every desire. It was Eddie's idea originally to have you give Billy a chance.

-When they get back from tour you have the hottest foursomes and Billy loves to be watched.

-Billy eventually became the tour bus driver and roadie.

-What happened on the tour bus stayed on the tour bus. Groupies came and went but Steve, Eddie, and you were long-term.

-Sometimes you would invite groupies backstage. It was a nice feeling of power being able to pick them out. They always trusted your judgment and you picked out some of the hottest girls.

-For favorite positions, Eddie loves 69, reverse cowgirl, and doggy style. He can't get enough of playing with toys either like fleshlights, vibrators, butt plugs, and dildos.

-As for Steve he has a huge breeding kink and daddy kink, and his favorite positions include cowgirl, reverse missionary, flat iron, and toys like cock rings, double dildos, and anal beads.

-They love to use a remote-controlled vibrating app on you controlling all the settings and making you beg for it. Also, they use it in sometimes awkward places but they love to tease and please their favorite girl.

-Ropes, floggers, whips, and spreader bars are just some of their favorites to use along with blindfolds for bedroom kink/fun.

-They both love fleshlights and get a custom-molded one of your pussy.

-On their off days of tour they would explore the sites. Their favorite places to visit were Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, the Empire State Building, the Alamo, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Statue of Liberty.

-Overseas and across the pond they have favorite spots as well on tour. The Arche De Triomphe, Trevi Fountain, Eiffel Tower, Devil's Bridge, Swiss Alps, and the Fjords in Norway.

-In the United Kingdom they love the Tower of London, Trafalgar Square, Lochness, and Liverpool.

-You do a bit of urbex exploring with them too. The best places to go explore were abandoned amusement parks including Discovery Island (Disney World urbex park), a Ghost town in the sky, and Jungle Island. In the UK a former Pink Floyd recording studio in England.

-Steve would always be the mother-like figure making sure the best snacks and food were loaded on the bus whereas Eddie would make sure to have the best stash on hand, especially weed.

-After most shows, they would be signing autographs and taking selfies for their fans. They would mainly sign breasts and asses but they loved it.

-For a playgirl issue Eddie graced the cover bearing all with his warlock guitar. He had the hottest pictures and interviews in the magazine even mentioning you as his lover. It was the most bought issue of the magazine.

-Steve had a cover spread for Rolling Stone shirtless and with his bass guitar. The cover story and interview were all about his music of course but also his biggest muse which was you.

-On the bus, they would play games like Dungeons and Dragons, darts, and mini 8-ball pool. When they weren't gaming, watching movies/shows, sleeping, eating, or having sex, they would be practicing songs and writing new stuff.

-Eventually, you get some pets together including a black labrador retriever (a rescue) named Lightning and a Siamese kitten named Silver.

-Touring was fun with them and like a vacation. One place they didn't get to play but loved to visit was Hawaii especially Maui, the Big Island, and Oahu.

-Steve and Eddie were happy you were theirs. One day they decided to make that official and you got hitched at the wedding chapel in Maui on the road to Hana. You married Steve legally but considered Eddie your other husband.

-Your honeymoon was nothing short of amazing and you spent it island hopping. There were so many spectacular sights to see. The beaches were otherworldly and the food especially the fresh seafood and sushi was incomparable to food like it anywhere else.

-Finally one day New York recognized rights for plural/poly couples and you married them again in a ceremony with close friends and family/relatives in attendance.

-You still did fun and kinky things on tour. They made sure you were satisfied in every way possible and you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist:

@userchai @eddiemunsonfuxks @koskeepsake @keeryatmosphere @corneliuswatkins

@mediocredreams @munson-mjstan @sidereustales @hippiegoth97 @eddiemunson-reader-shame

@seatnights @ali-r3n @kelseyaparker19 @mrprettywhenhecries @shichey97

@keikoraven @veemoon @micheledawn1975 @hellv1ra @stolen-in-moonlight

@haceleyes @edsbug @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @loritate7311 @emmypoisonedqueen

@headovaheelsinlove @loserboysandlithium @probablyin-bed @steveslittlesunflower @decodedlvr

@jadeylovesmarvelxo @thepurplelovewitch

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #rockstar steddie #steddie #older steddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington #corroded coffin #stranger things fic #stranger things headcanons

154 notes · View notes

kaiserthread · 11 months ago

Text

cliche!

romance tropes with the blue lock boys! characters: shidou, sae, kaiser content: pro players, gn!reader first installment of my feb. series! i got so many good ideas for other charas this is def getting a part two

SHIDOU RYUUSEI - meet ugly

your morning could not have gone worse, your alarms didn’t go off, you ran out of your favorite body wash halfway through your shower, and the clothes you planned to wear were sitting in your dirty laundry pile. of course the universe heard your pleas and as you’re leaving your favorite cafe you walk right into the broad chest of shidou ryuusei, spilling your large iced coffee all over his expensive looking jacket. you’re absolutely mortified, frantic apologies spilling from your lips as your eyes well up with tears. ryuusei’s kinda pissed that his jacket is wet but that anger quickly gives way to pity when he sees that you’re more of a pathetic wet kitten than human. he interrupts you and says, “hey, no worries! i can get this cleaned later but do you want a new drink?” he feels a rush when you look up at him, pretty eyes swimming with tears. you look up and find yourself staring at PXG’s superstar striker. you nod and he presses a hand to your back as he leads you back into the cafe. you reorder your iced coffee and he adds in a blueberry muffin and complicated blended drink, pushing your hand away when you try to pay and tapping his card against the reader. “you should’ve let me pay, i ruined your jacket.” you whine, trying to dry your eyes and compose yourself. “no offense, but you look awful darling, focus on calming down before you have to clock in.” he teases, pleased with himself when you flush red at the nickname. as disastrous as it was, the interaction leaves you feeling lighter and you leave the cafe with a fresh coffee and a smile on your face. said smile disappears in the middle of your workday when your phone starts blowing up. unfortunately a few paparazzi caught the tail end of your interaction with ryuusei and pictures of you two are going around social media. people are claiming that shidou ryuusei has a secret relationship and this is quickly becoming your worst nightmare. you pull up instagram to find a dm from ryuusei explaining that his pr team is working to take down all the photos and offering protection from his legal team in case anyone tries to dox or harass you over this whole thing. the fiasco blows over but he keeps messaging you (he thinks you’re adorable sue him) and eventually he’s asking to see you when he has days off and asks if you want to date after meeting a few times. you accept and his pr team sighs when he kisses you on the mouth after a match knowing they have some work ahead of them.

ITOSHI SAE - fake dating

sae’s relationship with the media hasn’t improved a bit since he was eighteen and his manager is getting fed up. said manager loses his shit when sae pisses off yet another reporter and offers him an ultimatum, sit out of practice to attend media training or find a way to convince the media that he’s turned himself around. sae would rather die than give up playing soccer so he pitches an idea to his manager: the good ole’ pr relationship. he approves and sae sets out to find his perfect match, eventually having shidou connect him to you, a high fashion model. perfect timing really, you’d just signed with a few brands and your agent had been nagging about marketing and exposure. the two of you strike a deal; he goes to a few of your shows, you come to a few of his games, meet up for dinner once in a while, sae becomes the perfect media darling and you get your name out there. the soft launch is cute, you fly out to one his games and he takes you to dinner, a hint of red hair and two plates in the resulting photodump. he’s spotted at one of your shows and doesn’t give the paparazzi a hard time, showing a ghost of a smile when he greets you after the show. social media is suspicious from the jump and he knows he’s gonna have to work for this one. so he pulls out all the stops for the hard launch, getting you a jersey with his name on it and kissing you after a big win. from there things get progressively more serious and several months later he has a clean sheet with the media and you’ve exploded in popularity. but you had noticed that he’d been acting like a real boyfriend six months in, sending you daily texts and holding your hand where no one can snap a photo of you two. you manage to completely forget about the fact that it’s supposed to be fake until your agent reminds you that the terms of the contract have been fulfilled and that the two of you can break up and move on. so after just under a year you decide to be the one who breaks things off before he can break your heart. you show up to his apartment with a rough draft of a break up speech in your head. he realizes then, watching you hold back tears and stumble over your words, that he can’t lose you. pulls you into his arms before you can finish and whispers, “let’s make this real, angel.”

MICHAEL KAISER - secret relationship

reporters are constantly asking him if he has a special someone and the answer is always the same: he prefers to focus on his career, but then he meets you, the luxury sales associate who sold him a cartier watch. and boy was he enamored, going as far as returning to the store to try on jewelry just to speak with you. you’re lowkey flirting with him but he knows better than to ask someone doing their job for a date so he waits for you to drop a huge hint before asking you out. you tell him when your shift ends and he wastes no time in getting a dinner reservation at his favorite restaurant. he asks you to be his partner after the third date under the condition of keeping everything between the two of you secret and you accept. it’s fun at first, there’s a rush when he smirks at the cameras and denies that he’s in a relationship, knowing that he’s coming home to you. the two of you sneak around like romeo and juliet, secret meetings and walking around with your faces covered when you go to meet each other. but it gets old after a while and you start prodding him about going public, kaiser always asks that the relationship stays private to protect you, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if people started getting nosy and critical with you just because he’s so far into the public eye. you agree because while it’s getting annoying to sneak around, you’d rather keep him private than not have him at all. the last straw is when social media concots a story about him dating some singer he was hanging with and kaiser doesn’t deny it when reporters ask him about it. you’re furious with him because if he can admit to a fake relationship he should be able to admit his real one and you refuse to be his side chick. you break up with him and he's MISERABLE, his performance in matches suffers to the point where he’s benched. so he comes back and grovels at your feet for your forgiveness, you take him back under the condition that the two of you go public. he literally whips his phone out before you finish talking and starts taking pics of you to post because what’s the point of protecting you if you’re not even there?

#bllk headcanons #blue lock manga #bllk fluff #blue lock #shidou ryusei #itoshi sae #michael kaiser #shidou x reader #sae x reader #kaiser x reader #kaiserthread

428 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 1 year ago

Text

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

#centerpieces of the hoard #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #fanfiction #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x male reader #cod x reader #monster 141 au #monster cod au #not betaed #next chapter coming soon

686 notes · View notes