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sundrop-writes · 3 months ago

Text

Need

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)

Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.

Word Count: 3,000

The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?

A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.

...

Need.

That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude.

Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy.

Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ‘relationship’ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as ‘needy’. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack.

It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadn’t lost yet, not once.

Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact.

That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old warden’s office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony.

He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didn’t care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a warden’s desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you.

And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the warden’s desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep ‘in a cage’ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didn’t know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didn’t have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made.

And you were glad that you didn’t have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations.

But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldn’t have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient.

You couldn’t deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadn’t been able to crack him for months.

“Daryl, what’s gotten into-?”

You couldn’t even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle.

You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didn’t hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips.

He was never like this. He was never so desperate.

You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds.

“Daryl!” You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on.

Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy.

Hungry.

That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.

He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill.

Currently, that’s exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it.

It felt utterly amazing.

It felt like where you belonged.

The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs.

He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you.

You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you.

All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy -

Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely.

“Stop squirmin’.” He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver.

You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you.

“Daryl, please-”

“Shut up.”

Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter.

You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again.

He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit.

Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him.

Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didn’t have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you.

Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob.

“Listen, woman.”

He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him.

“This is mine.” He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch.

“Yours.” You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. “Yours, all yours. Daryl-”

Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting.

You weren’t sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane.

Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb.

But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to.

“Daryl! Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m - ah!”

He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste.

You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldn’t contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin.

“Daryl-?”

You didn’t have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper.

Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You weren’t the biggest fan of the ‘bent in half like a pretzel’ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip).

He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to.

And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement.

Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good.

“Dar-”

“All fuckin’ day.” Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you.

He wasn’t quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full.

“All fuckin’ day, I had to listen to Zach’s goddamn yappin’.”

Your brain was slowly coming back into function.

He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha.

You thought Daryl liked Zach?

Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you.

“Had to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckin’ asshole-”

Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground.

“Had to listen to him go on and on about you.”

What?

Then went the other shoe.

Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Daryl’s deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths.

You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you.

“What happened with Zach?” You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused.

You didn’t know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you.

Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs.

“He - would-n’t - shut - the - fuck - up.” Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. “About you.” He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear.

“Daryl-” You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again.

“About your ass-”

He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking.

“About your tits-”

He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon.

“Daryl,”

“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout what you might look like when you cum.” He growled out. “When he ain’t never gonna get to know.”

It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didn’t want to claim you in front of someone publicly.

Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his temper when they had a job to do.

“He wouldn’t stop-”

“Please, I’m yours.” You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention.

As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didn’t even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship.

“Daryl, please. I’m yours.”

“Tha’s right,” Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re mine.”

He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.

#sundrop writes #daryl twd #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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littlestartemis · 2 years ago

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I’m just gonna start talking about SLARPG now. Last time I liked a game enough to actually TALK about it was XC2, so. Bar’s high!

#SLARPG #Super Lesbian Animal RPG #Gotta remember to keep those up front so tumblr actually shows the post in the tags #anyway that wasn't sarcasm XC2 is genuinely good #y'all just need to re-examine how you feel about anime #anyway I'm gonna start talking about lesbian furries now #anything I have to comment on will be tagged 'SLARPG Spoilers'#or at least anything that comes after the demo #arte-missed the point

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bonebrokebuddy · 2 years ago

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(Forgive me firestorm fans if the characterization is incredibly wrong, I don’t know too much lore for firestorm as I’ve not read any of his solos and have only consumed media of him where he was mainly as background character in comics & cartoons.)

Oooo the prof must be absolutely Fascinated with this little guy too!

I’d imagine that Prof Stein would push Robbie to learn more about lil baby man and ask to see if the results could be replicated but.. the only thing coming out is these green floating blobs.

Unfortunately, animal studies isn’t the professor’s specialty nor was it what he studied. So the few papers that come out of Robbie (with Dr. Martin Stein credited too, of course) mainly concern the anatomy of these creatures. Papers are published through Firestorm with credit to the Prof detailing largely the chemical makeup of these being and speculations on the Core’s function, as well as basic observations into the behavior and intelligence of the creatures.

But since the professor can only go so far with ethically stretching his degree in physics, he gets Robbie to link up with some of Dr. Stein’s good friends that are doctors in biochemistry and biology and specialize in animal studies. Getting Firestorm to send the creatures to the various universities where the Prof’s old friends teach in the US for study and to other labs around the world.

Martin Stein hasn’t been this enriched in a good long while, learning about a new field of science he did not frequently discuss or have too much knowledge of outside of discussions with friends over the phone and being able to reconnect with those friends after the accident.

The amount of ethical intelligence studies, anatomy studies on the core, behavioral, and chemical makeup studies that pump out in the following months involving these sentient green blobs baffles the scientific world as paper after paper is published over the following year by scientists and many, many grad students.

Soon, however, the GIW catches on and attempts to delete all trace of these studies showing the chemical makeup, intelligence and clever problem solving of these creatures. Which is highly unfortunate because an extremely large number of grad students now suddenly have their thesis project suddenly retracted by every journal and paper.

Now, there’s a large amount of furious new scientists coming into their field as they no longer can use the project they spent a massive amount of time and effort on to get a job as their employers cannot find it. Many grad students currently working on studies involving the creatures also cannot publish their thesis and have to restart all their research! That’s a big deal!

The elder scientists who worked on studying these creatures are also furious. Not only on the behalf of their grad students but also because of the lack of explanation for the data being restricted.

Due to most of the research involving study in the US, most of the research is suddenly scrubbed from the internet within the US.

But one extremely pissed and determined grad student using a VPN found that if you didn’t use the Universities’s library and searched up the papers from a non-US location, papers published from other countries on the blobs weren’t retracted and were accessible.

I’d imagine that due to the Prof’s physicist research, he’d likely have colleagues he worked with in other countries and had made connections there. Causing studies on the blobs to make it outside the US due to Martin having connections overseas. And all those studying it outside the sudden information blackout were baffled. The censorship and redaction of papers from the US on this new creature that was forming into a massive field of study due to the unique makeup of the blob halted a lot of progress. Grad students in other countries that were basing their papers off of US studies suddenly couldn’t support their hypothesis, and more.

An uproar in the scientific field emerged, papers getting retracted is a big deal. The process of getting a paper published and approved to be published in a journal isn’t anything to sneeze at.

But wasn’t a case of retraction due to unethical practice. This was a case of blatant censorship with no seeming reason and scientists were pissed.

Short DPXDC Prompts #498

Firestorm accidentally creates ectoplasm while practicing his abilities. No one in the League knows what the substance is or its properties. Roughly an hour after the creation of the ectoplasm, the substance expands into a massive portal and a kid in a hazmat suit with glowing green eyes jumps out of it. Oh fuck. Was this primordial ooze? Did Firestorm just create new life? What the Fuck?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #firestorm #ronald raymond #ronnie raymond #martin stein #bones writes #help this got way longer than I thought it would #dissection of blob ghosts is gonna happen from these scientists btw #it’s not a bad thing. in fact it’s actually a good thing!#it’d be the same as a rat study.#i get some folks have gripes with rat studies but uh. sorry dudes. animal studies are actually incredibly essential to science.#like. we have lab grown tissue and shit now but that doesn’t have all the other shit attatched that an animal has #sure we can test if smth will affect that singular type of tissue but what about the literal thousands of types of tissues we got.#sometimes things need to be tested out on a living creature to see how it affects all functions of the body #do you really want humans to be the first line of defense when figuring shit out? nah.#there’s some level of animal experimentation that needs to happen if we want to figure out what makes humans tick without doing potentially #yikesy stuff to actual people. ya know?#oof got off topic and started ranting about rat studies.#but essentially. sometimes experimenting on stuff is necessary and under ethical procedures it’s a good thing.#when we veer into unethical animal studies is where shit gets bad #but don’t turn this prompt into oooo spooky mad scientists doing unethical treatment of blob ghosts #they are headcannoned by a good chunk of the fandom to be the lowest sentient and most expendable ectoplasmic creature the Zone got #they are literally the best possible creature for human scientists to research and dissect.#dissection helps us figure out a Lot about a creature’s inner workings and how they function #i shouldn’t need to point at my collection of old medical texts to show how a poor understanding in human physiology #often comes from a poor understanding in human anatomy. we gotta know how these things work internally if we want to truly understand #how they function. my point is that dissection is actually a good thing in a purely scientific and ethical context. sorry dp folks.#bones writes in the tags

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thisapplepielife · 1 month ago

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Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo.

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two.

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way.

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new.

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding.

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down."

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself.

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur.

He'd like to pet him.

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it.

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes.

They almost glow out here in the moonlight.

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign.

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now?

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled.

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog?

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous."

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight.

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure.

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf.

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal.

"Can I pet you?"

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly.

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair.

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep.

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf.

Hot damn.

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him.

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf.

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion.

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go.

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls.

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes.

And then it looks sad. Goddammit.

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him?

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time.

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur.

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further.

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer.

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is.

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake.

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees.

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?"

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong.

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive."

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub.

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1."

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster.

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused.

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket.

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure.

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you."

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg.

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen.

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him.

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows.

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson."

"All the lap sitting says otherwise."

"I've never sat on your lap!"

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information."

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key.

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him.

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down.

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet."

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt.

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry."

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient.

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious.

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow.

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead.

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed.

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes.

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all.

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was.

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves."

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods.

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest.

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf.

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines.

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises.

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie.

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?"

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this.

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would.

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out.

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm.

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions.

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future.

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next.

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position.

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life.

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

#steddiespooktober #prompt: werewolf #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: spooktober

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dinogoofymutated · 6 months ago

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SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader - Part 1 - part 2 - Part 3

kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!! Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!

Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.

You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.

The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.

The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.

You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place.

“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore.

The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings.

On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats.

He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.

You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.

That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands.

It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own.

Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.

You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.

“Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.

“Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.

“I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.

“You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.

“I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables.

“Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.

“Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.

“Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.

“I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.

The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.

“I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.

“I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.

“Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.

“Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.

Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.

A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.

Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster.

Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.

I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you.

“I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.

Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.

“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.

I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.

“You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.

The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.

I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.

“I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.

I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.

“I really don't think-”

“Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.

“Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.

“I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.

“You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.

He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism.

“Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.

“How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.

“So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.

“And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles.

“...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.

“It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.

I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.

“I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”

“I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.

“I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.

“Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.

“You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.

“I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.

You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.

#x men #x men 97 #x men comics #x men x reader #x men 97 x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler xmen #xmen nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #marvel x men #marvel x reader #marvel reader insert

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, injury, brief hospital visit, smut, oral (f. Receiving), smut, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, knotting, biting

Length: ~5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Boo.

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook.

He's a good looking guy, above average in almost everything he does, and easy to like. Conversations flow easily around him and friendships blossom left and right- almost everyone knows and likes him. It's hard not to, really; as an Omega, he's naturally passionate and caring, a gentle guy that enjoys making others happy.

You met him at a friend's birthday party, the young wf having noticed you standing mostly all by yourself without really conversing with anyone. He'd been kind enough to introduce himself, stay with you, and keep you there for much longer than you usually stay at gatherings like these.

And right now, he's standing in front of you, smile still on his lips and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets while he sways front and back on his heels after having told you he's interested in you.

Romantically.

"There's a.. You said you collect those stuffed animals, squishmallows, right? There's a new store that sells the really huge ones. We could stop by that store tomorrow, if you'd like." he offers, curious eyes watching you with a glimmer that's just.. Jungkook.

Jungkook is new. Different. He's nothing you'd expect, always doing something you'd never be able to guess- and ut makes spending time with him hoth exciting and a little stressful at times.

His eyes always seem to sparkle when he smiles. It's honestly unfair, how they always put you under their spell with their boba-pearl charm. How can you say no?

How can anyone ever tell him no?

"I.. Okay wait. You.. And me?" you wonder, and he nods, smile turning into a grin that makes his lower eyelids raise. "But I'm not, uh… Are you sure?" you wonder, and he becomes surprised at that it seems.

"I am. I wouldn't have asked you out like this if I wasn't." he says, still swaying a little.

He's always been like this. Never staying still. Always up to something. Constantly moving. Like his body is constantly generating excess energy he can't seem to burn. Like the energizer bunny.

"what makes you think I'm joking?" he asks, and you look down, rather watching the tips of his shoes than his gaze any longer.

You can't stand his gaze. You're gonna melt into a puddle if you look at him any longer.

"I'm just.. Me. And you're you. Shouldn't you want someone more.. Opposite of you, rather than the same?" you ask carefully and it seems that it clicks for him in that moment.

It's technically common sense- alphas get with omegas, omegas with alphas. That's how it goes- or so one might think.

But Jungkook isn't any wolf. He's not ordinary in anything he does- so it's unsurprising that his sub-gender also isn't what one might expect.

"Ah~." he hums mostly to himself, before shaking his hair out of his eyes after the wind had blown it over his face, fingers pulling the strands from his piercings decorating his bottom lip. "Stereotypes. You're talking about me being an omega and all that, right?" he wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." you instinctively say. The regret of your words already starting to make you uneasy. Did you insult him now?

Male omegas tend to be very sensitive when it comes to this. Or maybe that's Stereotypes too?

"No problem, lots of people think that way." he shakes it off, taking a step towards you. "But, rather than explaining to you what is and isn't true about the stuff people say-" he starts, feigning innocence before he grins at you, holding your hands in his now, playfully, just by the tips of your fingers. "-how about I show you?" he asks, and you look back at him.

"huh?" you can only answer, and he sways again, tilting his head to the side a little, swinging your hands a bit.

"Go out with me." he bluntly suggests, grinning brightly. "And I'll show you."

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Wolf's sub-genders have been the topic of Novels and movies for a long time now.

The most popular trope being the alpha that falls in love with their omega, to live happily ever after. Some of your own favourite media actually includes this stereotype as well- and for a long time, in your head and in many others, this was the most ideal couple amongst wolves.

However, reality is more complex than that, and you're roughly reminded of that with the way Jungkook behaves.

While he does offer a lot of the general traits associated with being an omega, such as his big round eyes and constant need for physical contact, he also doesn't fit others at all. He's muscly, masculine body dressed comfortably in clothes made of soft materials, and his behavior, while gentle and soft in the way he acts, feels oddly confident and almost dominant to you.

He's sure in his walk. He knows his worth.

There's a hand on your back leading you without any force through the store, like a remote control, no need for actual strength.

There's that glimmer in his eyes every time you struggle and ask him for help with something, as if he's amused by the fact that he makes you nervous.

There's that look of victory in his face whenever you seem flustered by any of his words, Luke it's a game he keeps winning.

He's making your head spin.

You're both sitting on a blanket in a calm park- when he lays down, patting the spot next to you in an inviting manner. "Come here." he smiles, and you do so- easily cuddling up to him, surprising yourself even, considering you're not one that's this easy with physical contact like that. But Jungkook? He runs the inside of his wrist over your neck, bashful smile on his lips as he watches you, caring nature of his sub-gender showing in his actions.

"What're you doing?" you wonder, and he grins sheepishly, caught red handed.

"Scenting you." he says. "I- we technically do it differently as wolves but, I don't wanna seem pushy." he admits, and you nod. You know how it usually goes.

You remember your last alpha doing it, licking your neck instead, or biting. It made you anxious. Every bite could've been made to last, after all.

"…Thank you." you tell him due to that, the way he makes sure he's never too forceful making you feel at ease- and slightly guilty. "And sorry." You apologize because of this.

"for what?" Jungkook wonders. "I had a nice day, even better than I could've imagined. I'm feeling really happy right now." the young man explains, and it makes you a little jealous how easy it seems for him to voice out his emotions.

You're not that good at it. Maybe he can teach you?

"For judging." you explain, but he just scrunches up his nose before softly flicking a finger under your chin, teasing you.

"Don't worry. It's normal." he shrugs, before rolling onto his back, your head on his tattooed arm as you watch the clouds as well next to him. "Do you think.. We could try?" he wonders, and after a moment of thinking, you nod.

You know what he means by that. And you want to try as well.

And he swears, if he had a tail, it would be wagging like an excited puppy.

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Your first kiss happens rather Spontaneously.

It's unprepared, a little clumsy, happening in the kitchen after you'd placed a small bandaid over the cut Jungkook had accidentally given himself while helping you cook. Seeing you tend to such a minor wound so carefully just set something off inside him- and he couldn't help himself.

And after the initial shock of it all, kisses seem to be a constant around Jungkook.

As soon as you meet up, there's a quick peck as a greeting, lips barely properly touching, but enough to make the gesture of affection count.

Small kisses on your cheek whenever he's close enough, just to see you turn red, shyness of you just too precious to look away from.

And most importantly? The way he scents you changed.

While pretty tame at first, the entire act of scenting you has become somewhat heated these days- just like now, as he runs his lips over the crook of your neck, back and forth, hands almost sensually running over your body, clothes suddenly feeling itchy.

He never crosses boundaries, never bites where you don't want to, never pushes himself past your limits just because it's easy to do. He's gentle, caring, offers you just what you need in the right amount, easing you into the waters that's his love.

And it makes you brave. It makes you want more.

Your own limbs seem to want him closer as well, your mind slowly becoming more and more trusting towards him, as he builds up the affection every time you spend time with one another.

It started just with cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. Then, the kisses got added to the mix- shy at first, his confidence with you slowly building up towards the point of where you are today; Heated, bodies warm and needy as his hand travels underneath your soft fleece shirt, fingertips carefully meeting the underline of your chest. "Still okay?" He asks, lowly so as if worried he might pop the little bubble you're both in and wake you up from the trance of emotions, but you simply nod, smiling, happy.

And as an omega, he feeds off of your emotions; he thrives in the fact that you're giving yourself into his arms so freely and comfortable, no worries in your scent whatsoever in his presence.

He shamelessly purrs at the way you kiss his collarbone, lips pressing over a tiny little beauty mark he has in that area, making him shiver in pleasure. You've not talked about going all the way yet- and right now, he's not trying to get into your pants at all. You're so attentive to him, offering such kind affection, that its enough for now. He can't deny however that your scent is driving him crazy- making him hungry for even more intimacy than he's receiving already.

He's needy. Craving.

"Can I eat you out?" He asks breathlessly so, and your eyes widen before your cheeks grow a bit red. "You don't have to say yes." He adds at the sight of your shyness, but you just shrug in response.

"I don't know what it feels like.." You start, before you look up at him, and he feels himself feeling upset. How come you've never experienced that? You're so sweet, you should've been able to explore your most carnal desires with someone you trust. "..but I trust you." You say, and his body erupts into happiness.

You trust him.

It washes over him like the hot stream of water in the shower after a long day, making him nod eagerly as he kisses you first and foremost. Jungkook is pretty orally focused, you've noticed; playfully nipping your skin here and there, kissing you randomly, or just running his sensitive lips over the soft skin of the back of your hand, feeling your skin with his mouth and hot breath. So it's not a surprise when he doesn't mind kissing you a bit more chaotically, open mouthed and tongue exploring your mouth with confidence.

He loves you, after all- and he can see, feel, that you're falling for him too.

He makes it all feel so natural that you can't help but giggle at the feeling of his kisses down your bare stomach; dress pushed up by his hands, a grin showing when he notices your reaction to his antics. He feels as if he's high- never having had the opportunity to be in a situation as easy and simple as this; both of you just existing, no words needing to be shared, no roles defined, no goal in mind other than making the other just as happy as yourself.

It's an odd feeling at first, but simply the sight of him so immersed in the act makes it feel ten times more erotic to you than you thought it might. Your breathing is deep, occasional sighs escaping you, soft voice chanting out his name like a mantra to keep you sane; and he starts to feel drunk off of it, teasing licks turning into more determined motions, tongue flat on your most sensitive area, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. All that fills your head is simply your approaching high, not in the slightest feeling like anything you could've done to yourself.

How will it be when you're both in heat?

You've known each other for months now, after all. Your cycle has synced up by now, you've noticed last time he'd taken time away to himself.

Your back arches as you roll your hips closer to him, lost in the ecstasy while his hands hold a firm grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, before he let's go of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to lay down next to you with an impish smile on his red lips. "Hey." He jokingly greets you after you've opened your eyes again, noticing how he's moved your dress back down again as to not have you get cold.

Jungkook lays there with a smile, and you feel funny in his presence like this. You've never had anybody talk to you or treat you like he does ever before- you're used to either being told exactly what to do, or to be scolded for what you're doing or have done- so him talking to you like you're something special makes you a little confused on how to act.

And it makes you scared, because up until now, you've ruined everything good.

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"So have you, you know? Repaid the favor?" Jimin asks, eating his sandwich in front of you while you suddenly turn pale. "Oh." He just humms, while you let your face fall into your hands.

"Oh god, I'm such a nasty bitch, really.." You groan, eyes stinging already at the thought of Jungkook having expected you to get him off as well, just to get nothing in return but a stupid cuddle. The shame washes over you like waves on a stormy day, clashing against your bones with anger that swells up in your chest. You're upset at yourself now, appetite having vanished, and now you're even madder at yourself because Jimin had literally paid for that little piece of cake you'd chosen to eat here, and now you can't even enjoy it anymore.

Hormones are a gorrible thing, especially for omegas. And the stress you have these days just really fucked you over, causing you to drop into a new mental low.

"Hey, no-" Jimin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before a hand reaches out to touch your arm. "-I'm sure he would've said something if he'd expected anything." He says, making you look at him with glossy eyes.

"Great, so you're saying he doesn't want me like that, thanks." You say roughly, and Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Oh god I'm sorry, now I'm all moody and-"

"Everything alright?" Jungkook's voice rings out next to you, as he stands close to your chair now, having spotted you in the small cafe with Jimin while passing by on his way home from work. "Hey, what happened?" He coos worriedly, bending down a little to get a better look at you who's hiding your face in your hands, humiliated about crying in a public setting like this, while Jungkook tries to assess the problem- your scent making him anxious too, but in a different way.

You're his partner. And his instincts tell him to offer you comfort, make you feel better.

You've always been overly emotional like this, but its worse now than ever. Jimin said that it's probably from being raised so roughly by your more than strict parents- after all, he remembers the times he had to make up stories just so you would be allowed to stay over at his family home, or for you to attend school trips. He's put himself into the line of fire constantly just to hang out as a friend with you- your mother hating him growing up for being a 'bad influence', and your father even threatening him with violence after Jimin had cut your hair for you, having grown tired of you being unable to express yourself even in the slightest at the age of 15. You remember how Jimin had grinned to you the next day, after everyone at school genuinely complimented you for your new appearance.

However, years after and now both of you working adults, you still have the habit of breaking down crying at the sight of the slightest thing going south in your life. But Jimin simply smiles watching Jungkook squatting next to your seat, carefully wiping your cheeks and eyes concentrated as he listens in on your hiccups interrupting your words to him, none of it very coherent.

But he manages to understand.

"Baby, it's totally fine, I don't hate you." He chuckles, pulling a chair from an empty table close by to sit next to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you both, by the way." Jungkook laughs, reaching out to shake Jimin's hand. "Jungkook, nice to meet you."

"Jimin. She's been talking non-stop about you." He teases, making you pout while drying your eyes with a napkin, earning a snort from Jungkook who just can't help but find your glare cute.

At the end of the day, you're happy to see your best friend and boyfriend get along so well- both making sure you know you didn't do anything wrong- and that it's totally fine to cry.

Jimin making sure to underline that no one even noticed at all.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her at all." Jungkook says, and it's all a face-off you never hoped you'd have to witness.

Your father had arrived unannounced to apparently bring something over your mother had sent- but you know he just does it to tell you how 'messy' your apartment is, and how you don't have your life under control. You don't know why exactly he does it- any parent would be happy to see their child earn a living from a job they genuinely enjoy; your art selling for high prices, well known celebrities decorating their homes with your works. Jimin had always said that your father is simply jealous- but you can't help but feel small under your parent's strong gaze and harsh words, Alpha father too intimidating to resist bowing to.

And now? Right now your father had told Jungkook to leave, and to yours (and probably your father's too) surprise, Jungkook had declined.

An omega, refusing an alpha's command.

"I'm sorry too, dog, but It's not up to you to decide that." Your father responds, and you worriedly look between the two men, when Jungkook speaks up yet again.

"You're right, it's up to her." Jungkook says. "It's her apartment after all." He says, turning a bit to look at you. You quietly nod, giving him the sign that yes, you want this man out, but you can't bring yourself to say it. It makes Jungkook feel protective of you in this situation, no mate able to stay calm at the prospect of their partner feeling in danger of anything in their presence. "Please leave, or I will call police." Jungkook says, and your father scoffs.

"I'll give you a nice black eye before they get here then, how about it?" He threatens, and while you step in front of Jungkook in a moment of thoughtlessness and reckless protection, you end up receiving the punch right into the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.

"No!" Jungkook barks out, rushing down to your level to check up on you- before spotting your father looking down at the scene with horror.

"I didn't mean to-" He almost whispers, before he takes a shuddering breath, leaving the apartment and you two alone.

You feel dizzy, headache already starting while your hearing sounds like cotton wool had been stuffed into it. It's distant, almost non-existent, and you can only hear Jungkook with your unaffected side. "What's wrong, baby, talk to me.!" he urges, and you sit up a bit straighter, noticing an odd feeling in your ear that makes you run your finger over the opening of your ear canal. When you move it away to reveal red spots of blood, the omega wolf immediately rushes to get his car keys, rushing to the emergency room with you next to him.

An overnight stay, and thorough examination later, you're free to go again, Jungkook making sure to cover all the formalities for your release, while you wait in your room.

"I can't believe he fucking punched you. Oh my baby peanut.." Jimin jokes dramatically, though you know there's genuine anger directed at your father in his words. He's currently keeping you company, his job as a nurse coming in quite handy in times like this, before the door opens to reveal a smiling Jungkook.

"Alright, I've been given your antibiotics and papers, so we're good to go now." He informs you, making you nod, albeit a bit hesitant after being told not to move your head too violently.

"You're lucky there wasn't anything more serious." Jimin sighs.

"Her hearing will be back soon right?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods.

"A month or two, typically. The bruising will be down even quicker I imagine."

And Jungkook nods, keeping in mind to never let you get hurt again.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

True to his words, a few months later, there's no trace of your past injury any longer.

Now on a spontaneous camping trip Jungkook had surprised you with to help you get over your artists-block and give you some inspiration, you're both entangled inside the van he had rented out, the rain pattering harshly onto the roof of it. You're both unconcerned with the little thunderstorm outside however, rather occupied with each other as he finally uncovers all of your body for himself.

You'd thought it would all feel much weirder than it actually does, but it's Jungkook- every move he makes feels natural at his point, even if the territory you're both walking on right now is absolutely new to you.

The condom over his length makes it a bit easier for him to push himself inside you, your warmth welcoming him eagerly and making him struggle to compose himself. You're just so pretty in the dim orange light that shines inside the van from the front that he can't help himself, his instincts to breed you full of his cum pushing itself into the front of his mind. You'd look so good covered in his release- and you'd smell even better, he knows it already.

Maybe next time. Or next round? How long can you take it?

Right now he's gasping for air, your little whimpers making him feel more sensitive than he's ever felt before. Not even his own heat compares to this burning need he feels growing inside him, your hips rolling up into him, and he's a goner. A growl leaves his throat before he bites around your neck, movements becoming more frantic now in the heat of the moment, needing to claim you as his. "I love you." He hums into your neck, and you respond with your own confession, before his hand angles your leg a little better, his thrusts a lot more desperate at this point. The van is probably visibly shaking from the outside, force of his hips hard enough to fill the small interior of the sleeping area with the wet sound of skin against skin, and your sensual breaths.

You're whining for more, but for what exactly you're not sure of. But again, as if he can read your mind, he knows- hand reaching between you both to press and roll your clit between his fingers, making your core clench and thighs shake with your sudden orgasm, his hips never ceasing to move as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kiss him feverishly.

It gives him the final push to cum as well- though he's a bit disappointed it has to be inside the condom, and not you.

But, Again; maybe next time.

You're overly sensitive, noticing something odd happening, but he reassures you with licks and kisses to the bruised spot he'd bitten over and over on your neck while his arms hold you close. "Did you forget yet baby?" He chuckles amused, making you a bit shy considering the position you're now in.

Completely connected, his knot keeping him inside you at all costs.

"Kook?" You wonder when you notice the muscles in his thighs still trembling occasionally, hips pushing as close as he can get, breaths studdering, gasping. He's moaning quietly every time you involuntarily clench around his length still inside or move too much, and it's in that moment that you realize he's probably still in the midst of his orgasm.

Talk about drawn out.

It doesn't take long for him however to notice your rather impish acts, the way you seem to be very aware and in control of your actions- and much to your surprise, the moment he's able to slip out and discard the filled condom, he's back between your legs, thrown over his shoulders with a grin on his lips that spells trouble in bold.

"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?"

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

"I'm a little worried though." Jimin says, sighing next to you while you reach into the bag of chips he's holding, TV show playing on the screen while you both spend a day together alone. "Yoongi is an alpha- what if I get on his nerves or something? Alphas are said to be quite moody.." He mumbles.

You giggle, adjusting the strap of your tank top that rests right over the permanent scar of Jungkook's forever bite.

"Don't worry Jiminie." You simply reassure him.

"That's all just stereotypes."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #werewolf jungkook

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seulszn · 9 months ago

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Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

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peachsukii · 9 months ago

Text

Burn Out

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | engaged | aged to 23 | bakugo POV! ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

summary: Japan’s #4 Hero, Dynamight, is holding (forced by his agency) a meet and greet with fans - for the fifth time this year - by popular demand. The only difference? It’s three hours longer than the previous four. tags & warnings: fluff, soft bakugo, pro-hero bakugo, reader has a quirk & is also a pro hero, reader & bakugo are engaged! a/n: i thought the idea of reader waiting in line every time he has a meet and greet was such a cute gesture and relaxes him when he’s overwhelmed by fans :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,300 ꒱

“I really gotta do this shit for 4 hours?!”

“Sorry, Dynamight. It’s standard hours for meet and greets, plus you get the exposure to retain popularity amongst the public.”

God, what a fuckin’ joke.

How the hell does Deku do this all the time? I’m not a people person, end of story. I’ll sign shit and let them sell it, but actually meeting people? My goddamn nightmare. Especially the damn fan girls, they’re rabid fuckin’ animals. I hate when people only see me a piece of goddamn meat and not a top rated hero.

“Why are you still here?” This agency lady is really pissin’ me off. What the hell else does she want from me?

“Just going over the logistics. You’ll be hosting at a store in Shibuya Crossing from 1PM to 5PM tomorrow. You’ll be doing signatures on pre-approved official photos. We’ll meet at the agency at noon and you’ll get suited up.”

I hate these stupid publicity pricks.

“Can’t I just sign ‘em and you sell ‘em? I really gotta do it in person?”

“No can do, you know the process by now. The hours are just extended to allow as many fans access as we can.”

Why the fuck do fans need “access” to me? They don’t. I’ve got better shit to do.

“Whatever. See ya tomorrow.”

───

It’s almost 1PM and I’m already fuckin’ over being here. Nonstop “do this, not that,” “don’t take too long,” “don’t accept large gifts,” blah blah blah. It’s a damn signing, not a conference, I shouldn’t need to follow some stupid rule book.

“Before settling in for a grueling four goddamn hours, I gotta call my fiancé.”

“Make it fast, you’re set to start in 15.”

Was it an excuse to talk to her? Hell yeah it was. I didn’t need to call her for shit, I needed to get the hell away from that agency lady before I said shit I can’t take back.

Really wish she could sit here with me instead of with the agent with stick up her ass.

───

[y/n] Hey babe, what’s up? I thought your meet and greet was happening now? [Bakugo] Yeah, in 15 minutes. I needed to step out before I sit here for four fuckin’ hours. What are you up to? Sounds like you’re outside or somethin’. [y/n] Nothing really, grocery shopping and boring stuff. Are you nervous? [Bakugo] Me, nervous? Fuck no. I just don’t wanna be here for that long. It’s exhausting. [y/n] I don’t blame you, the last few were much shorter. Do you need me to bring you anything? [Bakugo] Even if you did, I don’t think they’d let me take it from ya. [y/n] That’s so annoying. It’s not like I’m a stranger. [Bakugo] Y’would think so. Fu-dammit, sorry baby, but I gotta cut ya short. This agency bitch has been breathin’ down my neck all week. [y/n] It’s alright. Make sure those fan girls don’t take all of you, I still want my share of the number 4 hero! [Bakugo] Hah, y’know you’re the only one who gets that. I’ll talk to you later baby, love you. [y/n] Love you too, good luck!

───

I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired.

If I hear another person screech over me just looking at them? I’m gonna lose my damn mind - and it’s only 2:30PM.

“Dynamight! You’re my favorite hero, thank you for signing this!”

At least most of the kids that showed up weren’t loud and annoyin’ brats.

“Thanks, appreciate th’ support.”

I’ve signed my name so many damn times that it’s starting to look like gibberish. They wouldn’t even let me use a stamp or some shit like that. Y’think that would appeal to their “access” plan if more people could come and go if it meant signing this shit faster.

───

3:45PM.

Fifteen. More. Minutes.

Exhausted is a goddamn understatement. I don’t wanna talk to anyone for the next 24 hours when this is over.

I’m grabbing the next poster from the agent, tunnel visioned on gettin’ the fuck outta here, when a familiar voice catches my attention.

“Hiya Dynamight!”

I can’t help but laugh. Did she really stand in line this whole time?

“The hell you doin’ here?”

She’s dressed head to toe in my merch - sweatshirt from the winter line, joggers from the athletic set, even her damn shoes are the limited release sneakers from the crossover line with Deku.

“Just supporting my favorite hero. I’d love if you could personalize my poster.”

God, I love this woman.

“Hah, y’got it.”

To my favorite hero, y/h/n, my shining star - love, dynamight

I slide it over the table to her and the look on her face is priceless. Her smile never fails to brighten my day, no matter how shitty it is. Really feels like no one else is here but her in the moment.

“This’ll be worth at least $50 online. Thanks!”

“Hey! That’s special, idiot.”

“I’m kidding, Ka-Dynamight.”

“Did ya wait in line this whole time?”

“I did! I wasn’t shopping earlier, I was in line for you. I wanted to support my soon-to-be husband.”

The high school girl behind her makes a face when she says “husband.” It’s not like our engagement is a damn secret. Can’t help but shoot her a dirty look, hoping she gets the “fuck off” memo.

“Dynamight, 5 minutes until we wrap.”

“Back off! It’s my damn fiancé. I’ll take as long as I want.”

All I wanna do is jump over this table, throw her over my shoulder and blast our way home. Dive onto the couch, crammed together against the cushions and pass the fuck out to the sound of TV static.

“It’s okay, I’ll let you go.”

She leans over the table to whisper, “I’ll see you at home, baby. Love you!”

I don’t really care who hears. I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ whisper to my soon-to-be wife in public.

“Love you too. Thanks, sweets. You’re the best.”

Fuck, her ass looks damn good in those joggers. I’ll never get tired of watching her walk away. The way she sways her hips when she walks is dangerous game for me.

“Alright, Dynamight. Last one.”

Thank fucking god.

“Hey, thanks for-”

“Was that your fiancé?”

These damn high school girls are such a pain in the ass.

“…yes. What of it?”

“Isn’t she, like, number 42 or something super low ranked?”

Not fallin’ for whatever shit she’s trying to pull. I sign the poster and slide it over to her, hoping she shuts the hell up and leaves.

“What, I can’t get a personalized photo like her?”

Well, she asked for it.

“Fine, give it back.”

number 42 and still better than you. fuck you - dynamight

I shove the poster back to her roughly on purpose, crinkling the edge against her stupid long claws-for-nails that were tapping impatiently on the table.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Learn some damn manners.”

I don't feel any remorse as the stupid agent starts scolding me for "mistreating fans." The brat had it comin', what can I say?

"I'm outta here. Later."

"Wait, Dynamight, you need to -"

"No, I don't. Not my problem. I'm done."

───

Finally, home sweet home. "Hey baby, I'm home."

"Hey Kats! Made you some early dinner on the stove and the blanket is nice and toasty for you."

When did she even have time to do that? It's only been 45 minutes.

"Damn, what are ya, superwoman?"

"Hah, I wish. Have you checked your phone yet?"

"...No, why?"

She laughs. "#dynamight is trending again. Somethin' about you signing 'fuck off' on a fan's poster?"

Oops.

"Yeah, well I -"

"Fuck her, she's lucky I didn't smack her upside the head."

And that's why I'm marrying her.

Just a cute little "Bakugo hates people" fluff lol

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #pro hero bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo #☆.rei writes

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