#i love this leather vest actually

[barbedwirechain]

[guttersniper]

fashion moments

[blusandbirds]

you know what i really do enjoy a jason suit design that gives him a hood over the helmet, but then let’s triple down and continue to have a domino mask underneath all that. love a boy who knows how to layer.

[izzy-b-hands]

Izzy Hands cosplay is far from perfect (my grey hairs are still too few and don't show well, and I need actual leathers someday that eventually I'm gonna be able to save for dang it) but! It is v comfy and it's nice to dress up for the holiday

Bonus Izzy pumpkin that Housemate helped me carve bc they Get It re: characters that live in your bones after the first time you see them and when something frustrating/sad/etc happens to them. They helped get the lil tattoo looking much better!

[todayisafridaynight]

tumblr might not respect the alligator print but i do

[love-bitesx]

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

[solarmorrigan]

In for a Devil of a Night

For the @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt: "Where in the hell did you find that costume??" Rated: T | Words: 930 | CW: implied sexual content | Tags: established relationship, slutty Halloween costumes: not just for women!, stockings, wouldn't go so far as to say lingerie but it's close, Steve Harrington is a tease, Eddie Munson is whipped Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Hey, babe?” Steve’s voice floats back towards Eddie from the bedroom. “Can you come help me with something?”

“Yeah,” Eddie calls back, though it takes him a moment to tear his attention away from the slasher flick playing on the TV.

Steve had wandered off about half an hour ago, just when it had started getting dark, saying he had to put on his costume. Eddie’s already wearing his—has been for most of the day, actually—a relatively simple ensemble of a billowy white shirt, a brown leather vest, and a pirate hat (there had also been an eyepatch, but he’d abandoned that early on).

Neither of them have plans for the night, no Halloween parties or other engagements, just the intent to watch a few scary movies and hand out candy, but Eddie had talked Steve around to dressing up anyway. The kids at the door always love it when Eddie is committed to acting out his costume, and he has every intention of pulling Steve into the bit.

It would help, of course, if Eddie knew what Steve’s costume is, but Steve’s been stubbornly secretive about it – says it’s a surprise.

And, to Steve’s credit, Eddie is very surprised when he gets to the bedroom.

His eyes are glued to Steve’s ass for a solid few seconds before he can take in any other part of the costume, but that really isn’t his fault; it nearly has a target on it, wrapped in tiny, shiny red shorts that draw Eddie’s attention immediately. A long, red, pointed tail hangs from the waistband of the shorts, and Eddie can only curse it for partially obstructing the otherwise perky, rounded view.

Then Steve turns around.

The shorts are, if possible, even more obscene from the front, doing almost nothing to obscure the bulge of Steve’s cock. The fun doesn’t end there, however. The costume (such as it is) doesn’t seem to have come with shoes, but Steve’s made up for that with a pair of silky-looking, red thigh-high stockings, the elastic tops squeezing into the meat of his thick thighs in much the same way Eddie would like to be doing right now.

There are little devil horns situated on top of Steve’s head, poking out from his artfully tousled hair, and there’s red glitter—glitter! Never let it be said that Steve Harrington half-asses his seduction attempts—spread around his sultry, heavy-lidded eyes and over the tops of his cheeks.

It should look cheap and ridiculous, but like just about everything else he puts on, Steve manages to make it sexy. Eddie has had to come to terms with his growing appreciation for preppy polos, and he supposes now he’ll just have to accept his attraction to lamé short shorts.

Unfortunately, since the overall effect of the ensemble has kicked Eddie’s brain offline, the first thing out of his mouth is neither suave nor appreciative.

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” he blurts.

Steve gives a rolling shrug. “Costume shop,” he says, twitching his hips to the side so that his tail swings out. He grabs it and twirls it in a lazy circle. “I know devils and demons are usually your thing, but I hoped you wouldn’t mind me borrowing the shtick for the night.”

“Uh, no– no, not… at all.” Eddie shakes his head quickly. “Are you, uh– planning to answer the door like that?”

“No,” Steve answers with a smirk. “I thought we could just put out a bowl of candy with a sign telling people to take one, and then we can stay in the bedroom all night.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Steve, that’s a terrible idea,” he says. “’Take one’? No kid in their right mind would take just one. The candy will be gone in fifteen minutes, and then we’ll have kids ringing the doorbell, and when we don’t answer, we’re gonna get egged or some shit.”

With his smirk melting into a frown, Steve drops his tail and crosses his arms over his bare chest, one hip popped out in a way that somehow manages to convey judgement.

“Are you seriously arguing with me right now?” he asks, at once bitchy and incredulous.

“Oh my god.” Eddie takes a moment to stare into the middle distance, letting his brain recalibrate. “What is wrong with me?”

He ducks out of the bedroom, already halfway to their tiny in-home office when Steve calls after him, “Where are you going?”

Eddie backtracks, popping his head back around the doorway. “I’m getting a piece of paper to make the sign.” He points a finger at Steve. “You stay right where you are. I need two minutes to set this up and then I’m gonna come back and ravish you.”

Steve smile is back, soft and amused. “Okay. Go ahead, I’ll wait right here.”

Eddie dashes through writing up the sign (does it matter if it’s legible? It’s just going to be ignored) and is on his way to the kitchen for a bowl when something occurs to him.

“Hey.” He ducks back into the bedroom doorway. “Didn’t you say you needed help with something? What was it?”

Biting his lip, Steve drags a hand down his ribs, over his stomach, and hooks a thumb in the waistband of his shorts. “I need help getting the costume off.”

Tearing himself away to finish setting up the candy is the hardest thing Eddie thinks he’s ever had to do, but with the prospect of Steve to come back to, he manages it (if only just).

[lovebugism]

“I’m not the easiest person to talk to, or be around. It’s… hard for other people to love me. I get that.” with Eddie? Maybe he and reader are sorta rivals or frenemies?

here's an unsolicited part 2 to this fic! hope you like it :D — eddie knows you like him now, so you find it extremely hard to be normal around him accordingly (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, more succession references, 2.3k)

You walk into the Hideout behind Steve and Robin, hands trembling and sticky with sweat. 

The humid air of the overcrowded bar and the overwhelming stench of cheap beer do little to quell your swirling stomach. The too-loud music and bustling bodies are hardly more than a harsh reminder of the last time you were here — pouring your heart out to Eddie Munson in the form of anxious word vomit, only to be hopelessly turned away. 

Not quite rejected but hardly embraced, which is somehow more embarrassing. 

“You alright?” Steve asks once you’ve ducked into the dim hallway of the backstage area. 

The music and muddled chatter are mostly stifled now, but the walls continue to pulse with life — riddled with chipping paint and dubious stains that only add to your unease. You try to swallow down your distant ennui, hoping it isn’t as obvious as it feels. (It is). Your loud feelings are too big for your body, and it’s got your face softly screwed together like you’ve tasted something sour.

The concerned glint in Steve’s eyes makes you cower. “Yeah. I’m peachy,” you deadpan with an unconvincing shrug. “Why?”

“‘Cause you look like we’re leading you to slaughter,” Robin scoffs.

“You’re asking me to be nice to Eddie Munson for two hours,” you grouse. “So, excuse me if I’m not the most chipper.”

The brunette girl flashes you a look over her shoulder, ocean eyes smudged with dark liner. “Scared you’ll spontaneously combust?” she jokes with her hand wrapped around the rusted knob of the faux greenroom. It feels more like her chipped maroon nails have grabbed your heart and twisted.

“Terrified,” you monotone just before she swings the door open.

The tiny, windowless room smells like sweat and grocery store cologne. It’s crowded with vanity mirrors, plastic folding chairs, and suitcases — hardly big enough for a heavy metal band. 

The three of you run into Gareth and Jeff on your way in. The two look nothing like themselves as you shuffle past them in the doorway, sharing fleeting glances and awkward greetings as you go. A couple of D&D nerds in leather and eyeliner feels almost uncanny.

It’s the same with Eddie, sort of. Curls drenched with sweat, eyes smudged black, tanktop damp around the neckline — a total rockstar. You’re not sure if it’s the raucous outfit stirring your stomach or the body wearing it.

“Oh, shit— You assholes actually showed!” Eddie beams at the sight of you. “And you dressed for the occasion, too.”

The boy in all black and silver stands before the three of you, still dressed in corporate attire after working late shifts. Steve and Robin look at least mostly normal without the Family Video vests and branded name tags. You, however, look like one of those businesswear catalogs brought to life — glaringly out of place. 

“You sayin’ The Gap isn’t proper Hideout attire, Munson?” Steve quips, holding his arm out for a friendly (only slightly awkward) side embrace.

Eddie slaps the back of the boy’s collared shirt with a ringed hand. “Claire’s is more metal than The Gap,” he teases, then turns to hug Robin. “At least Buckley looks halfway normal.”

“And by normal, you mean hot, right?” she jokes, voice deep and gritty and effortlessly sultry.

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

Eddie has no trouble greeting Steve and Robin but loses most of his cool when he turns to you.

The not-so confession at Benny’s Burgers seemed to change more things between you than the heart-felt one you shared here not too long ago. He feels a bit weird, knowing now that you meant what you said — that you actuallyliked him, and that it wasn’t just some cruel joke. 

He feels like he’s got cool points to win with you now. And it makes him achingly aware of when he inevitably loses them.

“Look at you,” Eddie grins, tossing his chin back to shake wild curls from his face. A few chestnut strands cling stubbornly to his sticky forehead. The milky white tendons of his neck shine with sweat, too. “You look like an actual human person.”

“Wow. Thanks, Eds,” you monotone, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a compliment. You cross your arms over the chest of your fitted turtle neck and joke, “I’d say that same, but… you look like a poodle that just washed up on shore.”

Robin mumbles your name through gritted teeth, flashing you a look and poking you on the shoulder. She scolds you like a parent, as though to say be nice without actually saying the words out loud.

“What?” you shrug.

Eddie only chuckles — a low and honeyed sound he presses to your ear when he brings you suddenly in for a hug. His lean body meets yours, soft and strong and slightly clammy. His skin smells like deep cologne, minty aftershave, and very faintly of boy. You tense when his hands cradle your back.

“Oh,” you mumble in surprise, floundering at the affection as you attempt to hold him back. “Okay.”

“How’s the nine-to-five?” Eddie asks after he parts from you, sounding almost like he cares. “Boring the absolute shit outta you?”

You shrug with an air of nonchalance and hope you don’t look as flustered by his attention as you feel. “Oh, you know… Burying the bodies, counting the cash.”

“Gotta picture of me in your little cubicle?”

“Tons,” you answer. “It’s basically an Eddie Munson shrine.”

His smile widens to show all his teeth. His chocolate eyes glitter with mischief, too, like he knows what he’s doing to you. 

Eddie gives you a break from his suffocating stare and looks to Steve and Robin standing on his other side. You feel like you can finally breathe. “I told Greg at the bar to give my friends free beer tonight— just show him your ID or whatever,” the boy tells them.

“Oh, my god— I could kiss you right now,” Robin mumbles.

Eddie’s plush pink lips curl into a half-smirk when he turns to you again. “So try not to run up your tab tonight, alright, sweetheart?” he quips and pats you on the arm. It’s easier to joke that he hadn’t mentioned you at all when your name was first from his lips. Which is totally a joke you would’ve made.

You flash Steve and Robin a wide-eyed look of annoyance, jaw clenched to contain all the insults you instinctively want to spew. “He got us free beers,” the former cautions with a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t ruin it.”

You roll your eyes and hear them leave behind you — not even trying to pretend like they didn’t swing byfor the beers. Eddie’s stupid grin widens when you stay. “You heard the man. Means you gotta be nice to be all night.”

“Right,” you scoff like it’s funny. Steve The Hair Harrington doesn’t exactly scream figure of authority to you. Robin Buckley, maybe. But definitely not Steve.

“Think you can do it without spontaneously combusting?” he quips.

You hate that he knows you so well. “Not particularly,” you deadpan.

Eddie tilts his wild head to the side and sends you a pretty, tight-lipped smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job already.”

His praise is sarcastic. You know this already, so you’re not sure why it has your stomach doing backflips. “Thanks…” you mumble, inherently shrinking inside yourself as you attempt to make small talk. “How, uh— How was the show?”

“Fine,” the boy hums, shrugging his pale shoulders. “Same set from last time. Same crowd of drunks.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

“Eh. Don’t be. You’ve actually got important shit going on— Don’t worry about me.”

“Your shit’s important, too,” you argue without thinking, perhaps more shocked by your sincerity than the boy ahead of you. You follow quickly and much more harshly, “I guess.”

Eddie smiles wordlessly. You start to squirm in place. He watches you grow suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin as you seem to look everywhere but back at him. The pink expression ebbs into a more concerned one. “You okay?”

You hate the question more the second time. 

“Fine,” you monotone, hardly convincing.

He squints. “Then why aren’t you looking at me?”

“I am looking at you,” you argue just to argue, giving him a measly glance before turning away a moment later.

“No, seriously,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out to touch you. “What’s going on?”

His ringed hand caresses the outside of your elbow. You jerk back on instinct, more aggressive than you mean to be. 

“Nothing!” you huff, looking so far away from him that he can only see your profile. You grumble like a storm cloud, “You just— You make me go all weird. As you know. And fully intend.”

“That’s what this is all about?” Eddie chuckles. “You got a little crush on me?”

He reaches out for you again, this time digging his fingers into the junction of your neck. You swat him away with a harsh hand. You hate the way his touch makes your skin buzz. 

“You’re such a dick,” you groan before spinning on your heel. Your slacks swish around your ankles as you walk the very short distance to the door. Eddie’s footsteps sound much heavier in comparison as he rushes behind you. 

“Hey, hey, hey! C’mon. I’m just kidding,” he assures, still laughing as he slides his body between you and the exit. He meets your glare with a crooked smile. “It’s okay. I got a crush on you back— you know that.”

You hate how easily the words spill from his mouth, how cool he is about all of it compared to the time bomb you’ve become — tick tick ticking away as your anxiety builds. You figure this stupid crush (or whatever he wants to call it) must mean more to you than it does to him. So again, you turn away.

Eddie knocks his worn sneaker against the toe of your pleather boot. “Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t make it any less true, you know?” he tells you, quiet and suddenly serious as he tilts his cheek to his shoulder. “Doesn’t make me like you any less, either.”

His confession makes you feel funny. It makes you giddy and fills you with dread all at once. “It’s just… It’s weird,” is all you can think to say, after several long moments of silence.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I— I’m not— I don’t know,” you groan, bringing your hands to your face to hide behind your palms. “God, I did not intend to talk about this today.”

“Well, too late. We’re talking about it.”

Eddie takes a step away from the door, moving impossibly closer to you. He ducks his chin to meet your sheepish gaze, dark eyes sparkling with visible concern. 

You step back from him on instinct and talk wildly with your hands. “No! Tonight was supposed to be about you— about you’re fucking show— not about me!”

Brows raised and hidden behind his sweat-drenched bangs, he monotones. “Say it.”

A stubborn sigh puffs out your lips. “I just… I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to. Or to be around. I know that,” you confess. “I know it’s hard for people to like me, but… you do, and I really don’t fucking get it, okay? It just feels like you’re playing a big, dumb prank on me.”

Eddie stays silent for a moment, chocolate gaze unwavering as he ponders your words. 

“Wait, so…” the boy trails off, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You’re mean to me, but I like you anyway, and because I can see through all the— faux bitchiness or whatever— You have a hard time… being around me?”

Your eyes flit to the ceiling for a moment. You look back at him and nod. “Yeah, that’s… That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”

Eddie beams before he can help it, filling the dingy room with golden sunshine. “Well, you know how we get past that, right?” he wonders and scrunches the bridge of his nose.

You get the feeling he’s teasing you still, but you entertain him anyway. “What?”

“Us being boyfriend-girlfriend—”

“Eddie,” you groan with your head tilted back, only partly pretending to be annoyed. You don’t step back from him when he inches closer to you this time, though. You don’t jerk away from his touch when his hands caress your forearms, either. 

“I know you wanna…” he lilts, pulling you closer with ringed fingers wrapped gently around your wrists. Your shoes scuff the carpet as you stumble into his chest. “It’s why I make you go all funny, right?”

You squint up at him, with hate in your eyes and your heart in your throat. “You’re so annoying,” you deadpan.

“Okay, how about this? We can just go on one date, alright?” Eddie offers, smoothing his guitar-string calloused fingers up your shoulders. “Nothin’ fancy, I promise. Just bottomless breadsticks at Enzo’s at seven. And you, bottom-less at my place at eight.”

Your knotted stomach does a backflip at his words, but you keep glaring at him anyway. “And who says you don’t know how to flirt?” you squint.

Another chuckle spills from his plush, pink lips. His tongue darts out to wet them a second later — mouth desperate to be kissed. “‘Kay. Fine. How about we just makeout in my van after closing? And I try not to be a total idiot and ruin it like last time?”

He’s much more serious now. You can see it in his very expressive button eyes. He’s borderline pleading now, for a second chance he never needed to ask for. 

You cave, far quicker and with a lot less fight than he expected. “Fine,” you shrug with an unenthusiastic huff.

Eddie smiles so big, it’s like you’ve just told him you loved him or something — all his teeth on display — so wide and full of adoration it almost hurts. 

[kitmon]

Get Into The Groove | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie finds you dancing while you’re home alone and, unsurprisingly, the sight has him careening into the bottomless gorge that is loving you all over again.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: allusions to sexy times 18+ only, no actual smut, FLUFF cuz I’m a sucka for it, established relationship, reader is explicitly referred to as “girl” and “woman”

Author’s Note: Just an itty bitty thing that came to me a while ago that I jotted down in between work and school :P hope you like it! And if you’d like to enhance the experience listen to Into the Groove by Madonna and Wango Tango by Ted Nugent!

There are few things that Eddie Munson looks forward to in life: a well-planned D&D campaign, a perfectly rolled joint— the premium shit— and getting home to you.

He whistles to himself as he skips up the steps of his trailer, chains and leather creaking with each step he takes and every key he flips in his hand. The entire day he had been anticipating this moment, just as he does every weekday, where he can come home to a warm and secluded trailer, see you and kiss you the same way he did before he left to work— deep and passionate and long enough to make you dizzy— and sink into his worn-in spot on the couch with you under his arm. He smiles at the comforting thought as he pushes the door in, humming under his breath as he steps inside. 

He drops his keys into the ceramic bowl near the door with a clink before he begins peeling his jacket and vest off. His arm is halfway in and out of his jacket as his ears perk at the music trailing down the hall from his room. He finishes shrugging his jacket off, tossing it over the La-Z-Boy before he stalks towards his room, taking care to cushion his steps. As he gets closer he can make out the faint synth and the clap of the drum machine; it’s Madonna, he realizes.

He dips his head to peek through the slit between the door and the frame, eyes glowing with mirth as a wide grin consumes his face.

Only when I’m dancing can I feel this free…

He hadn't expected to find this upon coming home. You’re usually stretched out across the sofa or his bed, mentally marking the bubbles of a quiz inside a Cosmo that Nancy let you borrow or smiling to yourself as you flip through the pages of one of your bodice ripper romances. Instead, from his vantage point, he can see you singing along to the tape that you’ve popped into his stereo, sipping a black cherry Tab as you skip around his room tidying up the cluttered space. You pick up discarded clothes from his floor, pinching that lacy number he stripped off of you that morning and dangling it over your pointer finger as you absentmindedly twirl it around before tossing it into the hamper.

Tonight I’m gonna dance with someone else…

As the song builds to its chorus you drop the clothes you're working with, take one more gulp of your soda and start bobbing your head and shaking your hips. With the way you sway, he can't help but admire how your frame fits under one of his ragged sleep shirts. Your legs are bare and enticing as you prance around with only your underwear on underneath, the reliable lilac pair that you wear flashing at him with every punctuated glide you make down your legs before flipping your hair back. 

Get into the groove,

Boy you’ve got to prove,

Your love to me…

Your voice picks up in confidence and volume. Even if you're not classically trained, you make up for the wavering notes and shifting keys with your enthusiasm as you stomp about his room, shaking your head and shifting your hair as you swivel and cock your hips in a way that has Eddie swooning against the door frame. The door kicks open wider as he watches you, tongue licking at his canine in amusement and adoration.

Your singing subdues into little mumbled harmonies and a few enunciated riffs as you drag your hands from your thighs up your rocking body, your fingers catching the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your ass to offer just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glimpse. You writhe like a charmed snake in a wicker basket, your hands meeting over your head as you slither in mesmerizing forms.

You fall away from your dance but maintain the skip in your step and the nod in your head as you bend over and snatch a pair of Eddie's boxers from the floor. You twirl in place, boxers held to your chest as you get lost in the music, shifting your feet to twist you around, eyes closed blissfully.

“At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see— AH!”

You scream, chucking the boxers at Eddie’s head as you’re startled. He ducks as the garment soars over his head and he laughs at your reaction.

“Jesus, sweetheart! You almost took me out with my own drawers!”

“Eddie!” You scold, with wide eyes and a small crinkle between your brows, “You scared the shit out of me!”

You’re clutching your chest with one hand as your breath relaxes but your eyes screw up in mild anger at the fact that he snuck up on you.

“M’sorry! Didn’t want to interrupt the show.”

You groan, your hands crawling over your face as you wince, “You saw that?”

Eddie steps towards you, soothing your embarrassment by rubbing at your arms.

“Mm-hmm, and, if I may say so,” he leans in to whisper into your ear, “it was very sexy.”

You sputter out a giggle at him before taking your hands and pulling at the loose thread along the collar of his t-shirt— perhaps you’re the reason all of his shirts have holes along the collar.

“Of course you would find it sexy,” you tease as your fingers migrate upwards to play with the ends of his hair. “You could watch me floss my teeth and get a semi.”

“Can you blame a guy?” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer. “With a girl as smokin’ as you, it’s impossible to keep the little guy down.”

You snort, letting your head fall into his chest as he strokes your hair.

You bask in the silence for a moment, the two of you shuffling your feet and breathing each other in. The song’s ended by now and moved on to another poppy dance number that fades into the background.

“Think you can teach me some of those moves?” He questions into your hairline.

You hum, a smile coating the sound as you lean back to look into his eyes.

“I dunno, don’t think you’re limber enough to pull off some of these crazed gyrations of this rock generation.”

He smiles down at you, leaning close enough to nip at your lips, “I’ll have you know I’m a proper Johnny Castle, baby.” His smile gives way to a contemplative yet amused shape, “And did you just quote Ted Nugent to me?”

You nod your head as a wide grin splits across your face.

“Oh, you don't know what you do to me, woman!”

You squeal as he hoists you up and throws you onto his bed, your head falling back against his pillows as you laugh from the excitement of it. You fall into soft hums of laughter that slip past your throat as Eddie follows you down and climbs up your body, nipping at your calves and thighs, pushing his nose against the hem of your— well, his shirt— to reveal that worn lilac cotton that you make look like a whole Victoria’s Secret set.

“And I’ll show you dancing, I’m quite skilled at Zee Wango, Zee Tango.”

[lewdmommie]

No Expectations

Summary: y/n now has to navigate new complex feelings with König she didn’t have before.

Jealouskönigxreader💗

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, Rough sex, raw sex, oral sex, language, angst, size kink, praise/degradation etc

Word count: 4.k

(Comment, reblog and follow)

This is part 2 of One night stand

Part 3

“No.” Ghost doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever document he’s scribbling on.

“Please, I’ll do any other cruel and unusual punishment you have lined up for me.” You plead.

“You don’t get to argue the terms of your probation. König is who you’re training with, no questions asked.” He says through clenched teeth.

“Why can’t I just work with someone else. There’s plenty of people on base.” You reach over snagging a mint from the decorative bowl at the corner of his desk. His eyes follow your movements. It wasn’t like you to not get along with someone, everyone on base either loved you or felt indifferent. Of course there was a handful that weren’t the nicest because of your popularity but König wouldn’t fall into that category. “Why do you want to switch partners? Did something happen between you two?” His question makes your eyes widen remembering how König was balls deep inside you just a few nights ago. Luckily ghost's eyes are locked on the paperwork in front of him. You stand turning your back to him, hiding the hot flush that creeps onto your cheeks.

“It’s nothing like that.” You say with false confidence. The small crack in your voice catches his attention. What was this feeling at the pit of his stomach, a feeling that made his jaw tense and heart pound. He finally looks away from the paper, capturing your gaze with an intensity that makes goosebumps prickle at your skin. He rises to his feet, palms planted firmly on the surface of the desk. “Fine. I won’t pry…I don’t have any other expendable men.” He rasps.

“What about you? It’s just three hours and it’s after work hours. We both know you don’t have a life serg.” You chuckle. If you had X-ray vision you would see the irritated expression under the mask.

“I am your superior. That means I have actual work to do unlike you sorry excuses for soldiers.” He flips through the piles of paperwork.

“That isn’t very nice sergeant, you’ve got to be more pleasant in the workplace.” You tease walking around the office space, touching things as you go.

There is a tall bookcase in the corner that catches your eye. Thick spined books with elegant writing line the shelves. Along with a small cactus and tank figurines, a picture frame stands out. A beautiful brunette woman holding a baby wrapped in a tiny blue blanket , smiles at the camera in a dated looking room. A shadow cast behind you, turning around, you're faced with a huge vest covered chest. He takes the frame lifting it over your head to sit on the top shelf. He smells of gunpowder and a Smokey musk, your back bumps the case as he steps closer. Naturally your eyes close not sure what exactly you were waiting on to happen. His arm retracts holding a black leather covered book with silver embroidery.

“Who was that woman?” You exhale as he steps away walking back to his desk.

“No one.” He flips through the pages, nodding to himself as if he’d found what he was looking for.

“Who was that baby? I didn’t know you had a kid, that must mean you’re married…who would marry you serg you’re so serious all the time.” You plop your butt onto the desk. He shakes his head fighting the urge to add another week to your probation for sitting on his desk. His gaze sharpens.

“The child is not mine.” He says.

“Oh a scandal, who’s child is it? I can’t believe your wife would do that to you sergeant, need a hug?” You open your arms beckoning him forward.

“I am not married. Don’t you have toilets to clean. Get out.” He pushes your hip off his desk.

“We haven’t even come to an agreement yet!” You exclaim, feet hitting the ground.

“Fine. I will train with you just for today if it’ll get you out of my office.” He offers.

“The rest of the week.” You barter.

“Two days.” He responds.

“Four.” You fold your arms.

“Three. Final offer rookie.” He shakes his head.

“Fine, three days is better than one.”

“You’ll be the one to inform König you’re switching partners.” The computer keyboard clicks as he enters something into the database. At this point he had to be getting off to your embarrassment, if looks could kill he’d be a goner. Ghost didn’t tolerate taking the easy way out, if two people had issues on base they would be addressed and resolved quickly. He always said there wouldn’t be war within our army.

“I-fine i'll tell him.” You sigh knowing he wouldn’t budge.

“Good,now leave, I’m busy.” He waves you off without glancing up.

~

Three days. That should be enough time for things to cool down between you and König, you think, grabbing a lunch tray. The line moves steadily as the staff ladles today's lunch onto each plate.

You smile at the older lady behind the table, holding out your tray.

“y/n, I’ve got your lunch packed up right here for you.” She bends down grabbing a brown paper bag with your name scribbled on it. She nods apologetically, placing the bag on your plate, peanut butter and jelly again…yum.

“Y/n! Over here!” A cute brown skinned woman with luscious dreadlocks waves you over. Maya. You and Maya enlisted at the same time, basically going through the whole process together. Without her, you don’t know how long you would have lasted here. when you two found out you’d be stationed at the same base it felt like fate intended for you to stay with each other, She’s the entire reason you planned to reenlist. Unfortunately your closeness meant she could see right through you, so you had to find a way to keep her off your trail.

“Hey May thanks for holding my seat.” You sit across from her.

“No problem you’d do the same for me.” She jokes biting into her apple. You unroll the wrinkled paper bag that looked like it could have something illegal inside of it. You pull out a poorly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with a juice box and an orange. Your nose scrunches at the thought of tasting sticky peanut butter and sickly sweet grape jelly again. You look longingly at Maya’s lunch, your stomach growls in envy.

“Peanut butter and jelly again I can’t believe ghost, do you want to trade lunches?” She pushes her tray towards you. You shake your head unwrapping the plastic and taking a bite of your sandwich.

“I like the pain.” You say in a playful tone.

“You’re such a freak.” She laughs rolling her eyes.

The mess hall echoed with chatter from various conversations, every table for lack of a better word, had their own cliques. It wasn’t like some cheesy highschool movie but everyone had their own friend groups they’d break off with during lunch. Guys like Ghost and König didn’t dine in the mess hall so when you see König leaned up against the wall watching you, it completely catches you off guard.

“What’s his deal?” Maya asks not even trying to hide the fact that she was staring back.

“We had a disagreement.” You sip your juice box averting your gaze from him.

“No way, you’ve been telling me how you two were getting along so well. Did something happen? I’ll kick his ass right now.” She says in a serious tone. König stood at 6ft 6inches tall with the body of a tank but Maya was statuesque at 5’11 inches tall with an extremely toned physique. He was strong but so is Maya, she trains with the men for fun. After long days of them making sexist jokes, She loved beating the shit out of them. She can squat 250+ pounds easily so you definitely don’t take her threat lightly.

“It wasn’t like that Maya, this one might be on me. I’ve been avoiding the issue instead of talking it out with him…” you trail biting the sandwich.

“Well then it sounds like you know what to do.” She touches your hand, nodding in his direction.

“Yeah…you’re right. I am a part of the special military forces. I’m not afraid of a conversation.” You shoot up ready to deliver the news of your new partnership with ghost.

Your legs wobble as you walk to the trash, throwing away your tray. You can feel his eyes follow your every move as you snake through the cafeteria full of people. He’s leaning against the wall with one leg, arms folded, peering down at you. His body language was reserved, there was an invisible wall stacked between you two.

“König I-“ you start.

“-We will not be speaking during work hours rookie.” He says coldly.

“König please I-“ he interrupts you again.

“Colonel König.”

“Colonel König. I need to talk to you about something.” You whisper.

“You’ll have to schedule an appointment during my office hours.” His voice is flat.

“You know what, fine, fuck this.” You storm off, fed up with his distance. His hand twitches fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back. Instead he watches as you slip further away from him. Truth is…he was scared. Scared that you’d reject him and that you’d felt everything that happened was just a mistake. He found himself pulling back before you could deliver the final blow. Your departure in the middle of the night showed him what he needed to know about your feelings for him. It was just a one night stand, nothing more…Right? If that was the case why was his chest tight at the idea that he’d just hurt you.

~

“You’re slow!” Ghost barks as your body hits the mat. You cough, holding your side. He stares down at you with impatient eyes, waiting for you to reset.

“Again.” He orders as you stand rubbing your ribs.

If he was holding back, you’d hate to feel his full power, he could toss you around like it was nothing. With your feet planted firmly on the ground, you step one foot back allowing more range for your dominant hand. Your fists are raised, just as König taught you, protecting your jaw. Ghost swings left punching the barrier of your forearms, it hurts, but your guard doesn’t break. You duck his right hook taking the advantage and hitting him with a quick body shot to the gut. He stumbles crashing into one of the wooden pillars in the training room. You advance keeping your guard up, to his surprise you rush him jabbing the hard material of his mask. One of your weak points was the inability to strike someone when they’re down. If he didn’t have military grade training, the mask would have shattered from the force of your blows. Before that can happen he attacks low, swiping your knees from under you. Your back crashes onto the mat, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze from the impact trying to catch your breath. Ghost towers over you with both wrists locked in his iron grip. You can hear him breathing heavily, his chest pressing against your with every exhale. Your legs wrap around him in an attempt to get the upper hand, he doesn’t budge as you try to flip his body. He chuckles at your struggle lifting your arms above your head to show off his strength. “Give up.” He pants as you wiggle beneath him.

“That isn’t what you taught me now is it?” Your hips buck against his waist. A tiny whimper escapes his lips, his hand lets your wrist loose to replace it on your leg. His cock strains in the tight confines of his cargos, if not for the thick material, you’d have felt him poking your inner thigh. Utilizing your center gravity, you rock your body using his weight to roll completely over, landing on top of him. Your legs straddle his thighs. without thinking, his big hands grab your waist balancing you.

“Who was that woman in the picture?” He struggles under you, your knees tense, locking him in place. Now he quite literally couldn’t run from the question.

“No one.” He doesn’t budge.

“She must be important if you won’t talk about her.” You implore.

“Since when are we worried about each other's personal lives?” He relaxes, no longer fighting back.

“Whenever I bring it up, you get this pained look in your eye…like something changed you. Like a piece of you is still hurting.” Your voice softens. His heart thumps at your words, he can no longer look you in the eyes. He wanted to fight the urge to let you in, to have you truly know him. No one knew him and that’s the way he likes it . If no one gets attached, then no one would be put in danger because of him. He didn’t trust himself to protect the ones he cared for after what happened.

“She was my mother.” He says finally.

“Was? What happened to her?” You lean down to hear him better, your face inches from his.

“I couldn’t protect her.” his voice was barely a whisper. You both jump as the training room door creaks open.

“Sorry I’m late y/n-“ König freezes with a tense jaw and clenched fist. After the heated moment earlier he planned to apologize for his behavior at practice today. He had decided to conquer his fears and give you guys a real shot. He wanted to confess his true feelings today when you two had some alone time but things just changed. You scramble off of ghost’s lap standing to your feet clumsily. König takes a step back as you approach him.

“This is what I was trying to tell you earlier…me and ghost will be training together for the next three days…” you ramble.

“Right. Then I’ll just leave you two to do your ‘training’.” He backs into the doorway turning on his heels. He wanted to go back there and beat Sergeant Ghost’s face in, break every finger he laid on you. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you back home and pound every ounce of anger he had into you. He wanted everyone to know you were his…but you weren’t and he had to accept that. He couldn’t stop you from exploring other options but he wouldn’t sit back and watch either. Ghost sits up watching the whole thing play out, he could see the anger seething off of König. He got the exact same feelings right before a mission, that sense of imminent danger. This was more than some silly fight between the two of you, he realized that now. He realized what you meant to König and now what you meant to him. His heart drops as he watches you run after König, he thinks about calling after you but chokes back the words.

“König please wait!” You yell running behind him. You grunt as he stops suddenly, making you slam into his back.

“What is there to talk about y/n? You don’t owe me anything.” He mutters.

“I know this sounds like bullshit but that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“You’re right it does sound like bullshit.” He says.

“I just needed a break from this…from us. Just for a few days.” You explain.

“You’ve made it painfully clear there is no us.” He snaps. His head shakes as if he wanted to say more but instead he walks away leaving you alone in the hall.

~

“How was your day” Maya asks, slipping on her purple bonnet.

“Horrible. May, do you think I’m a good person?” You ask, climbing in her bunk. She welcomes you with open arms, stroking your head gently. You nessel into her embrace, finding comfort in her touch. Maya always knew the right things to say, you could count on her to make you feel better after hard days.

“Of course I think you’re a good person y/n. What makes you ask something like that?” She strokes your hair, looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“I just needed to hear it.” she pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She states seriously.

“I know.” You sigh.

“Well you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” She assures.

“Thank you may I love you.” You kiss her cheek before throwing your legs over the bunk and walking to your bed.

“I love you too weirdo, goodnight.” She rolls over pulling the cover up to her neck.

~

“Wider.” Ghost orders, slipping two fingers in your open mouth. You suck desperately, wiggling your ass in anticipation. A large warm hand pushes your thighs apart exposing your dripping slit, your back arches as they flick your beating bud. Who? You turn your body and behind you is a half lidded König looking back. His green eyes stare into your soul as he slides a thick finger inside you, pulling it out achingly slow before pumping it back inside again. Your gaze is snatched away by ghost and met with a stiff twitching cock. Clear pre-cum oozes from his flustered tip, using his thumb he gently opens your mouth, sliding his head over the plush of your lower lip. He hisses as you take him in fully, hollowing your cheeks to take him even deeper. You gasp as König stretches you with another finger, stroking the deepest parts of you. Wet squelching fills the space as your pussy drools with arousal. Saliva dribbles down your chin as your head bobs, swallowing as much of him as your body allowed. His head falls back as his tip is met with the back of your warm velvet throat. You gag, making your throat quiver around him, his hips rock sporadically , fingers tangled in your hair. “S’fucking good baby…that’s it you’re making me feel so good-“ Ghost whimpers, head lolling back.

“Ahhh uhn…” You groan, mouth full, as König runs the flat of his tongue up your split, licking away your slippery nectar. His tongue pets your stiff clit, sucking and licking every inch of your inner sex. His five O’clock shadow rubs against your sensitive lips as he pushes deeper, snaking his tongue inside your tight hole. Your jaw goes slack as he tastes you from the inside fucking you with his wriggling tongue.

“Focus on me.” Ghost growls tilting your face to meet his fuck drunk eyes. His hips move aggressively, pounding the back of your throat without mercy. He pulls out admiring the long glistening trail of spit connecting the two of you before thrusting back in.

“Are you ready to take me Prinzessin?(princess)” König calls, planting soft kisses down your back. You nod your head attempting to say yes but all he hears are small moans and gags. He lines himself between your plush thighs, his tip pushes past the barrier of soft skin. You can feel his dick pulsing so close to your needy cunt you begin to whine, you shake your ass hoping to inch him closer. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He grunts, stroking your inner thighs with his cock. Your womanhood is soaking wet at the idea that these two monsters were using your body to get off too. “Your thighs feel just as good as that pretty pussy between your legs” he moans fucking your thighs. Ghost pulls back, slapping the curved underside of his dick on your swollen blushed lips.

“Are you tired baby, do you want me to cum?” He teases rubbing his head over your smooth skin.

“She doesn’t deserve to cum yet sergeant.” König slams into you with one long stroke. Ghost follows suit, ramming the back of your throat and trapping your screams inside. König grips your waist holding you still as he absolutely rails you, your pussy flutters with each stroke. His curved dick kisses your sweet spot with every thrust, your walls clench around him when he pulls back. Your entrance squeezes his tip, trying to suck him deeper. With short frustrating thrusts, he fucks you using just the tip of his cock.

“You’re so greedy, you already have a cock in your mouth…and you’re telling me you want more?” He flicks his hips rutting deep inside you. His fingers dig into your hips so hard you knew it’d leave a bruise. They rock your body between them using every piece of you to make themselves cum. You hear an audible ‘pop’ as König uses his spit to lubricate his finger before teasing the only hole that wasn’t full. Slapping sounds fill the air as he pounds into you, massaging your tight little hole. Ghost starts moving faster, making tears fall down your cheeks from overstimulation.

“That slutty mouth is begging for my cum isn’t it?” He chokes, his dick spasming in your mouth.

He makes an inhuman noise as he slams into you one final time before shooting thick salty cum down your throat. König’s nails dig into your hips as he fucks you so hard, your stomach aches. He reached around grabbing your throat as his pace picks up…he was close.

“Can’t take anymore p-please König I’m so close” you cry, eyes rolling back.

“I love the way you beg.” He impales you one last time going as deep as your pussy allowed him. His cock trembles inside you as hot cum shoots from his pulsing tip. You fall to the bed in exhaustion, shaking like a leaf.

~

You wake up to the nagging sound of your alarm. Oh no you think pulling the covers up to your chest.

The sheets were soaking wet, if you didn’t remember last night's dream you’d have sworn you had an accident. Honestly you’d prefer if the infamous toilet dream was the culprit but that wasn’t the case here. This was a good old fashioned wet dream. You’ve had your fair share of wet dreams but König and Ghost…you had to be out of your mind. your brain probably used yesterday's events to generate some random dream sequence, it couldn’t mean anything. You stand, quickly stripping the sheets and making your way to the showers to wash off last night’s dream-like fun.

You get dressed and book it to the janitors closet to get a head start on your chores…something you never did. You couldn’t face either of them now, you decide to just bury yourself in your work. How could you talk This out? What would you say “hey I had a dream you two completely dominated me so we can’t chat right now?”. You’d rather die than ever admit something like that. Maybe this was a sign it was time to really think about your feelings. You need to truly understand how your heart works so nobody else would get hurt. You wondered where König was and what he was doing. Was he thinking about you the way you were thinking of him? You move the mop absentmindedly along the tile floor. You felt so safe with König, his laugh could light up a room, he was beautiful inside and out. But something about Ghost intrigued you and left you wanting more. You had to come up with a fair way to get to know both of them without anyone getting hurt.

~

“Maya, what if I wanted to date two people at once?” You lean over the lunch table so no one else would hear you. She’s quiet for a second, waiting for you to laugh but she sees how serious you are.

“What the hell are you talking about y/n?” She plops an orange slice in her mouth.

“Just hypothetically, how would you go about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Well…communication. Both parties would have to have a mutual understanding. Consent is key.” She explains.

“So just show your interest in the idea and inform them of the terms?”

“Right, but the real question is why would you want to do something like that?” She tilts her head.

“First of all it’s hypothetical, and second why should someone have to choose between two people they barely know. Shouldn’t they get the chance to atleast get to know each person.” You take a disgusting bite of your sandwich.

“Well…the person can try being friends with them first. That way there are no expectations.”

“What if they are stubborn and expect an answer right away?” You ask doe eyed. Maya pats your head supportively.

“Then they aren’t the ones for you.” You nod, shooting from your chair.

“God you’re so smart. I gotta go! See you later!” You yell back running out of the mess hall leaving your half eaten lunch.

~

You burst through ghosts office door without knocking as usual and as usual he gives you an annoyed look. To your surprise König sits at the opposite side of the desk, your guess is he’s being briefed on the next mission. His legs are wide as he leans back in his chair staring back at you silently.

“Great, you're both here.” You start.

“What do you want Rookie?” Ghost asks.

“We need to talk…” König stands, not wanting to hear whatever conversation you had to have with ghost.

“All of us.” he turns back to face you.

To be continued?…

[fbfh]

thinking about making eddie munson a daddy. specifically loud simp!eddie, just fuckin living the dream with you after high school. it's the early 90s, corroded coffin just finished their first world tour and are working on their fourth album. Eddie's a little older now, maybe mid/late 20s. His hair is still wild, it's even a little longer now, and he has a little stubble that tickles when he kisses you. or yk. does other stuff. anyway you're running some errands with Eddie and your 2 year old daughter Rose. He has even more sweet ol' tatties now, too. tucked right in next to the demon on his chest, he has a rose for your daughter, and your birth flower right over his heart so he can always keep you close to him. You're nearing your third trimester and your second baby is growing beautifully inside you. Eddie is so obsessed with your bump, always holding it for you, playing metal hits in headphones and kissing it. He tells it stories every night, too, right out of his dnd books. Rosie sits in on all of them, of course. She can't stand normal bedtime stories and only wants to hear about how the tieflings and orcs settled their age old dispute over the kryptgarden forest I don't play dnd don't come for me if this is inacurrate- Baby number two's nursery is almost done, you just need to pick up a few more cans of paint and some last minute decorations and additions. You're wearing a snug little maternity cami that shows off your bump and gorgeous figure, the one that drives Eddie crazy, and a pair of loose overalls with paint smudged on the side and cuffs. Rosie is wearing her favorite sundress, and Eddie has regretably left his leather jacket at home in an attempt to combat the hazy summer heat - but his vest isn't going anywhere. His hair is tied up all messy and a few stray curls have fallen out, brushing the neck of his cut off corrorded coffin shirt. He still can't believe his band actually has shirts, even though he sees you sleep in them every night. Rose wants to look at a music box for the baby, and since you're not allowed to pick up any more than 15 pounds on doctor's orders, Eddie scoops her up to take a look while you flip through paint swatches.

You're rudley interrupted by a grating voice you thought you'd heard the last of at your high school graduation. You look up as your name is called again at one of the bitchy girls you went to school with. You never thought you'd see her or any of her rude, cliquey, mean girl friends again, and you know exactly what you need to do.

You look at her blankly.

She keeps saying your name and introducing herself until finally mentioning you went to school together.

"Oh," you nod, ensuring no lightbulb of recognition goes off in your eyes. "Right."

You've only just started to take the wind out of her sails, and you look through paint swatches as she talks, and you remain completly bored and uninterested.

"You look... different!" She says with a fake kindness that she mircaulously hasn't grown out of yet. You hum in response. Right as you're about to exit as gracefully as possible, Eddie walks up the aisle behind you, Rosie on his hip. He's playing some little game with her, making her giggle like he always does. To this day, it astounds you how good he is with kids. You look back up at your former classmate, and have to bite back a laugh. She is totally checking him out. The irony of the situation - the exact type of girl who made your life hell and absolutely would have terrorized Eddie if they'd known each other back then - is now pushing up her boobs in her shirt and putting on the same pick me flirting face she apparently still uses.

"Hey there, sweetheart." Eddie says, gazing at you so warmly that his love for you is palpable. One look, and anyone can tell how head over heels crazy he is about you. He kisses you in a way that makes your stomach flip - and hers, both with longing and jealousy - then crouches down to your belly.

"And hello to you too, little dragon." Eddie chuckles, kissing your bump. Baby number two had earned the nickname from all your intense cravings for spicy food early on in your pregnancy, along with jokes about how Eddie wouldn't be surprised if the little guy can breathe fire when they pop out. He puts Rose in the baby seat of your shopping cart and reaches down to hold up your belly, swaying and kissing your cheek - and maybe nibbling your ear a little, just enough to make you laugh. He rests his head on your shoulder when he finally notices your former classmate.

"Oh," you say, like you just remembered she was there too. "How rude of me, Eddie, this is..."

You trail off, gesturing to her with the hand not on your cart for Rose to hold. She definitley takes after her dad, her love language has been physical touch since day one. The silence grows awkward as you're unable to recall her name, and after a painfully long wait, she finally relents, introducing herself.

"Right." You nod, chuckling. "Pregnancy brain. Anyway, we went to... high school... together." You say, like you're unsure if that's right. She nods, growing agetated that her status as popular girl and runner up prom queen doesn't extend into the real world.

"And this is Eddie. My husband." You look up at him lovingly as you say it, a warm gaze he returns. He takes your hand and kisses it.

"The luckiest husband in the world." He says sincerely, pressing another kiss to your temple. Her face sinks as she realizes you got married before she did.

"Oh," She nods, then tries to recover quickly. "Okay. Well, let's see the ring."

She says it playfully, but you know she's committing every detail to memory, looking for anything to scrutinize, and you're sure you'll hear about her gossiping about you from one of the kids you went to school with - you know, the nice, non-shitty ones. You extend your left hand despite the tacky nature of her question, and you wish you could have gotten a picture of the look on her face.

The ring and wedding band you wear are actually the second set of wedding rings from Eddie. The first one, the ring he proposed with, is actually one of his. You still wear it on a chain around your neck - it was always way too big for you, but you never wanted to resize it. When corroded coffin signed their first recording contract six months after you'd eloped, the first thing Eddie did with his signing bonus was buy you the biggest diamond he could find. The way you reacted with such genuine surprise, and still loved the old one too much to stop wearing told Eddie with more certainty than ever that he could not have made a better choice in handing over his heart to someone.

"Wow..." she says, trying to keep her face neutral. "Looks like you're ready to pop any day now too, huh?"

the backhanded comment rolls right off you as Rosie speaks up in her endearing toddler babble.

"I- I'm- mommy's making me a- a baby brother for us!" She says excitedly, "Or- she maybe baking a baby sister. Maybe." She emphasizes, repeating what you and Eddie told her about being surprised if it's going to be a baby brother or baby sister. You chuckle at your daughter, and Eddie looks down at her.

"That's right sweet girl. You're gonna have to teach baby how to fight dragons and be a big strong paladin, just like you!" He pokes her playfully and she starts giggling her head off again. You can't get over how much they look alike, she really could be Eddie's twin. Before you can find a graceful exit out of the conversation, a group of a few people freeze a few feet away. You're used to this sort of reaction by now, you have people from 12 to 45 shaking and crying at the sight of Eddie - dubbed the number one guitarist in the last decade by Rolling Stone - much less getting to meet him and take a picture, which Eddie always loves to do.

Your former classmate watches in shock as the guys walk over nervously, asking if he's really Eddie Munson, like the Eddie Munson. He confirms playfully, and you accept their cameras to take a few pictures for them. He offers to autograph their arms or notebooks and starts patting his pockets down for a pen. You beat him to it, pulling out a perminant marker from your purse. He chuckles sweetly, caressing your face.

"You really are always one step ahead, aren't you sweetheart?"

He signs some pages and shirts and even a forehead before they go, thanking him profusely the whole time.

"I'm sorry-" Your classmate interrupts. "What exactly is it that you do?"

One of the guys, still straggling to get a few more glances at Eddie scoffs, personally offended by her question.

"You don't know who that is?" he demands. Thankfully, you manage to slip away to finish your errands while he lectures her on the genius of corroded coffin. Once out of ear shot, Eddie says softly, intimately close to you, "Was she the one from the prom dress story?"

"Oh yeah," you nod. "She was a real bubhosh." Eddie laughs at your middle earth insult - roughly translating to dung heap - that the two of you used to substitute any words you don't want Rosie picking up yet. Eddie is glad you pulled him away when you did, cause if he was around her much longer, he probably wouldn't have been able to resist roasting her to a crisp. Then again, with someone as incredible as you it's pretty easy to make anyone else look bad in comparison.

[itstheghostofmypast]

His Little Cowboy

(College AU) Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: It turns out that beards aren't as bad as misinterpreting a text, especially when you want to introduce your lover to your friends. Or maybe don't plan on doing that in a themed college party?

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Word Count: 2.8K

Est. Read Time: 15 min

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Rating: PG-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Linked With: 22.59

A/N: Shout out to @yessa-vie straight up digging up the cowboy pics for me. The number of times I listened to this song- @edenesth , is to be blamed.

Moving past the sweaty bodies she groaned, inwardly grimacing at the stench of alcohol, cheap perfume and oh god please don't let that be puke. This is not how she wanted to spend her weekend, but ever since that dinner where the two had confessed to each other, San had been persistent about them making a public appearance together, slight problem though- he was popular, Mr. Charming, Mr. Optimism, Mr- WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!?

With a scoff she jumped over some knocked-out dude, really leave it to Choi San to call her to a party and then not answer his phone- even so, he had wanted her to meet his friends, a very...very intimidating group of loud, popular, good looking guys, truth be told most of them already were in a relationship, which would explain why San was more persistent in giving them an official label, not that she would mind that, she loved him unconditionally, a feeling that had blossomed ever so slowly but hit her like a truck once it began to flow over, which is why...she had agreed to this stupid idea...which is why she had agreed to this...to coming here...to wearing such an outfit. 

Standing on her toes she tried to spot her lover, who was supposed to be dressed as a cowboy in black; leave it to college parties to have the weirdest theme- it wasn't even Wild West, well, it was, but they called it 'Outlaw themed'. The theme itself was off-putting due to several historical events but who was she to say no when he had asked her so politely, so quietly, with his face buried in the crook of her neck in the late hours of the night as her fingers played with his short locks, humming when he mumbled against her skin, squeezing her closer as he asked her to attend this party with him, he'd even tell her what to wear, which was odd for when she had read the text the next morning really did confuse her, but agreed anyway- God her face was so itchy- OH SAN!

"SAN!" She called out, smiling when he turned around, eyes scanning the sea of bodies for her. Waving her arm in the air she walked closer to the man in the black cowboy hat, though his eyes never landed on her, instead, he was still looking around. With a huff she squeezed past a couple and almost tripped, only to collide with his chest- bare chest? Her eyes widened at the man, hands instinctively gripping onto the attire- a cropped leather waistcoat? Staring up at him she licked her chapped lips, tugging on the coat gently as he frowned down at her, why did he look...confused? Was he...upset she actually showed up? To be honest, she didn't have time to divulge her insecurities because the vest was distracting, the tussles were caressing her face and the bandana just made her Sannie look like-

"You lost there, buddy?"

Buddy?

"We thought you were dating someone? What are you collecting little boys for- oh wait the beard means you're a big boy right, partner?" Her head whipped in the direction of the voice, is that Wooyoung? Wait, little boy...my god.

"Sannie! It's me!" She squeaked cupping his face as he stiffened, before she felt him gently squeeze her waist, moving closer to her face before his expression morphed into pure disgust- "What the hell are you supposed to be!?" He whined, ignoring the way Wooyoung had burst out laughing, not stopping when his own partner slapped his shoulder, asking him not to embarrass San and his girlfriend even more.

"Like you said! A cowboy!"

.

They had moved to a quieter area of the house, one with proper lighting and- kitchen, all of them had crowded the kitchen, with her sitting on a counter as San glared at her, arms crossed over his chest.... how could someone look so nice in such poor lighting.

"Well?"

"Huh?" 

"What are you supposed to be?" He asked in a low tone, ignoring how his friends were still snickering behind him. It amazed her how he was still towering over her, like that, kind of making her feel smaller than usual, twiddling her thumbs she mumbled "A cowboy...Sannie...you said let's go as a cowboy couple."

A deep laugh resonated from behind the man as she peaked up to find one of them, Seonghwa, who chuckled when their eyes met, only for him to give her a gentle smile, though she could see the glint in his eyes, a little teasing swirling within his orbs, but the angel, his angel, sitting next to him squeezed his hand, begging him to not make it worse.

"What- I? What!?" He gasped, arms flailing around to emphasize whatever the hell he was trying to say as she shrugged, "I SAID A COWBOY COUPLE!?"

"Yeah, and I am one."

"That usually means a guy and his girl!"

 "You realise the actual number of cowgirls was less, if not nonexistent, and usually they did all the work but got little to no credit. This is exactly why these parties confuse me, are we glorifying misogyny?" She deadpanned, pointing to her fake beard causing him to facepalm, never had he met someone so smart yet so stupid- and to think he loved her? Who's the bigger fool here?

"I love how both of you are majoring in communication but aren't able to communicate with each other."

Her lips quirked downwards at that statement, feeling the weight of it hanging in the air- oh- so he wanted her to dress up like those sexy cowgirls...well he should've just said that! Even though she would want to say no, she would have done it anyway because it was for him. That's when it hit her, he wanted to introduce her to his friends too, and while all their significant others were dressed for the occasion, she looked like a hobo, with her baggy cowboy outfit, giant hat and well...the beard. Shit. This was not good, this was not good at all, she misread the situation again- what kind of girlfriend chooses to look unpresentable? What if he thinks she did this to embarrass him- hell he has every right to be upset with her-

"What?"

The sharp tone of his caused her eyes to flicker up from her lap to his face, gut twisting at the way he had turned back to stare at Wooyoung, his cold glare making the other one let out a nervous chuckle, wait no, he shouldn’t take the anger out on his friend, especially when it is her fault for just assuming what he meant- man this beard was itchy.

“I’m just saying…” Wooyoung shrugged, before looking around at everyone, most of whom were now engaged in talking to each other or on their phones, then back at San, who was still glaring at him. Sure, he wanted them to meet his girlfriend, and sure he was upset that she chose the wrong time to misread the situation, but that did not give anyone the right to humiliate her more than she already had done to herself-

“San-ah…” she whispered, gently nudging his leg with her foot, trying to talk to him, whispering, “I can go back and change…” Nah, she was just gonna dip and not come back, probably telling him how she got abducted by aliens by leaving him a note and disappearing because this was a moment of peak embarrassment-

“Your beard’s really cool, what did you use?”

“Huh?” moving to the right her eyes met a certain blonde man’s- she’d never heard Hongjoong speak before, well that’s because in any class the two shared he’d be sitting quietly at the back, “Oh um…facial glue.”

“Woah, you glued it?” He asked, moving closer to inspect it then hummed, “Dedication.”

“I mean she did fool Sannie here,” Seonghwa added, his angel sitting next to him nodding as she hummed in agreement, “It's an A for effort, I kind of wished I went for something similar.”

“I know right!” the girl who had been glaring at her idiotic boyfriend- the idiot was Wooyoung- for upsetting San added, “I was impressed- we should’ve done this, would’ve been so cool.”

She only smiled at their kind words, a bit upset about how she let him down, but hey, at least they were enjoying it. That was all it took for the awkwardness to fade though, perhaps with the help of the other women involved, the conversation had begun to flow smoothly, each one slowly introducing themselves, most men did constantly talk about the beard, but when it came to Jongho, San’s gym buddy – who she wanted to thank because, lord bless, the way her man had beefed up, she’d make sure Jongho and San never quit being friends- he did point out how “They’re all jealous they can’t grow beards as thick as yours- you pulled it off better than most of them could too.”

The causal chatter thus turned into loud, yet fun banter, her laughter causing San, who had been quietly standing next to her, back leaning against the counter she was sitting on, to look at her, chatting with the rest of them like they had been friends for years. Truth be told he found it amusing, no he loved it, how even at this point, knowing she made a mistake she was honest enough to tell him her opinion, about how she felt about the whole theme parties- communication was never really the problem if you ask him, perhaps it was the intent to make the other happy, that would cause problems, the fear of disappointing the other. No one really said that the girls should come dressed as sexy cowgirls or cowgirls at all, and the effort she had put into the outfit made him realise how this was the first party she had ever attended. He remembers how in the earlier days of their relationship, she had mentioned how she’d never been invited to a party, themed or not, not that she would ever go to one- though he had shushed her and promised to take her to one, but for almost four years she had been avoiding it- well perhaps she said yes, this time because they were an official item now, and not just a fling. That made him feel worse, he had spent 20 minutes of her ‘partying time’, arguing with her over something so stupid. He could only sigh at the way he ended up with someone who was only book smart but an idiot otherwise, someone who was so stubborn yet so caring, someone who would try their best to meet his expectations- even if it meant glueing a beard-

“Ow! San!” she hissed, rubbing her cheek before slapping his hand away, causing everyone else to stop talking and look at their friend, who held a tuft of black synthetic hair pinched between his fingers.

“You okay, dude?” Wooyoung asked as San frowned at the hair and then back at her, mumbling, “My god, this really is glued isn’t it?”

“YAH THINK?” she yelled before snatching the torn piece from his hand as she pouted at it, “What is wrong with you~” she whined only to be cut off by Mingi, who she had learnt was one of the noisiest and nosiest friends, spoke up, “The real question is, is San going to kiss her with the beard on?”

She looked up at him eagerly, batting her eyelashes at him, his eyes widening at the realization of how she was still able to look so cute; this was the exact same look she’d give him every time she knew she was winning, when she knew he’d give into her every whim, the look that would make him feel like he was the most important thing to her in the entire universe- maybe he really was- and for this very reason his head jerked to the side as he broke eye contact, knowing if he kept looking at her for a second longer, maybe he would’ve kissed her right there and then, in front of everyone, even though he knew how public display of affection was not her cup of tea. Even if touch was his love language, he knew she’d bask in it and ask for it behind closed doors, so the kiss right now was more of a way of satisfying the people around them, a way of satisfying him, as if she were trying to make it up to him, for misinterpreting the situation, for which she would choose to come out of her comfort zone just for, just to let him know how much he meant to her- god, he really did love her. The group broke out in laughter, causing San’s face to turn red, almost the same colour as her shirt.

She reached for him, fingertips brushing against his arm, causing him to stand up straight clearing his throat as he mumbled, “I’m gonna get you something to drink, stay with them,” as he left the kitchen, ignoring the ‘boo’s’ he was receiving from his friends- he was desperate to introduce her to his circle of friends, but he also forgot how bloody annoying they could be, teasing him at any moment given, hell they had even made a big deal out of his outfit for today, claiming how he ‘was trying so hard to impress her’, adding the ‘Sannie, you know she likes smart guys- oh wait, no maybe that’s not true since you’re in the picture’.

Sighing he looked at himself in the mirror, why was his face so pink? He had been washing his face for God knows how long, trying to calm down, trying to not think about how now everyone knew about his secret little lover, how they’d steal her attention, how they’d make sure she’d be involved in every activity, which was a good thing, but he was her Sannie! How could be her Sannie with them always around- oh my god, get a grip-did he turn redder? All he did was drink apple juice- shit, he had to get her something to drink!

Slamming open the door he stumbled out only to halt at the sight of the bearded cowboy- oh his bearded cowboy who was frowning up at him, causing him to pout at her, somewhat guilty for leaving her hanging and-

“Is the beard really bothering you this much?”

“No, they’re bothering me.”

“Huh?” she looked up at him as if he had spoken French, “What do you mean? I thought they liked me?”

“They do like you.” He sighed, reaching for her hand as he began to walk towards the nearby terrace, knowing it would be empty since the party was downstairs, sliding open the door he slipped outside pulling her out with him as he made her sit on one of the outdoor chairs, kneeling in front of her on the ground as he held her hands, looking up at her, “I’m afraid they like you so much that I won’t get to be myself around you, you know?” he mumbled before placing her hands on his cheeks, causing her to giggle and squeeze his face.

“Aww, Sannie, you don’t have to worry about that, I’m just glad they don’t think I’m weird.”

“They definitely think you are weird.” He mumbled out, only for her to squish his cheeks harder, leaning down to peck his puckered lips before letting go, though he pulled her back, his hand resting at the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, holding her still as he brushed his lips against hers, “This beard is really annoying.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t kiss me with it glued to my face.” She whispered, grateful to finally have a moment of peace with him, a moment where they could just be themselves, “Next time, just come over and tell me what to wear.”

“Nah, I think I like this look on you,” He perked up, pecking her lips once more, causing her to let out a giggle, arms wrapping around his neck, about to ask him about the reason behind his choice of clothes when she was cut off, by a very noisy Mingi who’s hollering could be heard as he ran away,

“FOUND THEM! YA’LL OWE ME! HE’S TOTALLY INTO THE BEARD!”

Shaking her head in disbelief, she stood up, helping him up as well as she squeezed his hand, causing him to look at her, a pout already present on his face, dreading what was to come next, “Ready for a shit ton of teasing?”

“Not really.” He mumbled as he sighed, causing her to let out a chuckle as she dragged him back downstairs to the noisy group who was oh so ready to tease the hell out of their ‘Sannie’ and his little cowboy.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp

[vanilladove]

𐙚⋆.⋆♡ dollhouse

spooktober 2024 masterlist

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 pairing: yandere!ayatsuji yukito x fem!reader

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 content warnings: kidnapping, dollification, stockholm syndrome, a tiny bit suggestive

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 summary: an intriguing customer with an obsession for dolls visits your family's antique shop and is captivated by you, but little do you know what he has in store for you...

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 word count: 2.5k

The door to the basement clicked open, signaling that he was back home.

Ayatsuji Yukito. The man who had kidnapped you randomly and gotten away with it, because he could.

You still remembered meeting him at your parents' antiques shop, the smell of smoke wafting past you. The way his gold orbs cut into your soul, and the following shudder your body let out—looking back now, it must've been a sign, but you ignored it. How could you not, though, with how beautiful the man behind you was? When you turned around, you took in his appearance.

His messy blonde waves and his dressed-up attire—donning a white button-up, gray sweater vest, and a maroon tie tucked underneath. When he pushed up his yellow-tinted sunglasses, his eyes finally met yours. Giving you a calculated look up-and-down, he smiled like he was pleased about something.

Remembering your employee duties, you cleared your throat, "H-Hi, can I help you with anything, sir?"

He looked around suddenly, checking out all of the windows like he was making sure no one was following him. "Ah, yes, actually—" he looked back again, trying to flash you another grin like he was trying not to be suspicious, "Do you have any dolls here?"

Your eyes widened in delight; no one ever came for those, "Dolls? Yes, we have some in the back. Follow me." You motioned for the man to go down the aisles with you, but you didn't know Ayatsuji was observing you, too.

He admired your loose braid, fastened by a red gingham bow. The puffy white dress and brown leather mary janes you wore, matching the aesthetic of the store. Cute. The detective thought, wondering if you liked wearing frilly skirts and laced high heels. You'd look pretty like that, you already had such lovely doe eyes.

"Here they are, sir."

"Ayatsuji. My name's Ayatsuji, darling." He shook his head, "I'm not that old yet." You giggled from that, the angelic sound gracing his ears as you blushed from slight embarrassment. You were oblivious to the way your presence captivated him.

Your ruby-tinted lips turned upwards, "These are the dolls, Ayatsuji," you paused, noticing how he admired the ball-jointed dolls on the rack, and explained the assortment to him. His gaze wandered from the dolls to you and back and forth, and he attentively listened until you were done speaking. "Are you buying them for anyone special? A girlfriend or a younger sis—"

His golden eyes cut into you again, but not before a smirk appeared, "No, they're for me. I collect dolls."

You curiously brought a finger to your lips—he was definitiely an interesting man. "Collect dolls, huh? Most customers avoid this rack because they think they're haunted or too creepy." You turned to the side to smile again, recalling the pranks you used to play on your cousins who were scared of dolls.

Ayatsuji sighed, a coy smile still on his face, "Creepy? I don't think so. I actually find them quite enchanting. Dolls are far more intriguing than people. You never grow sick of them." You were surprised to see his face so close to yours, goosebumps crawling up your arms. He looked even better up close, and you were sure the rose coming back on your cheeks didn't hide anything.

You internally scolded yourself for being so attracted to a random customer, but you couldn't help it. Your parents had moved far away from your hometown to open an antique store closer to the city, so you didn't know anyone here. Since you already finished school and felt obligated to help your parents run their shop, you never had time to meet people. Customers were your main form of outside interaction, and hot men never came in.

You're staring at him too much. Look away. Your mind screamed at you, and you abided, coughing awkwardly. You knew it was unethical to fall in love with the first attractive man you could talk to, "I see, um, well, let me know if you have any questions. I'll be by the register—"

Ayatsuji pulled you closer, forcing your uncertainty-filled eyes to look into his again, "Wait, I have a question for you." Time stopped as he pleaded softly. You tapped his arm again, signaling that you weren't leaving. He stared intensely at the dolls again, squininting his eyes as he slowly let go of your shoulders, looking you up and down again.

"These dolls...are there any that look like you?"

You stepped away, cheeks heating up, "Wha-What?" You were startled by the way he so casually asked you that, "O-Oh, you mean any with my style of clothes?" You frantically turned back, grabbing a doll with braided hair and a white puffy dress and trying to shove it into Ayatsuji's hands, but he stopped your motions halfway.

He smirked amusedly at you, entertained by your flustered reaction, "No, darling, I mean any that look like you. With your same complexion, your pretty doe eyes, and beauty."

He spoke like a poet.

"You think I'm beautiful?" You started, not used to the abrupt compliment. "Wait, Ayatsuji, are you flirting with me?" You looked up to see the cheeky man laugh, a cocky grin still present. He nodded again, mumbling a soft mmhmm before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your pearl-adorned ears. You would be fun to dress up.

You opened your mouth, but you were cut off by the bell from the entrance ringing. "Ayatsuji! What the hell do you think you're doing here?! How did you even get past the sniper team?" An angry green-haired women in a suit stormed past the aisles towards you too, making Ayatsuji click his tongue and sigh in annoyance.

"Oh, Tsujimura, as always, you have the worst timing." He turned back to you, softening his facial expression, "Apologies our time has been cut short, darling, I would've loved to chat more with you. Can I—"

A black-gloved hand seized Ayatsuji's shirt collar and shook him aggressively, "Hello! Are you even listening to me?! I'm taking you back now!" He only swatted her hand away dismissively, making her even more mad.

His warm glance turned cold as he faced her, "I heard you the first time, alright?" He pointed to the doll in your hands, "Can I get that delivered to me?"

You were confused by the scene in front of you, but you shook your head, "No, unfortunately we're in-store only." Tsujimura fumed, about to take her wrath out on you next. You swore you could see steam coming out of her ears.

Side-eyeing her, Ayatsuji pulled you into an embrace, a sugary coffee scent filling your nose. He leaned down, whispering in your ear, "No worries, I'll come back for you, my precious doll." You froze, not expecting a hug and unsure if he was talking to you or the inanimate figure.

You felt chilly as his warm body left yours and he took his leave, waving goodbye as he was dragged out left with Tsujimura. What a strange encounter. You shoved the doll under the register and grabbed a cardigan to wrap around yourself, wondering when you'd see him again.

It wasn't until a week later, until you were closing the shop and heard the front door ring again, that you saw Ayatsuji again. Except he looked different. He was wearing a black turtleneck, black belt, and black trousers and shoes. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. It was dark since you'd dimmed most of the bright display lights. His gold eyes were all you could see, but there was a different glint to them.

"A-Ayatsuji! Y-You're back?!" You were taken aback, glad to see him but also a bit cold for some reason. He walked towards you, his boots clacking against the hardwood floor. You ran to meet him, smiling like he was your long-lost lover, and hugged him, wanting to return his gesture from before. His warm breath fanned the shell of your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Hah, I'm glad you missed me too, darling." He stroked your hair, taming the unkept strands, "Can I take the pretty doll home with me now?" Your brows furrowed. He was talking strangely again, but you pulled away to nod and crouch to get the doll from a week ago. Ayatsuji took out a smoking pipe from his pocket, taking a long hit of it before blowing it by your face. You held the doll out, trying to give the figure to him while waving your hand and coughing from the smoke which he wouldn't stop blowing in your direction. You already felt a bit dizzy, and the last thing you remembered was his smirking face before the world turned black.

You were in a cold room full of dolls. It was adorned with old paintings and a Victorian-style bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling of the glass eyes boring into your shivering body—tied to the bed with some silky lace. You tried resisting against it, but it wouldn't budge.

A mocking laugh sent a familiar shiver down your spine, coming directly in front of you. Seated in a throne-like chair in front of you was Ayatsuji, your once charming yet unsettling customer. "Seriously, doll, you really need to stop with these futile escape attempts of yours."

Setting his hat and coat on the arm of the chair, he slowly made his way onto the bed beside you, suddenly turning soft as he caressed your cheek. You hated to admit it, but his warm touch was too easy to relish in and lean into, and it had slowly become the only source of comfort in your bone-chilling enclosure. He smiled in response, "At least try to appreciate me making it pretty and cute for you."

You mumbled a quiet 'thanks' which seemed to satisfy him. He excitedly untied your lace ropes like they were nothing and pulled you into his arms, and you reciprocated his gesture a bit too eagerly.

"I missed you, Ayatsuji. Please don't leave me in here with these dolls all the time." You whimpered, burying your face in your captor's chest, inhaling his coffee-smoke scent. He only continued to stroke your hair, kissing you gently.

"Don't say that, darling—I got all these friends for you since I knew how lonely you were before." The helpless look in your pleading eyes and your needy little pouts always pulled at Ayatsuji's cold heart--he couldn't resist himself from spoiling his precious doll.

You shook your head, "It's not the same...they don't talk to me, and it's so...cold here." Of course, you wouldn't mention the short dress and thin stockings on your body—Ayatsuji took care in picking out different dolly outfits and playing dress-up with you.

He tilted his head innocently, "You're cold? Ah, maybe I should gift you a puffy coat and leg warmers? So you look like one of those pretty slavic dolls?" He cupped your face excitedly with his big hands, scanning your figure up and down with a piercing gaze, "Yeah, you'd look nice like that."

You nodded frantically—anything to cover your exposed skin, making Ayatsuji giggle. "Doll...you know your clothes aren't cheap, right? Especially because I get them tailored to your body..." Your heart started beating. Fast. Ayatsuji always did this--offered something he somehow knew you were in need of in exchange for some sort of affectionate favor. It was all a plot to make you slowly become more dependent on him. And it always worked.

You placed your hands on his chest, getting ready to plead for something nice, "W-What do you want this time? A kiss? Homemade dinner?" You blushed, remembering the times you'd gotten more intimate, "Or se—"

He placed a finger to your lips, "You missed me today, so how about just a sweet little kiss?" He flashed you a caring smile while he leaned back against the head of the bed and patted his lap.

You exhaled shakily, becoming a bit too conscious of what you were wearing. You slowly made your way onto Ayatsuji's lap and pushed his bangs away gently. You told yourself that these acts of affection were just performances, but you started to question how much of it was an act and how much was through your own will. You certainly couldn't stop yourself from shivering when his hands teased your thighs, or the shaky breaths that left as he started drawing circles on your cold skin.

Bringing your face closer to his, you whispered, "I love you, Ayatsuji. Thank you for taking care of me." You dipped down and caught his lips with yours, kissing him passionately as his hands made their way up to wrap around your waist. Your mind was screaming at you not to indulge your kidnapper any further and to pull away, but his touch felt too nice.

You went further, loosening his collar and kissing down his neck. Ayatsuji groaned, pressing you down further against his lap. He felt so warm. "A-Ah, doll, you're so needy today." He pulled you away to gaze at your slightly glassy eyes, which were focused on him only. He started fiddling with the hem of your frilly dress, starting to place light kisses on your collarbone.

You felt cold again suddenly, so you looked up. A bony doll with black eyes was glaring at you shamefully, like it was disappointed in how easily your heart caved in to your captor.

Feeling your body still, Ayatsuji stopped and looked up to see your gaze wandering to the sides of the room where his other dolls were. "Doll—"

"Ayatsuji, how is my family?" You gripped his shoulders and looked back at him, but his face seemed more stoic now. "Are they...still looking for me?" You yelped as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

"Darling, you're not supposed to worry about them anymore." He sighed dejectedly. Your eyes widened again when he squished your cheeks and pulled your face back down. "Dolls should just look pretty and give all their attention to their owners, right? You know that, don't you, love?" He shook your face softly as tears threatened to spill and the warmth left your body.

"Awww, don't cry and ruin your makeup, doll. Don't you still want that coat?" He pulled you down on his lap again and stroked your hair while wiping the drops forming by your eyes, careful not to smudge your eye makeup. He kissed near your ear before whispering into it, "Just keep kissing me, okay? You're so close."

You felt broken, but you couldn't disobey him. He was the only one looking after you now, and you knew you couldn't escape him. Shaking slightly, you placed your lips back on his, holding onto him for dear life. He exhaled blissfully again, happy you were back to being compliant.

"Like that, doll. I love you so much, you know? Just stay with me and don't think about anything else."

[harmonyrae]

Devil in the Mirror

I could not sleep until I wrote this... Don't usually write for Raf, but his Abysswalker fit & vibe absolutely ruins me. So... enjoy!

Synopsis: Abysswalker inspired Assassin Rafayel works non-stop. A contract unaliver and artist, who knew he'd be so damn busy. A big job is around the corner, but tonight, he's relaxing. He didn't intend on meeting the most gorgeous girl and getting swept away in the heat of the moment. But there's an unforeseen complication...

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death & explicit sexual descriptions. 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.9k

Playlist: RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic I wanna be your slave - Maneskin The Death of Peace of Mind - Bad Omens Swim - Chase Atlantic Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter

The water finally turns pink as the blood rinses off your skin. You grab the small brush from your kit on the counter and start brushing it over your fingertips. The blood underneath splatters against the porcelain. You finally reach for the soap to do a final wash before taking a paper towel from your kit and drying your hands. 

You carefully undo the clasps of your mask and wipe it off haphazardly before tossing it in the duffel bag by your feet. You inspect your face, a few specks of blood frame your eyes. As you run a hand through your hair you feel a clot catch on your fingers. 

“Damn… he actually got me?” 

You grab a large plastic tarp, placing it on the shower floor before turning on the water. Unbuckling your leather vest you glance into your kit to see a small suture pack. You place it on the counter before placing the vest in the large trash bag already holding your gloves and overcoat. The skin around your ribs is already starting to bruise, but at least the gash across your chest has stopped bleeding. 

As you unbutton your pants, you hear a faint buzz from your room. You slip the blood coated pants off and into the bag. Right before you slip off your underwear you hear your ringtone. Specifically, your “work” ringtone. 

Run, baby, run, run for your life I'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

You know exactly who it is and you know he’ll give you an earful if you don’t pick up and give him an update. You stroll into your room, the mini-fridge already rummaged through, bottles scattered on the TV stand. The hotel is paid for by your client, fuck yes you’re going to rack up the bill. After this job you needed a little buzz to settle down. You grab your phone before stepping up to the window looking down over the busy city. Linkon this time of day was always a shit show and you loved watching the chaos. 

Father, please, she’s perfect in your design

You chuckle, you’ve made him wait long enough. You swipe to answer.

“Thomas, mah boy.” 

“Took you long enough Raf. Do you have an update?” His voice strained, like always. One day you’ll ask him why he took this job to begin with. Until then, you’re glad he has stuck around.

“It’s all good. Easy. Bit messier than I intended. Guy was massive! You could have given me a heads up!”

“I DID! You never read the briefings… Did you need a clean up crew? Or a doctor?” 

“Nah, I handled it. And I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up. I’ll be back at the house tomorrow.”

“Actually…” 

“You’re kidding… Thomas…” You whine knowing another job is coming your way. Right before your event. 

“The client is offering a huge payout and said they’d consider contracting you permanently if you pull this off.” 

“Puh-lease if I pull this off? Are they joking? They know my work, right?”

“They do. I mean, they called the best in the business, didn’t they?”

“Fair. Deadline?” 

“One week from accepting the job.”

“Target?”

“A hunter, top tier apparently.” 

“A hunter, huh? That’s new. Client solid?”

“Very. Big corporation. They even sent a down payment to try and persuade you. Check your account.”

“No need, I don’t care about the money.”

“Check your account Rafayel.”

You sigh dramatically before pulling the phone away from your ear. Clicking your banking app, it automatically logs you in and displays the balance. Holy shit. You don’t care about money. You have more than enough. Your art career is doing well and your… bonus job… is very lucrative. But this is crazy. 

“A down payment of 10 million?!” You shout into the phone.

“Told you. I can send you the details if you want to consider the job.” 

“Send them tomorrow. I need a break tonight. Go ahead and tell them I’ll take the job.” 

“Oh one more thing, they do have a clause for no completing the job. It’s… intense. Are you sure you don’t want to read the details first?”

“Nah, I always finish the job. Now please, I beg of you, don’t disturb me anymore tonight.”

“Wait! Rafayel, don't forget the art exhibit tomorrow night! Journalists are hounding me for interviews and I promised them you’d be there.” You are a literal assassin and Thomas handles your kill contracts and he still gets more stressed out about your art exhibits. This man is something else. 

“I know, I know. And why did you promise them?! You know I hate doing interviews!”

“Raf, please…” You know for a fact he is pouting. How dare he use your tactics against you.

“Fine. Good night Tommy.” You hear him huff before you hang up. He hates when you call him that. So you always do.

You toss your phone on the bed and grab the small bottle of Kraken Black Spiced Rum before heading to the shower. You open the bottle, flicking the cap off and taking a swig before pulling off your boxers to hop in the shower. Bright red water pools on the tarp as the stream hits the wound on your head.

“Fuck…” 

The pain settles in and you take another long swig in an attempt to numb the throbbing at the back of your head. You set the bottle on the small bench in the shower before grabbing the soap and scrubbing your body diligently. Once you’re satisfied and every tiny speck of blood is gone, you focus on the bloody mess on your head. The water has started to run pink, so most of the clotted blood has rinsed away. 

The gash is not too deep and there’s no glass in the wound. That asshole really wasted a perfectly good bottle of Brandy trying to stop you. Cute. After that, you made sure his end was some of your best work. Satisfying honestly. 

Once your head wound is rinsed out, you turn off the shower and grab the towel, tying it around your waist. You grab the Rum bottle before stepping out. You stare at yourself in the mirror as you take another sip. At least he didn’t slash your face, facial scars are sexy, but you still didn’t want one. At least not yet.

After disinfecting the wound you carefully place a few stitches, closing it. Holding a gauze pad over it to dry, you head back into the hotel room to pull out a pair of dark jeans and a loose fitting button up. Nothing fancy for tonight. You’d be working up a sweat and doing your best to get properly drunk. You don’t get many opportunities to slip into a club unnoticed so tonight you wanted to be very low-key - a foreign concept to you but still the goal.

You slip on a clean pair of boxers and the jeans, shrugging on the cream colored shirt leaving it unbuttoned as you head into the bathroom. You carefully roll up the tarp and place it in the plastic bag. You take your time cleaning up the bathroom counter. Tossing the bloody gauze and empty disinfectant bottle away, pouring an entire bottle of bleach in the sink and shower. 

Running a hand through your dusty purple hair, you take in your appearance. You look good. Not great, being so tired, but good. The pink in your eyes catches the light, helping hide the exhaustion with the bright contrast. You button your shirt, leaving most of your chest exposed. You roll up the sleeves to your elbows and secure your bracelets before slipping on your laceless boots. Your phone slips into your back pocket with your wallet and you’re off.

The walk to the club is about 10 minutes, perfect for people watching and admiring the night sky. The bright lights of the street lights drown out the moonlight. You shove your hands in your pockets and count the cars passing by. You round the final corner before seeing the club across the street. The neon pink and blue lights pulse along to the base you can feel under your feet. The line is long, very long. 

You jog across the street and lock eyes with the bouncer. He nods at you and unclasps the barrier rope to let you pass immediately. The grumbles of waiting patrons reach your ears and you giggle to yourself. After painting a mural for the club owner, you always get the VIP treatment. Immediate entry, free drinks, private booth. Perks of being famous. You hate to love it.

The bar is packed, but you nod at the bartender and she motions for loitering patrons to make room for you. You hop up on a stool as three men leave, thank god, you have some breathing room. You lean forward on your elbows and flash your brightest smile.

“Avery, looking gorgeous as usual!” 

“Ever the flatterer Raf. What can I get for you?” Avery leans on the bar towards you, inching closer and you catch her glancing at your mouth. You make out with a bartender one time and now your lips are her addiction. 

“My usual if you please, cutie.” 

“One Rum and Coke coming up.” Avery winks before swinging her raven hair over her shoulder and turns to start making your drink.

You glance around the club, noting the exits and counting the security guards. A lot more security tonight. Probably has something to do with the increased Wanderer activity. They’re not hunters, but most club goers won’t think that far ahead. Your eyes scan the dance floor, you recognize a few people. A few artists who come to every exhibit you host, a handful of club regulars who you’ve hung out with before and maybe one or two one-night-stands. Okay, cool, will be avoiding that side of the dance floor. 

The lights change with the song, shades of purple wash over the dance floor. A light passes over a dancer in the middle of the floor. Damn. 

She was always dealing with the devil She was always into taking those chances, yeah

A girl swaying to the music, her sparkling dress catching the light as she moves. You’ve seen movies like this and you half expect time to slow around you. Fuck, why does it feel like time is slowing… 

Avery sets your drink down in front of you and says something, but you can’t focus on anything other than her. You pick up your drink and take a sip, not taking your eyes off the girl. She locks fingers with her friend and they dance together. 

She’s high She lives in the sky Tonight, she’s satisfied

She flips her hair over her shoulder, her strapless dress showing off her stunning chest. No matter how many sips of your drink you take, your throat is dry. Setting down your drink, you clear your throat and rest your head on your hand. Not bothering to pretend you aren’t staring.

Rolling back her eyes But then, she starts to cry Everything is turning to black

She glances over to the bar and locks eyes with you. Fuck. You can’t look away. No backing down now Raf. She smiles and doesn’t look away. Shit. You smile back and rub your thumb across your lip - was that sexy? Jesus. You never get this flustered over a woman. Like ever. So what kind of spell did this woman put on you? She glances down at the floor before looking back up at you. Wait, is she looking at someone behind me? Oh god. You turn and look over your shoulder. The patrons behind you are all facing the other way. When you look back at her, she’s giggling, her hips still swaying to the music. Wow. You can’t help yourself, your eyes trail down over her body. Her toned arms and legs on full display, her short dress hugging her curves, her hair smooth as silk, a few strands sticking to her back from the sweat she’s built up from dancing. 

All in one night She just went to heaven and back

And then the best, and most terrifying, thing happens. She starts walking towards you. You immediately face forward and blink at least 100 times, surely. When you look back, she’s still walking towards you, a sexy smirk plastered to her face. You take another sip of your drink silently praying you don’t say something stupid or that your voice cracks. 

She slides onto the stool next to you. She keeps her eyes on you. Avery appears in your peripherals.

“What can I get you hun?” 

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” For fucks sake, her voice is… beautiful. Sultry, soft, smooth. 

Avery turns and starts to prepare the drink. The woman leans her head on her hand, matching your position. Her smile turns wicked. She 100% can tell you’re nervous right now.

“So what’s your name, pretty boy?”

You shift in your seat, your blood is rushing directly to your cock. Goddamn. You need that blood for your upstairs brain. You chuckle trying to play it cool. 

“Rafayel. Or Raf, whatever you prefer, cutie.”

“Rafayel, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” Your name on her lips… Yeah, you’re completely under her spell now.

“Likewise, Y/N.”

Avery sets down a Rum and Coke in front of her. She nods at Avery and picks up the drink bringing it to her lips. She takes a sip and pulls back, closing her eyes tightly. 

“Damn, that is strong. Is yours that strong?” 

You chuckle and slide your glass to her.

“You’re welcome to compare.” 

She doesn’t hesitate. She picks up your glass and takes a drink, her lipstick leaving a print on the glass. Her eyebrows raise as she looks at the glass. 

“Hmm… yours is balanced. Maybe the bartender was feeling generous with mine.” 

You glance over at Avery, her cheeks are definitely flushed. She sees the way you are looking at this woman and she is definitely staring at her. You sigh and return your gaze. 

“Generous is one word for it.”

“Jealous is another, yeah?” 

How? How? How is she in your head? You can’t help but laugh. She is spot on after all. Before you can think of how to respond, she has her hand on your knee. She squeezes gently.

“I don’t mind a little competition.” 

You are not going to survive. You don’t have a will written up. Who is going to get all your money? Thomas probably. He’s going to be so mad at you for missing the exhibit tomorrow. You aren’t even wearing designer brands, you’re going to die looking like this? It could be worse. You could be naked. Well, that wouldn’t be so bad.

“Rafayel?” 

Her voice brings you back to reality. Fuck. Real smooth Raf. Good work.

“Oh… aha… yeah, sorry. Competition, right. You don’t mind? You… So you like challenges?”

She giggles at your struggle to get the words out. She leans forward.

“I love a good challenge.” With that she grabs your hand.

“Woah, where are we going?” 

“To dance, pretty boy.” 

You follow her to the dance floor, she goes straight back to the center. Her grip on your hand tightening as more people start crowding around the DJ booth. The DJ drops another track and the lights start pulsing faster with the tempo. 

I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters

She finds an empty spot and turns towards you, she guides your hands to her hips before placing her hands over your shoulders. She pulls you closer as she clasps her hands behind your neck. She starts swaying her hips, letting her head bob to the beat.

I wanna be a good boy, I wanna be a gangster ‘Cause you could be the beauty and I could be the monster

You match her movements, your grip on her hips tighten as you pull her closer. The music fades into the background as you stare into her eyes. She giggles, her smile sending your heart into a panic. You smile back at her, letting the music and movement relax you. The booze finally heats the blood in your veins. Or maybe it’s just how turned on you are that’s making the room almost unbearably hot? 

She suddenly turns around, she presses her ass against you, her hands cover yours on her hips. As she starts grinding, all attempts at trying to keep a cool head come to a screeching halt. She leans back and looks over her shoulder. Her hooded eyes sparkle as she bites her lower lip. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You hold your breath feeling her hips sway and grind against your painfully hard cock. There’s not a doubt in your head, she definitely feels it against her ass. She doesn’t stop and her head falls back against your shoulder. You bring up a hand to run your fingers across her collarbone. You move her hair off her neck and press your lips close to her skin, making sure she can feel your breath. The goosebumps you feel rise across her chest confirm she does. 

Your other hand rises to her stomach, pulling her completely flush against you. She brings her arm up and grabs onto the side of your neck, her fingers playing with your hair. You can feel her breathing getting more and more unsteady. Your lips finally touch her neck and she fully stretches her neck out to give you full access. Gentle kisses turn to bites and licks, marks already appearing faintly all over her neck and shoulder. The room feels empty - it’s just you and her. And then you hear her moan quietly against your ear.

“Raf… fuck…” 

And I’m a killer who’s searching for redemption I’m a motherfucking monster who’s searching for redemption

“Want to get out of here?” You whisper in her ear as the song ends.

“God, yes.”

The door to your hotel room slams against the wall as you stumble inside. You’re not even in the room before she’s kissing you, her lips feeling like heaven. Soft, sweet, a hint of alcohol on her tongue. She bites your lip as she pulls you into your room. You kick the door closed and walk her backwards to the bed. 

Your fingers pull the zipper of her dress down. She’s already unbuttoned your shirt and pushes it over your shoulders. You reach back to pull it off and throw it to the floor. Her shoes kicked over to the corner, her dress hanging off her body. You reach up and pull it down, as you work the dress down her legs your mouth dives into her bare chest. She steps out of her dress just as you reach the bed. 

She falls back on the bed, her body glistening with sweat, her lipstick slightly smeared. You know you have it all over your face and chest since she couldn’t keep herself off of you on the walk to the hotel. You unbuckle your belt and unbutton your jeans, pushing them and your boxers over your hips. You kick your shoes and pants off before meeting her gaze. She lets her eyes trail over your body, stopping to take in your cock. You’ve been dying to address this little - well, aha there’s nothing little about it - now is not the time for jokes. Your head is swimming with how you ended up here with this gorgeous girl. 

She leans up on the bed and wraps her pretty little hand around your cock, stroking lightly before picking up the pace. Your head falls back. Holy shit. You squeeze your eyes closed. There’s 100 things you want to do to her, but hearing your name roll off her tongue over and over is at the top of the list. 

“Ah- fuck…” 

You look down to see her mouth around your leaking tip, her tongue tracing circles. She continues to pump you as her mouth opens wider. She sends her tongue over you rapidly before settling in to push you towards the back of her throat. Your hands fly to the back of her head, grabbing fistfuls of her soft hair. She’s so fucking bold. She gags lightly, but then she finds her rhythm. She bobs her head and lets her teeth lightly graze your shaft. She grabs onto the backs of your thighs as she moves. She moans against you. Her mouth feels insane wrapped around you. Every muscle in your body relaxes and you let her set the pace. She could do literally anything to you at this point, fuck, she’s a force of nature.

She brings her hands around to squeeze your ass, earning her a gasp from you. She did not just grab your ass?! The audacity. You’ll never admit that that was very hot and may have been the key to your undoing. She giggles, the vibrations pushing you to your limit. How the fuck is she getting you there so fast? It would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so right, so good. When her hand finds your balls, massaging them gently, you have absolutely lost it. 

“Damn… cutie, I need to- fuck… ahh-”

She takes a sudden breath and sucks, hard. Nah, you are done for. Ruined. Conquered. Your release coats her mouth and when you feel her swallow you stop biting your lip and moan aloud. Her hands move to caress your thighs. She continues to suck and trails her tongue over your tip, gathering every ounce you gave her. When you look down at her, she locks eyes with you as she lets your cock slip out of her mouth. Her chin is coated with your cum, she licks her lips. She smiles as she takes in, what you’re sure is, your very fucked out face. 

You reach down to pull her up to her feet. She wraps her arms around your neck before your lips crash against hers. You can taste yourself and the burning in your stomach grows. You need her, you need to be inside her, you need all of her. You hook your thumbs along the band of her panties and tug them over her hips before dropping them to let them fall to the floor. You lean her back on the bed slowly. She carefully scoots back as you crawl over her. Before you can lower yourself, she places her hands on your chest and pushes. She rolls you over and swings her leg over your torso, she straddles you and, god, she’s perfect. 

Her hands feel your chest, dragging her nails down your abdomen. You tighten your core at the sensation. You hear her giggle before she leans down to capture your lips. She pushes against your lower lip begging for entrance, who are you to deny her? She damn near fights with your tongue. You know she’ll win, but she did say she likes a challenge. 

Her hand has reached down between her legs to grab a hold of your cock, once again rock hard. What is she doing to you? She’s effortless, you’re so desperate for her. Not a soul will ever hear you say that. Well maybe her… And then you find yourself whimpering exactly that.

“Fuck I’m desperate- ahh- for you…”

WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?! You weren’t actually going to say that what the hell… She smirks down at you, her eyes shimmer in the stream of moonlight shining through the window. She glides your sensitive tip along her clit slowly rolling her hips.

“Now’s the time, pretty boy. Make me scream for you.” 

Your eyes widen and the intensity you usually reserve for your kills surfaces. You say a silent prayer to, god knows who, that you won’t hurt her. You grab her hips and pull her forward, you reach down and move her hand before wrapping your own hand around your cock. You press your hips upward, your tip tucked into her. She gasps, falling forward she plants her hands on your chest. You slowly push down on her hips, stretching her slow and steady. You let go of your cock and settle your thumb against her clit. 

“You’re so- wet for me- shit…You like me that much, cutie?” 

Your words are rushed as you struggle to breath, she’s clenching so tightly around you your mind is turning to mush. She digs her nails into your chest. One of her nails catches the edge of the cut you patched up earlier. What you thought would be agony is euphoric. The pain causes you to thrust your hips up and you bottom out. 

“Raf- fuck oh god- Rafayel!” 

She screams your name and it is everything you could have wanted, needed, desired, dreamed of. You keep rubbing her clit, harder and faster, her gasps guiding your pace. Each thrust of your hips she matches by rolling her hips. She’s so tight and you feel your tip hitting her deepest sweet spot. 

“You’re close- shit- you’re so close aren’t you, angel?” 

You reach your hand up to palm her breast, she’s so fucking soft, except for her nipples. You cup her breast and press your thumb to the peaked bud. You roll your thumb up and down, slowly at first, letting it flick back to pointing straight out. As you move faster, she reaches a hand up to press against yours.

“Rafayel, RAF, shit…” 

She screams again and you feel a warm rush against your cock. She stops rolling her hips, too overwhelmed to ride out her orgasm. You bring both of your hands to her hips and rock her through her high, your thrusts more desperate now. The pressure building is dangerous, you’re close too. She leans back and puts her hands on your thighs, her head thrown back, your name rolling off her tongue over and over - just like you wanted. 

She’s beautiful, radiant, confident, sassy, bold, direct… And you found her dancing in a club on a random Thursday? You believed in fate, but never depended on it. But now? Fuck. Maybe you should go all in. Your chest tightens as you reach your peak. Jesus. You feel her release and yours mix and slide against your cock, it leaking out of her as she moves up and down. You reach down and coat your fingers. You reach up and use your thumb to pull her chin down.

“Open.” She does as she’s told.

“Good girl.” 

You put your fingers in her mouth and she moans as she licks them clean, releasing them with a soft pop. You return your fingers between you and gather more, bringing them to your lips this time. She watches you lick your fingers like a goddamn popsicle, she presses her hands to your chest once more. And as soon as you finish licking your fingers clean, she wraps her hands around your neck pulling you upwards. Her lips are hot and heavy against yours. Now who’s desperate? Thank god… It’s so much better being desperate for each other. So much hotter. 

As her hip movements slow, your thrusts follow suit. Her kissing becomes sloppy as exhaustion takes over. You feel yourself slipping out of her. You gently lift her off of you and sit her on your stomach. You wrap your arms around her back and roll her over. She relaxes into the mattress, your weight holding her still. You place soft kisses all over her face, watching as her eyes slowly close. 

“Raf…” 

“Shh, sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

She smiles before leaning up to kiss you one last time before settling in to rest. You carefully roll away from her and get up. You grab a blanket off the couch in the corner and cover her up. You make your way to the bathroom, but before you make it you hear your phone ding. Jesus Thomas. You grab your phone and then head to the bathroom. 

You splash cold water over your face, running your hands through your hair. You clean yourself up with hotel towels and get a few ready to take care of her. You grab your toothbrush and squeeze a drop of toothpaste directly in your mouth. As you brush your teeth, you open your phone to glance over the contract details Thomas sent through. 

A basic contract killing. No witnesses, easy. Plant evidence, poor sap named Xavier is gonna catch the charge it seems. What the fuck? Retrieve her heart? Who the fuck is this client? Why did they want her heart? Not that it’s any of your business. You’re just not used to doing fucking surgery after a kill. First time for everything. Okay, locations, she has her own apartment, no roommates. Consequences for failing the job… What in the actual fuck does “you don’t want to find out” mean? You can take a guess, but hello??

Your toothbrush hits the floor. Your blood runs cold as ice. It takes you a full minute to realize you’re not breathing. You gasp for air, your phone hitting the counter as you reach out to steady yourself. No fucking chance.

Target: Y/N

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

This is a one off, but I could see doing a long form story with this. Also, writing Rafayel's inner dialogue had me rolling so I wouldn't mind. Tell me if you'd read more... Thanks for reading!

[louloulemons-posts]

Jealousy

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie likes you, but you’re with Harrington, right?

Word Count : 1.9k

Warnings : Not Proofread, fluff, stoners, use of weed and alcohol, the stranger things teens actually acting like teens lol, swears, cuteness, ft Nancy, Robin, Jonathan and Steve, jealous eds this was wrote a 3am so the spelling is probably atrocious.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Every time I tell you to bring a jacket and every time you’re like, ‘No Steve I won’t get cold’,” he spoke, mocking you as he did.

“I’m not cold, you’re the one freaking out!”

“You have goosebumps, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he said, throwing his blue jacket at your head. Smacking you straight in the face. “I honestly question why we’re still friends sometimes.”

“Guys let’s go,” Robin moaned, stood waiting for you. “We’re coming,” you said, jogging up to her, linking arms. “It’s fine just abandon me. Don’t worry about it,” Steve shouted.

“Okay,” you said in sync, laughing to yourselves. “Hey guys!” a familiar voice spoke. Eddie walked over to you, dressed in his normal attire of denim vest, jeans and leather jacket. Cute.

“Munson, you made it,” Steve said happily, “Now I won’t have to spend the night being bullied by these two demons.” You linked your free arm through Eddies, “You’re right! You can be bullied by the three of us.”

“I hate you all,” Steve groaned.

“You know you love us,” Robin said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “So are Wheeler and Byers meeting us there?” Eddie asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, Nance had work so they’re coming a little later.” He hummed in acknowledgement. You began chatting with Robin as you walked, the four of you still linked together.

You didn’t notice the curly haired boys eyes on you, well actually what you were wearing to be specific. Harringtons jacket. Just like a few days ago, you stole his yellow jumper, untying it from his waist.

It broke his heart, he’d always liked you, never got round to telling you. He couldn’t. He was Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You were everything. Your friendship was enough for him, but seeing you, watching you and Steve.

“You good?” you asked him.

“Oh yeah I’m fine, you?”

“Peachy!” you smiled up at him, making his heart flutter. “How’s your uncle Wayne?”

“He’s doing well. He told me to tell you he’s willing to pay you to make him more of that banana loaf.”

You laughed at that, “I’ll make sure too, no payment necessary though. He’s a nice man.” Humming again in agreement.

Robin spoke up, “This looks like a good spot, clear enough to see the fireworks.”

There was some huge celebration for Hawkins happening tonight. Fireworks, a party, the whole big sha-bang. You guys decided to have your own little party, some food, snacks, pot, and good company.

Steve threw a blanket down on the floor, “Nance said she’s bringing another with her,” he explained. You were sat by Lovers lake, it was so peaceful this time of year.

The orange skies reflecting off the still water. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” you asked turning towards Robin.

“Smile!” She said, pointing her camera towards you. You did as she said smiling and posing.

“Perfect!” She grabbed the photo and began shaking it so it would develop. Eddie smiled at you as you mimicked her shaking, the pair of you ended up dancing as she did.

Finally the picture was clear enough to see, “It looks great, you look pretty.”

“Aw thanks Robs,” you smiled, kissing her cheek.

“Anyone want a drink?” Steve asked, pulling out a few beers. “Throw one,” Eddie spoke, catching the can in one hand with ease. He sat down one the blanket, stretching out his long legs.

“Hey you, leave some room for the rest of us,” you spoke, plopping down next to him.

“You’ve got plenty of room, I’m a big guy, let me be comfy.”

“Okay big boy you take all the room you need.” You looked to your can, pulling the tab to open it, not realising how Eddies face flushed.

“Hey Eddie did you bring the good stuff?” Robin asked. “Obviously, I’m not gonna bring gross shit. I’m smoking too.”

“Oh so if you weren’t you’d give us weed that tastes like ass?” Steve asked.

“You know what ass tastes like Harrington?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the boy smirked.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Hey guys!” Nancys voice came from behind you. You scrambled up to hug her, “Hi!” she smiled to you.

“Hey Nance, Jonathan how are you?” you smiled at him.

The pair of you began quiet conversation, you’d always liked him. Just like Will, they were sweet kids, not surprising with a mom like Joyce. That woman had a heart of gold.

But later on you stood by the waters edge, watching it ripple as the breeze blew. You rubbed your arms, it was a bit cool, and getting colder as the sun disappeared.

“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’ll throw you in the fucking lake,” you said aloud.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Could smell the hairspray.”

“You’re horrible.”

“But you love me.”

You wrapped your arms around Steve’s middle, his going around your shoulders. “You good?”

“Mhm, stealing your warm.”

“Great so you’ve stole my jacket and warm,” he sighed, but didn’t let go.

“You guys ready to smoke?” Eddie asked, making you look up from Steve’s neck. He almost sounded annoyed? “Yeah!” You smiled at him, walking over to re-join the group.

Plonking yourself down between Robin and Eddie, you hummed in contentment. Eddie pulled out 2 pre-rolled blunts, handing one to Jonathan and keeping one himself.

The pair lit them and took the first inhales, smoke coming out of their noses. “Steves definitely gonna pull a whitey, he’s already drunk!” Robin laughed.

“Why am I friends with any of you?”

“Cause you love us,” you said in a sing-song voice.

The metal head offered you the blunt, not meeting your eyes as you thanked him. Taking a drag you, feeling the tickle of the smoke against your lungs.

The blunts were passed between the six of you and soon enough the first pop and boom was heard in the sky. Red and blue danced against the darkness, leaving you all in awe.

More and more fireworks began to appear, in the starry sky. They were so beautiful. You sighed, resting your head on someone’s shoulder, too stoned to really care who.

He cared though, knowing he’d need something a lot stronger to not care about you. To not feel like his heart would burst out of his chest as you laid there, smiling at the sky.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t keep falling for you. Keep loving you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on him. Or Steve. God you had a boyfriend and you were here with him like this.

Nudging your head with his shoulder slightly, he stood up, brushing down his jeans. Excusing himself and walking away from the five of you.

Cocking you head your eyes followed after the dark haired boy. Wondering what was wrong. After a few minutes you decided to follow after him.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie~” you called out for him. “You okay? Why’d you go away?” You giggled at your rhyme. Soon enough you found him, his back to you.

“Hi,” you spoke, walking closer to him. He was stood at the waters edge. “You okay? You wandered off.”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Thought you were just taking a leak, but you were gone agesss. Got worried.”

“Why?” he asked genuinely, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. “Uh cause you’re my friend, and I like you duh.” He hummed at you, and you bumped his shoulder.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it Munson, I’m an open book right now, so this may be your only chance.”

“How long have you and Harrington been a thing?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw slack, you were stunned. “You don’t have to tell me, just curious. You suit each ot-” You put your hand on his mouth, “Edward Munson you finish that sentence and I will projectile vomit.”

He looked concerned, worried you were about to pull a whitey. “Shit we should get you home.”

“No! I’m fine it’s just,” you laughed, “Eddie, Steve’s my cousin.”

He was now the stunned one, “What?”

“He’s my cousin.”

“But your … your last names.”

“Our moms are sisters,” you explained.

“But I thought, he’s so protective of you, and you’re always wearing your clothes.”

“He nags me like a big brother. He’s only a few months older than me, but god he’s annoying.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it. You were cousins. Which made so much sense. So much fucking sense.

You were laughing, “Have I lost you?”

“W-what no! I’m right here.”

“Can I ask you a question now?”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you ask me if I’m dating him?”

“Oh I um … you know. Curious friend.”

“Mhm, sure. Well,” you began to walk back towards the others, “Just in case your curiosity gets the better of you, I should probably just tell you,

“I like you too. I think we should go on a date.” Eddie looked at you in awe.

“How did you know?”

“Kinda obvious. I was waiting for you to ask me out, been dropping hints all the time. It really went over your head.”

You smiled at him. “You dropped hints?”

“All the time. Always asking to hang out, linking arms, laughing so loud at all your jokes, calling you, baking for you, coming to see your band. The list goes on. I like you Eddie.”

“I like you too.”

“I know,” you laughed.

“Take off the jacket.”

“What?”

“The jacket. Take it off.”

You did as he said, pulling off the blue material. Goosebumps instantly covering your skin. It was soon disturbed as Eddie put his leather jacket over your shoulders.

“Suits you,” he smiled, you matched it.

“It’s cosy.” It smelt like him, weed and his woody aftershave. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I hope you know you’re not having it back.”

“That’s fine by me. You look pretty in it.” You cheeks flushed at that, “Thanks Eds. So umm we should get back to the others.”

“Sure, but first, I need to do something.”

Before you had time to ask what he had cupped your cheeks in his ring decorated hands. Connecting your lips to his own. They were soft against yours, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face.

Kissing him back you deepened it, pulling him closer by his curls, making his groan slightly. Tongues dancing and bodies on one another, you didn’t hear the twig crack behind you.

“My eyes! Oh my god my fucking eyes!” You heard a shout, breaking away from Eddie. Steve was rubbing his face, doubled over. “Here I was thinking you were in danger but no you’re sucking face!”

“Oh my god Steve shut up,” dropping your face into Eddies chest in embarrassment, he hugged you and chuckled into your hair. “No! I’ve just seen my baby cousin, BABY cousin with a tongue down her throat. Gross!”

“Sorry Harrington, we’ll keep it PG around you.”

“You better Munson,” he said walking away from the pair of you. Breaking into laughter, Eddie brushed hair out of your face.

“Well he’s gone now so,” he leaned back down to kiss you. “Nope! Nope nope nope,” Steve ran back, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from Eddie, taking his jacket back too.

The curly haired boy cackled as he heard your whining as Steve dragged you, and his own complaints at how gross you were. Following behind, grin on his face, this may have been one of the best nights of his life.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Appreciates Taking Things 'A Little Less Seriously'

The actor caught up with L'OFFICIEL at the CFDA Fashion Awards to discuss wearing Thom Browne and his transformative roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice.

by Carrie Wittmer

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Photography: Ryan Lowry Stylist: Michael Fisher Grooming: Amy Komorowski

On camera and off, Sebastian Stan is always aware of what he is wearing, whether he's suited up as the Winter Soldier in Captain America or sporting jeans and a T-shirt on a day off. The actor— who stars in and is winning over buzz for his transformative performances in A Different Man and The Apprentice—represented Thom Browne at the 2024 CFDA Fashion Awards on October 28 in New York City at the American Museum of Natural History. For the event, Stan wore a full Thom Browne look: a classic ticket pocket tuxedo with self-tipping in black, 3-ply mohair; a knit vest in black cashmere; a classic button-up shirt in white oxford; a necktie in black silk faille; and penny loafers in black patent leather.

In A Different Man, Stan plays an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis who has facial reconstructive surgery that dramatically alters his appearance. In The Apprentice, Stan plays former President Donald Trump in a film that follows his rise to power, focusing on his mentor-mentee relationship with lawyer Roy Cohn, portrayed by Jeremy Strong from Succession. Stan received critical acclaim for his performances in both films, and is now a likely contender for the upcoming awards season.

At the CFDAs, Stan told L’OFFICIEL about his look for the night, his connection to Thom Browne, and how clothing and costumes impact his performances. Read on for the interview.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Tell me about your look for the CFDA awards.

Sebastian Stan: Thom Browne’s take on black tie-not traditional, polished in a new way and comfortable while being structured. I appreciate taking things a little less seriously, especially during awards season. I love my straight tie and knit vest—less serious, but certainly not less appropriate.

L'O: How would you describe your off-duty style? What do you wear on a day off?

SS: Jeans and a tee shirt.

L’O: What character that you’ve played is most likely to wear Thom Browne?

SS: Carter Baizen would wear the hell out of a Thom Browne suit.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Your roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice are very physical performances... and so is Bucky Barnes. How do you approach creating a character’s physicality?

SS: It all actually starts from the inside out. Muscles have memory. We wear our pains, our pride, our truth: the ones we project and the ones we keep hidden from the world. It all depends on what’s driving somebody…The need for love, the need to be heard, the need to prove, the need to hide, etc. Everything influences how you move and you walk. Obviously when you’re playing real people the clues are already there to study. Like an instrument. With something like A Different Man, there’s a backstory and the prosthetics influenced everything. Similar with Bucky Barnes. His past is always in his body.

L’O: How do clothes and costumes enhance your performance?

SS: I love costumes because they speak for themselves. When you walk in a room immediately people look at you and what you’re wearing tells a story. The choices one makes in terms of portraying themselves to the world are very revealing. So costumes are a big piece of the character before any words are even said. They also influence the way you walk. I’m particular about shoes. What kind of shoes a character wears. Sneakers make you walk a certain way boots a totally different way. Maybe you stand up taller as a result and so on. Same with clothes. A suit affects everything. So does a pair of jeans you’ve lived in for a decade.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024