#i miss the good parts of glee

[vaguely-concerned]

I was going to have rye maaaybe start to buy into solas' whole johnny silverhand deal a little bit more in the post-weisshaupt talk -- to Progress the Arc tm/set up the beginning softening in that relationship and heighten the effect when it eventually goes. quite another way entirely -- but the sheer spectacular cruelty in hindsight of 'at least you still have varric to talk to' is such that considering where I'm intending to end up with this narratively, the stoic 'not here to make friends you fucker gimme your intel' option is simply irresistible. gotta have that echo rattling around rye's head forever when he decides that you know what? I have had enough of being nice, actually. I do want to go ape shit. someone hold my coat for me please I have some work to do and I don't want to stain it. guess for now the ol' watcher training & instincts are still kicking in enough for them to treat solas like a tricky spirit you should treat with respect and good intentions, but also shouldn't be out there offering little fingers to unless you have a whole arm lying around to spare haha

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[januaryembrs]

ahhh can I ask for a drabble for sunshine reader x Spence when they're out with the team at a bar or something and reader is obviously a clingy and giggly drunk?

MY BABY'S SWEET AS CAN BE | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

description: Spencer's girlfriend loves karaoke when she's drunk, but she loves him even more

length: 1k

warnings: literally just fluff

He smiled at her unabashedly as she flitted through the crowd, the top of her head bobbing in between other patrons as she shoved through the sea of bodies, and he heard the odd “Excuse me, oh I’m so sorry, excuse me, Sorry-scuse me,” which let him know the mop of hair with two little bows in it was exactly who he thought it was. 

Not that he’d need to try hard to find her, his eyes hadn’t left her all evening. She had a tendency to get upset if they got parted when she’d had a couple to drink, and he hated the look she got on her face when she welled up and felt sorry for herself. 

She burst out the throng, her eyes quickly scanning across the group, and Emily barely had time to hand her a Frozen Daiquiri before she’d launched herself where Spencer leaned against the bar.

“Honey! Oh, I missed you so much,” She said, immediately homing into his waist, her ear pressing against his chest where his heart beat particularly loudly, because whatever affectionate streak she carried on a day to day basis was dialled to one million when she got like this. 

“Baby, I saw you five minutes ago,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nevertheless and running his large, warm hand down her spine where her backless dress gave him free rein to feel everything. 

She looked up at him with an aghast stare, “You didn’t miss me, too?” 

“Oh, I never said that, now did I?” Spencer asked, his words sweetened with his smile, and adoration stained every single syllable like coffee over clean breath, “Did you have fun?” 

She giggled, leaning to steal a quick kiss, and her hand brushed over his stomach to pinch the soft pouch of fat gently, “I did! Did you see me, I totally outsang Luke,” 

“For the last time; karaoke is not a contest, we’re supposed to be singing together,” Luke said, his forehead sweaty where he’d pushed through the crowd himself trying to keep up with her as she’d bolted off the stage to get back to her spot tucked under Spencer’s arm. 

She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes when he gave her a more obscene gesture, and turned back to where Spencer had yet to rip his eyes off her, his pupils dopey and wide and full of puppy love as she looked at him. 

“He’s just mad becaus he wanted to sing Beyonce’s part, and I made him be Shakira,” She said on chuckled breath, “But I think our cover of Beautiful Liar could top charts, like, nationally,”

“Ofcourse, I reckon you could go global if we got you a good agent,” He humoured her, and her eyes lit up with glee, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the point he almost spilled his beer. But he didn’t care, he just loved seeing her so happy. 

“Really! Really, really?” She asked, quickly stealing another adoring kiss from his lips like she could only go so long before she needed another one to fuel her words, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it as there was little to no pause in her end of the conversation. 

“Well, sure,” He said, his mouth interrupted when she pecked him again, and he wondered if she genuinely understood they couldn't kiss and talk at the same time with the way she was going, “But, if my sweet girlfriend becomes a popstar sensation overnight, who’s going to be there when I want to do this?” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingertips caressing the dip of her back, already knowing which moles sat beneath his touch and where, as he gave her a real kiss, one that made her squeak a little and the sound of it forced an even bigger smile out of him. 

He parted from her reluctantly, and he didn’t even care that he usually didn’t like PDA all too much if it meant she would look so content and glowing, her eyes creasing as she sighed with a besotted expression. Spencer never thought he would get so lucky to have anyone look at him like that, never mind someone who he loved with his whole entire being, and everything else left of him. 

“You raise a good point, my genius love,” She said, pressing her burning face into his sternum, her hands still never leaving where they’d buried into his waist, “I guess I’ll put my debut album on hold and stay to kiss you some more,” 

“Will you guys stop being so disgustingly sweet, it’s making my punch taste sour,” Penelope said, even though the team didn’t seem to mind their soppy exchanges. Spencer sometimes seemed like his old self again when he was with her, something boyish and teasing and loving returning back to his rough hands and exhausted expression, and for that the two of them could rip each other's clothes off for all they cared. 

Because they were one of those couples that made everyone else feel lucky to just see that kind of love so close, not envious or repellent, like finding a fawn sleeping on your doorstep. It was rare and pure and warmed everyone right through to their marrow. 

The two of them smiled at one another, and she leaned in to steal a few more kisses from his lips that tasted faintly of beer, only for another song to start playing and she gasped, her mouth dropping in excitement. 

“I love ABBA, we have to sing this song together!” She said, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his stubborn, lithe figure over to the stage, “Please, Spencer, please, please, please,” 

And he gave her exactly what she wanted, because when could he ever say no to a face like that. 

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2024:

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Meet Me In Dreamland by sinflower81 - E, 39 chapters, Words: 229,631 - If there’s one thing Hermione Granger is good at, it’s using magic to fix her problems. And this time, her problem is sex. Luckily, she has the perfect solution: a locket enchanted with the Patented Daydream Charm. Whenever she opens it, she’ll find herself in Dreamland, where she can live out all her filthiest fantasies risk-free. The magic is a bit tricky, though. For some reason, Malfoy keeps showing up there with her. Thank goodness it’s only an illusion—if that was really him, she would never live it down. Meanwhile, Draco is determined to figure out who the fuck is cursing him to suffer through highly realistic, erotic hallucinations of his secret childhood crush. When he finds the culprit, there will be hell to pay.

The Missing Sister by singularritae - M, 75 chapters, Words: 652,727 - The owl appeared late at night and left just as suddenly, he recognised the handwriting immediately and ripped open the envelope. She is yours. If something happens to us, I want you to hide her. Name her Hermione, for she will have my last libation before I sleep and be the messenger of dreamers. Moony and Mary know. Three words. Three words that forever changed the course of the war.

A Gallows Marriage by MilaBelle - E, 31 chapters, Words: 162,244 - “Glee was the last thing she felt staring into the empty eyes that should have been a bright grey. His face had always looked pointed and sharp, but now that gave way to gauntness. His hair, which he had been so particular about in school, hung long and limp. It reminded her of how his father had looked in his mugshot. How he had wanted to be just like his father growing up. And now he was, maybe more than ever. A ghost.” After doing more than her fair share in saving the Wizarding World and bearing the scars of what it cost, Hermione Granger thinks she has earned herself a little respite. But when a charismatic albeit chaotic Theodore Nott convinces her to use an old law to save a dear friend who is about to meet the Dementor’s Kiss, she simply cannot stand by and watch. Follow Hermione as she navigates a world that still believes in blood status, a marriage to save the life of an old enemy and the hurt that comes with surviving.

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Mind the Bump by Soap1 - E, 28 chapters, Words: 84,050 - Hermione Granger and her colleague (and, though she sometimes hates to admit it, her friend) Theo Nott, are busy at the Research Institute for the Alchemical Sciences, working together on an innovative, though secretive, project that more than one person might like to get their hands on. She doesn't have much time for dating, and certainly isn't ready to think about starting a family. But after an exciting, though unexpected, one-night stand, she finds herself pregnant. With Draco Malfoy's baby. As her research continues, as her pregnancy progresses, will she be able to make room for Draco in her life?

Détraquée by Hystaracal - M, 108 chapters, Words: 728,097 - "All her growth was the conveying of a corpse of hope." (From 'The Rainbow', D.H. Lawrence) This is a story about coming into one's own, a meditation on the twilight of girlhood and the violence of crash-landing into womanhood. Follow Hermione as she navigates through the quagmire: Saving the world, getting top grades, falling in love, lust, and a whole lot of trouble, and comes out of it hopefully (at least) partially sane.

[keferon]

Bonus part 1.5 that got lost in drafts. Deadlock and Hot Rod play catch with the brain cell.

———————————————————————

Yep.

Deadlock had lost his mind.

And he knew that for certain because the concept didn’t bother him anymore.

The humans were both out cold by the time earths sun came creeping behind the tree line. Deadlock didn’t quite get back into recharge that night, but he still felt oddly refreshed come morning.

It’d gotten uncomfortably warm (for a cybertronian) inside the hangar so Deadlock slipped out into the cool morning air. Finding a relatively dry spot of pavement to take a seat and watch the sun slink higher.

Speaking of which.

“I know you’re there little squishy.” Deadlock purred in his best Decepticon drawl, the sort of tone that made lesser mechs rethink their current life choices.

The field of mischief that had prickled his back was dampened by disappointment before immediately springing back to happy.

Hot Rod gave up on being sneaky and climbed onto his leg.

“Eh, I’ll get the drop on you again some other day.”

Deadlock opened a palm in offering and grinned at Hot Rods immediate look of glee. He was a lot smaller than Ratchet. More wiry.

“How was your. . . uh,” Deadlock tapped a claw trying to remember the human equivalent word. “Sleep! Stuff.”

Hot Rod snorted while inspecting his claws.

“It was good! Had a nightmare a huge alien was eating the shatterdome at first and I was naked but then Pow Pow!” He punched in between Deadlocks fingers.

“A huuuuge mecha came down and WHAM.” Hot Rod jumped from hand to the other, acting out some sort of wrestling move. “It totally wiped the floor with it. Pretty sure it wasn’t you or me because the paint job was mostly white.” He rolled into a crisscross position.

“And I think I wasn’t naked anymore? At some point I started eating pancakes too.”

“Sounds like a pretty good nightmare.”

Deadlock was lightly bouncing Hot Rod in his hand, getting a feel for the weight, when felt Hot Rods field slowly tighten and loose some shine.

He stopped and Hot Rod looked up at him. “Did anything. . .else happen?”

“Mm, no. Well, yeah.” Roddy waffled, picking at the seam of Deadlocks thumb. “I dreamed I was eating pancakes with my brother.”

Deadlock moved his thumb across Hot Rods lap. Partially because the picking kinda hurt but mostly because for Deadlock, doing came easier than saying the right thing.

He leaned over the offered thumb and relaxed into the feelings of happy and sad. “I miss him.”Rod laughed once, field getting lighter. “He constantly tried to Dutch oven me as kids but-“

Hot Rod suddenly straightened up and looked him dead in the optics, searching.

Before Deadlock could explain himself for messing with his field, or thinking about slapping him across the hangar, or whatever other faux pas his processor could drum up for reasons why Hot Rod was looking at him like that-

Hot Rod dissolved into an absolute fit of manic cackling, slapping a hand against his palm.

“Wha- why are you laughing?” Because Deadlock really needed to fragging know if humans could suddenly read minds or else living with Ratchet was going to get very awkward quickly.

“You- he he,” Hot Rod wheezed, “you both have the same big-ass eyebrows!”

Deadlock stayed stock still. Processor taking a click to catch up. Soon his plating was shaking with the effort of not laughing. Eventually, the assassin comprised for snickering.

Hot Rod recovered quickly, laying flat on his back, humming interspersed with residual giggles.

“Knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Deadlock got a hold of himself and lifted the little pilot to optic level. On a whim, he closed his fist around Hot Rod, as gently as Ratchet taught him, and when he didn’t find any discomfort in his field, turned him upside down.

Hot Rod grinned and wiggled his feet, onboard with whatever game they were now playing.

“Why do you trust me?” Deadlock mumbled, curious.

“Well for starters Ratchet trusts you.” He pointed out the obvious.

“Hmm, he’s a lot more cranky about getting picked up though. And he definitely wouldn’t let me dangle him like this for no reason.” Deadlock tilted his head to look at the human from a more leveled angle.

“Ratchet, let’s you pick him up?” Awe and disbelief radiated outwards.

“Well, yeah?”

“Dude.”

Okay yeah, fair argument.

Deadlock rolled Roddy back upright, releasing him. He made a bowl with both hands which Hot Rod took as invitation to start rocking back and forth.

“Okay, okay. That’s a pretty good reason for you to trust me. But why should I trust that you won’t blab about me to someone who shouldn’t know?”

Hot Rod stood up and leaned against one thumb, leveling a look at Deadlock. “Ask me about the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

Deadlock raised a totally normal sized eyebrow.

“Hoookay. What’s the most embarrassing moment of your life?”

Hot Rod looked him straight in the optics with an unwavering field that exuded pure assuredness.

“It once took me 45 minutes to make non-flavored half-cooked instant noodles.”

Deadlock reset his optics.

“What?”

“Do you believe me?”

“What? I- yes? Why did you tell me that?”

Hot Rod started moving back and forth across his hands, pushing off of his raised thumbs.

“Because! Everyone who ranks above me back at base think they’re smarter than me, so whenever I gotta lie about something I just make up something even stupider than whatever I’m actually doing.”

“So what’s stupider than playing with a giant metal alien you met yesterday?” Deadlock had started raising and lowering his hands to give Hot Rod more momentum.

“Makin’ ramen again.” Hot Rod started adding somersaults into the mix.

“For two days?”

Roddy paused, doing a handstand. “I have a reputation.”

He fell backwards and landed on his feet on Deadlocks other hand.

“I mean, I’m best known for piloting the world’s biggest fire hazard, so ya know.”

Deadlock was thoroughly enjoying his new fidget toy, so much so he almost lost concentration on the conversation.

“Hmm, but your built for that yeah?”

Hot Rod picked up some speed, excited picking up in tandem.

“Oh yeah sure. Now my mechas built for that. But the first time I caught on fire it was by accident and in the middle of a fight.” He paused, grinning at Deadlock with a look a little more wild than usual. “I won by the way.”

The pilot alternated between somersaulting, sliding and swinging back and forth while not breaking conversation.

"So you caught on fire and just kept fighting anyways?"

"Yup! Turned out to be an awesome way to get out of any grapple instant-“ Hot Rod huffed, tucking into another roll, "-taneoulsy!"

———————————————————————

Missing part I wanted to write but hadn’t had the full concept for before. I really love writing for Hot Rod and the constant whiplash he gives everyone around him

Please if you want to laugh so very hard watch this video https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MWQndxwG7yA

-SSTP

Ah fuck I didn't plan to catch any more feelings today BUT HERE I AM NOW APPARENTLY AHAHAH You are SPOILING US AREN'T YOU

Seriously though. You write them in such a fun way. Your fics are always. Fucking. Literally force my face to smile jajkfkhmhv they are packed with serotonin how dO YOU MANAGE TO DO THAT?? Roddy and his sillyness is literaly contagious. Deadlock is doomed. Me and all of us too. I'M FINE. I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT YOUR FICS SEE??

Also I definitely didn't spend half an hour mentally looking through every character I know trying to see which one of them would be Roddy's brother

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[izvmimi]

cw: smut, minors dni. brat!reader. angry sex that turns soft. not really infidelity but a little targeted flirting on the part of reader. female anatomy for reader. f! receiving oral. penetrative sex.

“You’re getting way too good at getting on my damn nerves.”

The door to your hotel room is barely closed by the time he starts his tirade, but neither of the Itoshi brothers are particularly known for having any type of manners, and the current state of affairs is that you’ve successfully pissed Rin off the entire night. It doesn’t help that Rin’s kind of a crybaby, and his beautiful eyelashes line red-rimmed eyes right now; in fact his whole face is red from embarrassment, and as you kick your high heels off, he’s glaring at you with aggravation, hands balled into fists.

“So?” you ask flippantly, turning to him with a flourish in your satin, form-fitting dress that seems to practically mock him. You don’t intend to spin that joyfully but it works for you tremendously. After all, Rin takes himself far too seriously and it’s your God-given task to cut him down to size. Flirting with his brother - well, barely so - has worked wonders for you. Rin is now so hot he’s practically ripping his shirt off at the collar as he tries to loosen it, and you plop onto the king sized bed in practical glee. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve provoked him like this and it works every time.

You don’t have to do much. Just a few heavy lidded glances in Sae’s direction, a little too much interest in whatever the asshole has to say, letting your eyes linger on his drink then on the curve of his lips for a little too long, shrugging when Sae disrespectfully asks you, right in front of his brother, if you’re willing to spend time with an actual athlete before declining.

There will be a point in time where Sae’s advances towards you result in his face drenched in sweetened alcohol, but for now, when Rin’s waffling about how much you mean to him despite being desperate for your attention, keeping you on his arm for event after event, you don’t have to be his ride-or-die.

But you can ride him. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to prove but if you keep fucking playing with me, you’re going to end up biting off more than you can chew.”

He’s a lot of talk and a lot of energy as he tears off your panties, but he’s the one with his face shoved into your folds just moments later, sliding his tongue up and over and along every part of you, lapping up your cream like milk, drinking up your squeals and moans like sweet ambrosia. His arms are practically wrapped around your lower half, dragging your hips up to his face as he sucks and swallows, spitting on your clit the lesser half out of disgust, the greater half out of sheer desire. Face still covered in your slick, and practically drooling, he takes your lips in his mouth again and kisses fervently, pulling your leg around his waist as he descends on you.

“Stop acknowledging him,” Rin hisses. Your back arches as his cockhead presses first against your entrance, missing first before he re-steadies and slips inside you, biting your lower lip as they pull back in a wince. Your fingers claw into his bare back as he claims you, a shudder leaving his throat as he nestles inside you, warm, inviting, his, oh so necessarily his.

“Stop worrying about him,” you hiss back. “Focus on me.”

Your eyes narrow as they meet, but he’s softening as you look at him. The first few strokes into your center are fast, harsh, quick in the snap of his hips, but the next ones, with his eyes slowly filling with adoration as he watches your reactions, the scrunch of your face and the lust in your eyes as they roll back, are slow and tender. 

“Focus on me,” he whispers now as he rolls his hips against yours. “Be mine.”

Be mine, be mine, be mine. He kisses your neck, marking you with each press of the lips, each squeeze of his fingertips on your flesh, and he wishes you would scratch and claw your name into his skin if only it means he’s definitely yours and only yours and you’re only his, forever.

[wifelivvyx]

his taste.

The moonlight streamed through the tall windows of Hogwarts’ corridors, painting the stone floors in soft silver hues. The castle was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of whispers and stifled giggles echoing through the halls. You and Fred Weasley darted around a corner, your footsteps muffled by your haste and the thick stone beneath you.

Fred was already laughing under his breath, his hand gripping yours as he tugged you forward. "Come on, slowpoke! We’ve got a whole castle to conquer tonight."

"Conquer? More like evade!" you whispered back, your voice betraying your glee.

The two of you had spent the better part of an hour sneaking around the castle, challenging each other to increasingly ridiculous dares. First, Fred had dared you to steal a chocolate frog from the kitchen without waking the house-elves—a feat you had proudly accomplished. Then, you had challenged him to levitate a suit of armor just outside Snape’s classroom without making a sound. Naturally, Fred had taken it a step further by enchanting the armor to do a little jig, which had sent you both running when the clanging echoes nearly woke the whole floor.

Now, the two of you were on the run again, the thrill of mischief buzzing through your veins.

"Did you see the look on that bloody armor’s face?" Fred whispered, his voice shaking with laughter.

"Armor doesn’t have a face!" you shot back, trying not to trip as you kept up with his pace.

"Exactly! That’s what made it so priceless!" Fred’s laugh was muffled as he slowed, pulling you into a dark alcove. His grin was wide, his hair tousled from the rush. He looked utterly carefree, like a kid who’d just gotten away with pinching the last biscuit at tea.

Leaning against the wall, you tried to catch your breath. "You’re going to get us both expelled one day, you know that, right?"

Fred waggled his eyebrows. "Ah, but what a way to go, eh? Admit it—you’d miss this if I wasn’t around to spice up your nights."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. "Spice up? That’s one way to put it. I think I’ve got a permanent adrenaline rush thanks to you."

Fred pretended to bow. "You’re welcome, your majesty."

Before you could retort, the sound of distant footsteps echoed down the corridor. Both of you froze, exchanging wide-eyed looks.

"Filch!" you mouthed, your pulse quickening.

Fred grabbed your hand again, his eyes alight with mischief. "Come on, love. Let’s give him the slip, yeah?"

He didn’t wait for a response, tugging you down the corridor with him. The two of you ran, biting back laughter, dodging through the maze of halls like you’d done it a hundred times before. When Fred spotted a small door to the side, he yanked it open and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you just as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

The broom closet was dark and cramped, the faint scent of wood polish and broom bristles filling the air. You were pressed against Fred, your shoulder brushing against the handle of a broomstick as the warmth of his body seeped through your robes. His hand was still clasped in yours, and you could feel his chest rise and fall with each silent laugh.

"Think he’ll find us?" you whispered, though you could barely contain your own laughter.

Fred leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Not a chance. We’re way too good at this."

You snorted softly, and Fred clamped a hand over your mouth, his own laughter bubbling up. "Shh! You’re going to get us caught!"

You swatted his hand away, the corners of your mouth tugging upward. "Me? You’re the loud one, Weasley."

Fred’s face was just visible in the faint light filtering through the crack of the door. His grin was as cheeky as ever, but there was something else in his eyes now—a softness that made your breath hitch.

The laughter faded, replaced by a silence that buzzed with unspoken tension. Fred’s gaze flicked down to your lips, and you felt your cheeks flush. The small space seemed to shrink even more as the air grew heavier, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

"Fred," you whispered, barely audible.

He didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both tentative and electric.

his hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, fervent, as though he’d been waiting for this moment forever and couldn’t hold back a second longer.

Your breath hitched as you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his jumper to pull him closer. Fred groaned softly against your mouth, the sound low and full of longing, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers slid into your hair, tangling there as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

There was no hesitation now, no teasing or playfulness. The kiss was raw and consuming, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. Your back pressed against the rough wooden wall of the closet as Fred leaned into you, his body flush against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest matching your own.

Your hands trailed up to his shoulders, your fingers curling into the fabric of his robes. He responded instantly, one hand leaving your hair to grip your waist, his touch firm and possessive. The closeness, the intensity of it all, made your head spin.

Fred broke away just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark with desire, searched yours, as though seeking reassurance.

"Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice rough and unsteady.

Instead of answering, you pulled him back to you, your lips meeting his again with renewed urgency. This time, it was you who deepened the kiss, your hands sliding up to cradle the back of his neck. Fred groaned again, his grip on your waist tightening as he pressed you harder against the wall.

The kiss grew hotter, more desperate, each movement filled with an intensity that left no room for anything else. It was as though the rest of the world had melted away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, tangled together in the dark.

Fred’s lips trailed down to your jaw, then lower to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You gasped softly, your head tilting back to give him more access. His hands roamed, never lingering too long in one place, as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of you.

"Bloody hell," he muttered against your skin, his voice a mix of awe and longing. "You’re driving me mad."

You laughed breathlessly, your fingers tugging at his hair to bring his lips back to yours. "Good," you whispered, your voice barely audible against his mouth.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss continued, both of you lost in each other, the outside world forgotten. It wasn’t until the distant sound of footsteps returned that you both froze, reality crashing back like a cold splash of water.

Fred pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged, his face flushed. His lips curved into a crooked smile, his fingers still resting lightly on your waist. "Looks like we’ll have to finish this another time," he whispered, his voice laced with both regret and promise.

You nodded, your own breath uneven, your heart still racing. "Yeah," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Another time."

[joequiinn]

When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part i | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Warnings & Notes | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

Author's Notes | Sooo, this was supposed to be a oneshot for Halloween, but the plot got away from me, and now we've got a big fic. Due to the premise and time period, Eddie may be ooc, but I tried my best to make him fit the era, and the vibes are so worth it!

WC | 10.3k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“The way you walked was thorny…”

August 1900

The Talbot Estate was a wonder in the late summer, its grounds awash with blooming colors of calendulas and borages, of dahlias and cosmos. To you, it seemed the soil was rich with magic and splendor, for how could the hands of man ever maintain something quite so beautiful? It couldn’t be the hard work of the groundskeeper, always watering and weeding, slaving away under the hot sun for the sake of your family’s gardens - no, it was clearly the power of fairies or sprites that grew the flowers so vivid and the trees so high.

Although the extensive gardens were forever stunning, you favored the surrounding fields as your playground instead, the wild and untamed things far more exciting than the lavish flowerbeds and neat rows of vegetables. It was the rolling hills and woodlands of the seemingly endless Talbot Estate where wonder truly lied, although many days you may have been the only one to see it. Surrounded by the tall grass and wildflowers and imposing trees, you were an explorer - not a mere girl of eight, but a true adventurer of the world, awaiting her next great discovery.

When the days were warm and the sun was high, you could always be found skipping over tangling tree roots or lying amongst the wild helenium. And such is where you were found this lovely August afternoon, snuck upon by the groundskeeper's ward, Edward, the only person in the entire world perhaps more rascally than yourself; or so you thought, as your whole world had only ever consisted of your family grounds and the nearby town of Hawkins.

“You’ll be stung to death if you lie here all day.” The boy’s playful words startled you out of your lazy reverie, having been soothed nearly to sleep by the buzzing of insects around your head. He plopped down to sit beside you, his knobby knee bumping your leg with impatient, childish glee. With a smile wide enough to show off your two missing teeth, you sat up eagerly with a stretch of your arms, your dress wrinkled and the hem stained green from the grass; grass so tall you were both hidden from sight, like two predators stalking their prey.

“The bees wouldn’t dare sting me, we’re good friends.” You argued, delighting in the way Edward grinned back at you and your fanciful way of thinking. He made a conspiratory look, that familiar face he always pulled when he was about to share a tall tale - Edward had always been a storyteller, and you the ever attentive listener.

“You think of them as your friends?” He leaned forward, and so you did the same, coming close enough that he could whisper his closely guarded secret, “No, they fool you. Their queen has it out for you, you know, she’s instructed they play nice to lull you into a false sense of security.”

You giggled into your dirt-covered hand, Edward’s eyes twinkling at how easily he could amuse you, “And what does the queen have against me?”

Although he was only nine years old (nearly ten, he had a habit of reminding you recently), Edward had such control of his face that sometimes you thought he was ninety. His expression became gravely serious, he looked around as if fearful the bees may hear the two of you, leaning even closer while cupping his hand around your ear to keep those pesky eavesdroppers from listening.

“She is jealous. You are like Snow White, ‘a thousand times more fair.’”

Your cheeks grew hot, so easily charmed by Edward’s words; you hid behind your hands, smile large and eyes shining. His own ears were pink despite the proud, confident look on his face; you stared at one another, both nearly too embarrassed to speak.

“Eddie, you are a terrible liar.” You said with a grin, nervously picking at the grass by your feet, getting its threads stuck beneath your fingernails.

“Liar?” He questioned mischievously, “But it was no exaggeration.”

You stared at your feet, unable to look him in the eye. You were too young to truly understand the vastness of emotions blooming between you two this past summer, to know exactly the words for why you looked upon this silly boy as if he were the sun. But you were intelligent enough to know that you felt for him differently than you had before, to know that perhaps this was some child-like semblance of puppy love.

You carefully glanced up at him through your lashes, another conspiring look passing between the two of you, “If you’re caught speaking like that, Edward Munson, they may force you to marry me.”

With a charmed smile, Edward shook his head, eyes alight as he stared back at you, “Oh, Ms. Talbot, I don’t think they’ll allow it.”

“Good.” You said defiantly, rising to your feet and dusting off your skirts, useless as it may be. You squinted against the sunlight as you looked across the fields; your family estate in the distance was like a foreboding beacon, one you quickly turned your gaze from, “Marriage wouldn’t suit me, I have the whole world to see, and a husband would simply hold me back.”

Edward stood with you, the breeze ruffling his hair as he stretched his arms up in the air, fingers splaying wide as if he could brush the clouds in the sky, “But do we not have the whole world here at our fingertips already?”

You two shared an innocent smile, and without a word of warning you quickly spun around and began traipsing through the flowers and weeds, happily going along knowing that Edward was sure to follow. His footfall was merely a step behind you, although with his long legs he could very easily surpass you in stride should he choose. But dutifully he allowed you to lead, and so you pumped your arms and legs a little faster.

“And what is here that I can’t find out there?” You questioned eagerly, bursting out of the grassiest part of the field which neighbored a small pond, one of many scattered about the expansive Talbot Estate. Bugs skated across the water’s surface, a bird glided past your head, a frog croaked somewhere from within a log.

“I’d bet there’s acres of this land that you haven’t seen.” Edward challenged, and you wondered if he’d grown taller recently - why did it feel as if you had to crane your head to look at him more than you did yesterday? You crossed your arms with a smart look, suspecting that he knew something that you didn’t, if that mischievous twinkle in his eye was any indicator.

“And you have?”

The excited smile that overtook his entire face was only confirmation that he had something to share, some new discovery that he was certain you’d absolutely delight in, “Do you know there’s a chapel on your family’s grounds?”

You made a curious face, having never heard about it before. Where could it possibly be hiding, and why had you not previously known of it? You shook your head with disbelief, although you were certainly eager for Edward to follow through and reveal this chapel’s secret hiding place to you.

“If we have a chapel, why hasn’t my father ever shown it to me?” You asked defiantly, debating that perhaps Edward was trying to trick you.

He gave the kind of noncommittal shrug that only a child could, his face showing annoyance that you didn’t believe him, “Maybe he doesn’t know either.”

“But he knows everything.” You argued with silly logic, causing Edward to laugh a little. That was the difference between eight years old and nearly ten years old, the difference between wealth and poverty - he’d stopped believing that his father knew everything long ago.

“I’ll show you.” He insisted stubbornly, although the light in his rich brown eyes gave away his excitement. Your own innocent expression grew wide with exhilaration, eager to see this supposed chapel with your own two eyes.

All it took was for you to nod once, and Edward grabbed your hand, running clumsily over rocks and through brush towards the most northern end of the Talbot property. It wasn’t an easy area to trek, less kempt than the rest of the estate, trees growing taller and wider as it edged along the expansive forest. Perhaps that’s why you’d never seen this chapel, as the northern property seemed far and wide, intimidating even the most adventurous of small children.

But with Edward’s companionship, the journey was exciting, full of wonder and endless curiosity. Eventually, you tugged your hand from his own, struggling to keep up with his longer legs, although you didn’t dare stop moving, else you might lose him amongst the brush and trees. You two laughed at nothing, simply happy for each other’s company, running and running for what felt like an eternity.

The roll of hills slowed you down, the tangle of branches caused brief pauses, but eventually Edward came to a stop, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His cheeks were splotchy pink as his chest moved quickly, and you yourself had to sit upon a stump thanks to the burning of your calves. From your vantage point, you looked around, a chapel nowhere in sight, and you very nearly whipped your disappointed gaze onto Edward, to scold him for tricking you like this.

That is, until you finally saw it.

Peaking over bright green leaves, a stone spire just barely protruded, practically lost among the foliage. You gawked while rising back to your feet, both shocked and excited to see that Edward was, in fact, speaking the truth. The two of you shared a look, his face satisfied to be proven right, and you once more smiled from ear to ear before stomping down the hill to find the rest of the building.

The chapel stood derelict and decrepit, clearly forgotten about after what must have been a long time. The bricks were covered in moss and lichen, ivy crawling its way up corners and railings, abandoned birds’ nests littering windowsills and the belfry. Even from here, you could see that parts of the roof had caved in, that pieces of stone had worn away from the hands of time.

But curiously, the flowers appeared well-kept, planted fresh in spite of the chapel’s abandonment. It was a flower you recognized from your books of botany, although you weren’t quite certain yet which plant it was - amongst your books there were many beautifully drawn depictions of purple flowers upon sprawling stalks. What would compel someone to return to this ramshackle structure simply to maintain its blooms, you wondered.

You and Edward shared a look of both fear and excitement - although it was unspoken, you both had the sense that you weren’t supposed to be here, and that sent a buzz through your entire body. There was something daunting about the chapel, perhaps something even dangerous, and yet the thrill of that risk was all too gripping to ignore.

You tried to put on a brave face, even as you reached for Edward’s hand again; you held your chin high as if to hide your nerves, acting as if you grabbed his hand not for your sake, but for his. And he said nothing on the matter, squeezing your fingers in his own for reassurance, the both of you slowly approaching the imposing structure.

Those curious purple flowers kept your attention as you drew closer, the way they were planted all around the edges of the chapel - they were practically four walls of their own, a fence of sorts as if to adorn what was housed inside. Drawing closer, Edward reached his fingertips towards the enchanting petals, but you tugged at his other hand, as if the imminent danger suddenly jogged your little botanist memory.

“They’re poisonous.” The words fell delicately from your lips, Edward giving you a quizzical look as the pair of you stopped. You studied the flowers with trepidation, shrinking away from their reach, “Wolfsbane.”

Of course you should have remembered that sooner - your father had an entire encyclopedia of poisonous plants that you found far more fascinating than all the rest. You’d always had an interest in plantlife, even before you could read, so as you grew your father showed you the corner of the library dedicated to such a subject, allowing you to marvel over the pictures while tripping over the Latin names scrawled upon the pages. That book of poisonous plants was one of your favorites, perhaps because of all the beautiful colors that masked the dangers lying just within - but you were too young to read into the deeper meaning of that.

Edward continued the trek forward, tugging at your hand so that you would follow. When you reached the rotted, termite infested doors, he gave a firm push, but they wouldn’t budge. With a determined furrow of his brow, Edward looked around for another way in, but even the shattered windows were too high for you to safely climb. So, he tried forcing the door again; it was once you began to help that it finally began to scrape along the stone floor, the sound grating to your ears as the two of you huffed with each insistent push.

Finally, there was enough space for the two of you to slink inside, and you shared a daunted look with one another now that the path was clear.

“You go first.” You whispered, and Edward’s eyes widened a little, affronted at your instruction.

“Me?”

“Eddie, please.” You requested, swallowing nervously. You looked around, as if fearful that you’d be caught now that you’d gotten this far into your journey.

Edward sucked in his lips and looked at the gap in the door, into the imposing darkness, debating if it was too late to turn back now. He slowly returned his gaze to you, as if afraid that if he turned his back on the dark, it may swallow him whole.

“Hold my hand.” He requested, and you obliged without question or hesitation. You both pressed your backs to the door, shuffling in one right behind the other, feet carefully gliding as you went together into the foreboding chapel.

Despite the fearful drumming of your heart, you were put at ease by sunlight streaming in through the deteriorated roof and ruined windows. You exhaled deeply, sharing another look with Edward as you unclasped your clammy hands.

“Nothing to be afraid of.” He said with ease, as if to calm the both of you down. The corner of your mouth pulled up in a weak grin before you finally looked around the small chapel around you.

The floor was littered with dust and debris, scattered with feathers and leaves. The pews were in tattered pieces, the podium left abandoned on its side; one iron candelabrum still stood tall, melted wax molded upon its holders, but its brethren had fallen much like everything else. You gasped a little at the sight of bones near your feet, but held in the desire to shout with disgust. But then your eyes caught a dried, coppery trail from the bones to the door just behind you, and your heart rate spiked with puzzled fear.

Edward slowly walked past the shredded, crumbling pews, taking careful steps as he approached what was once the altar; where candles should have rested, instead there were more bones and abandoned bits of nature. But you could tell, even while watching his back, that something peculiar caught his eye, and you bit your lip with hesitation.

“Eddie…?”

He reached out towards the ground beside the altar, the sound of scrapping metal making you cringe as he picked something up. He turned around with the cumbersome material in hand, revealing to you a rusted chain weight down by a shackle. Another pang of panic drummed in your chest, finding this place no longer exciting and worth exploring, but rather ominous and frightening - you were not supposed to be here.

Letting your eyes wander, you realized that wasn’t the only chain, that another could be found just opposite of where Edward stood; he seemed to realize the same thing, looking back at you with alarmed eyes, although this place made the darkness of his eyes unnerving instead of comforting.

“I think there’s a reason your dad never brought you here…” His voice was edgy, face appearing nearly gaunt in the low lighting.

“Maybe he doesn’t know.” You countered, although it was clear that you’d only said that for your own comfort. Something told you that your father was most certainly aware of whatever happened in this chapel, although you weren’t sure how you could tell such a thing. A shiver ran up your spine, a sensation so cold that you wrapped your arms around yourself, nervously digging your fingernails into your skin, “I think we should go.”

Edward nodded even as he continued to look around, as if he couldn’t help his innate curiosity to see more, to understand what secrets lie here on Talbot property - you could see in his face that despite the potential peril, he was desperate to know more.

Behind you, the door abruptly scratched agonizingly along the floor, causing you to scream and Edward to drop the chains with a raucous clang as he shouted. In the same breath, you attempted to run towards Edward while spinning to face the sudden danger, causing yourself to trip and fall to the floor. The palms of your hands scraped across stone and dirt and bone, instantly sore as you scrambled towards the altar on all fours.

But before you could even make it a couple feet, something grabbed the back of your dress and pulled, causing you to shout again; you briefly caught a glimpse of Edward’s face in the chaos, and although there was fear alight in his eyes, it certainly wasn’t the kind of terror that you had expected.

“What in God’s name are you two doing here?” Your father’s distraught voice bellowed in your ear, ringing menacingly off the walls. He forced you to your feet with another strong yank, turning you around to face him; you assumed that his face would be red with anger, that his eyes would be full of rage, that his nostrils would flare with fury. But instead, what you saw was horror.

The chaos of the moment made your head spin, and suddenly tears were pricking at your eyes, lips quivering with shaken breath; you cried even as you tried to fight it, eyes locked with your father’s as his alarm melted into worry.

“We didn’t know--!” You attempted to explain, but your emotions made you stutter and trip over your words, making a hiccup leap from your throat.

Your father’s eyes were so caring and apprehensive as he knelt before you, large hands gently grasping yours for reassurance; but as his gaze looked past your shoulder and towards Edward, who was still frozen with fear at the altar, something changed. There was a darkness that seemed to suddenly shroud his eyes, a cruelty knitting his brows and a foreboding suspicion twisting his face. The expression was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, as if your father was seeing something that you didn’t.

Your father rose to his feet, his posture menacing as outrage overtook his face, “You brought her here!”

He released your hands, pointing an accusatory finger at Edward, whose hands were trembling, face pale with alarm. Your father’s shout caused your blubbering to grow worse, but he stepped around you as if you were forgotten, moving as if he intended on causing harm.

“Do you have any idea what kind of danger is in this place? And you brought her here!?”

You watched the confrontation with absolutely helplessness, feeling terror at the sight of your father acting so savage. Frantically, Edward looked around in search of some means of escape, knowing he didn’t stand a chance trying to run past your father and out the door. Your ears rang, vision blurry from tears, as you prayed that nothing bad would happen to him, that maybe your father would show mercy despite his animal-like aggression.

“I-- I didn’t…” Edward was at a loss for words, far too terrified to defend himself. You saw his eyes flick towards one of the shattered windows, clearly gauging if he could make the climb, if he could make the jump; your father saw this too, taking one large, threatening step in the direction of the window to flex his power over the situation.

“I always knew you were trouble, but I could never see it until now.” Your father insulted through his teeth as if he’d had some kind of revelation, his body tense with anger.

“I’m not--” Edward sounded so weak, so petrified; another hiccup interrupted your crying, a weak sound whining in your throat as if to protest your father’s actions.

“Aren’t you?” Did your father nearly sound amused by that? Why did it seem that his words were laced with a mocking malice, as if there were a smile upon his face?

Despite knowing the odds weren’t in his favor, Edward made an abrupt dash for the broken window, using the pews beneath as leverage to jump up and grab hold of the sill littered with broken stained glass. Your father moved only a second later, ever determined to grab the offensive boy and teach him a lesson.

But by some miracle, Edward managed to climb up despite crying out in pain, glass stabbing into his palms as he yanked himself up and over, the shattered remains of the window ripping his pants as he briefly straddled the sill before dropping out of your sight. Your father was just moments too late, angrily clenching his fist around the air in front of him with an enraged growl.

You stared out the window at the green leaves swaying tranquilly in the wind, as if to contradict what had just happened here; you sighed with relief that Edward managed to get away. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you felt numb, as if all the anxiety and fear had drained you of anything else.

When your father turned back around, his expression was far too calm considering the circumstances of what had just transpired; he took deep breaths through his nose, fighting to compose himself. It almost looked as if shame flashed across his eyes as he looked pitifully down at you, as if he realized that he’d behaved dreadfully, frighteningly, that he’d acting like an animal in front of you.

He approached and scooped you into his arms; despite everything, you still clung to him, resting your head on his shoulder as your crying slowly began to mellow out.

“I’m so sorry, my darling, I’m so sorry…” He repeated the apology over and over and over again as he carefully stepped out of the chapel, mindful of protecting your small body as he moved lightly on his feet. He briskly walked down the uneven cobbled steps and past the blockade of wolfsbane as he comfortingly rubbed your back, his voice attempting to sooth your tears.

Despite their dangerous, poisonous nature, you found comfort in the flowers’ purple-hued petals.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

September 1916

Eddie Munson would never have predicted he’d return to Hawkins one day; a few years ago, he would have bet all the money in the world that he’d never see his hometown again. No, once his father showed up following a five year disappearance, insisting that his young son hit the road with him, little Edward barely looked back. It wasn’t for a hatred of his home, nor for any troubles with his uncle, the man who practically raised him - but it was some youthful whimsy and desire, his childlike need to see what was beyond his front door. He was only twelve when his father returned, and as such he thought there would be great adventures to be had, falling for all the promises of happiness laid at his feet.

Of course, it didn’t take long for trouble to start. It seemed that everywhere Alan and Edward Munson went, bad things followed - an arrest in one city, a get-rich-quick scheme in another, a string of debt so long that they’d never see the end of it. As a boy, Eddie hadn’t quite realized how bad it was; but as the years took their toll, he found himself longing for a way back home.

He missed the cozy little cottage shared with his uncle, the smell of the gardens just yards from their front porch, the joys once shared with the Talbot daughter who he had no right to be friends with. All that time away had nearly caused him to forget his childhood friend, his companion in an otherwise lonely world; but once he began to crave his home in Hawkins, Eddie often found himself reveling in the memories of their days spent together. 

The familiarity and comfort of home had been calling out to Eddie, it had become a beacon of hope as times with his father grew worse and worse, his tolerance for this life wearing thin. So, Eddie came up with a scheme of his own, hiding money in tricky ways because his father knew all the usual tactics, mapping out which city they blew through would make his departure the easiest and the quickest.

Really, he could have left at any time - he was a man now, he no longer had to do as he was told, no longer needed permission before making decisions for himself. But Al was a trickster of a man, so much so that he’d find a way to manipulate his boy into staying simply because Eddie was a valuable asset to him.

They were up in Michigan when Eddie finally made his move as his father slept off his drunken haze in the dingy boarding house they’d taken residence in the past month. Eddie had been writing to Wayne for some weeks now, informing the man of his plan and its progression; although Eddie feared his abandoned uncle would want nothing to do with him, the words of forgiveness in his letters were a reassurance on Eddie’s doubtful heart.

When Eddie and Al first settled in upon their arrival in Michigan, Eddie took what chances he could to call the Talbot Estate, hoping to speak with his uncle in preparation - it was shocking to him when his first call was answered by Magda, the elderly housekeeper who had worked for the family Eddie’s entire life. Again, he felt trepidation, but the woman seemed pleased to hear from him, although once she’d been informed of Eddie’s return, she worried over Sir Talbot’s reaction.

That nearly made Eddie’s heart drop into his stomach, fearful that he wouldn’t be welcomed back simply because of a foolish day from sixteen years ago. As if able to read his mind - which was always a startling trait of Magda’s - she reassured him that she’d discuss the subject with her boss, that she’d put the man’s mind at ease. Of all the staff of the estate, Sir Talbot trusted Magda with his life, and if there was anyone that could change his opinion about a matter, it would certainly be her.

And so with everything set, Eddie left for the train station without a single look back, accepting easily that he’d likely never see his father again.

Once he set foot on the depot platform in Hawkins following a near two-day trip, Eddie was struck by how little his hometown had changed - yes, Hawkins was keeping up with the times as best it could, but it was as if the air felt exactly as it did the day he left in 1903. And as he rode through town alongside a farmer willing to give him a lift, he took in that comforting familiarity of the buildings and the roads and the people who hadn’t seemed to change at all.

As a boy, he hadn’t left the Talbot Estate often - Wayne’s job was sometimes all-consuming, so if Eddie did come into Hawkins proper, it was at the side of one of the maids collecting goods, and eager little Eddie was always first to volunteer his assistance. When Wayne was so busy that he couldn’t keep an eye on his boy, the maids took care of Eddie, giving him tasks to stay occupied, teaching him skills that may or may become handy in the future; if it weren’t for one maid in particular, Eddie probably would have been illiterate for half his life.

The streets of Hawkins seemed fresh with new cobbles, many shops with new coats of paint, and more people seemed to congest every direction that he looked - Eddie knew Hawkins had changed more than he thought, and yet that sense of home made it look exactly as it did thirteen years ago.

The farmer dropped Eddie off outside the tall, rod iron gates of the Talbot Estate, their size far less imposing now that he was no longer a child, although there was always something ominous about this property. It was as if there was a darkness surrounding his childhood home, one that only he could ever see, some mystery that he didn’t have all the clues to.

Eddie had to take a moment to simply stare at the estate - at the mansion sat atop a hill, at the surrounding fields losing their color with the arrival of autumn. He smiled fondly to himself despite the intimidating quality that seemed to hang in the air - this was his home and nothing made him happier than being back here.

With a sigh of anticipation, Eddie hiked his bag back up onto his shoulder and forced open one of the gates, stones crunching underfoot as he began to make the short hike up the property and towards the plot of land dedicated to staff housing. As he followed the twists and turns of the driveway, the mansion grew more imposing, Eddie’s gaze jumping from window to window, wondering if someone was watching him or if that was a silly sensation made up in his head.

The staff homes were all small cottages clustered to the northwest of the property - not a terribly far distance from the front gates, but it felt much farther on foot. Eventually, the top of the roofs came into sight, one chimney lazily blowing smoke; Eddie’s steps grew faster, stride longer, as he all but rushed towards the family front steps of his childhood home.

With it being mid-morning,Wayne was nowhere to be found - considering just how much of the property he maintained, mostly on his own, Eddie could guess at least half a dozen places that his uncle may be right now.

So, he deposited his feeble belongings atop the cot that was waiting for him, and approached the Talbot mansion, suddenly feeling a nervous tightening in his chest as he went - would Sir Talbot still frown upon him as if he were trouble just waiting to happen? Would his daughter shun Eddie due to too many years apart? He had to steady himself as he grew closer, taking deep breaths and reminding himself not to overthink as he rang the doorbell - Magda had assured him things would be fun, and that woman never went back on her words.

The butler who answered was a new face to Eddie, which meant he had to explain himself and his presence - he had hoped that perhaps Murray would still be on staff, as it would have been comforting for familiar faces to be greeting him instead. He was half-tempted to ask for Magda purely to help himself relax, but he thought it best to first reacquaint himself with Sir Talbot, considering that he’d be living on the man’s property once again should all go well.

So, introductions aside, the new butler allowed Eddie entry, instructing him to wait in the front hall before disappearing in the direction of Sir Talbot’s office. The mansion hadn’t changed one bit, the art on the walls the same pieces Eddie had seen dozens of times before, the carpet beneath his feet the exact one that he accidentally tracked mud on when he was first learning how to garden. And yet, the familiarity did not stop the drumming of his heart, the anxious little twitch of his hands - ever since that frightening summer day so many years ago, Eddie had never quite looked upon Sir Lawrence Talbot the same way.

Eddie was eventually escorted to the extravagant office, one of the only rooms in the home he hadn’t seen before; the butler announced his arrival, bowed his head, and briskly left the two men alone. Before Sir Talbot sat a stack of papers that he stared at harshly, but it was evident that his mind was elsewhere; nervously, Eddie assumed the man was simply collecting himself before daring to have this inevitable conversation.

When Sir Talbot finally looked over the frame of his glasses, the look in his eyes was nearly startling to Eddie - there was something unspoken in that stare, some kind of secret in the man’s eyes. Talbot’s demeanor became chilly as he studied Eddie closely, his gaze harsh and cutthroat as he looked the younger man up and down in scrutiny.

Growing nervous, Eddie nodded his head in greeting, hoping that his anxieties were written too plainly across his face, “Sir.”

Silently, Talbot looked him over again, assessing the man who he last saw as a boy. When he finally locked his eyes with Eddie’s again, they were coldly unreadable.

“Edward Munson… how you’ve changed.” Sir Talbot finally spoke, his voice still that same strong timber that it used to be. He rose to his feet, removing his glasses with a faint sigh; Eddie was almost dismayed to see that this man was still just as tall as ever, for he’d led himself to believe that Talbot only seemed tall because all those years ago he was an adolescent.

Keeping his shoulders squared and chin high, Eddie kept his eyes on the older man, who rounded his massive oak desk in a slow approach, Eddie suddenly feeling like prey. Once the two men were standing mere feet across from each other, there was a pause, a tense stillness in the air as Eddie held his breath in anticipation.

Wordlessly, Sir Talbot offered his hand - it was not a warm and welcoming gesture, but Eddie knew better than to turn it down. So, Eddie moved to shake the man’s hand, however, Talbot grabbed him by the wrist and turned his palm to face the ceiling; his grip wasn’t rough, but it was certainly insistent. With a confused look, Eddie watched Talbot’s face - the other man’s eyes studied his skin as if he knew palmistry, as if there was some hidden message in the lines of Eddie’s hand.

Talbot’s sharp eyes met Eddie’s abruptly, and the younger hoped that his face conveyed no fear or trepidation. For what felt like an eternity, they stared at one another, Eddie unable to comprehend what could possibly be going on. But a moment later, Sir Talbot nodded as if in confirmation to himself, and finally pressed his palm into Eddie’s for a firm shake.

“Welcome back.” Talbot’s words were far from warm, but he seemed a touch less guarded. Eager to please, Eddie nodded back in thanks as Talbot took back his hand.

“It is good to be back, sir.” Eddie confirmed with a nod, trying to ignore the trepidation he still felt strong as ever. Again, there was something in the man’s gaze that kept Eddie on edge, something that was simply unnerving, “I informed Magda that I’d be returning, although I couldn’t give her a day.”

Talbot nodded while his eyes moved about his office, as if he didn’t want to be looking at Eddie for longer than he had to; there was tension in his shoulders, “I’d heard your return was inevitable.”

Was Talbot always so short with his words? Eddie couldn’t quite remember. Trying to bolster his confidence, Eddie nodded again and took a deep breath, “I’ve come to you first in hopes of offering my services around the estate - I have no intention of living on your land for free, I am no longer a child.”

“No, you certainly aren’t.” Talbot answered in a slow, biting tone that Eddie couldn’t identify. The elder was gazing out the large window, eyes blindly staring out as if in contemplation, hopefully considering Eddie’s offer. When he looked back at the young man, Talbot had a curious expression across his features, “What skills have you acquired while away?”

Eddie swallowed; although he’d been rehearsing this for half the train ride home, it was still so different to be confronted with the actually conversation, to be confronted with the ever imposing man of the house, “I’m knowledgeable in mechanical and electrical devices; I can do any and all hard labor as need be; I’m well acquainted with motor vehicles, both as a driver and as a repairman.”

That last point seemed to catch Talbot’s interest, and so Eddie paused to allow the man to speak, “Motor vehicles? Well, that is a valuable skill.”

Eddie nodded - as motorcars began to grow in popularity these past few years, he’d been more than aware of what opportunities that may offer. Everyone wanted a car, wanted the fun and the luxury of a motor vehicle over a horse and carriage, and so Eddie had decided a couple years back that he would become an expert as best he could, would gain as much knowledge on this new technology as possible.

Talbot continued, “I will not promise you a job, Mr. Munson, however, my own motor car has been troublesome as of late - should you be able to resolve the problem, you have a job here at Talbot Estate.”

Eddie’s expression brightened, although he didn’t want to look too eager - he didn’t want to get his hopes up now that he was offered this challenge. But he gave a quick nod, already thrilling at the prospect of a potential job here at home.

“I’m more than happy to take a look; I can start right now, if you’d like.”

Sir Talbot’s face was once more curious, intrigued to see what Eddie could do, intrigued to see what kind of man he’d become. Talbot’s eyes narrowed slightly in consideration, before he, too, nodded shortly.

“Very well - have Douglas show you to the garage.” Talbot returned to his chair, although he did not yet take a seat, as if he refused to relax until Eddie was out of the room.

“Thank you, sir.” Eddie dipped his head a little, prepared to take his leave.

“And Munson?”

That serious, intimidating tone made Eddie’s heart skip, “Yes, sir?”

Talbot leveled him with a grave look, eyes fierce as they pierced straight into Eddie’s soul, one last domineering show before they parted ways, “Do behave yourself around my daughter. You hear me?”

Nervously, Eddie nodded, swallowing slightly as a cocktail of apprehension and excitement whirled around in his chest at the mention of the Talbot girl, his long lost friend. How much had she changed? How much had she stayed the same? Eddie was oh-so anxious to know, but now was not the time to get roused about it, “Yes, sir.”

Talbot stared for another long, tense moment before giving a small nod of his own, finally lowering back into his stiff leather chair, eyes returning to the paperwork scattered out in front of him as if it took precedence over the man before him, “You may go.”

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Early afternoon and the sun was high, warm in that cozy way that only seemed to happen in late-September once the season changed. It wasn’t the kind of sweltering warmth felt in the summer months, nor was it laced with the hint of approaching winter winds - it was a stillness, as if everything in the world had come to a pause to enjoy the orange sunlight while it would last.

Eddie had been fussing with Talbot’s motor car for over an hour now, tuning up every little thing just to make sure it was in pristine condition - he had to impress the man, after all, and didn’t want to leave a single stone unturned in his work. The vehicle was a virtually brand-new model, as it was undeniably different from those that Eddie had worked on before. Initially, that made him nervous, made him fearful that he wouldn’t have the right tools or knowledge to make any improvements. But once he began poking around at the motor, it was like an intuitive instinct made this new car make sense, and he became lost in his work.

Between the heat and the effort, Eddie’s body was already sticky with sweat; he’d stripped his coat and his vest and his tie, rolled up the sleeves of his white linen shirt, but it was only temporary relief. His hands were covered in grime, and more than once he swiped at his hair or rubbed sweat from his brow only to curse, knowing that trailing his fingers there would be streaks of oil left behind.

As Eddie grumbled to himself, focusing intently as he knelt beside the engine, the sounds of another car driving up the gravel met his ears, and as it drew closer cheerful voices accompanied it. Perhaps the help returning from town, or a visitor joining Talbot for luncheon; regardless, Eddie kept his head down, nearly done with the task he was doing.

The vehicle came to a grinding stop, although the engine continued running, a blend of voices eagerly overlapping one another, laughter harmonizing in a joyous, youthful way that made Eddie furrow his brow. Reaching a good stopping point, he set down his tool and stood, looking out from the open garage door to assess the visitors to the estate; he reached for a rag, already filthy, and attempted to clean his hands in vain.

The driver was a young man accompanied by three women, all of whom appeared near Eddie in age; a realization struck him in that moment, his heart beating faster as his eyes began to dart from face to face, searching for those ever familiar eyes, that ever comforting smile. The group in the car was chaotic, high energy as they made one another laugh, throwing their arms around with hyperactivity as they continued whatever stories and jokes they’d been telling on the drive up. For a moment, the disarray was distracting, but of course, it should have been obvious which of the three women was the one he was searching for--

The woman in the lilac sundress; purple has always been your favorite color, after all.

Eddie took a sharp breath once he finally had the chance to study you; thirteen years felt like it was melting away in an instant as he took in how you’d changed, how you’d stayed the same.

Your hair was still that same lovely color, especially out here in the sunlight. Your smile was still dazzling, bright enough to light up an entire room, especially now that you’d grown into it. Your body language was still as light and carefree as ever, having not lost any of the joyousness of your youth. Although you were one of three women in the vehicle, you radiated in a way that made you the only person Eddie could see;hHe felt his jaw growing slack as he stared, unable to fight the nervous skipping of his heart, the anxious tingling in his limbs.

You were beautiful, and it very nearly took him aback. It was different from the beauty you had in your youth - when Eddie left, you were only ten and he would’ve deemed you as ‘cute.’ For all of your childhood, he’d heard many people exclaim “she’ll be such a vision one day” or “what a gorgeous lady she’ll become,” but at the time he could not have made such bold predictions.

But now you were a woman, a stunning woman who certainly had no right being so damn lovely to look at. Now, Eddie understood what all those people were talking about when you two were just children, because the proof was right here before him in staggering beauty.

Eddie hadn’t realized he was staring until one of your friends finally noticed him within the shade of the garage, drawing the entire group’s attention. And when you set your sparkling eyes on him, he froze, his tongue heavy with nerves and limbs unable to move. You arched a lovely, curious eyebrow, clearly unfamiliar with this man standing in your family’s garage.

As you stood to climb over your friends and out of the vehicle, you curiously eyed this mystery man, wondering if your father had hired more staff or perhaps called for a specialist to deal with his damn car. The man was covered in grease from head to toe, his shoes scuffed and his curly hair becoming unruly from sweat; the buttons of his shirt were undone halfway done his chest, which was heaving from the labor he’d inevitably been hard at doing. Despite the oddness of his attentive staring, you couldn’t help but think that he was certainly an attractive man, whoever the hell he was.

His expression seemed dumbfounded as he stared at you, as if you were some specter that he couldn’t quite make sense of. But there was something about that look that reminded you of someone, that seemed familiar although you couldn’t place why.

Your name being spoken drew your attention, your friends saying their farewells and reminding you about dinner plans you had for tomorrow night; you smiled largely, confirming you wouldn’t forget, as you closed the car door behind you. Billy ripped out of the driveway, just like he always did, far too fond of fast driving and reckless behavior; the speed of the car driving off blew your hair back, the hat securely tied around your neck fluttering in the breeze. Your friends turned in their seats just so they could keep waving goodbye, giggling together as you histrionically waved back for their entertainment.

Once the trio was out of sight - although a dirt cloud was left in their wake - you turned back around, spying the mechanic out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way he sheepishly tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring at you this entire time. It made you smirk just a little, amused by whoever he was, growing yet again curious as to who he could possibly remind you of. Instead of walking to the house, you took leisurely steps towards the open garage, noticing the way the man fumbled with the tool he’d just picked up, which nearly made you giggle.

“Are you here to take that dreaded vehicle off father’s hands?” You questioned with something of a playful tone, clasping your gloved hands behind your back as you continued the stroll up the drive. Amusement flashed across the man’s face as he stared down, aimlessly cleaning the tool with a rag that was filthy; his energy was cautious, and something about that made you want to bring his guard down.

“I couldn’t afford it, miss.” His tone seemed careful as his eyes turned up, mindfully watching your approach. Your lip quirked with curiosity.

“Shame; all week I’ve had to listen to him complain about how burdensome it is.” You came to a pause in the large doorway, studying the man more closely now that you had a better view of him, now that he wasn’t so obscured by shadows.

There was a softness to his features, from the gentle shape of his lips to the curls brushing across his forehead to even the cleanly kept mustache and beard adorning his jaw. His whole aura seemed to radiate with kind easiness, his expressive brows raised with an innocent wonder, as if he was awaiting something in particular.

But those eyes of his, so dark and doe-like, seemed to have an eternal sadness about them, a sadness buried so deep within the bones that it would never quite go away. That struck you as shockingly familiar - those were eyes you’d seen so many times before, eyes you’d known so well once upon a time.

Now, you were the one frozen with surprise, your brow first raising then furrowing, your lips parting slightly with words that never quite came to you. It couldn’t be the boy you once ran through fields with, the boy who always had a story to tell, the boy who had no expectations of you the way the rest of the world had. He was long gone, giving you a rushed and eager farewell as his father insistently tried to drag him away. And yet…

“Eddie?” Your voice came out a soft whisper, his eyes alighting with elation immediately. You saw the exact moment all his trepidation faded away, when his shoulders relaxed and his lips spread into an incredible, gleaming smile. You laughed a little in disbelief, your own face lighting up despite the fact that you still couldn’t quite comprehend it was him; your smile was so wide and fierce across your lips that your cheeks nearly hurt.

Propriety entirely forgotten, you dashed the short distance between you and Eddie, throwing yourself against him so forcefully and quickly enough that he coughed with surprise, your arms winding tightly around his neck as your laughter continued to ring in his ear. For a moment, he didn’t dare move, growing tense against you, as if he was afraid of touching you; but shortly thereafter, he breathed in your scent and snaked his arms around your middle, his palm pressed firmly against your back as he held you close.

“My god, I can’t believe you’re back.” You said gleefully against his ear, pulling back just enough to look at his matured face, your hands coming up to grab his cheeks as you studied him. Your gaze darted with delight over the planes of his face, taking in his familiar eyes, his new beard, the kind smile on his lips; you were practically awestruck at the sight of him, at the sight of how handsome he’d become, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Eddie’s expression softened as his hands reached up to cup yours, slowly removing them from his sweaty cheeks as if fearful the two of you would be caught like this. He looked between your eyes warmly, the smile now a permanent fixture on his face. His tone seemed nearly apologetic as he answered, “I thought the same.”

You gently wrapped your fingers around his, refusing to let go as you dropped your joined hands between you, “What brought you back?”

Your heart drummed a funny tune in your chest as you continued to gaze upon him, enraptured by the shock of your old friend’s return. Eddie paused to consider his words before answering, dipping his head a little as if sheepish, “I was homesick.”

You smiled at the simple answer, squeezing his hands in yours as a little laugh escaped you, “Oh, don’t tell me you missed this dusty old place; what does it have to offer someone who has surely had so many magnificent adventures?”

Eddie looked back at you as if you were a marvel - even after all this time, you’d held onto your sense of wonder, you continued to crave excitement as if it were the air you breathed. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all, as if you were still children sharing tales of the far and wide world that lived inside the depths of your minds. It tugged at Eddie’s heartstrings, a sadness creeping into his thoughts - he had spent so many years away, so many years without sharing stories and relishing in the company of one another. As you stood here with him, hand-in-hand, Eddie felt a deep longing, missing you even as you stared right at him.

“The adventures weren’t nearly as magnificent as you’d like to think.” He answered, to which you pulled a displeased face while waving a hand between you two, as if you were shooing away the words he just said like insects.

“Don’t tell me that. Are you not the same boy who always had a story to tell, whether fact or fiction?” You smiled at him fondly, which prompted him to mirror the expression, unable to resist your charm even now; Eddie figured he’d never quite be able to resist you no matter how hard he tried.

He shook his head with a small laugh, looking down at his feet; he noticed in that moment that he’d gotten oil on your pretty dress, but knowing you, you probably didn’t give a damn, “Don’t worry, I will always entertain you with stories, all you need to do is ask.”

You sighed pleasantly, pulling Eddie back into a quick hug simply because you couldn’t contain the joy you felt, “Is that a promise, Edward Munson?”

“Of course it is, Ms. Talbot.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a pleasant shiver running up your spine; those pesky feelings that had only started to blossom in your youth were already daring to come back, despite the years apart. You tried not to fall victim to folly, and yet the yearning you once had for the groundskeeper’s boy was coming back with even greater conviction, the flame fanned by the excitement of your unexpected reunion.

And it certainly didn’t help that little Eddie had grown up to be a handsome man, so easy on the eyes that you were already convinced you could stare at him for hours if he’d let you. Hell, you could probably spend days admiring that face without ever growing bored of him.

Your cheeks warmed as a yearning look passed between the two of you, and so you dropped your gaze while taking a step back, meandering around the garage as a means to calm yourself down, to hide the attraction you were oh-so clearly feeling towards him, “Tell me about your travels - tell me about all the places you’ve been.”

As you walked with grace and ease, your moves were almost hypnotic; Eddie cringed at the perfect greasy handprint he’d left on the small of your back, at the swipe of grime that was transferred from his cheek to yours - how he hoped that your father wouldn’t see you like this, or else Eddie would be fresh out of luck in gaining a job here at the estate.

You perched upon a large wooden work bench, fussing with your skirts as they twisted around your feet; you both spotted another spill of oil on the lilac fabric, but you simply made an unconcerned face at it before dropping the folds of fabric from your hands. You directed your attention back to Eddie, raising your brows expectantly as an easy smile graced your lips.

Eddie licked his lips with a grin, shaking his head pleasantly while attempting to focus on all the work still to be done on the car, “I’ve been many places, though none appropriate for a woman like you.”

You scoffed with an amused eye roll, “And when have I ever been held back by what is and is not appropriate for me?”

Eddie faintly laughed, “You never have and you never will.”

You leaned forward while resting your hands atop your knees, a wicked look on your face, “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Sharing a familiar laugh, Eddie began to regale you with tales of getting arrested in New York City and Boston, of stirring up trouble in Virginia and Tennessee. His ability for storytelling had only sharpened after so many years, and you found yourself mesmerized by his way with words, the way his body language always complimented the stories he told.

He spoke of robberies and bar fights, of friends made and friends lost along the way; you were not inclined to believe all the words that left his mouth, but the two of you had always preferred the thrills of a good story to the facts of a boring life. It was like a silent agreement between you two to make a tale interesting, even if that required embellishment.

It was so easy to be with Eddie again, so easy to sit and listen to him talk, to laugh alongside him and share wicked smiles. How could thirteen years have come and gone when this moment felt timeless, as if you were once more four or six or eight years old, hanging onto every single word that left Eddie’s mouth?

He was striking to you, utterly remarkable, the way his stories came to him with such ease even as he fussed with car parts that just wouldn’t work. The way he’d look to you just to see your reaction following a particularly harrowing plot twist made you squirm; the way his grin would spread from ear-to-ear at the sound of your laughter made your cheeks flush with warmth.

Your innocent childhood together was felt heavily as you listened to Eddie’s tales - memories of climbing trees and splashing in puddles ever so vibrant behind your mind’s eyes. There was an anxious thrill in your chest that made this different, however, a swirling sensation in your stomach reminding you that things had changed even as they stayed the same. Each smile Eddie shot you was nearly breathtaking, each cheeky wink like a piercing arrow in your heart. You knew better than to let yourself become excited by him like this, and yet it couldn’t be helped, the fire had started burning the moment you laid eyes upon each other.

Even as you listened and laughed attentively, you tried to tell yourself that this was simply your childhood crush briefly reigniting, that the excitement would die down soon enough and you would simply see each other as friends from the distant past. You knew how your love of stories could tint the way you viewed the world, how the romance novels stacked around your room had always given you a longing for a love like fiction. You couldn’t allow those desires to trick you now, but you couldn’t resist, your entire being reacting to something so simple as Eddie smiling at you with all the softness in the world.

Time had gotten away from you as you sat there enchanted by his stories, and once he’d finally completed his work on that damned motor car, you were surprised by just how much the sun’s position had changed in the sky. You and Eddie shared a look of disbelief as he tidied the tools and put everything back in its place, the both of you clearly having been trapped within a bubble where time didn’t exist. You hopped up eagerly from your seat, exiting the garage alongside Eddie as he looked up at the manor with hesitation.

You grabbed his hand again, to which he met your eyes attentively; You grinned from ear-to-ear, just like you did as a child when you decided the day was still young and there was so much more to be explored, “Walk with me? I’ll show you all the changes your uncle has made to the gardens, they’re magnificent.”

Eddie smiled sadly, which caused you to falter slightly; had you misread something about the past couple of hours? Despite every fiber of his being wanting to cave to your each and every whim, he knew better. He gave a small shake of his head while glancing at your home once more, “I must speak with your father - I can only stay should my work on the car be sufficient. And he’s asked me to… behave myself around you.”

You frowned, your lips forming a beautiful pout as your brows turned down. You were reminded that you were adults now, that neither of you had the freedoms of children. You knew you had to let Eddie go, but how you wished you could simply drag him away to hide in the hedge maze or the woods until all responsibilities and expectations faded away.

Righting your expression, you sighed and nodded with acceptance, locking your eyes firmly with his, “Tonight then. After supper, meet me in the gardens.”

It was a plea, even as you spoke as if it were a command. Eddie inhaled sharply, excited by the suggestion but also terrified that the two of you might be found out - your childhood innocence was gone, and it could cause trouble for you to be found together like that. But that look in your eyes, so fiercely determined, made it impossible for him to deny you; Eddie already knew that, even now, he could never deny you.

“Tonight.” He whispered with a nod, causing you to smile wide. Eagerly, you placed a kiss on the palm of your hand, then pressed it longingly to Eddie’s cheek, causing his eyes to nearly flutter shut; he leaned into the touch with such reverie that it made your heart swell.

“Now go, distract my father so he won’t see me like this.” You instructed with reference to your dress that he had dirtied. Eddie laughed smally with one more nod, stepping away from you as if it were burdensome to do so; he began to round the manor back towards the front doors, pausing once to shoot you a playful look before disappearing beyond a corner.

You waited another few moments before scurrying off towards the kitchen entrance, hoping that Magda could somehow get these grease stains out of your favorite dress.

.

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[PART TWO] | [MASTERLIST]

addt. AN | The taglist is open for anyone interested in being notified about updates! I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this first chapter ♥

taglist | @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson @duncanhillscoffeecups

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@marlena-marlena @mmmunson @skrzydlak @tenthmoon

[jazjelspen]

devil's spawn.

angel alastor w/ radio demon daughter reader

(notes: based off of the concept of my other story 'my angel baby' except alastor and his adopted daughter switch places and personalities. In Alastor's pov (?)in this chapter.)

(caution: RUSHED!! definitely rushed qwq so I greatly apologize. Not proofread in the slightest. Might have cringe parts am so sorriy qwq)

(Alastor is still in a way the angel version of 'the radio demon' except he's called 'the radio angel' by his fans, but he doesn't refer to himself as such since angel alastor is actually humble)

(I'm willing to make another part but considering Hs becoming more stressful and it blowing my brain up it'll definitely take time, but always willing to make more if wanted/needed)

It was another bright and fresh day in heaven, Alastor clinging the laundry up on the line while his mother, whom he managed to find in his decades inside the pearly gates, sat on a rocking chair reading a book as she usually would.

The bright heavenly lights making his halo shine, complimenting his wings, other neighborly 'winners' he would be acquainted with would walk by and greet him with a wave or a tip of their hats to him while he was outside fixing their clothes.

In this particular universe, Alastor is the complete opposite of his original counterpart. Where the original Alastor would hurt and destroy, this version of him would care and heal. He was selfless, kind, compassionate and sympathetic to which again is also a complete twist around compared his original self.

Alastor died out of an accidental kill, mistaken for a deer and shot through the head while he was out in the forest collecting his adoptive daughter's favorite flowers, at her favorite flower meadow on the day of her eighteenth birthday.

Unfortunately due to missing his baby girl's birthday and being taken away from her too soon for his liking he has been living in pure regret, panic, and pure sorrow form having to leave her too early and it pained him everyday.

He raised you all by himself while juggling his passion for radio hosting, finding comfort in your innocence and smiles when he first found you and as you grew up you gave him a reason to live and work.

That's the only thing that him and the original sadistic version Alastor have in common; the fatherly love for their daughters who are also their entire lives. Their love traverses across universes.

Eventually the more you grew up the more.. peculiar and unique you became.. your innocence would melt away with a sadistic fire in your eyes that he would notice at times but would try his best to lead you in the ways of love and compassion which you had for him but lacked for those around you..

Alastor was finishing up his morning chores for his mother's home before he would eventually go back inside and get a few necessities before leaving his home. His pearly coat, his shining microphone staff, fix his appearance in the mirror just a tad, and finally hugging his mother goodbye from the porch to head up and down the street towards the main part of the city.

Yes, he was still a radio host as well too.

Instead of broadcasting screams of pain and terror from sinners he instead would give voices to those who wished to express their passions, interview everyday folk and influential people on opinions and advice to those listening to his radio show and he even has good connections and acquaintances to the high Seraphims of heaven in order to get the latest news in the ruling of heaven.

He's just as famous as he was in life, maybe more considering how many people there are in heaven alone.

His polished shoes creating sounds on the pavement as he hummed a special tune that he adores, a tune he used to sing to you. Yet again still greeting passing by acquaintances and fans of his show with genuine glee and care.

Alastor waved off to an old friend while walking by, shining his taken cared for smile. "Good to see you again Roger, don't forget to tune in soon in a few hours! It'll be a real gas so don't miss i-- oh my!"

Alastor looked down as he seemed to bump into someone small, looking down at his feet he saw a young little girl. Another fellow 'winner' she seemed to have bumped into him with chocolate smeared around her mouth with a giddy yet apologetic smile on her face. And unfortunately smeared some chocolate on his pants.

"Hiya mister!" she waved, showing her dirtied little hand as well "Sorries! I didn't watch where I was going..!"

Alastor noticed the stain and his jaw hung slightly from surprise but then immediately laughed it off, petting the young girl on the head in understanding.

"Oh little one, don't worry about it at all! Here, so you can clean yourself up." He then took a white embroidered handkerchief for his chest pocket to give to the little girl who then wiped her face and her hands, seeing her struggle a bit Alastor graciously held her hands gently to wipe them off for her and her nose as well.

"Mary!" A voice exclaimed that approached, a woman than came into view, a winner as well. "Oh! Well if it isn't our most kind radio host! I deeply apologize about my daughter sir.." The mother would smile sheepishly and apologetically. "Thank you so much for helping my little girl, I apologize for her clumsiness! Could I perhaps offer you help of any kind?..”

Alastor shook his head as he would then neatly fold the handkerchief and saved it in his coat this time so that he could remember to wash it when he got back home. "Oh no no! No need ma'am, it's nothing a little magic can't cover up for the time being!" He smiled at the woman who now had her hands placed on her daughter's shoulders with a sigh slipping through her lips. He looked down at the girl as he gave her a pat on the head "On the other hand, are you okay dear? I do hope you didn't hit yourself too hard!.."

The little girl shook her head as well in reply, "Nu-uh mister! Thank you for helping me! I promise not to bump into anymore misters or any misseses!" Oh her messing up of words ringed a bell in his head

"How darling! Take care of yourself and your mother now, " He looked up at the woman to then lower his head slightly in respect before resuming his steps again "Apologies for the rush, just trying to see if I can get some special guests on my radio show tonight!"

The woman waved at him 'goodbye' with her young girl following suit "Oh I sure hope they agree! Good day to you Alastor!"

"Good day to you as well madame!" he waved back as he finally took enough steps away from them to now get a clearer view of the inside of the city.

He couldn't help but sigh in despair, he remembers when he used to have his own little girl.

Took care of her as if she was his own blood, as if they came form the same flesh and heritage.

And although you didn't, he never loved you any less.

His smile faltered slightly but picked it up quickly, rushing towards the next moving tram that he recognized to get to his destination: the middle of the city. Once he saw one and hopped on, he could feel his heart pump with blood he once had as red and now as gold as the tears of the elder angels.

If what he heard was right, he would try to get a segment with three special guests from hell.

Sure, he knew that they came from a place of bad and evil but that didn't deter him any less. From life to death he would give voices to everyone that needed to be heard and he would follow it no matter where someone came from.

The fresh breezes and the smell of bakeries, restaurants, the sounds of workers in mom and pop shops and independent growing businesses were like music. He could've sworn that even the laughter of children and the chattering of friends, couples, and families amongst each other turned into melodies in through his brain circuits.

Heaven was.. heaven.

But his only sin was not speaking out at heaven's hypocrisy or flaws at times. Many times he would but it turned into heaven setting restrictions on him.. silencing his own voice. He was never fond of that but apparently according to Sera and that blasphemous Adam, it was required. 'To avoid panic and prevent disturbances amongst the people of heaven' or so they'd say.

He was working on a way to go around that.. change their minds. But it was much harder than he anticipated.

Oh!-- The tram stopped with a loud hiss and ring.

Alastor snapped out of his thoughts would hop off the tram and finally start resuming his walk. He was now just a block away, the more he walked the less the voices and sounds of work distanced, entering a quieter part of the city. He was now in the smack middle of the entrance to heaven, where ice cream shops were laid in rows, cafes as well, people quietly chatting and drinking their beverages or eating their food.

Oh! And he could heard a familiar tune! It was that one.. welcome song that St. Peter would often sing..

Not a favorite song of his.. at all.. but he applauded them for effort!

Maybe a splash of swing or jazz would bring it to life.. but he assumed that was the old man in him talking.

For the time being he decided to watch some place nearby yet not too close since he knew that if he stayed where he was he would be caught up in the performance and he would have to sing with them..

Waiting at the side and hearing the singing come closer and close Alastor would make himself busy by polishing his microphone with his breathe and sleeve, fixing and dusting himself off as to not give any bad first impressions.

And thankfully he managed to remember his stain that the little girl left-- forgetting about it due to wanting to get to his destination on time and helping the poor thing. With a gentle swish of his staff pointed at the stained he then managed to cover it with his heaven-given magic.

Once the full group performance made his way towards his direction was when he stood up straight, chin high, shoulders fixed, looking good as always Alastor.

He heard Emily's voice among the performance, the youngest of the two Seraphims.

He's quite close with the two, at first only starting as something for business until one day he got closer to them and confessed his past, and his regrets.

Emily reminds him much of his daughter, the high angel having an enthusiasm and mentality of a late teenager or young woman, same age his daughter was when he last saw her.

He thought, wondered, pondered, dreamed-- what his little girl grew up into.

His eyes stared at his microphone, the shine of silver blinding him when he turned it for a spot of sunshine to burn his eyes slightly.

Did she grow up into an incredible woman? Did she ever find love? Settle down and have children? How has she matured? Does she resent him for leaving him so soon even if he never meant to? Does she look completely different? Did she ever change her name?

Were you even up here at all?

He hopes you were, looking and asking for you far and wide in heaven. Did you seclude yourself? Did you hide from him on purpose?

Or were you simply in hell..

No-- his little girl couldn't be in hell. Sure she had concerning hobbies, thoughts, ways of doing things but it didn't deserve her going to hell of all places.

You had to be up here, somewhere.. you had to.

A somber sigh escaped his lips as he stared at his reflection in the object between his palms and fingers. His heavy heart tugging and ripping itself apart.

'my little girl.. where are you?'

"Alastor!! Hey!"

A young voice shouted at him from afar, looking up he saw Emily wave and ushered him to head towards her way from afar.

He let go of his guilt for now, and shined his iconic smile as always.

"Why hello Emily, Sera," he lowered his head at the high angels in respect for them "How may I help you ladies today? I see we have new visitors!" His head moved to look at the other three ladies in front of him that came from below.

There was a young woman with eyes that shared the same enthusiasm as Emily's did, hair of sunshine and gold, fangs as sharp reminiscing those of a blood bat, small and thin frame and an outfit that successfully mimics casual sophistication.

Another young girl to her right was one that seemed more reminiscent of an angel, her long hair filled with silver and moon, a gaze as sharp as broken, stance serious and unapologetic, she seemed ready to protect the blonde girl beside her but also had eyes of worry and a sense of uncomfortability haunted her features and her almost slouched back.

The last one, really shook him up.

The next young woman to the left of the blonde girl was adorned in nothing but pure red with tones of a deep hot pink in her entire look. Her clothes were of an era he knew of very well, of course he'd recognize clothes from the 30s!.. except they had a few odd touches that more or so reminded him of the 40s or heck maybe even 50s.. a bit more ahead of his time. She had a large sharp smile that screamed of mischief and eyes that are waiting to do something-- anything sinister.

Despite all this, these characteristics weren’t the ones that shook him to his core.

She looked like someone he knew, that he missed.

"Everyone, this is Alastor. He's heaven's most famous and influential radio host! Giving voices to the voiceless when he was alive and even more up here, and of course due to his selfless acts when he was alive he was blessed to be let through the gates of heaven." spoke Sera, introducing the 'winner' as he chuckled sheepishly.

"Oh thank you Sera, but it's nothing really! Just had to do what was right."

Sera then lead his eyes back to the newcomers, having him face directly to the girl with hair of sunshine first. "Alastor, I present to you the Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, Charlie Morningstar. She's here to present a few ideas to the court the next day."

Alastor's eyes widened in surprise, "Princess! I didn't know royalty were to visit us today!" he bowed down towards the girl as to pay his respects, standing back straight once he finished. "A pleasure to meet you sweetheart quite the pleasure! Didn't expect our guests to be of royalty so apologies to any bad manners."

The princess shook her head with a large smile "Oh!-- don't worry you didn't give off any bad manners! It's nice to meet you too Mr...Alastor!.. it.. it's very admirable what you did before and what you do now! You seem to have earned your place here quite well!"

The man shook his head as well in reply "Oh like I said it's nothing! If anything I should thank my daughter, she was my reason and my motivation to be nothing but kind to others to present a good example! I continue to do so in her honor."

Charlie's eyes grew as a soft 'awwww' escaped her lips "You must love your daughter very much..!"

Alastor nodded, "Of course I do! As a father always should!"

Charlie opened her mouth again to speak, her eyes filled with a sense of bittersweetness until she was suddenly interrupted by the young woman dressed in red. She walked in between Alastor and Charlie with a sense of charm and enthusiasm, the spirit of a presenter or spokesperson shining in her body language and way of speaking.

"How delightful! The love of a parent transcends heaven and earth! Now that's poetry!" the girl's voice was glitched out and heavily amplified with a strong sound of static, as if her vocal cords came straight from a radio speaker. She held a staff much similar to his, except her's was shorter and more compact-able.

The girl with silver hair rolled her eyes in nothing but pure irritation, Charlie giggled nervously as she then pointed her way towards the one who spoke. "And this is ______! She's the founder and host of my hotel back in hell! She's helped me throughout everything and I dont think I would be able to get to this point if It weren't for her help as well!"

Ah,

He knew it.

______, anyone could have that name.

But you looked like his daughter, his pride and joy.

His face still shines with a smile but his eyes are baffled with the sudden hit of realization.

It couldn't be a coincidence-- you looked like her, your eyes had that spark he always used to see in his daughter before he left. The way of speaking, that stance-- more confident and mature but the way you spoke.. your vocals were a match to his daughter's just with a touch of years to it.

And you looked at him as if you knew as well, eyes narrowing with piqued interest. Sharp smile widening an-

wait..

what?..--

You seemed to have almost hopped right in front of him with your hand suddenly shaking his. "A real pleasure to meet you sir! Quite the pleasure!"

You mimicked his greeting yet somehow you spoke it so naturally, as if spoken a billion times before. He was stunned, if there weren't people around he would've slipped and broken down right here right now--

but he cannot, will not.

He will not worry others, he will not bother others with his emotions.

"Good to meet you Ms.."

"______. Simply call me ______." Your sinister grin only stretched, a sense of despair fell into the pit of his stomach,

His little girl in hell?

Did he.. fail at raising you?

Was dying too soon the reason why you let yourself fall?

Whatever the case, Alastor was nothing but stuck in a small limbo of his own guilt again

If he did this to you-- even indirectly,

he wouldn't ever forgive himself.

"Ms.. ______..."

'my little girl' he would've said, 'my daughter, how I've missed you. please forgive me for leaving you so soon... I'm so so sorry my darling..'

the words were stuck to his throat.

a small gust of air was the only thing that escaped from his cords.

Sera clapped her hands together once as a way to announce, "Well Princess Morningstar. I hope your stay here is nothing but comfortable, and I say that to your companions as well."

Sera looked at the 'winner' with confusion and a sense of concern but she knew she had to leave due to duties calling for her and Emily's presence.

Sera gently put her hand on his shoulder, "Alastor, would you perhaps show them where their hotel is and how to check in? It's going to be the one nearby."

'the one nearby' he thought, 'a block away.. '

"of course! anything to make our guests feel more welcomed!"

Sera nodded in 'thanks' before flying off with Emily on her side, herself also waving goodbye to all of you as well.

Alastor paused, before finally turning his head at the girls.

"Well, let's get you all to where you'll stay for the time being!.."

He will find out what happened to you, what went wrong, how he messed up.. he'll beg for forgiveness from you. for you were and still are his reason for who he is.

you were his one and only daughter, he will make it up to you.

"Follow me now! Time isn't going any slower!"

Little did he know, he wasn't at fault at all.

You were just born that way.

You knew what you were and you embraced it as a way to cope from him being taken away from you.

Of course you had to blend in and you took on the mantle of taking over your late father's radio show, eventually becoming as famous as he was and you were nothing but just as charming as he was on his show.

But then you killed, the power imbalance favoring you was nothing but amazing to you.

Years later, you enjoyed it. Killing was your life's purpose. Your crimes were never a subject for you to ever regret or feel guilt for.

You regret nothing.

You were a merciless killer then, and one now.

Through earth and hell, forevermore.

[babywriter]

Janine liked to go to school diapered. It turned her on. It also took quite a bit of courage to do so as she was terrified anybody would find out her little secret. There had been a few close calls, but by now Janine had grown comfortable with her choice of underwear. She had also grown complacent and less worried about hiding it. So what if someone she didn’t know would see the waistband of a medical diaper? This was college and she was free. It did become more problematic when someone she did know ended up seeing it.

While Janine was picking her books up, she carelessly showed the tip of her padded underwear to Brenda. Brenda was not a friend. In High School, she had been a mean girl who had gleefully spread rumors about Janine. Of course, Brenda bursted out laughing when she saw the diaper.

“Oh my god. This is-WOW. You are such a baby, Janine.” A little too loud perhaps as people wondered what was going on. Janine looked troubled when she stood up.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh I think we need to talk.” said Brenda. She grabbed Janine’s hand and led her out of the class.

“What are you doing? Let me go.” Janine remained steadfastly calm as she didn’t want to provoke the other girl.

“I know what I saw.” said Brenda. “You didn’t need diapers before.”

“So what if I didn’t?”

“I’m just saying. It would be a shame if others found out…”

“Please don’t.” asked Janine. In hindsight, this was a terrible reaction as Brenda now held all the cards.

“Oh I shouldn’t, should I? Why not, huh? There’s nothing to be ashamed of by being a little miss pottypants. You know, what I’d love to do? Change your little diaper butt!”

“You won’t.”

“Yes, I will. I should probably check if you’re dry right now…”

“No, stop! Get away from me!”

“My, my. Baby has wet herself. We are definitely going to your place.”

Obviously, this wasn’t really optional, and Janine only begrudginly accepted so that Brenda would go away afterwards. Janine had an apartment to herself, which meant that she could openly indulge. A baby bottle in the kitchen, a few toys scattered here and there, a ridiculous amount of stuffies. Subtle signs that gave it away. Brenda looked at her victim with glee.

“Oh this is much better than my dorm. You must love it here. No mommy to tell you to clean up after yourself.”

The worst part was when Brenda went through Janine’s closet. Onesies, footie pyjamas, loads of diaper packs with adorable prints, little dresses and skirts.

“This is all so cute! I didn’t know you were such a cute little baby! We should tell everyone, don’t you think?”

“Brenda, please. You’ve done enough. Can’t you act like an adult and start minding your own business?”

“I need to start acting like an adult? I’m not the one pissing myself, baby. In fact, I think I should inform everyone.”

“NO!” Janine stomped her foot and laid down the law. This was not going to happen.

“No? YOU don’t get to say no, baby girl.” Brenda wrestled Janine’s pants away from her and put the girl on her lap, spanking her well-padded bottom until she started to cry. Pain was only a small part, there was also the humiliation and a surprising amount of excitement. This strange and contradictory mixture of emotions is what made her cry.

“If you act like a good little girl.” said Brenda. “You will be a very happy baby, but if you make mommy mad, you will NEVER live it down. Is that understood?”

Janine nodded while sobbing.

Brenda immediately moved in to become Janine’s around-the-clock caregiver. And just as quickly, Janine was forced into the 24/7 lifestyle she had fantasized about. Everything was done for her and an extreme set of rules was also put in place. Like wearing diapers and baby clothes at all times or only being able to “make cummies” if mommy deemed her diaper sufficiently dirty. And she had to beg for them while showing off how used her diaper was. The cummies were mommy’s business too. Only mommy could use the vibrator on Janine’s diaper. While Janine was forced into this lifestyle, she still went about her daily activities. Brenda had wanted them to go on. Thus, Janine went to school diapered and wearing a short girlish dress that barely covered the padding. In the front and in the back, there was a noticeable bulge, revealing that Janine perhaps wasn’t wearing normal underwear.

In the hallways, Janine was forced to hold Brenda’s hand. Not only that, she was constantly flushed from the looks she was getting. She did not relax until she was seated in the massive auditorium, where she could have some privacy by sitting in the back. Yet, when she felt she needed to go, she did not hesitate for one second as Mommy had trained her well. It is unfortunate that after the class, a friend of Janine came to see her. The diaper, well-used, now sagged just under the dress.

“Hi! How...are you?” said the friend.

“I-” Janine began.

“Baby, put your thumb in your mouth. She’s doing super well!” answered Brenda in her place.

The friend nodded and went away immediately after. Whatever this was, she wanted no part of it.

Naturally, Janine began to cry, thumb in her mouth. 

“Do you need your diaper changed?” asked Brenda, loud enough for any passerby to hear. The woman put her hand on Janine’s butt and squished it. “Yes, you do!”

Whispers of “what’s wrong with her” could be heard. For some reason, this broke Janine. It was all in the open so why resist?

“Mommy, I wanna go home.” she said. Teary, her whole thumb in her mouth, raising her dress with the other hand so everyone could see her diaper.

Janine’s reaction was marvelous as far as Brenda was concerned. Now, the girl was all hers.

“We can’t leave yet, baby. You haven’t done your cummies.”

“Please mommy, no…” Janine was absolutely desperate to avoid at least that.

“No, perhaps it’d be better in front of your parents…”

Under this thinly veiled threat, Janine began to rub the front of her diaper with great vigor. The first and only time she had been allowed to touch herself, even if through her underwear. The thick padding made it especially challenging. So did the crowd of onlookers. Perverts in their own rights for watching, and filming, Janine. Finally, she moaned loudly.

“I made cummies mommy!” she nearly screamed in a high pitch lisp.

“Good job, baby! I won’t bring you here again, I promise” Brenda said with a grin.

Indeed, Janine never went to college again. Instead, she was kept at home. Forced to use her diapers, she grew dependent on them. Forced to ask permission to make cummies, always while wearing a used diaper and often in public. Truly, a baby that was shown off at every opportunity. And all that humiliation just kept making Janine hornier.

[corroded-hellfire]

Steve having a little sister (who’s like a first-time) senior who has a crush on Eddie. But she’s a cheerleader, her parents expect her to marry an Ivy League, senator’s son or something. She kept her crush a secret until Jason calls him a freak in front of the whole cafeteria- and she punches him.

I had so much fun writing this request! I hope you enjoy what I've come up with, and if you notice the joke I stole from Glee, no you didn't. Reader’s race is not specified and she could be adopted because adoption is a wonderful, amazing thing. Harrington!reader and Eddie 4ever.

Words: 3.1k

“Mr. Munson, late again, I see.” 

Mrs. O’Donnell heaves a disappointed sigh as Eddie gives her an over the top smile.

“Sorry, had a meeting with the principal. He wanted to know why you gave me detention again.”

Mrs. O’Donnell frowns. “I didn’t give you detention.”

“Oh, phew,” Eddie says as he slides into his seat. “Glad to hear it. I’ll try and be on time next time.” 

The class lets out a titter of laughter as Mrs. O’Donnell rolls her eyes and turns back to the board. The dopey grin is stuck on your face as you lean forward in your seat. Resting your upper body on your desk, you bite your bottom lip as you look Eddie up and down. From your vantage point, you can only see the back left side of him, but you’ll stare at that for the entirety of the class period if you can. 

“Miss Harrington?”

Begrudgingly, you tear your gaze away from Eddie’s glorious hair and see Mrs. O’Donnell watching you impatiently. 

“Um, yes?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to enlighten us about the Stamp Act?” the elderly woman says. 

“Uh…” you trail off, mind suddenly blank of everything that isn’t Eddie Munson. “I would not.”

A few people in the class let out snorts of laughter, but Eddie barks out the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. It makes your stomach fizzle, and your head feel all floaty. Even O’Donnell’s disapproving scowl can’t dampen your giddiness. 

The rest of class, you’re riding on a high. You made Eddie laugh. Out of all the accomplishments in your life, you’re not sure if one has ever meant more to you. Making honor roll? Eh. Becoming a cheerleader? So what? Doesn’t compare to making the cutest guy you’ve ever seen laugh.

Okay, you tell yourself. When class is over, you’re going to talk to him. The bell rings, and you’re scrambling to get your things together. Tossing them into your bag, you sling it over your shoulder and follow Eddie out of the classroom. 

“H-Hey, Eddie?” you manage.

He turns his head to look over his shoulder and gives you a smile that has your heart stuttering.

“Hey, Harrington. What’s up?”

“Did you see A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2?” you ask, somehow not stumbling over your words. You’d had Steve bring the VHS tape home for you to watch just so you could ask Eddie about it.

“Freddy’s Revenge?” Eddie asks, wrinkling his nose up. “Such a letdown after the first one.”

“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle. “The first one was pretty good. This one made me want to fall asleep.”

“Ironic,” Eddie says with a smirk. He opens the school door for you, and you give him a grateful smile as you step out into the parking lot. You watch as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “See you tomorrow, Harrington.”

“Bye, Eddie.” You’re staring at him as he walks away, and you know you need to stop. But how can you when his ass looks the way it does in his jeans? Once he hops into his van, the trance is broken, and you make your way to your brother waiting in his car at the other end of the parking lot. 

You groan as you yank open the car door and slip inside. Steve looks less than thrilled himself, but it has nothing to do with you. Your parents are forcing the two of you to join them at a company party tonight, which both of you are vehemently against. But Steve was tasked with picking you up from school, taking you home so both of you can get ready, then to the party. 

“Think I can fake an epileptic seizure and get out of this?” Steve asks on the way home.

“You’re not epileptic,” you say.

“That’s why I said ‘fake’ it,” Steve says with a scoff. 

“They’d find a way to make you come anyway,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The party is just as horrible as you and your older brother imagined it would be. You’re forced into an itchy blue dress and Steve looks like he’s about two seconds away from ripping his tie off. The stuffy guests walk around with their noses in the air, only deigning to talk to those they deem successful enough. You want to throw yourself out of one of the windows as you see your parents approaching you with an older couple that they’ll probably expect you to remember from somewhere. 

“Well, look at you,” the older man says. “All grown up.” The way he says it makes a shiver go down your spine. 

“You must have all the boys chasing after you,” his wife says with a wink. It’s like they’re competing to see who can make you the most uncomfortable. Before you can open your mouth to speak, your mom jumps in.

“Oh, we have high hopes for her,” she says with a chuckle. “Going to go to Yale or Stanford and find her an Ivy League man to settle down with.”

And when exactly did we decide this? you think to yourself. 

“Someone well-to-do,” your father adds. “A senator’s son, maybe. Who knows? We could be raising a future First Lady here.”

You want to gag. Steve must sense your temper rising, because he rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Remember us when you’re famous,” the older man says. 

I don’t even remember you right now. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but your dad changes the subject to something about profit reports. 

Steve drives the two of you home before your parents, the two of them insisting they were going to stick around a little longer. The minute you get into your room, you throw your heels towards your closet. Your brother hears you banging around and comes to stand in your doorway, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s taken his tie off and undone the first few buttons of his white button up shirt. 

“What’s the matter, First Lady? Didn’t like getting signed up for an arranged marriage?”

You whirl on him, practically shoving a finger in his face. “Do not call me that. I am not some prized pig they can sell at the fair.”

“Technically, I think the pigs are judged at the fair, not sold.”

Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. 

“I’m running away,” you say, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m joining the circus. Or a motorcycle gang. Anything! As long as it’s not here.”

“Oh, relax,” Steve says. “When you go off to college you can date whoever you want. They’ll never know.”

“Why do I have to wait until I go off to college?” you demand. “Why can’t I date whoever I want right now?”

“Do you want to date someone right now?” Steve asks, furrowing his brows.

“That’s not the point,” you say, but you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Holy shit, you do,” Steve says with a huff of laughter. He pushes himself off the doorframe. “Who is it?”

“Goodnight, Steve.” You shove him out of your doorway before slamming and locking your bedroom door. 

“The fuck did you say, Freak?”

Jason Carver’s voice grates on your nerves as you make your way down the hall. Unfortunately, there’s only one person the jock douche would be calling that name and it has you seeing red. You were still steamed from your parents’ comments last night, and this is just going to push you over the top.

“Who, me?” 

You walk into the cafeteria to see Eddie grinning at the basketball playing asshole.

“You’re the only freak here,” Jason says.

Your white cheer sneakers squeak to a stop on the linoleum floor, and you drop your bag down by your feet. The clatter has Jason’s gaze shifting to you. Most of the cafeteria’s attention shifts to you, actually. But you don’t notice as you stalk up to the bully. Normally, you might say something snarky to him, but you’re done with words. All your pent up frustration is taken out on Jason’s chin as you serve him a right hook. He stumbles back a few steps and there are gasps around the cafeteria. Your hand is throbbing, but the pain is nothing compared to the satisfaction you feel at shutting that jerk up. The small smear of blood above his upper lip has you smirking.

“Miss Harrington!”

With a groan, your satisfaction wanes when you see Principal Higgins glaring at you. His glasses are perched low on his nose and his hands are high on his hips.

“My office. Now.”

Thankfully, Principal Higgins’s secretary is kind enough to give you some ice to put on your knuckles. Some staffing emergency took precedence, so you’re stuck sitting on a bench outside his office while he deals. 

“You’ve got some arm.”

The voice that you’d know anywhere sounds from above you and your neck cracks from how quickly you look up. Eddie stands there with his hands in his pockets, a sheepish smile on his lips. 

“Oh. T-Thanks,” you say. 

Eddie takes a seat next to you on the bench. He yanks a black bandana out of his back pocket and smooths it out across his lap before folding it lengthwise. 

“May I?” he asks, gesturing to the ice you’re holding against your hand. 

“Sure.” You extend your injured hand out, and Eddie secures the ice against your knuckles with the bandana, then ties it tight enough to keep everything in place.

“How’s that?” he asks. 

“Better. Thank you.” You find it hard to meet his eyes, so you keep your focus on your hand as you bring it back into your lap. 

“So,” Eddie says, turning himself sideways on the bench and making himself comfortable. “What made you punch ol’ Carver? I mean, I know we all want to do it, but no one’s been quite so brave. Not until you, that is. And from a cheerleader? One of his own?”

“I’m not one of his own,” you say, looking up at him. But Eddie has a playful smirk on his lips.

“Nah, I know you’re not. I’m just teasing you. But what did want to make you do that? Couldn’t have been all on my account.”

“Why not?” you ask with a frown.

Eddie lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “Listen, Harrington. I don’t see you as someone who goes around punching people for the hell of it. You’re one of the nicest people in this hell hole of a town. The jackass must’ve done something to deserve it.”

“He did,” you say. “He called you a freak.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he says, leaning in towards you with a conspiratorial whisper. “But most people do.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” you say with a frown. “You’re not. And I hate how Jason always does it in front of a crowd. It’s like he needs to put you down in front of others to prove he’s this king or whatever. So, someone needed to knock him off his throne in front of people, too.”

“My knight in shining cheer skirt,” Eddie teases with a wink. He’s shocked when your face goes red and you’re unable to look him in the eye. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The heat in your face is getting worse by the second and you feel it’s only a matter of time before you crack. 

“You sure? I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

God, that’s the last thing Eddie could ever make you feel. You immediately shake your head, refusing to let him think those thoughts even for a moment. 

“No, no, not at all. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just an…awkward person,” you say with a wince. 

“Maybe I like awkward,” Eddie says, gently kicking his black boot against your white sneaker. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and they have plenty of room to buzz about, seeing as you hadn’t gotten to eat your lunch.

“Maybe I like awkward, too,” you say softly. 

Eddie smirks. “Oh, then you must adore me, Harrington.”

“Maybe I do,” you say with a shrug, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with him. 

“Well, maybe I like sweet, pretty cheerleaders who can sucker punch like Bruce Lee and talk to me about horror movies.”

Your mind stopped listening after Eddie called you “pretty” though. Did he really think that? Or was he just saying it to be nice? 

“Hmm,” you muse. “Guess I should send Hailey Hudson from the team your way to talk about Halloween then, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and the same sensation as when you made him laugh before fills your body. 

“Nightmare on Elm Street is more my cup of tea,” Eddie says. “Plus, talking to any other cheerleader bedsides you doesn’t seem very appealing to me.”

“Miss Harrington,” Principal Higgins says, sticking his head out of his office. “You can come in now.” He steps back inside, and you release a sigh. Of course talking to Eddie would have to come to an end eventually, but why now?

“Well,” you say, standing up from the bench. “Guess it’s time to hear my sentence.”

“Maybe if you get released early for good behavior, we could grab pizza sometime?” Eddie looks nervous, and that alone makes you want to laugh. Why on earth would he be nervous asking if you wanted to hang out? 

“That sounds great,” you say, the euphoric smile unable to stay off your face no matter how hard you try. 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, seeming shocked. 

“Why do you sound surprised?” you ask with a giggle. Taking courage from the fact that he seems to be getting nervous around you as well, you decide to be a little bolder. “I don’t just throw punches for anyone, you know.”

The most endearing smile grows on Eddie’s face, and he places one of his ring-clad hands over his heart. 

“I am very honored to have the most beautiful girl in school defending my honor.” He outstretches his hand out to you as you begin to walk backwards towards the principal’s office. “I’ll wait for you.” 

You can’t help but giggle. “I’ll have my parole officer contact you.”

“Should be easy since I’m in the phone book.”

“I’ll make sure to let her know. Bye, Munson.”

“See you later, Harrington.” He gives you one last smile before you step into the office.

The worst part isn’t the detention you were given or that you have to apologize to Carver. It’s that you’re told to call your parents to come and get you. Apparently, the school nurse is out for the day, and they can’t have you staying in school with a potentially injured hand. It hardly even hurts anymore, but you’re not going to let them know that. Let them think that you’ll be headed to the hospital for all you care. 

When you pick up the phone from the desk, your finger hovers over the numbers. Principal Higgins is sitting right there, making sure you’re going to tell your parents exactly why you need to be picked up. At the last second though, you dial a different number. 

“Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve. How can I help you?”

“Uh, hi, Dad,” you say, gripping at the receiver pressed against your ear. 

“Dad?” you hear Steve ask in confusion. “This is—”

“I-I know,” you say. “I’m just calling, Dad, because I need you to pick me up from school. I’m in Principal Higgins’ office. 

You can tell Steve understands now by the sigh that comes across the line. “What did you do?”

“Well, my hand is injured, and the nurse isn’t on duty today, so they don’t want me staying at school while I’m hurt and no one can check it out.”

“Tell him why it’s injured,” Principal Higgins says.

“Yes, tell me,” Steve echoes, obviously being able to hear his former principal’s words.

“I, um, I punched Jason Carver,” you say.

“You did what?!” Steve all but screams.

“He called Eddie Munson a freak in front of the whole cafeteria.” You say this piece looking Higgins dead in the eye. Are you going to do anything about that? you want to ask. “So, I punched Carver to shut him up.”

“Honestly, I’m impressed,” Steve says. 

“Thanks. So, uh, can you come get me?”

“My shift is over in ten minutes,” Steve says. “I’ll head there as soon as I get out of here.”

“Thanks, St—uh, Dad. I’ll see you soon.” You hang up the phone and Principal Higgins stares at you over the rims of his glasses.

“He on his way?” he asks.

“He’ll be here soon.”

“I can’t believe you punched Jason Carver,” Steve says, shaking his head in amusement as he drives you home. 

“He’s an asshole,” you defend with a shrug. 

“Over Munson, though?” Steve asks incredulously. “Seriously? Couldn’t have picked another hill to die on?”

“Nope,” you say through gritted teeth. Crossing your arms over your chest, you stare out the passenger window. 

“Why Munson, though, I—” Steve cuts himself off with a groan and shakes his head. “Oh, no. Please tell me I’m wrong.” 

“I’d love to,” you reply. “But I need to know what you’re wrong about first.”

“Munson isn’t the guy you want to date, is he?” Steve asks nervously.

Your face gets hot for what feels like the millionth time in the past few days. But that’s all the confirmation your brother needs, because he’s letting out a groan that makes it sound like he’s in agony.

“You really have a thing for the Freak?”

“I have one good fist left,” you say. “Want me to use it on you?”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad about your detention then,” Steve says with a shrug.

“Then I’d tell them about you moving the dirty magazines from beneath your bed into the air vent,” you counter.

“How do you even know about that?” Steve asks, shooting you a glare before looking back at the road. 

“Your room and mine share the same vent and I can hear the pages rustling when the air is on.”

“You’re the worst,” Steve grumbles. 

“You also have no room to complain with some of the trash you’ve dated,” you point out. 

“Are you and Munson…a thing?” Steve asks, sounding like he hates every syllable of the question.

“No,” you tell him. “But he asked me to go get pizza with him. So, maybe soon.”

“And that will make you happy?” your brother asks.

A smile comes to your face just thinking about it. “It would.”

Steve nods his head and lets out a deep breath as if he’s resigning himself to the fact that you have feelings for Eddie. 

“Okay, but you’re telling Mom and Dad.”

[hyunjinsjeans]

Breakfast in bed (Bangchan x Reader)

Summary: going with Chan on his trip to America you can’t let an opportunity to give it a try to have that baby you talked about pass you by.

Type: Fluff 🧸, NSFW 🔞

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex (don’t do it, guys!) , little proofreading.

Word count: 2263 words

Related: He Knows (Chan ver.)

Masterlist Here

AN: This fic is a part 2 to Bangchan’s version of the He Knows Series. It can also be read as a stand alone. There is so little plot, I’m a little sorry. I’m also a little shy around smut still but I’m trying guys 👉👈This is the first one! Let’s go!

You breathe in the morning air. America has been wonderful, after Chan decided to bring you along only a few days before the departure date, you had to get the days off from work and plan accordingly.

Chan finds himself dragging you behind him everywhere, he cannot help it. While he is in his leader mindset, he is also so unable to disconnect from you. You experience his bossy side first hand. He is strict and direct, and he does not play games with the boys whenever they begin having too much fun during dance practice.

Chicago has been kind to the boys, even though they have spent little time on their own personal interests, you still find yourself having a great time seeing them all do what they love. Their set was a massive hit, the boys had great fun and Felix went a little overboard on stage… You enjoyed the show from a spot backstage with some of their staff as well as Changbin!Reader and Felix!Reader who had made it with their little ones.

“Hey… what are you doing all the way over there?” He drops his arm over his eyes as he lays on his back in the bed.

You hear his voice and smile from the open balcony. You turn in your old snoopy pj shorts and shirt and look at him, forgetting about the birds that fly above the busy city. You’ve already made coffee on the coffee machine in the small hotel room, the small mug between your hands.

“Morning, sleepy head!” You step aside and close the balcony sliding door. “I was just having a second with my thoughts, how’d you sleep?”

Chan sighs but does not move a muscle, still tired. You walk up to the bed, leaving the coffee on the bedside table and sit next to him, placing your hand on his forearm you pull the limb away from his face and whisper.

“Mmm, that good?” You arch an eyebrow and watch him whine.

He rolls on his side and wraps his arm around you, dragging you down onto the bed beside him. “Yeah, it’s nice to share a hotel room with you…”

You complain as you drop on the bed, hands go reach out to him on instinct. “Chan!” You can hear him chuckle at your plea. “I’m telling Lee Know you don’t like sharing rooms with him.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you, “tell him something he doesn’t know…”

You push his messy hair away from his face and examine his face. Eyes closed and expression full of glee. He takes a deep breath and you put your hand against his cheek, he smiles and puts his hand on top of yours, turning his face to kiss your palm.

“I’m so glad you could come. I miss you so much when you stay home.” He admits in a soft voice.

You hum and lean in to kiss his nose. “I know. I feel weird when you’re travelling.”

Chan opens his eyes and meets your gaze, his hand reaches out to touch your face too, his fingers drag along your temple and fix a strand of your hair behind your ear. You lean against him and let him turn to lay on his back again, now pulling you softly into his chest. You wrap your leg around his and let your arm rest on his stomach while your head finds the perfect spot on the crook of his neck.

“Remind me, what time are we supposed to check out?” You rub your nose against his skin, inhaling his scent with a soft smile on your face.

“This afternoon. I think they said at around 3…” his arms squeeze you against him, he closes his eyes when you start nipping at his neck, “babe, what are you doing?”

You smile and slip your hand slowly up his chest and neck until you reach his jaw, “I’m spoiling my husband, what are you doing?” You say playfully.

He chuckles, “well, obviously I’m being spoiled!”

You laugh against his skin, kissing his neck before throwing your head back to look at him.

“Should I stop?” you wait for his reply.

Chan’s grasp on you tightens, “I never said that!” He complains and you giggle in response.

“Oh, so I am allowed to give you hickeys?” You press your lips on his neck again.

“No, no, no!” He puts his hand on your hair and pulls you away softly, “I’m still the only one allowed to give hickeys.”

He stares at your neck for a moment and then his eyes meet yours, all sleep has disappeared from them all of a sudden.

“Mm, actually… let me fix you with one…” He dips his head into your neck and pushes his plush lips against your neck.

You close your eyes as his breath hits your skin and you feel him nibbling on the sensitive spot right under your ear. Your head falls on the pillow and you run your hands up and down his naked chest. He presses his body against you and you grip onto his shoulder, pulling him on top of you as you roll onto your back.

“Looks so pretty, babe.” He whispers when he pulls away and watches the small mark on your neck.

With a cloudy mind you sigh, while he is fully awake now you feel like you’re being put into a trance.

“Chan,” you whisper, combing his hair back with your fingers. “You do realise I have to walk behind you at the airport, right? Now sporting this thing on my neck.”

He smiles and chuckles, “couldn’t help it…” He brushes his nose against yours. “I remember seeing you dance and jump around last night. You looked so cute, so excited to watch us perform. I’m glad you had fun.”

You nod with your head still on the pillow. Looking up at Chan you understand a little better why he wanted you to come. It has been a couple of months since you two decided to grow the family, encouraged by those members who already had kids. The night before you had helped Changbin!Reader with her two year old, Hajoon. She was an excitable little girl and you had a lot of fun holding her and dancing, playing with her small hands as she giggled with her big noise cancelling headphones. Obviously, Chan was eager to watch you have that same kind of fun with a child of your own.

“Aw, are you getting the baby fever?” You tease him, “welcome to my life, be thankful LeeKnow!Reader couldn’t be here, I’m a fool for their baby boy!”

Chan giggles, giving your lips a soft peck.

“Don’t worry, you can be a fool for our baby too. Let’s work on that, yeah?” He proposes.

“Oh, you’re on a schedule now? Is it time for that?” You tease.

“Mmmhm,” He kisses you, smiling into the kiss. “It’s time.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair on the back of his head, letting his tongue into your mouth once he licks your bottom lip. You bring your leg up to his hip and feel his hand pull it up against his side. Your hand goes to find his arm and you hold on to him, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He kisses down your neck and bites every so often, making you gasp and let out little whispered sounds. He pulls your shirt and shorts off and has you laying on your back naked in a few minutes. His hands touch your legs from the ankle to the back of your knee, to your thighs and then his strong hands grip your hips. You reach up and touch his naked chest.

Chan grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand, before leaning down and kissing your stomach, right above your belly button. You whine under his kiss but let him kiss an agonisingly slow path down your belly and between your legs.

He really gives no warning before his face is buried into you, his hands holding your legs apart over his shoulders.

You gasp under his mouth and put a hand on his hair, fingers tangle with his dark locks while your other hand holds on to fistfulls of the bedsheets. You throw your head back as his tongue works on your most sensitive spot, making sure you are absolutely ready for him. You pant with a strong string tightening inside you, breathing seems so difficult as he laps at your folds, his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit. He hums into your sensitive knob and you gasp loudly, legs shaking in his grasp. He keeps going, eating you out like a starved man, only stopping after you cum on his mouth. You call out his name, your back arching off the bed as you do. He kisses your thighs and then your belly and up to your chest, his hands now eager to grope your breasts, he speaks against your chest, lips brushing your skin as he does so. “So pretty, babe… you’ll be even prettier with our baby…”

You nod, lazy hand landing on his shoulder. “Mmhm,” you kiss his lips, “I can’t wait…”

He leans into your kiss and struggles to kick off his boxers fast enough, you laugh as he has to step off the bed to get them off. Smiling, you sit up in the middle of the bed and wrap your arms around your weakened legs and stare. He looks back at you with a sheepish smile on his face as he stands fully naked before you.

“What are you laughing at?” He climbs onto the bed again, his hands land on your knees and he pulls them apart slowly, still face to face with you as you sit up.

“I’m thinking I love you,” you caress his cheek. “And that I am so eager to have your baby one day, hopefully soon…”

It is not spoken, but as the time has gone on and you’re still a couple months into trying for a baby, the two of you have relaxed a lot about the topic. Especially you, since the stress of it was not doing you any good. Chan feels his heart fill with hope when you say those words. He wants the same thing you want and he knows the uncertainty of the situation is hard to cope with, everytime you get a period it’s both of you who deal with the disappointment. Everytime you’re together like this, you remind each other that it’s not a “task”, that you’re doing it because you want to, because it means something.

He sighs and his shoulders relax, he laughs to himself and grabs your face. “I love you too, Y/N. And I can’t wait either…”

You cup his face and bring your lips to his, he leans the rest of the way and he pushes you down slowly, hovering over you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He slips his hand between your bodies and guides himself inside you. You grip his shoulders and moan into his ear as he starts kissing down your neck. You feel him sink in, all the way in until there is no more space between you. He whispers in your ear but at that moment he starts moving. His hips snap against yours and you plant your feet on the bed, head thrown back.

“Channie…”

He hums and groans into your skin. Picking up the pace, it becomes almost unbearable the way he reaches the most sensitive spot inside you, your legs shaking with the imminent release approaching. You dig your fingers into his back and meet his every move, hips meeting his.

“...so close, Chan… ‘m so close…” You let him know in a whine.

He pulls your legs up, his hands find the back of your knees and he pushes them against your chest as he keeps going.

“It’s okay, babe… I’ve got you,” he basically folds you in half as he continues with a fast pace.

You grab onto the bed sheets and soon find the drag of his cock inside you too much, a loud moan falling from your lips as you cum. He gasps and fucks you through it, his hips stuttering a couple of times before he suddenly lands a hand on the headboard behind your head.

“That’s it babe, I’m going to… gonna cum too.” He announces.

Only a couple thrusts later, his warm cum is spilling inside you. You reach up and pull his hand down kissing his bicep before he lets go of your other leg and you can fully wrap yourself around him.

You let Chan kiss your lips, your cheek and your neck before he pulls away and peppers your collarbone with kisses as well.

“You’re so extra…” you joke, he chuckles and asks why, “because you didn’t have to put me in a mating press!”

He breathes in, “oh, you love it…”

You put your hands on your face, unable to deny his statement. You hear him laughing and cannot help yourself but smile.

“See?” He kisses your hands still on your face. “Hey, I’ve got a good feeling about this…”

You let him take your hands away from your face and smile at one another, hopeful but unaware this would be the moment that would change your lives.

———

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I've never asked anyone in my entire tumblr presence, I'm excited you'll be the first, even if it doesn't get done 🙏☆♡🥬

Anyways, I feel like there is a very sad amount of Soap content on here so like..idk maybe pining Soap fluff??

He's totally the type of guy to follow someone around like a lovesick puppy and everyone notices except the person of interest LOL

Congrats on the milestone btw!! You deserve it 😼😼

—Oblivious Pining

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞

Everyone had seen it, and at this point, it had just become painful. The soft, gentle eyes—the instantaneous smile whenever your unit showed up, your form not for a second missed to those cobalt blues. The deepening color of his cheeks was another tell, along with how he would clear his throat whenever your eye caught his, quickly looking away as if a teenager sneaking glances at his crush.

Which was what precisely was happening, actually—minus the teenager part.

But the worst of it was that you had absolutely no clue.

Perhaps it was because you’d grown so used to his teasing attitude, or even his touches or his open expressions, but you, truly, hadn’t the faintest clue that those actions were Johnny’s way of saying he was interested in you. You went about your joint missions together, touching shoulders and smiling widely, and everyone was about ready to go right back to war just so the two of you could stop it with the puppy eyes already. 

“I’m losing my mind,” Gaz utters, blinking in rapid succession at the two forms as they walk side by side across the tarmac. “I am absolutely losing my damn mind.” The exasperation can be taken and scooped with a spoon. The Sergeant gestures with his hand. “Are they bloody blind? Both of them?”

“Seems like it,” the Captain grunts, eyes narrowed and arms crossed as Soap’s hand comes up and ruffles your hair, you swat him away and playfully punch his shoulder. The Scot fake balks back in imaginary pain. 

Price rubs a hand over his beard with a sigh as Ghost blankly stares from behind them, leaning back against the base’s walls. The Lieutenant breathes out, “Fuckin’ hell. Gonna be dead ‘fore these bastards figure it out.”

Your unit was sharing most of the same looks, rolling their eyes and placing bets once more on whether one of you would make a move. Across the way your face is comfortably heated, heart hammering and yearning for something more. Johnny thinks the same as he chuckles, one hand going to itch at the side of his head.

“Well, it was more than good to see you again, Dearie.” He says, and you huff a laugh. “There’s nothing better than watchin’ you work, eh?” 

It’s a tease laced with truth, and you shift your feet, trying to hide the sudden flip of your intestines.

“Quit it, MacTavish,” your smile is infectious, and you send a glance at the setting sun before your smirk gradually grows. “In my opinion, you all hot and sweaty beats that out of the park.”

“Oh, aye,” the Scot cockily tilts his head, raising a brow as his stubble moves back. “Know it does.” 

You chuff, head looking away in childish glee. “You’re impossible.” 

“Ah,” he licks his lips, leaning back on his heels. “Don’t worry now, Little Lady, I’m all yours to figure out—I promise.” The flirting was a constant from both parties, and neither of you tired of it. 

A small silence grew, and over the course of the last month or so, the pauses had become more and more frequent when the want to speak prevailed, but no one knew what exactly to say. You both blink at one another, noticing that you’ve both been staring heavily. 

Johnny’s throat clears, and he licks his lips before quickly looking away; you awkwardly chuckle and decide that his vest is the most interesting thing in the world.

Both small teams want to bash their heads into a wall. 

“I’ll be seeing you?” Johnny sighs softly, speaking as his accent grows deeper with thought. He wanted to scold himself for his cowardness but had no idea that you were doing the same. 

“Of course,” you nod firmly. “I’m not as big of a fool to ignore my favorite Demolitions Expert.”

“You’re makin’ go all shy now, ya little beast,” Johnny levels, his cheeks gaining a reddish hue. 

You spare a laugh, and that silence once more returns. He wants to tell you, but he’s not sure how, and that itself makes his body tense with indecision—tell you the truth, or live with his own hesitation on your answer. Spare the man, he was too blind to see how much you already adored him.

Blinking away, you clench your jaw and hold out your hand. “Until next time, Sergeant.”

Johnny smiles lightly, eyes going soft. There were so many things he’d accomplished in his life by running head-long into them; by barging down doors and thinking of an exit while his foot was already halfway outside. But this…this he didn’t mind taking his time with. 

You were worth every second. 

Johnny gently grasps your hand, squeezing it as he hums, lips twitching. The teams would have to wait in their annoyance for another day. 

“Until next time, Dearie. Don’t be a stranger.”

[hyunsvngs]

hyunsvngbinimas!

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

warnings: u fuck jisung with a dildo made from his own cock, sub!jisung, dom!reader, degradation, sph, mommy kink, unprotected sex, jisung cums twice, a lil bit of feminisation, cumswapping

You’ve been holding it for about five minutes now. You’re not sure what to say. 

It’s a dildo, complete with veins and a tip, silicone bouncing everytime you move your hand. A red bow is tied neatly around it, like some sort of comedic gift. Is this a joke? It has to be a joke, but everytime your eyes flit to Jisung, he’s still beaming with a content look in those round eyes. He got you a dildo for Christmas.

“You got me a dildo for Christmas,” You deadpan, an eyebrow raised. It’s not that you’re not excited because in all fairness, the dildo is the perfect size for you. Chubby, with a flared mushroom tip and not too long, not too short either - just big enough. You’re just confused. It kind of reminds you of-

“It’s not just a dildo! It’s my dick, look!” He points to the present excitedly, unabashed glee in his eyes. “It’s the same as mine. I got one of those kits and put my dick in it. Kinda felt good, to be honest.”

You giggle, running your fingertips up the shaft once more. “I knew I recognised it,” You muse, and Jisung shifts to get closer and stare at the toy. The wrapping paper on the sofa scrunches under his knees. “Chubby cock, veiny. Perfect length. Did you want to see me fuck myself with this?”

Jisung blanches, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Well, it’s- yeah,” He admits, round cheeks turning pink. You pull him closer by his shoulders, letting him nuzzle into your neck in his shyness. He’s so cute, especially in his cute little plaid Christmas bottoms and an oversized hoodie. He looks so boyfriend. He gains the courage, hot breath panning over your skin as he speaks. “I thought maybe you could send me videos when I’m away, too. I got you other presents too, but I thought this would help you the most when you miss me.”

He’s right. When Jisung’s away, you do sit and think wistfully about his cock before fucking yourself with your fingers and whining that it’s not enough. He likes hearing about it, likes thinking about how needy you are for him, but it would be good to have a little help when he’s gone. It would stop you thinking about his cock, his mouth, his ass-

Wait.

“Sungie,” You begin, and he shivers. He must know what you’re about to say. He cuddles closer to you, fingers gripping on the fabric of your shirt as he hums in response. It’s shaky. “Baby, would you let me fuck your ass with this?”

He whines. It’s long, drawn out, and fully desperate. “I- baby, that’s dirty,” He gushes, acting the perfect image of anguish, but he’s already climbing into your lap. “I- it’s for you, not for me!”

“You’ve already thought about it, haven’t you?” You smile, and he shakes his head vehemently. He’s on your lap now though, cock already solid and pressing at the front of his cute bottoms, hair lit up by the lights on the Christmas tree behind him. His toes curl in his socks while he tries to get comfortable on you, cheeks pink and pouty lips just slightly parted with every breath he takes. He’s already fucked up just from the idea of it. You toss the dildo to the side of the couch, running your thumb over his bottom lip. He shivers again. “Tell me.”

Jisung shifts on your lap, erection pressing against the bottom of your stomach. “It’s- I- maybe it would be hot,” He begins, and then he shakes his head rapidly, eyes blinking shut. “Okay, yeah, I did think about it. I- my ass, it’s- baby, feel.”

He grabs your hand, shoving it down the back of his bottoms. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he hasn’t worn boxers for this gift giving exchange, and even more pleasantly surprised to find that his hole is slick with lube. Wait. Slick with lube.

“Sungie, baby, you’re so wet for me,” You run two fingers over his hole, and he whines, bucking his hips forward. “You wanted it that badly? Why didn’t you ask, princess?”

“I- I-” He’s huffing with every breath, cock heavy and hips canting back into your fingers. You hook a finger just past his rim, making him gasp with shock. He’s looser than you expected. It makes you smile. “Nervous. I- It’s weird, it’s kind of dirty, isn’t it? It’s- it’s my cock, and-”

Oh. It’s that type of scene. Jisung’s a self proclaimed slut, and he wants you to tell him it’s dirty, and wants you to be a little mean to him. You could do that. 

“Mm, it is dirty,” You agree, nodding. Jisung stares at you, wide eyes, licking his lips over and over. You pull your hand back, and then you’re pushing two fingers past his rim instead. This time, you let them sink right down to the knuckles, and he moans, head lolling back. “This pussy’s so fucking wet for me. I think you’re already ready, you stretched it out that much. Fuckin’ whore.”

Jisung nods eagerly, feet kicking in his impatient state. “I am! I’m a whore for you, for you, god, can I- can I fuck your pussy, and you can fuck my ass with it while I’m inside you, please, please, please-”

“No,” You scoff, stroking over his hair with your spare hand. It makes him pout, but he leans into your touch nonetheless. “I’m fucking your ass first, and if you can hold on for long enough, you can cum inside my pussy.”

“Hnnng, that’s mean! You’re so mean, you know I’ll cum,” Jisung pouts, and you just giggle in response. The laugh makes your eyes crinkle, and Jisung lets himself make a purely fond smile of his own. “You’re so pretty.”

“Yeah? Mommy’s pretty?” You question, head tilting to the side. Jisung shifts on your lap at the use of the title, nodding shyly. “Why don’t you strip off for mommy, honey? Show me that pussy, yeah?”

Jisung dives off of you, yanking his bottoms down and pulling his hoodie over his head. It leaves him fully naked on the sofa, bent over and presenting his ass to you. His thick cock hangs heavy between his legs, balls looking agonisingly full just from a bit of dirty talk and ass looking slick with his antics beforehand. You slide your hands down his back, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingers. You reach around and grab his ass, spreading his cheeks and exposing the tight hole between. You lean in and lick his rim, teasing him with the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t tease, mommy!” He protests, shaking his head. He leans down further, head resting on his arms to tilt his ass further back for you. “Gimme it. I’m ready, I’m ready, if you lick me there I’ll cum.”

“Slut,” You muse fondly, using a hand to flip him over onto his back. He’s pliant, instantly wrapping his hands in the pits of his knees to pull them to his chest, bent in half. It exposes his hole to you, clenching and unclenching impatiently. You grab the dildo, and before he can say anything, you’re pushing the head past his tight hole.

“Oh, yes,” He nods, tongue lolling out of his mouth. You snicker, pushing the silicone the rest of the way in. It meets little to no resistance, bottoming out quickly and making him shift his hips. “Fuck me with it, c’mon, mommy, fuck me with it! I need it, c’mon.”

“Shut up, Sungie,” You admonish, shaking your head in disbelief. Jisung giggles, shoulders shaking with the cute laugh, and then you’re pumping it in steadily. He shifts his hips, trying to get it to hit that delicious spot inside of him, and when he lets out a long, anguished noise, you know he’s found it. “There? Is that hitting your g-spot, baby? Dirty princess.”

“Oh, oh, keep- mama, keep talking like that, please! Faster, mommy, mama, please, faster!” 

He’s thrashing around already despite the slow pace, and when you finally speed up, his hands drop from his legs to grip the sofa. You push his legs back with your spare arm to keep him in position, forearm firm on his lower thighs, and he starts to bounce against the thrusts.

“Is that good?” You question, and he nods eagerly, unabashed whines and high-pitched moans falling from his parted lips. “Yeah, I can tell. Look at you, whining like a little whore. I know you would’ve preferred to ride my strap, feel that cock deep inside your slutty hole.”

Jisung practically wails, head shaking rapidly. “Don’t- don’t- don’t make me cum, mommy, mama, mommymommymommy, please, please, please, don’t make me cum, I wanna cum inside, please-” He’s babbling, eyes clenched tightly shut and fingers gripping the edge of the sofa in his lust-filled haze. Despite his words, his hips are bouncing back onto the silicone, cock jumping with every thrust and adding to the pool of precum on his honey-toned tummy. 

“You want me to stop, baby? But what if I just sit on your cock after you cum? Do you think you could cum again for me?”

“Yes!” He wails, nodding rapidly. His hips buck onto the dildo a few more times, little “ah, ah, ah”’s being let out with every thrust of your hand into his hole. “I can cum again! I can, I can, I’ll do it for you, for mama, please!”

“You’re so pathetic, baby,” You coo, leaning over him to kiss his neck. It makes him whine even more, pink flush travelling down to his neck and chest. “Cumming so quickly from this small cock. How can you even feel anything? I know I can’t when it’s inside me.”

A loud moan, a gasp, and then he’s spilling onto his tummy untouched. The ropes of thick white cum shoot out of him, cock jumping and bobbing against his skin with the pleasure of it. You pull the dildo out softly, taking notice of the way his asshole clenches to avoid the loss. As he’s coming down from his orgasm, you wrap your free hand around his cock and pump rapidly, making him thrash and wail at the overstimulation. 

“Ah, baby. If you can’t take that, I don’t think you can take my pussy-”

“I can! Mama, just fuckin’- just sit on it, I promise. I can, look, I’m still hard,” He grips his cock at the base, showing you the unflagging erection. He’s not lying. His cock is covered in his own release, but it remains solid, chubby and messy for you. His eagerness makes you giggle, and he watches with wide eyes as you pull your underwear down, and then you’re sitting on his cock in one go.

Seeing him whine and thrash around like a slut had gotten you way too wet, and Jisung notices. His eyes roll back into his head at the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, tight walls soaked with your excitement. 

“Oh, baby,” You moan, high pitched and desperate. Jisung’s hands go up to your tits beneath your shirt, grabbing almost painfully, and you let him. You’re too needy at this point, and your hips start to rock against him. His cock always presses perfectly against your walls, ridges and veins hitting you just right and fucking against that sensitive spot inside of you. “Mm, that cock’s so good. Fucking mommy just right, ‘s so good Sungie.”

“Yeah, ‘s good?” He huffs, thrusting up against you. It’s obvious by the tears in his eyes that he’s desperately trying to calm down from the overstimulation, but he tries to stay good for you nonetheless. “Pussy’s so good, please- please go faster, please make me cum again, please?”

“I’ll make you cum again, Sungie, mommy’s got you,” You reassure, nodding, and then you splay your hands on his chest. Your fingernails dig into his pecs, flesh spilling around your fingers, and then you’re bouncing. 

You ignore the ache and strain in your thighs in favour of fucking down onto his cock over and over, the mess of your pussy mixed with his previous release making slick slapping noises in your living room. The noises make Jisung whine, head rolling around in pleasure. 

“Mommy, mommy, hnnnnnfg…” He slurs, drool slicking his bottom lip. “So wet. So wet on Sungie’s cock, so wet, so wet, mommy, please cum, please, need it.”

“You need my cum?” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his cock grinding against your walls. It’s almost too wet, but you fight through it to get some more friction in your hole. You slide two fingers past Jisung’s lips, and he blinks up at you in shock, sucking them diligently. Taking the two fingers down to your pussy, you rub over your clit, sensitive and swollen past your slick folds. 

“Oh, yeeeees,” Jisung nods, eyes flickering down to watch you touch yourself. “Rub that clit for me, so dirty. Dirty mommy, oh, I’ll cum again if you keep going so fast-”

“Cum then,” You scoff, rubbing harder on your clit. The circles you form on the nub are imprecise, but the friction is just enough to have you hurtling towards your orgasm. You’re too excited, too eager after fucking his hole open. “C-Cum and I’ll cum with you, Sungie, c’mon. Squirt it all inside mommy, please, baby.”

“Okay, okay, okay, I can, I’ll cum, I’ll-” He cuts himself off by gripping firmly on your ass, and then he’s thrusting up into you. His hips slap against yours, eyes rolling back into his head as he fucks you hard and fast to cum inside of your pussy. You surge forward, fingers digging harder into his pecs at the change in pace, moaning at the stimulation on your g-spot. Your hand drops from your clit, but you can’t even think about it with the way he’s fucking into you. 

“Oh, mommy’s gonna cum, baby, keep fucking me just like that,” You keen, and then you’re cumming. Jisung wails through your cunt fluttering around him, hole clenching and unclenching around his shaft. 

After a few more thrusts, his hips still on an inwards thrust, cock pressed tightly against your cervix and you can feel him spilling inside you. It’s less than it normally would be given his previous orgasm, but it still leaks out around his cock and fills your hole to the point you’re panting, head dropping to loll into his neck. Jisung sighs a heavy puff of air, wrapping his hand around your head to keep you close as he slips out. 

His cock is still half hard, only slightly flagging, and he dips his fingers into your pussy to collect yours and his cum. He turns to you, the white substance stringing his digits together.

“Open wide, jagi,” He muses, and you let your lips part, his fingers forcing your mixed fluids into your mouth. You let them rest on your tongue, and then he’s kissing you, tongue soft and wet in your mouth to taste the release. There’s a few wet slaps of your lips together, a messy exchange, and then he’s pulling away with a stupid grin.

You blink, knowing he’s about to say something stupid. “Jisung.”

“I guess we are having a white Christmas, huh?” He giggles, hands wrapping around your middle. You roll your eyes playfully, kissing his nose. 

“You’re so fucking dumb, Sungie.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

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