#mostly because I’ll still have teeth

[sexswansworld]

If you aren’t down to let me constantly bite your arms and chest and thighs and legs and face and neck and shoulders and ass and-

Anyway, if you aren’t down for that what are we even doing?

[avocado-writing]

cutman

turns out I’m gonna keep being horny for hugh jackman. had a crush on him when I was 10 and I guess that hasn’t changed almost 20 years later. anyway here’s a fic where he’s in a cage fight and you’re his cutman xoxo

pairing: wolverine x reader

rating: explicit

cws: blood, injury details, smut (dirty talk, semi-public sex, rough sex)

The bell rings and Logan staggers back to you, the roar of the crowd meaning you have to get close in order to be heard. You grab ahold of his biceps and manoeuvre him into a chair. He goes without complaint, any effort to resist having to be reserved for the actual fight itself. Opposite him, the other guy goes to grab a glass of water and you are once again reminded of his sheer mass; he’s twice Logan’s size and built like a fucking freight train. He catches you watching and hits you with a greasy smile, and you turn in disgust back to your lover. 

“How you holding up, honey?” you ask Logan, quickly glancing him over, getting a grunt in reply as he tries to refocus. He looks pretty bad. Bruising is flowering on his face and there’s a nasty gash on his forehead which is bleeding freely. You know he’ll heal up quick on his own, but you still get to work - pressing the ice-cold enswell to the worst of the spreading purple and dabbing at the blood with an epinephrine-soaked cotton swab. 

You’ve been called the best cutman in the business. This is true, but the fact your primary patient can heal himself up is probably a bit of a bonus too. For Logan, you’re mostly here to soothe; soothe and observe. 

“Okay, you’ve fucking got him, Logan. He’s weak on his left. He keeps trying to lead with his right hand which isn’t his dominant, I think he’s holding back because you’ve fucked his shoulder. If you don’t let him distract you, you can finish him off. You hear me?”

He focuses up at the smell of chemicals, eyes hazily locking in on you. Silhouetted by the grimy lights of this place, his vision not quite sharp yet, you have the hazy glow of a halo around you. An angel sent for him. The closest to heaven he’ll ever be. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, a bloodied hand coming up to caress your face. You smile despite the smear of red he leaves on your cheek with his fingertips, clasping him close. You press a kiss into his palm.

“What did I say, handsome? Stay with me.”

“Don’t let him distract me. Go for his left.”

“Atta boy,” you say with a grin, one which Logan manages to mirror despite still feeling slightly concussed, your praise like a shot of adrenaline. You surge forward to kiss him and he meets you with enthusiasm. He’s drunk on the moment, on the fight, on you. You can taste the copper as your tongue slides against his, the roughness of his beard scraping your cheeks. The crowd cheers leerily but you both ignore it. You and him, that’s all there is, the pinprick of your existence in this vast world. 

“I fucking love you,” he growls against your mouth. You nip at his lower lip, catching it for a second between your teeth in a promise of what’s to come later. 

“Finish this guy off and take me home, Logan. I’ll fucking die if you’re not inside me tonight.”

When you pull back you will be wearing his blood as lipstick, warpaint; a reminder that you belong to each other. 

He snarls, half-feral, and you think he might just take you there in the cage, in front of everyone who’s come to watch him fight. But the bell goes again to signal the start of the final round, and Logan staggers back to his feet instead. 

He doesn’t even get you home. 

When the fight is won and you’re hoarse from cheering his victory, he drags you into one of the dingy little bathrooms. It’s dark and definitely not soundproofed but the two of you don’t care. You run your tongue along that delicious vein in his bicep, tasting the salt off of his hot skin, and he grips your thighs so hard you know that he will leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. 

“Mark me up, Logan. Let everyone see who I belong to, baby.”

“Fuck, such a dirty little mouth,” he growls, but you can hear the gruff chuckle in there too. He lifts you onto the sink like you weigh nothing, tearing at your belt and jeans so that he can get proper access to you. He’s rock hard, cock straining in his hand as he pulls himself out, and you wonder if he’s been this turned on since before the last round. 

Usually you’d sink to your knees and encourage him to fuck your throat, let him bring you to tears before he made it up to you, but he has no such patience now. He needs to sheathe himself in you, find your tight heat and bury himself there again and again. He’s about to push inside when you grab his forearm. 

He looks up with a glint of worry in his eye. You know, just for a second, that he thinks he’s hurt you. He’d stop if you asked him to, sweet little puppy. Instead you give him another ferocious kiss. 

“I wanna turn around. Wanna watch you fuck me.” You nod to the dirty mirror over the sink and he makes a deep noise of agreement in the back of his throat, manhandling you so you can brace yourself on the porcelain. 

You moan as he fucks inside of you with one vicious push, throwing your head back to reflect the long line of your neck. You see mirrored the dual look of feral desire and total adoration in his face as he fucks you like he’s been challenged to make your legs stop working. Holding on the best you can, you watch his injuries from the fight heal slowly, wounds stitching closed by themselves, bruises receding from purple to brown to nothing at all. It’s that sort of regeneration that makes him beg for you to draw blood when you bite him as you fuck, just to leave the proof on his body a little longer that you’ve been there. That you’ve loved him. 

“Fucking love you, Logan,” you cry out as he slams so hard into you he threatens to break the fucking sink. He leans over and grabs you by the hair, moving your face so that he can kiss you with more teeth and tongue than lips. You love it. 

“Mine,” he chokes. You wrap your little hands round one of his, bloodied and rough. 

“Mine,” you echo back, sinking your teeth in. 

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[moonstruckme]

Hey !

So I've just come out of a week with an absolutely awful cold where I lost my voice and it was absolutely exhausting.

So, if you'd like I wanted to request a poly!marauders x sick reader with fluff and coddling when reader lost her voice and they're being overprotective and soft . Maybe emt!marauders? As you'd like ✨️

Thank you 💕 🌸

Ugh hope you feel better soon my love <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 915 words

Sirius’ thumb draws circles into the fat of your hip, your head heavy against his chest. You’re letting your cheek smush against the material of his shirt, your entire body lax with lethargy. You really feel mostly fine, but it’s difficult not to indulge in some self-pity when your boyfriends are treating you so tenderly. 

“Are you tired, love?” Remus’ voice is low and dulcet, his eyes honey-colored in the afternoon light spilling through the window as he watches you from his chair. 

“No,” you rasp. His eyebrows stitch together compassionately. “Just comfortable.” 

You can very nearly feel the smugness emanating from Sirius at that. He kisses the top of your head, and Remus rolls his eyes at whatever face he’s made that you can’t see. 

“Do you want to try to gargle some saltwater before you have your tea?” Remus asks. 

You sigh, sinking further into Sirius’ side. “Maybe later.” 

“Oh, sweetheart, please stop.” James hisses through his teeth as he carries in a steaming cup of tea. “It hurts me when you talk, you sound so awful.” 

You shoot him a wry look—thanks—and Sirius grins. 

“I think you sound dead sexy,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

You laugh, and even that sounds warped and awful. “Yeah?” you say, reaching up for the tea as James passes it to you. Your voice squeaks, cracking horrifically. “Just like this?” 

“Prick.” James sits down beside you on the couch, kicking halfheartedly at Sirius’ leg. “Don’t encourage her.” 

You have to quell your giggling before you trust yourself to take a sip of your tea. It’s so sweet you think it might be half honey, not that you’re complaining; the effect is immediate relief for your raw throat. Remus unpauses the film you were watching, and James pulls one of your feet into his lap, massaging it like a stress ball through the material of your fuzzy sock. Sirius is still drawing heavy circles into your hip, and despite your claims of alertness, you’re well on your way to actually falling asleep when you notice Remus has turned subtly away from the TV and appears to be scrutinizing you. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Sweetheart,” James begs, his fingers tensing around your foot, “please.” 

“You really won’t let me check your throat for strep?” Remus asks. 

For James’ sake, you confine your response to a shake of your head. 

“Why not?” he presses, fully turning his back on the film. “If it was strep, we could get you some medicine. I don’t like seeing you sick, dove.” 

You send him a sorry little smile, but your answer hasn’t changed. 

“Why don’t you let him just have a look?” James coaxes. Sirius’ free hand comes up, laying flat over your forehead as he checks again for a fever. 

“Because it’s gross,” you say. James winces but doesn’t complain. “And because I think my breath must be awful. It’s only been a couple of days anyway.” 

“It could be a lot longer if it is strep throat and you don’t treat it,” Remus points out.

James leans closer to you, beckoning. “Give me a breath, and I’ll let you know if it’s horrid.” 

“No!” you lean away from him, laughing. 

“Why not?” 

“Bec—” Sirius takes the opportunity to get his index finger in your mouth, wedging it between your teeth. 

“Sirius!” you squeak, all the s’s of his name reduced to vague shushing sounds. “What are you doing?” 

James and Remus snicker at your lisping, but Sirius is the picture of cool composure, watching you steadily as you wrap your hand around his wrist. You give a tug, but he curls his finger around the inside of your bottom teeth and holds fast. 

“I could sit like this all day,” he says, disgustingly proud of himself, “or you could let Remus check your throat for pesky little spots.” 

You stare him down. The problem with Sirius is, he stares right back, and it’s difficult to feel very intimidating when you’ve got his finger sticking out of your mouth. He drops one eyelid in a wink. You’re loath to give into his smugness, but after a few seconds you roll your eyes.

James takes your tea from you as Remus comes forward, getting out his phone light and stooping over you, and you allow Sirius to tip your mouth open. 

“Ugh, rank!” he jokes, immune to the glare you send his way. Remus ignores you both, steadying himself with a hand at your jaw as he peers inside your mouth. 

“Stick your tongue out, dove?” he requests, and you do, heat creeping up your neck. James squeezes your foot sympathetically. 

“I think,” Remus says softly, brows furrowing as he looks a moment longer, “you’re in the clear.” 

You let out a little cough, curling towards your chest as he steps away and James and Sirius cheer. 

“Told you,” you can’t help but say, voice scraping. 

“You were right, angel,” James indulges you, squeezing up the length of your calf. “So what does this mean?” 

Remus shrugs. “That it’s probably not strep throat. Could be anything else, we likely won’t know unless it gets worse.” 

“Steady diet of tea and honey?” Sirius asks gravely. 

“Certainly,” James answers in the same serious tone. “And rest. Lots of rest. Probably shouldn’t move on her own.” 

“So, business as usual,” you joke. Remus chuckles as Sirius stamps a kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Smart girl,” he praises. “Glad the fever’s not gone to your head yet.” 

[jophiel-shakes]

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summary :: Alastor during a rut

warning :: nsfw

note :: requests are still open

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Alastor isn’t a sexual person by any means.

Don’t get me wrong, he fooled around once or twice in life but in hell there was never a looming pressure to get married or have children.

Despite his aloof attitude towards sex and general romance there is a certain time when his more animalistic side controls him.

These periods happen to be ruts.

Every sinner has to deal with unsavoury things because of their hellish form, Alastor’s is just a unbridled need to have sex.

Of course Alastor tries to survive the ruts in confinement (usually in his radio tower or bedroom), making it clear to everyone that they’d best stay away if they value their lives.

Though there comes a point where dealing with the issue himself doesn’t do the trick.

So he decides to leave his tower in search of a mate.

And you happen to be the perfect find.

On sweeter terms you would’ve been honoured and perhaps even flustered but Alastor’s inky tentacles ripping you from your own room and dragging you into his own was rather alarming to say the least.

His room was hot and dense, Alastor himself loomed like a predator, his horns large and winding whilst his teeth glistened with drool.

It was a sight to behold and you were unsure if you should’ve been horny or terrified.

He’s quick to get in your personal space, scenting you immediately.

He asks to strike up a deal;

“How about a deal?” Alastor croons, sliding his hands down your back as he mumbles in your ear.

You clear your throat and try to mentally solve his mixed signals. “What for?”

“I’ll do you a favour, anything you want at any given moment. In return, you offer me your… company.”

You take it of course, to have a favour from Alastor was a great deal and you’d be helping him through his rut. Everyone wins.

Despite Alastor’s strong belief in acting as a gentleman most of his manners are thrown away once you shake hands.

He’s immediately buried himself into your body, inhaling your smell and pressing himself into you.

First, he takes you against the wall, being far too eager to move to his bed.

His talons graze your skin, pulling you into him with a desperate tightness.

One would’ve imagined sex with Alastor as sweeter and gentle, but whilst in a rut he’s got unbelievable stamina that he uses to split you.

Biting biting biting. Alastor can’t help but taste you. It’s a cannibalistic tendency, but he never takes a chunk out of you. Do expect him to draw blood though.

When in a rut he prefers to take you from behind. Mostly he likes to trap you between him and something else like a wall.

During the end of his rut when things have cooled, he’ll take it smoother and actually make love to you.

Though, when he’s in the heat of it it’s nothing but quickies and rough sex.

Alastor goes for multiple rounds, usually three before you tap out or someone interrupts. Generally he could go longer.

Alastor will not cum anywhere but inside you. He’s mentioned in passing that the feeling of cumming inside helps settle him more.

No one in the hotel knows of your affair, well, apart from Angel who could practically smell the daily quickies on you, see it in your flushed face and frizzed hair. Husk was a close second who’s seen Alastor in a isolated rut before. Angel then spread it to everyone else.

Nifty knew too, being the little creep she is, she mentioned to you her habit of listening in.

Despite most having heard you yelp his name at night, Alastor just pretends nothing ever happened and nobody dares mention it to him.

Although you do cop a lot of teasing from Angel.

Once things settle down and Alastor gets the frustrations out of his system, everything goes back to normal. Your bite marks heal and everyone settles.

That is, until his next rut.

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ day six!! love soft snuggly miggy the best wc: 1.3k ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ masterlist

“There’s my girl…” He smiles, watching your eyes flutter open and adjust to the morning light in the bedroom. Sheets spread lazily across your bodies. A slight chill on your skin in your tank top and sweatpants. Since the weather is getting colder all the time. But Miguel always runs hot of course. He sleeps in boxers and only boxers all through the year. His bare chest lit up by the shards of sunlight breaking through the curtains. “Morning, pretty…”

“Mm… morning…” You hum, rubbing your hands over your face and stretching against the pillows. Huffing and trying to wake up for real. You got home late last night from work. Wolfed down your dinner and just collapsed in bed. It is hard when work and life get busy and you don’t have much energy to spend a lot of time with Miguel or do date nights or anything like that. It’s been almost a week since the last time you had sex. That’s shocking actually considering how often you guys get intimate. But he’s busy with work and you are too. It’s not easy to balance everything. 

“I gotta get to the bank… and I think… my boss wants me to um… do the…um…” You think out loud and sit up with a sigh. Pushing your hair back and going through the checklist in your mind of all the things you need to do today. 

“But it’s Saturday…” He says. Looking up at you from his head on the pillow.

“Oh yeah…” You nod with a shrug. You actually didn’t even realize it was the weekend. Because all the days blend together when things are this busy. “I just need to get some things done this morning…” You explain. Getting up out of bed. He sits up once you leave the bed. Sighing internally. He’s frustrated. Not with you. But with all the things that take you away from him everyday. And him from you. He can see the toll this string of long days is taking on you. “Maybe we can get dinner tonight…” He suggests, running his fingers through his hair, calling to you in the en suite bathroom as you’re brushing your teeth. “Yeah I’ll have to see…” 

You’ll have to see? He misses the days you’d drop everything at the chance to have a date night. Knowing you just can’t do that right now. Sometimes he worries you’ve lost interest in things like that. But then he sees you working so hard and he knows that’s not the case. Life can’t all be rainbows and butterflies and sex. As much as he wishes that’s what his life with you could be. 

You emerge from the bathroom, walking over to your dresser to find some clothes for the day. And he watches you silently, staring at your back. He loves you so much. And it feels like a piece of himself is missing when he’s this far from you. 

“Hey baby…” His voice hums behind you. And you peer over your shoulder to look at him still mostly in bed. “Yes?” 

“Can you c’mere?” He asks, resting his head on his hand. That look on his face is pretty adorable. You sigh and smile, putting down the piles of clothes. Walking to the edge of the bed. 

“No like… up here…” He laughs softly, reaching out for your hand and holding it. Coaxing you to come back to the bed with him. “For what? What are you doing?” You smile as you climb back up to him, unable to stop the giggles in your chest. “I’m snuggling with you.” He says stubbornly, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in an iron grip. Flopping back onto the bed to lie down with you wrenched in his arms. “Hey, that's too rough!” You laugh and he does as well. Settling down after the mattress finally stops bouncing. Nose to nose and in his arms. 

“You’re very pretty…” He hums with a crooked smile on his lips. The soft signs of sleep still gracing his handsome face. Making him even more beautiful if that’s even possible. Nudging his nose against yours. Needy to be close. To just be close to you like this eases all his concerns and worries. Worries that you’re unhappy. That you’re not okay. When you’re in his arms he’s sure this is where you’re meant to be. “Miss you…” 

Your eyes widen a bit. Have you been totally oblivious to his feelings the past few weeks? It hasn’t been that long has it? Maybe it has… “I’m sorry, Mig… it’s just… there’s so much going on…” You whisper. Instantly feeling guilty. “No no, baby, it’s fine… it’s not your fault.” He hums, his fingers gently caressing your lower back under your shirt. “Just miss seeing you… miss kissing you and holding you…” 

His words make your heart just melt. Raising your hand to his soft warm cheek and the soft curls by his ear, pushing them back with gentle fingers. Gazing into his eyes.

…

“Oh- I love you…” He moans in your ear, his arms wrapped all around you, tangled in each other and the sheets. With his large form spooning you from behind, one of your knees drawn up by his strong hand, his thick dick pumping into you, seeking out the warmth and wet like a lifeline. “I… love you, Mig…” You whisper. Hardly able to catch a breath. One of his strong arms locked around your waist and the other arm keeping your thighs from closing. It’s been too long. You both need this. He won’t be far from you any longer. 

“Needed you so bad baby… so so bad” He practically whines. Rutting into you like he’s in heat. Pumping and pushing, stretching your puffy walls around his length. Being swallowed up over and over again. Feeding you his inches and biting into your neck, moaning and sighing against your skin. “Please say that… that you missed it… that you wanted me…” He whispers. His mind mush. He’s needy for your approval and reassurance. That you love him, that you want him. That you needed him as much as he needed you. “I-” 

“Please baby!” He groans before you can even finish your sentence, speeding up his thrusts. Pounding into you and practically driving you up the pillows, your hand flying forward and clenching into the pillow under your head. His heaving hot chest pressed against your back. His hand moving from your thigh around to your clit. Rubbing like a madman and trying to give you the best he can. “Please please oh-” He sighs, his mind not even aware of his words at this point. They just flow out. 

“Been waiting all week to put my cock in you, baby…” 

His voice is hoarse, his pumps superhuman. The slaps of skin on skin and his desperate murmurs filling the room. “M…” You try. But he’s hitting all the right spots, all the places that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “Please say it… that you want it… you want me…” 

“I want you…” You’re finally able to get the words out. The gentle whisper but it sends him over the edge. Pushing you down with his chest on your back and grabbing your arms, pulling them gently back. Your fingers grazing his thick thigh as he pounds into your pussy from the back, gripping into his muscles with your fingernails. “Ah!” The high pitched squeal leaves your throat, gasping and moaning into the pillowcase. 

His knees pressing into the mattress and fucking you into the bed. Kissing over your shoulder and down your spine. “I want you baby… I love you…” He says out of breath. A sort of innocence to his voice even in this position. Like he really just wants you to know. As if you don’t already know. 

A few harsh thrusts into your heat have you milking him, squeezing and shuddering around him with a whine and cry of his name. His cock glistening with your orgasm, fucking his hot load into you as he comes with a groan. Holding both your wrists behind your back, his eyes locked on where his dick disappears inside you. His milky essence seeping through the seams. 

Taglist!!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Seventeen

TW for biological functions I guess? In a fantasy setting? And brief mention of blood.

“Stee,” something nudges Steve, rocking him a little, and then there’s another, whispered but urgent, “Stee.”

Steve blinks the rest of the way awake, squinting in the morning light, “you okay?”

“No. Ow.”

Steve’s all the way alert immediately, “where? What’s wrong?”

Eddie takes Steve’s hand, pressing it real low on his tummy, “ow.”

“Oh,” Steve says, leaning over and pressing a little bit.

Eddie immediately seems to panic, dragging Steve’s hand away and shoving one of his own right up between his legs, pressing hard. He looks uncomfortable as fuck.

“Oh! Baby, do you need to pee?”

“Called pee?”

“I-it’s when- you know what never mind, just come with me.” Eddie comes with Steve into the bathroom, and Steve shuffles him over to the toilet, “you need to pull your pants down.”

Eddie looks at him uncertainly.

“Here, these,” Steve gives Eddie’s sleep pants a tug, and Eddie soon joins in on pulling them down. “Uhm,” Steve says intelligently, faced again with that slit between Eddie’s legs, “I didn’t...I guess you should sit?”

Steve guides Eddie down, and he perches on the toilet.

“Now just, relax I guess? Let it happen?”

“Stee,” Eddie says, plaintive and confused and clearly fucking uncomfortable.

Steve squats in front of his knees, which is so new it takes Steve by surprise all over again, and he rests a hand on Eddie’s brand new bare knee, just because he can. Just to feel it under his palm, smooth and...maybe there's a little stubble growing on Eddie's thigh. He uses his free hand to gently press at Eddie’s lower stomach.

Eddie yelps, grabbing Steve’s hand away, “ow ow ow ow ow,” Eddie’s bloodshot eyes water, and then there’s a splash and very loud and insistent stream of urine that goes on for quite some time. Eddie’s breath is shuddering throughout, his eyes squeeze closed and he grips Steve’s hand and shoulder desperately.

It’s finally done, and Eddie's left panting, “many ow. Many.”

“Uhm...it doesn’t usually, maybe because it was the first one? No ow next time?”

“Next time?” Eddie repeats, sounding distraught.

“Yeah, sorry baby. Pee a few times a day.”

“Called few?”

“Few...not many.”

Eddie sighs through his nose, kind of relieved by the news, “not many.”

“Just wait until you gotta’ poop.”

“Called poop?”

“I-it’s- you know what, lets just cross that bridge when we get there.”

When Eddie stands, pulling his pants back up, still a little uncertain on his feet, the toilet bowl looks like it’s full of blood. Steve drops the lid and flushes it away, trying desperately not to worry that Eddie’s kidneys are like, failing, or something. “Yeah, hopefully the next one will be okay, like with what you coughed up...you should probably drink plenty of water today.” It’s not like they can get Eddie to a doctor.

“Water,” Eddie repeats, “brush teeth?”

“Yeah baby, we can brush our teeth.”

Eddie does, standing next to Steve. Steve watches them both in the mirror, but Eddie appears to, mostly, be frowning at himself. Once he rinses, he touches where his eyebrows were, then runs a hand over the top of his head. “Different. No hair. No Eddidie.”

“Oh baby,” Steve reaches out, touching gently, “hey, there’s a little bit of stubble, here, feel,” Steve guides Eddie’s hand. The first sign of hair is so minute as to be not visible yet, but Steve can definitely feel it, “your hair will come back.”

“Tomorrow?” Eddie asks, more hopeful.

“No baby...it’ll take some time,” Eddie pouts, “but it will.”

By the time they get back to the bedroom, Eddie is pulling a face, “wet,” he tells Steve, pulling at the crotch of the sleep pants.

“Oh...right. I guess we’d better wipe next time, hang on, I’ll get you a clean pair.”

“Clean pair,” Eddie parrots back, sitting on the bed, all long flailing limbs. He struggles a little, getting tangled, but he doesn’t ask for help, so Steve just waits and watches; he’s going to have to get the hang of this at some point. “Breakfast food?”

“Sure thing.”

Eddie stands, and his pants immediately fall down. Eddie looks down at them, pooled around his ankles on the floor, “pull pants down.” Steve can’t help but laugh.

Eddie’s pouting, but Steve can tell it’s good humored, a little smile hidden underneath. Eddie hasn’t changed at all; still just happy to be involved. Happy that he’s made Steve laugh.

“Okay, lesson one I guess,” Steve goes and stands next to Eddie, “come on, you can get them.”

He’s awkward in his movements, and Steve stands close to make sure he doesn’t like, fall over and face plant or anything, but Eddie manages to bend and grab them, and then pull them back up, clutching at the material.

Steve pulls the drawstring cords tight for him, tying it securely, “all my stuff it going to be way too big for you.”

“Too big.”

Eddie sits on the stairs, and Steve waits half way down. He sits for a second, looking at Steve, thoughtful. And then he stands back up, both hands awkwardly gripping the rail, “oh boy,” Steve sighs, “okay, but carefully.”

“Carefully,” Eddie hovers a bare foot out, wobbling. It takes him a second to coordinate bending his knee, and his foot lands on the next step with a thump. Steve never really thought about how much easier up is than down, but it definitely is.

Eddie gets a rhythm going, still white knuckling the rail, but they get there, and he’s much more confident by the time he gets to the bottom.

Steve looks at the sad contents of his fridge and sighs. He’s not giving Eddie a cold bowl of cereal, he’s not doing it.

“Wait there,” he heads into the garage, rummaging through the freezer. He comes up with a couple of frozen pizzas, and prays he’s not setting a bad precedent with pizza for breakfast...but then it occurs to him what day it is, and he thinks fuck it, it is Christmas.

Steve gets both pizzas in, dealing with the pot of peas they had abandoned on the stove top last night.

Steve makes himself a coffee and Eddie another glass of water; Eddie looks at it mistrustfully, and Steve figures Eddie has already made the link between drinking and peeing, “you need to,” Steve tells him, pushing the glass closer.

Eddie sighs like a man going in front of the firing squad, but he does sip it.

“Pizza good good good,” Eddie says, licking his fingers clean of cheese grease.

“Yeah, I like it too. You done?”

“Done?”

“Finished?”

Eddie looks sad, “no yes,” and rubs his tummy.

“I get that,” Eddie has half his Pizza left, and Steve three slices of his, “but we can eat the rest later.”

Eddie perks up, “lunch?”

“Yeah, we can eat it at lunch time. You want to see what’s on TV?”

“TV.” Eddie stands up, determined. Steve watches; Eddie uses any furniture in reach, and then the wall, to make it to the kitchen doorway. He stands for a second, faced with the gulf between the doorway and the couch. Slowly, and a little uncertain, Eddie makes the trip.

He sits, and Steve watches it dawn on him that he needs to get back up again to turn on the TV. The sigh that comes out of Eddie is spectacular, but he gets up, and he does it.

Steve feels like he just watched Eddie sink a winning basket, or something.

Eddie’s fallen asleep again, Steve can feel it in how his breathing has evened, how his body is lax. They’d watched 'A Wonderful Life' this morning. Granted they missed the first little bit, and Steve is sure Eddie didn’t really follow the plot, but Steve just...couldn’t resist it.

Clarence earns his wings, Eddie got his legs.

Eddie had finished his pizza at lunch time, and had more water, but only because Steve bribed him with half a beer for afters. And then came Eddie’s second ever pee; almost clear this time, with maybe the faintest trace of pink. To say Steve was relieved is an understatement.

Steve figures he’s right, just like with the crap that came out of Eddie’s lungs, there must be some sort of trauma when it comes to using body parts that are brand spanking new.

Steve’s not really watching the TV any more; there’s another Christmas movie on, something about Prancer the reindeer. It makes nice background noise as Steve decides Eddie has the right idea and allows himself to doze.

He’s very nearly asleep when the phone rings, startling both Steve and Eddie awake.

Steve’s halfway up, Eddie flopping off him onto the couch when it hits Steve; he hasn’t told anyone. Shit.

He answers the phone, already half certain the it’s Robin, “Hello?”

“Hey,” it is Robin, “look, Steve, I know you said no and everything but I’m really worried about you, and it's Christmas so I really don’t think-”

Steve cuts her off, “Eddie’s fine. He’s here he-”

“What??!”

“Yeah, he, he came out of the pool last night. He’s like, completely fine.” Steve smiles as Eddie appears in the doorway, one hand resting on the wall.

“So he’s just- alright? Like, what happened then, why..?”

“Oh. Oh shit, no he has legs Rob!”

She squeaks down the phone, “legs!”

Eddie moves closer, careful steps that are already about a million times more confident than yesterdays, “called?”

“It’s Robin, you want to say hi?”

“Birdidie.”

Steve hands the phone over, watching as Eddie holds it to his ear, “hi Birdidie.”

Steve can hear the noise Robin makes, it’s so loud, Eddie completely startles, dropping and then fumbling the phone and nearly stumbling himself. Steve manages to grab Eddie by the tops on his arms to steady him, and then takes the phone back, he can vaguely hear Robin saying, “hello? Are you still there?”

“Sorry, Robs, you just scared him a little.”

“Okay, yeah, okay yeah that’s fair. Sorry. Can I come over? I should come over-” and Steve cannot blame her at all, but he does kind of wish their little bubble had lasted a tiny bit longer.

“Okay Robs, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yup yup Mom will drop me, I’ll bring left overs!”

Eddie sits with his legs pulled up, trying to tuck them under himself like he would his tail; it isn’t really working.

“Birdidie in?” He asks looking distinctly uncomfortable, plucking at the frayed edge at the bottom of his sweater.

“Yeah, Robin's coming to visit.” Eddie looks distinctly unhappy at the prospect. “What’s wrong? You don’t want Birdy?”

“Eddidie-” he starts and the stalls out, “Birdidie good bad.”

“Okay, can you tell me why?”

“No Eddidie,” he says, a hand going to the top of his head.

“Oh...you’re worried about you hair?” Eddie nods, “baby, no ones going to care.” Eddie just looks, if possible, even more downhearted, “but you care, don’t you?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay. Okay I can sort this, wait there.” Steve heads upstairs, raiding his mother’s wardrobe. It’s arranged by season and then occasion, so all of her ‘skiing’ – drinking too much in a lodge – outfits are all clumped together. Steve finds three hats, they’re all bobble hats and all distinctly feminine, but Steve takes them to show Eddie. On his way out, his eyes catch on the jewelry box.

All the rings in here are probably too small to fit Eddie properly, but Steve takes a plain silver band that might fit Eddie’s pinkie finger. He takes his haul back down stairs, kneeling in front of Eddie where he’s sitting on the couch.

Steve lays out the three hats across Eddie’s thighs, “okay, here we go, what do you think.”

“Called?”

“It’s a hat,” and then Steve commits a personal cardinal sin, he pulls one on to demonstrate.

Eddie seems to brighten as he understands, touching each one individually. He chooses the one Steve hoped he would, it’s the subtlest of all of them, black and white herringbone with a black edge and a grey faux fur pompom, which Eddie quite likes the softness of if his stroking is anything to go by. He pulls it on, smiling, “hat good.”

Steve reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little silver trinket he found, “and this.”

Eddie brightens again, touching the ring where it lays on Steve’s palm. He clearly wants to say something, his mouth opening and closing, but he doesn’t have the words. Eventually he points to the lights on the tree, opening and closing his hand to imitate the slow blinking of the lights.

“Those are lights...they're shiny,” Steve tilts his palm, the ring catching the light, “this is shiny.”

“Shiny...good.”

“Pretty”

“Called pretty?”

“Uhm...so if something looks...good. So if you like shiny lights,” Steve points, “or…” Steve struggles through Eddie’s known vocabulary, “trees, trees can be pretty.” He touches Eddie’s sweater, “blue, pretty blue.”

“Purple more good than blue,” Eddie informs him with some certainty, making Steve laugh.

“Okay, purple pretty,” Eddie nods, “so, you want this on,” Eddie gives his left hand over easily. His fingers are actually much slimmer than Steve had really anticipated, and the ring spins loosely on Eddie’s pinkie finger. Steve moves it to the one next door, where it fits well, snug against the last vestiges of Eddie’s webbing, “okay?”

Eddie leans forward to kiss Steve, “thank you Stee.”

Part Nineteen

[sp0o0kylights]

Eyes wide, body frigid in terror, Eddie felt the sheer horror of the current situation sank in. 

He was at Gen Con. 

In their hotel.

With zero vacant rooms and one minor, Henderson created, screw up.

The room only had one bed in it. 

“It’s fine, we can share.” Steve said, brushing past.

Like this was not the life ending, earth shattering, soul rendering issue that it was.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Eddie croaked trying to remember how a normal person acted instead of someone whose stomach had just fallen out of their ass. 

“Nah, I did this all the time with the basketball team.” Steve said as Eddie actively regretted every single decision that had led to this point in his life.

“Hell this is even a king sized bed. We have plenty of space!” 

Steve did a goofy little spin jump, landing butt first on the bed and bouncing on it with glee. 

“Space, sure.” Eddie echoed. 

Hands shaking, eyes determinedly focused on anything but the ex-jock, Eddie found himself chanting a mantra over and over in his head.

One that would valiantly get him through the next weekend, God and D20's willing.

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

“I don’t have cooties, if that's what you're worried about.”” Steve waggled his eyebrows. "Here,  I’ll even let you have one of my pillows.”  

Said pillow was flung through the air, to smack Eddie dead in the face. 

'Fuck it." Eddie thought wildly. "I am NOT fine!'

And after Eddie got his hands on him, Dustin Henderson wouldn't be either.

xXx

“I am going to kill you.” Eddie snarled, the very second he could get Dustin alone.

“No you won’t, you love me too much.” Henderson dismissed, a smug little smirk in place. 

The absolute brat. 

“I do not, and if I did, I would take it back after this.” Eddie glanced around once again, beyond paranoid about discussing this in the open parking lot of a shitty hotel, but knowing he needed to get this under control, now. 

“What were you thinking!?” 

“That I read a really interesting zine about this exact scenario, mostly.” Dustin shrugged. “Worked out great for them, I thought I’d try it for you!” 

Eddie groaned, head flying back as he fisted both hands in his hair.

(if only to prevent himself from wrapping both hands around Dustin’s stupid throat.) 

“What did I tell you? This isn’t something you fuck with man!” 

“I know, but as I told you, Steve is perfect!” Dustin protested, and didn’t even have the decency to flinch when Eddie lost control and grabbed him by the collar. 

“Perfect!?” He sputtered, actually sputtered, shaking the fist that held Dustin's shirt captive. “Perfect!?” 

“Trust me on this--you have a crush on him, he desperately needs someone in his life--seriously, Eddie, it’s sad how he acts when he’s not dating--and you guys get along great now! What’s the problem!?”

“He’s straight!” Eddie shrieked, startling several onlookers. 

“Laced!” He added immediately after, in panicked afterthought. “He’s so straight laced we could never get him to agree to that plan!” 

Dustin leveled an unimpressed look at him. 

“Dude, really?”

“We are still in Indiana, Henderson.” Eddie said, then got close enough that he felt comfortable hissing the next part through clenched teeth.

“They don’t exactly care for the queers here, even at a place like this.” 

“Are you sure? Because the Con’s welcome packet has a few different panels that--”

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, letting go of his idiot, freshman friend's shirt to grab at his hair again. 

“Henderson, for once,” He pleaded, and maybe it was the sheer desperation in his tone or how upset he looked but either way Dustin seemed to finally realize how serious he was.

“just once, I need you to listen to me. You cannot let Steve know I’m gay. This is something that has to stay between us, especially now I’m sharing a bed with him.” 

Which Dustin knew, because Dustin was the one who’d called and changed the room. 

“But Steve’s--”

“Most likely bisexual, I heard you the first several times you said it, but you can’t just--assume that about someone!” Eddie was well and good on a rant now, two seconds away from pacing about. “Even if you’ve been to a salon with them!” 

He pointed firmly at Dustin’s stupid face (and the kid's equally stupid mouth) before he could once again insist Steve was into men purely based on how anal he was about his hair.

“Steve might be cool with--other people,” Eddie was unsure of who knew what about Robin, and was not about to hand Dustin another secret given how he was acting about this one, “but that does not mean he will be cool with me--or you, pimping him out, to me!” 

“I’m not pimping him out!” Offended, Dustin patted at his shirt where Eddie had previously been holding it. “Look I’m sorry, but--”

Eddie groaned, loud and dramatic. 

“But,” Dustin doubled down, “You trusted me with the whole, you know.” He waved his hands in some sort of vague, unreadable gesture. “Can’t you trust me about this?”

“I didn’t trust you with that, you barged into my room and then dug around my closet insisting your character notes got mixed in with mine when I was hi-sleeping!--and then read something personal!” 

The snort he got in return let him know Dustin was well aware he’d been high as hell, but that was neither here nor there, given what had happened after. 

When Dustin, rifling through Eddie’s closet, came across one of Eddie’s private notebooks. 

The ones that contained equally private stories, penned by Eddie's hand.

One of which might have had characters--who did not sound like Steve, thank you,-- and definitely not paired with a character based on Eddie himself. 

(“So Sir Sylvan Harrachtáin and Edwin Morningson are random names you pulled out of your ass, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Sir Sylvan with his great hair and--what’s this? A horse named…Beamer?”

“Henderson so help me--” ) 

It may have led to the two of them growing closer instead of Eddie getting chased out of town with pitchforks, but that hadn’t stopped the sheer panic it had caused when he realized just what it was Dustin was reading. 

“Potato, tomato.” The little shit dismissed, and Eddie felt the urge to strangle him return in full force. “Look I get it--I promised I wouldn’t tell and I keep my promises. But since there aren’t any other rooms in our inn…”

Eddie looked at the sky, because if he saw the little dipshit wiggle his eyebrows in relation to himself and Steve Harrington, his new friend, who baked cookies with Jeff and once helped Grant jump his car, Eddie was going to lose his mind.

Loudly, and with much fanfare. 

“You owe me. Big time.” He declared to the clouds. 

He pretended not to hear the sigh that got him, either. 

“If you so say. Now can we go to the convention?" A whine crept into Henderson's voice. "Steve’s going to think we’re fighting.”

"Fine.” Eddie finally lowered his head to glare Dustin dead in the eyes.

“But to make my ire clear, Henderson? That magic sword your dwarf just acquired is gone. Disappeared. Vanished like a puff of smoke."

He made a ‘proof’ noise, hands spreading out as he did it. 

Dustin’s jaw dropped.

“What!? Eddie--” 

“Nope.

“Edd-iieeeee--”

“I’m not listening.” He plunged both fingers in his ears, walking determinedly towards one of the other three hotel rooms Hellfire had crammed themselves in. 

Wished desperately that he could manage to swap beds with Jeff, or Grant, or someone without making Steve feel like shit--which it would, because Eddie knew things like that about Steve now.

Behind him Dustin rampaged, which at least, made Eddie a little happier.

xXx

“We can switch rooms.” 

“What?” Eddie asked, startled out of his present thoughts (and the giant pile of D&D related papers spread in a circle around him.)

He turned to look up at Steve, who was hovering awkwardly behind him.

“You’ve been weird ever since you realized we’re sharing a bed. If it’s making you that uncomfortable we can just switch.” He shrugged, like saying that didn’t hurt him, even as the kicked puppy look holding court on his face very much screamed ‘emotional damage.’

"I have not!” Eddie twisted himself around immediately. "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"

Steve frowned down at him. 

“Eddie, this is the longest conversation I’ve had with you since we got here." Steve deadpanned. "I’d blame that on the whole, you know, nerd herd gathering, but it’s pretty clear that’s not it. I watched you literally turn around and walk the other way when you spotted me earlier." 

Shit.

"It's kinda obvious you're avoiding me." 

Shit, shit, shit!

“I'm not, promise!" Eddie lied. "I’m just--distracted. There’s just so much happening and it’s--a lot.”

He said it like the con was overwhelming, and not chaos he was positively thriving in. 

Steve searched his face.

“Alright," He said doubtfully, "but I mean it. Say the word and we can switch. I'm sure Jeff'll let me share a blanket or something."

Which was the last thing anybody needed, on grounds that Jeff would try and fix things.

(Jeff, bless him, had never been good at fixing things.)

Drumming up every acting skill he possessed, Eddie flashed two thumbs up in response, painting a fat grin on his face.

“We're all good Stevie. Besides, I’m going to be up late at so many panels, you won’t even notice me coming back. You're practically gonna have the room to yourself!"

Because that was exactly what he was planning on doing, the second he realized the convention itself could provide a nice, neat little way out in the form of two different late night panels.

Who needed sleep anyway? Not him!

"Okay." Steve said, somewhat mollified.

Crisis averted, Eddie dove back into his plans, distracting himself as best he could while trying to ignore that Steve had dropped onto the bed.

(One of those plans might have involved revenge on Henderson, and that one he gave special attention to.)

xXx

There were no late nigh panels.

“Not until tomorrow, my friend!” The jovial guy dressed in what Eddie was pretty sure was supposed to be a wizard costume told him. “We had a few but the folks running them got stuck in traffic, so we had to cancel."

He beamed, like he hadn’t just disintegrated Eddie's one and only escape plan.

"Besides, if you go to sleep now you can catch some of the early morning panels!”

As if he hadn't planned on rolling into them anyway, lack of sleep be damned.

“Can we go back now?” Gareth grumped to his right, the only person who’d agreed to stay out all night with him (and who was not a 14 year old who’d been overruled by Harrington.) 

"We could go find a room party?" Eddie hedged instead, as they made their retreat.

"Dude."

"Fine," He muttered, defeated. "We can go back."

To Steve. 

And the single bed. 

In his head, he plotted out Henderson's death.

Maybe he'd use fire.

Or sticks, or even a fricken--toy horse, or something...

xXx

He'd done it.

Changed into the oversized shirt he called sleep clothes, and crawled into bed like a completely normal, totally straight human being.

Had even done a remarkable job of laying perfectly still. Exactly how a normal, not panicking person slept!

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

Steve was laying next to him.

He had to of course, that's how a bed worked, and yet somehow, Eddie couldn't get past it.

Or the fact that the dick wasn't wearing a shirt to bed.

His thoughts chased each other in nervous little circles, anxiety gnawing on his gut like a favored bone as Eddie did his best not to move one single inch.

Pity that the thing about attending a large convention, was the sheer amount of walking, talking, and expending general energy one had to do.

Entirely against his will, Eddie fell asleep. 

He had been planning on laying awake in frigid terror all night, to prevent any possible way Steve might clock him, but his body had other plans.

Some of which involved sleeping like Eddie normally slept--arms hugging a pillow, head buried in it's soft, comfortable, kinda ticklish surface.

He rubbed his nose further into it as the tickling sensation increased, pulling him away from the sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into.

Grumbling, Eddie went to adjust his stupid pillow when he had the weirdest realization that it too, was moving.

Pillows, his sleep addled brain informed him, did not move.

Steve would, though.

"Fuck!" He screeched, flying up into a sitting position as he registered that he'd gone full octopus--cuddling Steve with all four limbs.

Steve flew awake, his own body flying up into a sitting position.

His mouth started moving a mile a minute, and it took Eddie a second to parse that Steve was still partially asleep as he let out a string of absolute nonsense about code reds and being upside down.

"Whoa!" Eddie said when the guy nearly fell out of bed. "Shit Steve, it's just me!"

"Eddie?" Steve asked, halfway out of bed. "Are we--is everything okay?"

"Yeah I--yeah." He grimaced, grabbing a strand of his hair and pulling it protectively over his face. "I think I woke you up."

"S'okay." Steve ran a hand through his hair, before slowly sinking back into the bed, alarm fading. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"

Eddie blew out a breath.

"Probably. It's fine, don't worry about it."

Steve eyed him doubtfully.

"If you're sure..."

Eddie gave him a wobbly smile back, patting the space on the bed next to him as he made himself lay back down. "Promise. I'm--I'm sorry, I guess maybe I should have slept elsewhere..."

That did it.

"You're good. Startled me is all." Steve let out a sort of forced chuckle before laying back down. "I overreacted."

Eddie hummed, not trusting himself to say anything as the two of them settled back down.

It did not escape him that unlike most people who'd been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, Steve didn't try to keep any distance between them.

No, he had to scoot closer, like he needed to know his friend was near. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes closed and prayed for death.

"I get nightmares too, sometimes." Steve admitted in the following quiet and oh, God, no, Eddie could not do an emotional late night talk right now.

"They definitely suck." He said flatly, before rolling over to face the opposing wall. "Night Stevie."

Steve snorted, but it sounded amused instead of hurt.

Eddie sighed quietly in relief as he too, turned away to face the wall.

He could do this. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up and fall asleep again, and everything would be...

Perfectly...

...fine.

xXx

"--ddie, you're on my arm man."

"Wha?"

"My arm." That was Steve, Eddie's brain dutifully identified as it crawled it's way to consciousness. Steve who was his friend now, and was also talking very close to his ear. 

"Also my leg. And torso."

"You have a nice torso." Eddie mumbled thoughtlessly. 

Why was Steve here? They were doing something that should have been stressing him out, was stressing him out, but it was hard to think when he was this tired.

"Thanks," Amusement threaded it's way through Steve's voice, "but I'm going numb here. You have a hell of a grip."

Eddie frowned, the words sludging through the fog, until finally, the dots connected.

Eyes opening wide, he carefully took stock of the position he once again found himself in--wrapped around Steve like the guy was the only life raft left.

Oh my God.

"Shit sorry--" Steve oof'ed as Eddie smacked an elbow into his ribs as he let the poor man go, madly scrambling to get as far away as possible.

He tried to apologize for that, but was too busy fighting the bedsheets to get anything out. 

"Eds." Steve laughed, grabbing him as Eddie tangled them both up. "Calm down."

"I'm calm!" He protested, far too loudly, limbs flying every which way as he tried in vein to get the fuck away.

Stupid sheets-!

"Eddie." Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, Steve having managed to get himself into a sitting position. "It's alright."

"It's not Steve." Eddie spat, and then panicked harder because fuck, that is not what he should have said.

"Hey, easy." Steve was talking quieter now, hands squeezing gently, like Eddie was some kind of spooked wild animal and fuck, he was really losing it here.

"I mean it. We're at the convention, remember? We're sharing a hotel room and you have a bunch of dorks and dumbass things to do in like, two hours."

Eddie violently shrugged him off.

"I know that!"

Steve, somehow, did not take offense to the very aggressive tone that had been snarled in. 

"Then you know you can breath for a moment. Seriously, you look like you're gonna pass out."

Which was probably true, given the rapid, rabbiting beat of his heart.

"Is this what you were worried about?" Steve added, as Eddie finally freed himself from the damn sheets. "That you have nightmares?"

“It's not nightmares.” Eddie spat instantly, chest heaving.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he was exhausted to the point where he wanted to cry about it.

God did being gay suck.

“Then--what? That you cuddle in your sleep?” Steve was teasing, Eddie knew Steve was teasing but that was too on the nose. “Dude trust me, Tommy was an octopus growing up. I don’t care.”

“No it’s not, that, exactly--”

"So what is it then, exactly?"

Too. Fucking. Close.

"Drop it Steve--"

Emotions rose like a tidal wave, all encompassing. Overwhelming. 

"I would if you weren't clearly upset about something--" 

He lost control. 

“I’m gay!” Eddie yelled.

Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, like he hadn’t just panicked himself out of the closet. 

It died. 

The crazy, huge emotions. The way he'd been fighting himself, tooth and nail, the panicked thoughts that were zooming around his brain.

“I didn’t say that.” He said, eyes wide.

Steve blinked.

“I mean, you kinda did.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Nope. No. I said, I said--”

“That you’re gay.” Steve finished, then frowned when Eddie flinched. “Dude it’s okay--”

“Is it, Steve!?” He interrupted, hand finally falling from his mouth. “Is it? Because if you ask half the people at this convention--who are my kind of people and understand I’m not shilling souls to satan--if it's okay!? They'd say no!"

Tears pressed against his eyes, a reaction he hated that he had.

"They'd say no, and then they'd try to kick my ass for sleeping in the same bed as them!" 

A tear escaped and he swiped angrily at it. 

“I’m okay with it.” Steve said quietly, which had the effect of making Eddie shut up. “And those people suck.” 

The laugh that escaped Eddie's mouth was brittle.

Bitter.

He turned his head away from Steve, angry that he’d gone and admitted the very thing he knew better than ever speaking aloud. 

“Yeah well, I didn't think you would be, given how you used to accuse anyone and everyone of being a queer loser right along with the rest of the basketball team.”

Which wasn't fair, exactly--Eddie knew Steve had changed. Had seen it in the way he and Robin talked quietly about Will, when they thought no one could overhear.

(A habit Eddie would break them of, if he and Steve made it out of here as friends, still.) 

He wasn't Will though, and Will wasn't the one presently sharing a bed with Steve.

“That’s because we were all making out with each other at away games.” It was said so fucking quick Eddie briefly thought he hallucinated it.

Lucky for him, Steve wasn't done. 

“Robin thinks that whole thing was some kind of group denial. Like if we made enough of a thing out of it we could all pretend we didn’t have our hands down each others pants all the time. I am not exactly on speaking terms with that group anymore.”

He shrugged like that his fall from grace hadn’t been the center of the rumor mill for most of his senior year, and came with a lot of shit talking at his expense.

“But I can still prove it to you, if you’d like.” 

Shock--and six million thoughts-- hit Eddie like a mack truck. 

‘You’re lying/No way/that makes so much fucking sense/how did that even start/was it every game/whose pants exactly did you have your hands down and how do you feel about my pants--’ 

“How?” Eddie got out, sounding only slightly strangled. 

“Well--you’re here. I’m here."

And then Steve gave him a smile Eddie had only ever seen aimed at women, a slow lazy curl of the mouth that implied a hell of a lot.

"I'm fine with making the math work."

Maybe he was dreaming this.

(Eddie pinched himself and found that somehow, he was not.)

“I realize I don’t look like it, but I don't the whole casual kissing thing." Eddie blurted out. "Hasn't exactly gone well for me."

He regretted it the second it left his mouth. 

That was sharing too much of himself. The vulnerable gooey part who'd kissed a few girls (and even, once, a guy) and found he couldn't for the life of him make such things casual.

Plus Steve was kind of a good friend now, and Eddie had a crush so big that doing this and then never doing it again would kill him, and--

(and, and, and…) 

“It can mean something if you’d like.”

What.

“What?” 

Eddie stared at him.

Steve stared back. 

“Steve Harrington." He said flatly. "Are you trying to get in my pants?”

‘I will rip them off right here and now if you are,’ He thought wildly, like he hadn’t just tried to die on some “it has to be meaningful” hill. 

(Sue him, he was a horny teenager who'd just learned sex might be on the table, he could change his mind.

It totally wouldn’t tear his heart apart after either!

Nope, not his, made of steel Eddie’s heart was--) 

Steve raised his hands in the “don’t shoot” pose, looking all too pleased with himself. 

“Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But,” and here he dropped the flirty little grin, which Eddie was only now realizing he was utilizing, “I meant it. I'm not opposed to trying this out, with you."

Trying? What the hell did that mean!?

Steve hadn't stopped talking.

"I won’t take it anywhere if you don’t want to though, don't worry.

Then he tilted his head and added; “I can also leave if that made you uncomfortable. Robin keeps telling me I can’t flirt with men like I flirt with women and--” 

“No.” Eddie’s mouth betrayed him yet again, terrified Steve might talk himself into leaving. “No--you offered!”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I did.”

“To have--” God Eddie couldn’t even say the words, “with me?” 

Somehow that last part came out as a question, and Eddie planned immediately to throw himself out of a window.

The grin was coming back. “Yes. With you.” 

“And it would…mean something?”

That was pushing it, Eddie knew that was pushing it, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.

This whole thing was now a runaway train and he'd ride it to it's inevitable wreck.

“For me it would.” Steve said, raising himself up on his knees. 

He inched forward, planting his hands down on the bed, face awfully close to Eddie’s own. 

“I don't like doing things anymore without it meaning something. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Besides, Robin's right."

"About?" Eddie asked, goin cross-eyed as Steve leaned ever so much closer.

"That when I say I admire you, or I miss you, or that I want to see you, I'm not exactly meaning it in a friend way."

Oh.

"Oh." Eddie said dumbly.

Steve closed the distance, mouth first. 

They were kissing.

Stars exploded in the sky. Fireworks went off outside, birds sang, people cheered--

(Eddie bit Steve’s lip, twice, in some sort of overexcited maneuver before he was gently guided into Steve’s lap, the ex-jock twisting to lay back down and bringing Eddie with him. 

It was smoothly done, a slow maneuver, and Eddie had to go and ruin that too by ripping his mouth off Steve’s to press sloppy kisses all down his neck. 

Thankfully Steve did not shove him off for that, or the hickie he definitely left on that stupid, tan neck, instead arranging them once again until things, finally, started to be less frantic. 

It was the best night of Eddie's life.)

xXx 

“So what does mean something involve, in this little situation we have here?” Eddie said some odd amount of time later, cuddled happily against a now naked Harrington. 

“I’m not supposed to say boyfriends.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. “Scares people off."

Apparently he was the type to need naps immediately after having the naked kind of fun. 

“Who the fuck told you that?” Eddie reached down, lacing their hands together tightly.

Steve kissed his shoulder. 

“We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.” He said, rather than responding directly.

“We can’t, Steve, or did you forget where we live?”

Another kiss, this one turning into a grin when it made Eddie shudder. 

“Oh we absolutely can. I’ll prove it to you. Next Friday?” 

It took him a moment--a stupidly long moment, for someone who prided himself as a wordsmith--but Eddie got it. 

A smile exploded over his face. 

“Next Friday." He said. "It’s a date.” 

(A very long time later, Henderson would find out about all this and gloat about this so hard he’d fall off the steps of Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie would only let him live on grounds that Steve was also there at the time, and was worried about Dustin’s ankle.

This did not stop Eddie from standing above the little shit, announcing karma would one day get him soon, and if not, than Max Mayfield, who absolutely could be bribed into committing murder.)

This was the bonus for Door Prize/Sugar, Spice (and Everything Dicey) which can be read in it's entirely here: LINK

[rodolfoparras]

not to be crazy but reader being crazy obsessed over dragon!price. maybe reader's a hybrid, or maybe he's just a human; but it doesn't matter, not when all he cares about is john, john, john, john. a reader who's so obsessed price, no matter what he does or say, cannot seem to get rid of you. in the peripherals of his vision he is haunted by you, whether you are actually there or not, you have infested his mind just as much as he's infested yours.

a reader who's so obsessed he'll go up against creatures much stronger and older than he is, against creatures with teeth and claws and magic that hums in their veins - but that magic and claws and teeth are all usually against a man who's sole purpose is to live for another man, for a man who you're so deeply and dearly enamored with. their size and strength and whatever mystical, non-human features are all useless against you, whose veins scream for violence and blood, who scream at you to get rid of anyone that so much as breathes your john's way.

and price isn't sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by the amount of heads that arrive packaged onto his desk, the dismembered limbs he throws out with distaste on his tongue. it boggles his mind whenever he finds out you've gotten rid of yet another hybrid, how someone like you - either a human man or a weaker hybrid of sorts - have managed to become the personification of death itself.

he's more exasperated when he somehow finds out you've been stalking him, finds the collection of polaroids of him stored away somewhere, finds a shrine just for him, than he is frightened. he's never had anyone be so obsessed with him the way you are in all his years of living, and despite himself, with every corpse or limb found, with every sickly love letter finding itself on his desk, with stolen clothes finding itself in your bedroom or laundry, with the little bloodied gifts you leave him, it has his draconic instincts purring at a potential mate.

Cw: 18+, dragon!Price, dragon! male reader obsessiveness, stalking, scent kink, masturbation, voyarism, exhibitionism, briefly Nikolai x Price, brief mention & depiction of dismemberment, yandere!reader, yandere!Price

It all started with a small act of kindness. You were getting scolded by a superior for something you’d done- had almost gotten kicked out of your squad because of that, when suddenly Price had swooped in and uttered a little white lie “he didn’t mean it, I’ll keep him in check don’t worry about it general” and got you out of trouble in a matter of seconds

Truth be told Price forgot all about you after that encounter but you couldn’t forget about him. You spent every waking moment learning about him who he was - a dragon hybrid and a captain- what he’d done- fought in wars and served everything from kings to generals - learned all about who he keeps in his inner circle - it had once been his mate now it’s mostly his squad and oh his mate -she was absolutely beautiful- a dragon hybrid just like him. They’d been together for years until she’d gotten killed.

That’s at least what you had read in one of the many journal he keeps in his room. You had snuck in one day when he left for a mission with the intentions to just look around but you had ended up with your clothes on the floor and fucking one of his pillows just because it smelled like him, - soap and cologne still embedded into the pristine white fabric, and still carrying the imprint from where his head once had been. So of course you folded the pillow right in the middle and slid your cock inside of it, losing yourself in its tight and warm grip, pretending it was the stand offish dragon captain you were fucking before spilling ropes of cum all over the sheets.

Then it came to the over protectiveness. You really wouldn’t call it that. You just wanted to make sure he was alright. So what if you watched him through the cracks of his office door while he held conversations with Nikolai? And what if you stayed as his lips crashed onto the Russians, while your hand slipped down your pants and what if you snuck into Price’s room the morning after and buried your face in his underwear just so you know that Nikolai didn’t take it any further?

But Price knew- could feel your eyes on him as he lined Nikolai’s cockhead up with his entrance. Price knew -could hear your growl and the way your hand stroked your cock as he bounced on Nikolai’s cock. Price knew- and he enjoyed it, tipped over the edge at the sheer thought of it, vision turning blurry and ears ringing as he slumped into the other man’s embrace.

So it wasn’t to any surprise when he discovered the Polaroids you kept of him, stashed under your mattress but poking out enough for him to get a glimpse. He had come to your room to talk about your recent behavior. Things had started to get out of hand. He didn’t really care that you watched his every step. What he did care about were the soldiers that had mysteriously gone missing, soldiers he’d gotten into minor arguments with prior to the incident, but eventually popped back up in his office or rather his desk- body completely dismembered and limbs neatly wrapped, reminding him of a Christmas Day in hell and Price was sure he knew who was behind it

There were plenty of Polaroids, so much so they made up an entire album.

Some were rather innocent in nature, snapshots of him while he was smoking a cigar or talking with Kate or any member of 141 . The photographs were blurry - unfocused almost as if you’d accidentally taken them but he knew that wasn’t the case. Some were a bit more suggestive: a close up shot of his ass while he was maneuvering the shooting range or a shot of his scantily clad lower half as he held a training session with the team. He could only imagine what you did with those,

But there were more polaroids, snapshots of him while he’s clearly asleep, blissfully unaware of what’s happening. Going by the murky surroundings, the pictures must’ve been taken whenever the two of you were out on a mission together and shared a tent.

Some were close up shots of his face, cheeks dusted in pink and hair in disarray, completely unaware of what’s happening. Other Polaroids were blurry shots of his body, silver of skin peaking through the clothes he’s wearing, probably a direct cause from all the tossing and turning he’d done in his sleep. Despite the nature of them, they were rather innocent, reminding you of causal snapshots someone would take of their lover.

But something about that had heat creeping up his cheek, blood pooling straight to his dick.

He could imagine you sprawled out on your bed, or seated in his office chair, one hand holding a Polaroid; probably a snapshot of him smoking a cigar, while the other hand was stroking your cock.

Disgusting he thinks as his hand shakily unbuckles his jeans, doesn’t even bother to take a seat.

How could he allow anyone as sick as you into his team? He thinks, hand grasping his dick, that’s already hard and weeping.

He should report you for misconduct and get you kicked out of the army, he thinks, thumb swiping over his tip, smearing around the pre that had been collecting there as grunts and groans escapes his lips

All thoughts escape his head as he sets a steady pace with his hand, stroking root to tip while his free hand fondles his ball sack.

“Fuck!” He grunts out, eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back as he fucks into his own hand.

“John?”

[bobcatblahs]

Today my random Doctor Who opinion nobody asked for is that I think each Doctor should’ve been allowed to curse, except it should be limited to *one* curse word that they could use multiple times.

My classic Doctor Who knowledge is limited, I’ve mostly seen 3/4 and of course 8.

So for this I’ll start with Eight and go forward.

Partially based on conversations with my husband because what else do you talk about at night?

Eight: Hell. ‘Hell no’ ‘What the hell’ ‘Go to hell’ it just fits. Especially with his memory issues and bizarre adventures

Nine: Fuck. Just sprinkle it anywhere. From ‘D’you mind not fuckin’ farting while I’m trying to save the world’ to ‘You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me’ in the big brother house…

Ten: Shit/Shite. Mostly used to describe the taste of the random things he licks or the situations he gets himself into. Frequently used phrase: ‘Donna don’t touch that shit’

Eleven: Damn/Dammit. Also sprinkled anywhere. ‘Take them all, dammit!’ ‘Good men don’t need any damn rules. Now’s not the time to find out why I have so damn many.’

Twelve: Fuck. Added liberally. Just. Anywhere. From anger to joy. ‘Hate is always fuckin’ foolish’ ‘Never eat fuckin’ pears’ ‘Do you think I care for you so fuckin’ little that fuckin’ betrayin’ me would make a fuckin’ difference?’

Thirteen: Back to Damn/Dammit. On occasion when necessary. ‘Dammit! If I was still a bloke, I could get on with the damn job and not have to waste time defending myself.’

Fourteen: Hell. He has plenty of what the hell moments. My personal fav and first would be ‘What the hell?! I know these teeth!’

Fifteen: C*nt. Not a word I can stomach out loud, but he’d use it in both the funny complimentary way and the insult way. Examples include ‘Ruby that dress is serving c*nt’ and ‘Lindy Pepper-Bean was a c*nt

(Idk why but that word just gives me the ick, but I know what I’m talking about with this I promise 🤣)

[dilf-rot]

Hot Summer - MDNI 18+

TAGS: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Logan has a knot, idc if wolverines are not a canid species I’m doing my best ok, Femme Reader, Friends to lovers sort of deal, Mentions of rut / heat, maybe a little feral?, also im giving this bitch fangs because he should have them, smut with very little plot, creampie, helping a horny mutant in need, PinV, oral (fem receiving) ((for like 1 moment)), marking / hickeys / scratching, this is literally just smut with minimal plot

WORD COUNT: 2560

A/N: Hey, remember when I asked if you would still love me if I wrote Logan with a knot? Yeah well here it is, may it comfort you in this terrible world <3 

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites  (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!) 

—------------

The summer at the institute was always a little boring, or even very boring. You were one of the few students who hadn’t made plans and ended up stuck in the mansion, doing mindless tasks and trying to not be bored out of your mind. It was mostly empty, and as you walked the halls, you hardly even noticed the change in atmosphere. It had just been you, Charles, and a few other kids that would pop up every now and then. So, you were rather surprised when you rounded the corner and saw him standing there. 

“Logan,” You call, and he turns to look at you. Your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him, sweaty and a little dirty from whatever he had been doing. “I thought you were out for the summer?”

“Yeah, was. Chuck called me back, gotta fix up some things.” He looks you over, and smiles, the flash of his sharp canines sending flutters right through your stomach. 

“Oh, well it’s good to see you.” You try not to stare, wondering if he has somehow gotten even more alluring in his brief absence. The length of your shorts, and thin fabric of your tank making you feel much more bare now than before. “I’ll let you get back to it,” 

“Thanks, doll. We’ll catch up when I’m done.” Something in his voice feels different, but you try not to focus on it as you head over towards the kitchen. He did look rather good, maybe even more than he usually did. Though you had been trying desperately not to think of him in that way, to preserve one of the few friendships you had built here. But the image of him dripping in sweat, in a dirt stained beater and jeans that were tight in all the right spots. That image would make things harder for sure. The thoughts of his teeth sliding along your neck, his rough hands clinging to your hips. 

You pushed those thoughts down as best as you could and decided you would attempt to read, lounging in the corner of the kitchen, book in hand. Your eyes flicking across the pages, barely absorbing the words, just trying to give yourself a reasonable distraction. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing this before Logan had made his way into the kitchen. 

“Reading?”

“Barely-” you laugh, but are briefly silenced when you look up to see Logan, shirtless. He has his dirty tank in his hand, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. It wasn’t even that hot out for the season, and yet he was somehow soaked in sweat. You couldn’t imagine the work Charles had him doing to be that strenuous. 

“Oh yeah? Something on your mind?” He loops the fabric of the tank through one of his belt loops and walks over to the fridge. 

“Uh-” You can’t help the way your mind practically goes blank as you watch him. He’s taken a beer from the very back of the fridge and popped the cap off on the edge of the counter, hopefully he hadn’t chipped it or that would be another thing to add to his list of repairs. 

“You want one?” He references the drink in his hand, you nod and stand up from your chair. Whatever book you were reading was quickly forgotten and left on the floor. You stand next to him leaning against the counter as he opens the beer for you and hands it to you. He must’ve bought them and hid them in the back of the fridge whenever he had gotten back to the mansion, cause you couldn’t recall seeing any in there for the past few months. 

As you take the beer from him your fingers brush against his, and as if he had been shocked he flinches. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. He grits his teeth and tries to regain his composure, but you can tell something is going on. You step closer to him, your hip almost touching him. He leans down towards you, as if he was going to tell you a secret.

You want to turn your face towards his, to swallow him up in a kiss, to beg him to tell you what he was thinking. But as he moves closer to you, you find yourself paralyzed.

“You smell good,” he breathes in, his face inches away from your neck.

“So do you…” You turn your head to avoid his gaze. He smells better than usual. Something about the smell of sunshine, dirt, and whatever sawdust or debris had been falling onto him made you want to reach out and grab him, but before you could, he corners you. Your back against the counter, his hands finding your hips and effortlessly lifting you on top of the counter. He presses himself against you. You're caged in by his large arms, the muscles taut and glistening.

His face against your neck, his teeth almost brushing against your skin. His rough fingers digging into your hips. The fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your thighs, now wet from his sweat and your sudden excitement.

“Logan-” you whine, practically trembling, and he seems to remember himself.

“Sorry, doll.” He steps back and looks you over, a devious glint in his eye. Without another word he is gone from the kitchen. You are unsure of what to do, or what even was happening but eventually follow him.

He has resigned himself to his room, and you can hear him pacing back and forth behind the door. You knock gently and the sounds stop. He opens the door just a crack, he seems even sweatier and disheveled from when he had found you in the kitchen. His eyes piercing and intense, his pupils blown wide, his breath slow and shaky. 

“Logan, are you alright?”

He grunts in response, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He looks you over, and opens the door wider. You step inside and he quickly shuts the door. He looks even wilder than he had in the kitchen, still shirtless, only in his jeans. Which you try not to make note of the very large and obvious bulge in the crotch. His hair is messy and disheveled, you imagine he had been running his hands through it as he was pacing around.

“Logan?” You walk towards him and he makes a strangled sound. “Are you feeling ok?”

When he turns towards you, your heart races and your breath catches in your throat. He looks so pathetic. Rendered down to some poor animalistic creature. He walks slowly towards you, and when he is a mere step away he grabs your hands and pins them up above you, your back pressed against the door. 

“You should go,” He growls into your ear as he brushes his nose against your jaw. “Too dangerous for you to be in here.”

“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me,” You lean into his touch, resting your head against his.

“Might,” He drops your wrists and tries to step away, but you follow. Keeping the gap between you as small as possible. He groans as you run your hands along his arms, trying to be gentle and encouraging so that he may tell you what’s going on. Before you can ask, he takes one of your hands and slides it underneath the waistband of his pants. 

Your eyes widened as you feel the weight and heat of his cock in your hand. You curiously push your hand down more and feel a swollen bulb at the base of it. Oh. 

Oh. 

Now you understood. You had at some points wondered just how animalistic his mutation was, but now you got it. Late summer was a rather common breeding season for a variety of mammals and it seems as if Logan was one of them. 

“Let me help you,” You slide your fingers up the length of him, tracing the prominent vein on the underneath of the shaft.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He shudders as you wrap your fingers around his cock.

“Why not?” You smile up at him, and you feel him straining to not thrust up into your hand.

“You might regret it.”

“I don’t think so,” you lean up so that your lips are nearly brushing his, and his restrain snaps.

He closes the distance and practically devours you, kissing you rough and desperately. 

It was as if a fire had been reignited within him and he could do nothing to put it out. His hands grasping and clawing at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against him. His lips leaving frenzied kisses against your jaw and neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and his tongue soothing the small marks left in their wake.

He lifted you easily, dragging the both of you towards the bed where he tossed you down against the mess of sheets and pillows. His hands running along the curvature of your body, as if removing himself from you would cause him great pain. His face was wild, that of a crazed man who finally had found whatever he had been searching for.

You were utterly breathless and your heart beat rang in your ears loud as could be. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them off somewhere, his hands hardly leaving your body for more than a few seconds. He drags himself away from you for just long enough to find himself kneeling in front of you, pulling you down to the edge of the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders, his head between them, looking up towards you with the most pathetically hungry expression you could have ever imagined.

“You’re sure doll?” His voice is strained and rough. 

You nod, your hands finding their way to tangle in his hair to softly encourage him to continue. He growls and presses his lips to your inner thigh, kissing the soft skin and taking the flesh into his mouth to nibble and bite at. Trailing up and down the length of each thigh, relishing in the small whines and moans leaving your mouth as he decorates your delicate skin with marks. Feeling satisfied that you were now his in this moment, he brings his attention to the aching spot between your thighs, dragging his tongue up through your folds to lap and suck upon your clit. The feeling electric and mind numbing. He slides his tongue along your clit in sloppy circular motions, sucking it in gently, generating small whimpers from you. He growls as he hungrily slurps you up, his patience growing thin as he becomes entirely enveloped in your scent. 

He pulls away from you, a small whine leaving your lips as you sit up and rest on your elbows to watch him. He quickly kicks off his pants, and you gasp when you see him. The tip of his cock is red with need and practically dripping. You feel a bit more intimidated now as you stare wide-eyed at the bulb throbbing at the base of his cock. You could only pray that it would fit. 

Logan smirks and hovers over you, caging you in with his large arms. “Having some regrets, princess?”

“No,” you lift your hips up to shamelessly rub yourself against his erection and he groans. One hand moving down your body to roughly grab your hip pushing you down into the mattress. He slides his cock between your wetness, your breath hitching when the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your arousal coating him, the slick wet noises make your head spin. 

“Please,” You whine. He presses the tip against your entrance and you try to lift your hips closer to him, begging for it to slide inside. Your breath hitching when it finally does. He moves painfully slow, the drag of his cock slowly stretching you out. A sort of burning rising in your stomach as you strain to be closer to him.

“So desperate,” He huffs, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close against him as he bottoms out. Your whines make his heart ache. “I’ve got you princess, I’m right here.”

You claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can reach. The knot at the base of his cock pressing into you, you feel like you could break. Heat spreading over your entire body. You can’t get close enough. You want him to devour you. To take what he needs and worry about you later, but he’s being so gentle that it makes your eyes water. 

His pace stays slow, once he feels you relax, he pulls himself back before pressing in again. Slow, deliberate, patient. He watches your face as you try to play tough, acting like you can handle it despite your trembling. When you flutter around him and a broken moan falls from your mouth he falters.

“I don’t think I can be gentle for much longer,” He whispers against your neck, kissing right below your ear.

“So don’t be,” your whimper flips a switch in him. He would have preferred your first time together to be different than this, to be softer and sweeter. To be kinder to you. But when you beg to help him, and try to take him so good, he can’t help himself. 

He barely hesitates before his pace quickens, and the sheer force of his movements is enough to make your brain fuzzy and dumb. The headboard smacking into the wall with every rough movement, the bed frame creaking beneath you. You’d feel bad about all the noise if you were in any position to feel anything other than Logan ruthlessly fucking you. 

His cock stretches you in such a way that each thrust presses against that sweet spot inside you. The knot at the base pressing against your clit. The slap of it sends little waves of pleasure throughout your body. His pace hardly falters, as you grip onto his arms, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to take it. To help him through it. Wanting him to use you and be satiated. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans as he feels you tighten around him. You tremble and whine, shaking as your orgasm takes over and you can hardly think of anything as his motions begin to falter too. 

He shudders as he pumps into you, his ruthless pace being diminished into small quick thrusts. You groan as you feel the knot slip in, and he cums. You feel so utterly full as more and more cum is spilled into you. So much so that it’s dripping down onto the mattress beneath you. Your eyes rolling back in your head, and you can feel drool leaking from your open mouth. Your body feeling limp, you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open and steady enough to look at Logan. He seems hardly affected. 

“We’re gonna be here a while, Doll. Don’t get tired on me already,” Logan grins, pressing his lips against your neck and you shudder as you feel his sharp canines graze the sensitive skin.

At least the rest of your summer would be far from boring. 

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Lean On Me

The three times Jeonghan sticks up for you, and the one time you finally get it.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and stress. Creepy guy in a club.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

You really don’t want to be out at the club right now. You’re not even sure how you ended up here. Your friends can so rarely convince you to come somewhere so crowded and loud. But it’s your friend’s birthday and you felt compelled to dress up and play along, no matter how briefly. You’ve been sipping on the same watered down drink for the last hour while chatting with a few mutual friends who have also shown up. 

Joshua has just walked away, leaving Jeonghan to sip his drink next to you as he eyes you carefully. “Don’t like the drink?” His voice is teasing and it makes you frown a bit. You don’t like that your discomfort is so obvious as he clocks your squirm from one foot to the other immediately. You can tell because he fucking smirks down at you behind his beer.

“Not much of a drinker,” you excuse, trying to sound light, but it comes out through gritted teeth. Every muscle in your body is wound tight from even being here.

“I’ll go get you something different if you’d like. Something a little fruitier to mask the taste.” He’s still watching you like a hawk. His voice is still teasing, but the offer seems genuine, like he’ll turn to the bar as soon as you agree.

Still, you shake your head, twirling the little straw in your glass. All the ice is gone by now, not that you had much of a desire to drink it in the first place. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.” The music is suddenly a little too loud and your ears start to ring. Your breath catches a bit in your throat. “Actually, I’m going to head out. Can you tell them that if they ask?” 

Jeonghan’s eyes drift to your mutual friend, the birthday girl, who is dancing on a table now. “I don’t think they’ll notice. I’ll drive you home, if you want. It’s late and you shouldn’t walk or get a taxi alone.”

You frown at him again. “How much have you had to drink?” 

He raises his mostly full beer a little, “This is my second one.” The neck of the bottle hasn’t even been drained yet. He watches you hestitate. “Nothing more than a ride, I promise. I just want to make sure you make it home okay.”

The DJ has turned up the music just a bit, the bass thumping in your stomach uncomfortably. You place your glass on one of the trays in the corner. “Okay, if you’re sure you’re safe to drive.”

“I’m sure,” he says simply, plopping his bottle next to your glass. He holds out his hand to you and you stare at it, so long that he pulls it back. “Hang on. Don’t want you to get lost in the crowd.”

Your hand loosely finds the back of his shirt as he leads you through the crowd and out the front doors of the club. In the night air, you can breath a little better and he doesn’t say anything about it. Once in the car, he rolls down the windows for you. 

Two

You’re out again, this time to dinner with some friends. You’ve had the misfortune of sitting next to Soonyoung. He’s really so, so sweet and means nothing by it, but he’s been drinking quite a bit before you got here. He gives you a tight hug that has your heart racing in the worst way when you sit down next to him. He greets you warmly none the wiser, and doesn’t seem to notice how you inch away from him. But at the cramped table, there isn’t far to go before you’re bumping elbows with Jeonghan. 

On the other side of Soonyoung, Joshua is doing his best to distract Soonyoung, but the hyperactive man keeps turning to you to talk animatedly. You’re doing your best to be polite, you really are, because you know he would never try to make you uncomfortable on purpose, but some of his awareness is gone because of the alcohol. 

Jeonghan stands after your third clingy hug from Soonyoung and announces, “I’ll get the next round of shots.” He turns to you, speaking a little softer. “Will you come help me?”

Much like the last time at the club, you grab the back of his shirt to get to the bar. He places the order with the bartender and then turns to you. “You looked like you needed a little breather.” 

You huff, hating how transparent you seem to be around him. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan snorts, looking entertained. “You kind of wear it all over your face.”

Someone comes up to the bar behind you, crowding you. Jeonghan’s gently grabbing your elbow, pulling you towards him. There’s a spike of anxiety, but being inches from Jeonghan is better than being so close to a total stranger. Said stranger is totally unaware of how he’s practically breathing down your neck, brushing up against your back. You feel your shoulders tense, but Jeonghan’s hand moves from your elbow to your back, pulling you toward him into his side. 

He leans down to be heard over the music. “Sorry. It’s just until we get away from the bar.” You give him a nod, because there’s a weird mixure of anxiety and relief flooding you. The noise and chaos is still a little too much, but his hand and side is warm against you and his cologne smells good. 

Nevertheless, you’re relieved when the bartender slides Jeonghan a tray of shot glasses. You trail behind him, hand on his shirt, until you reach the table again. He gently nudges you to his old seat, taking the one next to Soonyoung once he’s passed out the glasses. You can breathe a little bit easier the rest of the night, while Soonyoung curls into Jeonghan’s side.

Three

You open the TikTok notification from Jeonghan at approximatley 1:30am, mostly because you were already scrolling through the app. You send a reaction back and almost immediately get a text. ‘Why on earth are you still up?’

Here in the comfort of your bedroom, there’s very little anxiety about responding to him. ’Can’t sleep. You?’

‘Same. Want to go on a walk?’

That’s how you find yourself strolling the streets in the middle of the night with Jeonghan by your side. He’s kept conversation light - the latest stories about your mutual friends, or what he’s working on at work without spoiling anything. He asks how your work is going and you squirm, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You do your best to ignore his frown and careful stare.

“Stressful. Some serious deadlines coming up.” 

He hums, understanding. Your sure he does understand, given what he does for a living. “Well, I’d ask if you’ve been sleeping… but here were are.” He chuckles and it makes you crack a small smile. “But you’ve been eating right?” Your hesitation is enough of an answer for him. He’s stopping at a street corner, nodding his head to the right. “Come on, there’s a 24 hour convenience store down here. We can get you something.”

You don’t budge, peering up at him. “No… I can’t really eat much when I’m like this. It’ll get better in a few days when the deadline has passed.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrow. “Then come keep me company while I eat. I’m hungry.”

Fine. It’s not like you want to go home yet anyway. You trail after him in the dark and he holds the door open for you at the convenience store. There, he picks out some ramen and a couple onigiri. You sit across from him at one of the small tables in the store. 

When he slides one of the onigiri to you, you frown. “It’s light. You should try to eat something.” Your stomach growls as if on cue and you huff. He’s smirking, but there’s something soft and not at all arrogant about his expression. “Come on. Just try it.”

You pick up the little triangular snack, peeling away the saran wrap. He’s right. It does make you feel better. He silently slides you the second onigiri and you scarf it down. 

He buys you one more for the walk home on the way out of the convenience store.

Four

This time, you don’t expect to see Jeonghan. You’re out at the club again with a few of your friends. One of them recently got broken up with and this was an effort to cheer her up. It’s working because she’s already dancing with some guy, leaving you to escape the stuffy dance floor. 

At the bar, you order something fruity, remembering that Jeonghan said you might like it more. It strikes you as kind of strange that you think of him as you wait for the drink. When the bartender slides you the drink, you take a sip and know Jeonghan was right. This is way more tolerable. 

You turn to leave the bar, when a body blocks you. It’s big and bulky and the smell of strong cologne assaults your senses. Your body is already tense before you hear the man say, “Hey sweetheart, let me buy you a drink.”

He’s blocking your escape from the crowd at the bar and you kind of feel like a cornered animal. “Oh, no thank you,” you try to say confidently. “Just got one. I’m good. If you’ll excuse me.” You start to wedge between the space between him and the next person, but he’s moving to block you. 

“Oh come on. I promise, I’m nice. We can go somewhere quieter to get to know each other.” Something about his tone and sleazy smile makes you cover your drink protectively. 

“I’m good, I should get back to my friends.” There’s a bit of desperation in your tone that you can’t really hide now. The guy looks like he might become a bit irate at your rejection when he’s bumped to the side roughly and a hand comes to your back. 

“Hi baby, sorry I”m late.”

Jeonghan’s inserted himself between you and the man, and despite being cramped against the wood of the bar, relief floods you. “It’s okay, I’m glad you made it.” You’re not sure what possesses you to play along, but the words spill out fast. Perhaps because it’s genuine. You really are glad Jeonghan is next to you now. 

“Who’s this?” He asks lightly, looking at the guy. The stranger is shrinking away now, apologizing. It burns you up inside that your insistence wasn’t enough but Jeonghan’s presence as a fake boyfriend is. Jeonghan turns to the bar to order a drink and makes you turn with him. He leans down to your ear. “Are you okay?” You nod, not sure if it’s the whole truth. You can still smell the stranger’s overwhelming cologne nearby, so you lean into Jeonghan. If he’s thrown off by it, he doesn’t show it.

As soon as he has his drink in hand, he grabs your hand with the other, leading you away from the bar. His grip loosens once the crowd thins, but yours tightens, and he glances back, eyes a little wide. But he tightens his grip again, pulling you to a corner. You don’t release his hand and he lets you cling. “Did he say or do anything I should have hit him for?”

The words surprise you, but even more, the intensity of his look makes your eyes widen. “You would have hit him?” 

He simply raises an eyebrow, beer bottle up to his lips. “Yeah. I’ll go do it right now if you want.”

“I don’t… but, Jeonghan. Why would you do that?”

Jeonghan’s jaw drops a little. “You can’t be serious, Y/N.” You just frown at him and he huffs. “I would do that in a heartbeat if someone made you uncomfortable. I don’t play fake boyfriend for just anyone.”

There’s something teasing about his tone, but his fingers are flexing around yours still. “But you’ll play fake boyfriend for me to help me get away from a creep?”

“I’ll play real boyfriend for you to help you get away from a creep.” He barks a laugh at the way your jaw drops. “Y/N, baby, you can’t be that dense. I’ve been into you for a long time.”

You stammer. “Jeonghan, why didn’t you say anything?”

He stares at you for a moment. “I kind of got the impression that you wouldn’t want me to, or anyone else for that matter.”

He’s right. You haven’t been interested in dating in so long for so many reasons. But there’s safety in standing close to him, even in a setting like this. You glance around the club for a moment before looking up at him. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You kind of expect a smirk, but instead he gives you a sweet grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[jinuaei]

Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage. 

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth. 

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed. 

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.” 

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up. 

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden? 

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!” 

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well. 

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages. 

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

 “So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?” 

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food. 

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food. 

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…” 

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

(I unfortunately do not do taglists)

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Divider by @/cafekitsune

[bloodibambiidoll]

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

[moonstruckme]

omg hi! I love your writing so much and I’ve seen that you asked for doctor Remus requests and he’s on my mind day and night, I simply love how you write him. I don’t know if it’s a thing in other countries as well but in mine you have to go to the doctors around your birthday for like check ups and stuff like that, mine is coming up and I’m already dreading it (mostly because of the blood test, I end up fainting every time😣) but I’m sure it would be better if it was with Remus instead🥰

Thanks for requesting sweetheart, hope it goes okay!!

cw: description of anxiety, mention of needle, implied blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 972 words

The doctor’s voice is so soothing you keep almost forgetting where you are. You don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Alright.” He catches your ankle before you can kick him, sharing a smile with you as he pockets the small mallet he’s been using to test your reflexes. “Everything seems perfect.” 

“Thanks,” you say, then feel stupid.

You don’t know why you’re acting like he’s complimented you. You’re getting flustered by his raspy timbre and attractive hands (which had, just a few minutes before, felt gently along your neck and the underside of your jaw like you were a thing to be treated with care. Not that that’s important). The doctor—Remus, he’d told you to call him—smiles politely anyway. 

“All that’s left to do is get you sorted at the lab,” he says, typing something quickly into his computer, “and then you’re free to go. Ready?” 

“Um, yeah.” It’s a struggle to hear yourself over the beating of your heart. You can only hope you sound normal. You’d known this was coming, and still it’s giving you the cold sweats. “I just feel like I should maybe warn you, I tend not to do well with the blood test.” 

He glances over. “You’ve had problems before?” 

“I sometimes faint.” Your foot starts jiggling of its own accord. You don’t notice until Remus’ gaze drops to it. You stop. “Every time, actually.” 

“That’s fine,” he says, straightening and turning away from the computer. “In that case, I’ll probably keep you in here so we can do it with you lying down. Does that sound alright?” 

You blink. “Um, sure.” 

The nerves are hard to miss in your voice now, and you can’t quite meet Remus’ eyes as he directs a gentle smile your way. He gives your knee a squeeze on his way to the door.

“I’m going to go get some things,” he tells you. “I’ll be back soon, but while I’m gone I just want you to practice taking some deep breaths, yeah?” 

You nod. Another flash of that small, reassuring smile as he goes out the door. 

You try to do as he says, forcing your lungs to fill and then empty and attempting to ignore the pounding of your heartbeat. You can feel it in your face, in your temples, in your teeth. You’ll think you’re starting to get it to slow, and then a pair of footsteps will come down the hall and it’ll speed right back up again. 

It’s almost a relief when Remus comes back, putting an end to your apprehensive torment. 

“You can go ahead and lay back, love,” he says, holding the supplies low where you can hardly see them, and you take care not to try. The paper crinkles underneath you as you flatten out on your back. Remus chuckles when it tears a bit and you wince. “You’re fine, it can’t be helped. I’m just going to feel for a vein, alright? Not doing anything just yet.” 

You keep your gaze on the ceiling as his gloved finger probes gently at the crook of your elbow. It’s hopelessly plain and undiverting up there, no tiles to count or anything. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks conversationally. 

“Okay.” Your voice comes out with a bit of squeak to it, not entirely convincing. 

“Keep breathing for me.” The warmth of his touch leaves, and then a rubbery tourniquet is being tied around your arm. “I don’t want you to worry about fainting. It’s perfectly alright if you do, but we’re going to do our best to keep that from happening, okay?” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Good, just try and stay relaxed.” His voice drops lower, and now you know the soothing effect is intentional, each of his words mellow and mollifying. “Any plans for after you leave here?” 

“I, um.” You tense when you feel the cold wipe swipe over your elbow. Remus thumbs over your forearm calmingly. “I don’t know.” 

“Seems like you deserve a sweet or something after this, yeah? What sort of things do you like?” 

“I did buy myself ice cream,” you admit, “to have after I get home.” 

“Smart girl.” There’s a smile in Remus’ voice. You’re tempted to lift your head and see it for yourself, but you don’t. “I like the pre-planning. What kind is it?” 

You feel the odd bite of the needle into your skin, and your breath catches. 

“You’re alright,” he promises you, rubbing the inside of your forearm again. “What kind of ice cream did you get, sweetheart?” 

You swallow. “It’s that new, fancy gelato kind.” Your voice sounds higher than before. 

“Oh, I haven’t tried that yet. What flavor?” 

You’re starting to get a bit dizzy. “Chocolate cherry?”

“That sounds fantastic. I’m quite partial to chocolate myself.” You feel something shift, and Remus says, “Nearly done. You might be convincing me to pick some of that up. You’ll have to come back here and give me your thoughts once you’ve finished it.” 

You laugh a little, and he echoes it. 

“Keep still,” he reminds you. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” You feel the needle come out. It surprises you, a quiet whimper slipping from inside your throat. He tsks kindly. “All done, love. You did really well.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, and Remus’ eyes are faintly amused as they meet yours. He’s sticking a bandage over your arm. 

“Very seriously,” he confirms. “You did beautifully. That ice cream is well deserved.” 

The laugh that leaves you is light and pitchy with disbelief. “Thank you. I really owe you your own ice cream, after this.” 

He wraps a hand around your elbow, helping you to sit back up. “Careful,” he says lightly, “I might hold you to that. Next time I see you, I’ll be expecting a detailed review at the least.”

[amialunatic]

Just trust me baby..

divider credits to @anitalenia

Based on anon request: would you be willing to write a sam fic about his first time between him and reader where she has scars from her time with a vamp nest (say she was taken a while back and that’s how she got into hunting) and she’s insecure and a little anxious with having his mouth on her body because of the way she was once treated but sam is very patient and understanding. basically just really sweet and sam is catering and talks her through it :,)

Warning: Light smut, Fingering, Sam Winchester/ Hunter!Reader, Fem!Reader, brief mention of readers time in vampire nest. 

A/N: Omg my first actual fic. I'm quite stoked to be putting it out. Nervous too. I hope you all like it. I'm starting simple and soft core ig.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

“Hey, you awake?” Dean called from the driver’s seat. That jolted you from down the memory lane. They were returning from the hunt. It was rough. At least 10 vampires. 3 newly turned, innocent, and pain-stricken but unable to control themselves. You guys had to kill them all. Everyone sustained injuries. That was natural. You getting bitten was not. You tried your best to not get bitten as it brought back nightmares that lasted quite a while than you cared to admit.

Sharp teeth piercing you had been a routine for weeks. Until you were rescued by Bobby and the boys. They found you on the brink of death. Several weeks of hospitalization later, you were fit to hunt. You hunted alone, focused mostly on vampires. And sometimes with the boys if the targets were nests. Helping those trapped there brought you catharsis. You wanted to be the hunter you needed all those weeks. And you strived your best to be that.

As you got out of Impala to the motel you were staying, you realized how tired you were. Slumped shoulders and bitten forearms, you moved slowly to your room. In the background, you hear Dean invite Sam for a drink and he refuses. As soon as you enter the room, you get into the shower. Maybe warm water can block out the sensations, the fangs that haunt your mind when you close your eyes. It never has, but you always hope it does this time. As you get out, red from the shower, you hear a knock. Sam’s voice calls out “Hey, it’s me.”

You open the door to see him standing at the door frame all fidgety. “I didn’t think you’d be showering.” he looked unsure almost second guessing his decision.

“I was done.” You moved back as he let himself in. Awkwardly standing with his arms on the chair, brows furrowed he asks “You okay?”. “As ok as you’d be after ganking a bunch of vampires I guess” you tried to lighten the situation. But Sam was having none of that “ You got bitten”. “Yes Sam, vampires bite. That’s like their whole MO.” you poured sarcasm to derail the conversation. This enraged Sam. “Don’t downplay this” his voice raises.

Reaching your breaking point and seeing that Sam wouldn’t leave you without a confrontation, you spit out the truth “You wanna know? OK. I’m fucking tired and I’ll probably have nightmares for days." Your outburst continued as you paced the room in a dressing gown. "You wanna know how weak I am, how the thing that happened to me years ago still brings me to my knees? There you go”. These moments were always followed by tears for you. But he didn't have to know that. You move across to the window facing the half-empty parking lot and turn away, not wishing to humiliate yourself further.

You hear the shuffling of feet as you feel two large hands wrap around me. “Y/N..” his voice laced with sympathy and concern. You lean into his familiar hug, your back nestled against his chest, his warmth enveloping your core. “Sam. I..I don’t want you..guys to see me weak. I am not weak.” you sigh. Sam chuckles “Now that’s the dean-est sentiment I’ve heard you express.” you appreciated his efforts to cheer you up.

“Hey it’s not like you too to sit around and express your feelings” you counter.

He sighs “I know. Me and Dean. Not the greatest examples of sharing feelings. But..you can tell stuff to me. You know that right?” He continues. “Also I don’t think you’re weak at all. Infact you’re one of the most badass hunters for recovering and facing your fears.”

You look down with a grateful smile “Thanks Sam.” As you turn around to face him, you take in his face. His eyes look desperate. Like he is trying to convince you that he can be your safe place. That you needn’t be scared of being vulnerable. And you can’t help but place a kiss between his furrowing eyebrows. Those lines that form when he is worried. You wanted to stop those and let him convince you. To forget the pain and nightmares even for a moment.

“Kiss me”

He looked at you, slightly surprised. “Now? You sure?”.

They had made out before. But this felt different. Somehow more intense, somehow more desperate.

“Yeah Sam, kiss me. Now.”

He didn’t need more encouragement. He bend down, caught your face with his hands as he pressed his lips on to yours. Restrained strength flowed through his hands that he tried to keep in check while pure gentleness caressed your lips. He lifted you effortlessly so your faces were leveled as he continued kissing you, gently tugging your lower lip with his teeth drawing out sighs. You mindlessly tugged his flannel, wishing it’d disappear.

“Patience” He chuckles as placing you on the desk, your back against the wall. You hastily removed the buttons one by one while he untied the knot of your dressing gown in a nanosecond. Your freshly showered skin glistening with water drops stops him in his tracks. As he stares at your underwear-clad body mesmerized, he stops to notice the bite on your forearm, still fiery red, even with the ointment around it. Around your shoulder and neck were faint scars. He caresses the skin around the bite, careful not to cause you any pain. After gently running his fingers along the scars when he looks back to your eyes he only notices your fierce stare, bestowed on his eyes, his swollen lips, and his now visible body, muscular and oh so strong. How you wanted him to take you then and there.

Not wishing to drag it any longer, he starts kissing you again as you gently run your hands through the battle scarred abdomen of his. Moving down to trace a drop of water from your jaw to your neck, he presses gentle kisses coaxing you to lean back your head opening up your neck and chest in the process. He practically groans as he gently nibble across you neck connecting to your shoulder.

In a flash, you freeze and push him away. All of it happened so sudden, Sam stared at you one feet away, confused. In a moment of clarity, it dawned on him. He gently came close to you and tentatively caressed your sides. Your apologetic eyes said everything it needed to. He lifted your chin up to him.

“hey hey..baby. , it’s ok. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He looked at you concern etched in his forehead. When you remained silent he coaxed you “Baby, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just..I..was bitten..mouths on my body.” you shudder, visions running through the back of your eyes

“ Does it bring back memories?” He gently asks

“Sometimes, I just can’t block it. I want to Sam, believe me. I want this. I want you..so bad.” I look at him desperate.

“I know. But you know I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with right? We don’t have to do this at all”

“I want to. Sam. I need you.” you lock eyes with him, forehead burrowing

His eyes searched mine for any trace of hesitation. Seeing none, he reaffirms gently “Do you trust me, baby?” “I do” I whisper as I breath out.

“You can stop me whenever you need to.”

A corner of his lips curled revealing the deep dimple. “So no biting I guess?”

“Yeah, no biting.” You bit your lips slyly. “ Well not you anyway”

“I look forward to it, sweetheart” He nudge your lips again easing them apart. As the same time, his hands part your thighs as he stepped impossible close.

You feel his hands slipping the robe off you. Before long, his long fingers were moving closer to your core. His fingers slipped in to your panties and finding the wetness pooling, he groans. I met his gaze, my eyes a blend of desperation and embarrassment at being so affected by him. “Sam..”.

“I know baby” He looks at you for permission before plunging his finger in the wetness. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your fingers never managed to reach that deep. He ease it out. And again and again until you were a slobbering mess. To add to the torturous pleasure he lifts his palm so each thrust is paired with your clit being rubbed enough to cause friction but not enough to tip over. This was agony but delicious agony.

Sam looks into your convulsing face, his features radiating nothing but the desire to please you. To make you forget, to have a moment of pleasure, away from the darkness that consumes both of you. As you almost reach the height of pleasure, he adds in yet another finger. Through your hazily closed eyes, you don't see him kneeling. Suddenly you feel his warm mouth enveloping your clit. You gasp as your eyes flew open. “Sam..Sammy..” you say tentatively.

“Trust me baby..this will feel good” his voice is laced with soothing promise.

Before you can have further doubts, pleasure blankets you and drags you up to the height of it. As he sucks and laps gently, your hands involuntarily wander through his luscious locks. Finally with a cry and grasp of his hair, you tip over. His hands and lips soothe you through the fall with barely-there touches of your slit.

“oh god..that was..” you breathe heavily through your mouth as you struggle to push words out. Sam leans over and kiss you sloppily, with a goofy smile. “it’s cute to see you all thoughless and spent”

“Sam..you little jerk” you say in amidst panting.

“Hey remember I was the one making you moan my name a moment ago. Some gratitude” he smirks.

“And I’ll make you do the same, just you wait” you rope your hands through his neck pulling him.

"Is that a threat or a promise, honey? Either way, I'm all in." He interlocks his lips with yours, the deepening kiss tasting like an invitation for round two.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

MAybe there should be a second part! Idk. This felt long but not long enough at the same time. Please let me know if anyone would like a second part. I'll try to write one (meaning I'll probably stress over it and write it in 2 weeks)