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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago

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fellow + gidel ssr time fellas

(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME

***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***

First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):

(School) Grade/Class: None

Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)

Age: 26

Height: 181 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Hometown: ???

Club: None

Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)

Hobby: Watching theater

Dislikes: Saving money

Favorite Food: Apples

Least Favorite Food: Potatoes

Special Skill: Sewing

We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)

I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.

OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.

What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j

Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.

Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).

Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????

It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.

And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.

Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.

The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.

CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.

Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.

ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE

How uncool, Fellow-san...

His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.

Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.

If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:

First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...

bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.

Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.

The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.

I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.

Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.

Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.

AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.

Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).

LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.

And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!

In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~

AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART

The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.

Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.

I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL

OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

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Ok but what about Eddie dating a reader who snores and the gang is like wtf but he finds it cute.

ty for requesting anon! this is dedicated to everyone who gets sleepy at 5pm like i do hahah — eddie's girlfriend falls asleep during movie night and it's a big deal in the sweetest way (sleepy gf!reader, established relationship, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

A masked serial killer slaughters a group of pretty teenage girls. Their screams are high-pitched and painfully artificial. The murderer’s chainsaw is way too loud and far too dramatic a weapon. The bright red blood splatters across the baby pink bedroom in several obnoxiously vivid splotches.

Eddie Munson has never been more grateful to be alive in the golden age of slasher films — the absolute peak of godawful cinema.

He turns to the pretty little thing dozing on his shoulder and grins quietly to himself.

You’re the purest essence of beauty in all forms, but especially compared to the barbaric horror flashing across the television screen across the room. In the darkness, the neon glow paints you in varying shades of blue, green, and dark red.

You’re so pretty it hurts.

Eddie didn’t think he could love anything more than dumb slasher movies. Not until he met you, anyway.

“Tired?” he whispers to you when your lashes flutter across the apples of your cheeks.

It’s hardly seven o’clock — the sun has just barely set over the horizon — and more than anything, the tiny trailer is filled with fake screams and faker blood. Most people would be too horrified to be so drowsy. Not you, though.

Everyone’s always admired your relationship with sleep, but maybe just a little extra now.

Your features are blurry with the longing of slumber. They scrunch in refusal when you shake your head, cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of Eddie’s thrifted tee. “No,” you hum with a softness that says otherwise. “‘M just cozy…”

Everyone knows what that’s code for.

All the gang was over for movie night — some more begrudgingly than others (Steve, namely). The brunette boy shares a side eye with Robin on the other side of the couch before both of them turn to look at you.

Lucas sits on the floor and stuffs his face with popcorn, which he almost chokes on when he laughs. Max giggles at the boy in response from where she’s sandwiched between him and Dustin.

Each of them can practically count down the seconds until you’re fully asleep.

You inhale once — deeply, sharply. The curly-haired boy turns his wrist to check his watch.

“7 p.m…” Dustin observes with raised brows. He nods to himself like he’s impressed. “That’s gotta be some kinda record, right?”

“I’m pretty sure she was out by six when we were at Steve’s yesterday,” Robin tells him as she leans over Lucas’ shoulder for the popcorn bowl he’s holding hostage.

“Full on snoring by six-thirty,” Steve concurs through a mouthful of candy. “And her legs were on my lap, too, so I couldn’t move for, like, two hours.”

“What about last movie night?” Max questions with pinched brows. “I’m pretty sure she was asleep before it even started.”

Lucas shakes his head. “She was just napping, right? I’m pretty sure she woke up, like, halfway through.”

Dustin nods — the official connoisseur of you and all your sleepiness. You had been asleep by the time Steve turned The Outsiders on, but your internalized love for Dallas Winston had woken you part of the way through.

“It had to be scrubbed from the records,” the boy explains like it’s something a whole lot more official than you just being tired. “It only counts if she stays asleep.”

“What if her eyes are closed, and she’s using your arm as a pillow, and you don’t have any feeling left in your fingers?” Robin questions with narrowed eyes, recounting the events from the last movie night in question. “What about that?”

“Still doesn’t count,” Dustin shakes his head with a feigned sympathy.

Eddie listens to them with a distant smile on his face. They’re not making fun of you exactly, just noticing all your little idiosyncrasies that he loves so much. It’s what makes you you — the quiet, sleepy girl that’s all but the glue of the group.

If you’re somewhere else when everyone’s all hanging out together, and not snoozing on someone’s shoulder, something just doesn’t feel right.

“Isn’t she the fuckin’ cutest?” the boy muses amidst the light-hearted banter, the horror movie long forgotten.

His bright smile and twinkling eyes are met with a group of deadpanned stares.

It isn’t because you aren’t cute, because you are. Why else would Robin and Steve let you use them as pillows even after their appendages have long gone numb? You’re like a cat sleeping on their stomach — it’s too much of an honor to wake you.

Their dumbfounded gapes are more so a result of Eddie’s adoration for you. Because you’re you, and Eddie’s… Eddie.

You’re polar opposites.

You’re quiet and sweet and gentle, and Eddie’s never been any of those things once in his life.

You’ve brought out a softer side of him — one that none of them thought a brash metalhead like him could ever have. He talks to you far sweeter and far more gently than he’d ever speak to the rest of them. Mostly because he knows you get spooked too easily and that you always wince whenever people yell. And his PDA is an innocent kind, full of held hands and forehead kisses and boops to the tip of your nose.

Eddie Munson is so soft for you that he lets you drool on his shoulder and unknowingly steal all the covers from him when you fall asleep during movie night.

He’s so far gone for you that he’ll let you drag him to bed when most people his age are heading out to party for the night — just so you can drool on him and take all the covers from him in his bedroom, where you can sleep more comfortably than on the couch.

It’s all so sweet, it’s downright disgusting.

“It’s gross how in love the two of you are,” Steve monotones, the only one brave enough to say it out loud even though they’re all thinking it.

“I know,” Eddie affirms with a wide grin. “It’s amazing, huh?”

They all grumble under their breaths about it, obviously not as mushy with adoration as he is.

It isn’t his fault they’re miserable because they don’t have their own soulmate who gets tired at 5 p.m. and snoozes on their shoulder accordingly. They’d be a lot less crabby if they had someone like you to gush about.

Not you, though. ‘Cause you’re his and everything. But someone just like you, maybe.

Everyone dissipates when the credits of the movie start to roll — either to get more food, or use the bathroom, or stretch their aching limbs.

Eddie stays unmoving. He doesn’t want to wake you up.

You begin to rouse on his shoulder, shifting as you wake with a deep inhale-exhale. Your eyes flutter slowly open, and through the haze of sleep, you notice the empty living room and the scrolling names on the television screen.

“’S the movie over?” you question, slurred with the heaviness of slumber.

Eddie nods lazily against the couch.

He’s about as tired as you are now, with his legs cocked up on the coffee table and his head lolled back against the cushions. “Yeah. It’s okay, though. You didn’t really miss anything,” he assures with a crooked smile.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep…” you murmur, like you’re embarrassed to have slept so soundly.

“I know,” the boy hums softly to you. “’S okay…”

Your temple rests against his shoulder once more. “Wake me up before you start the next movie?” you ask when Eddie presses a lingering kiss to your hair. Your eyes are already fluttered shut again.

“Sure,” he answers, despite lacking any real intention to wake you.

He’d much rather let you sleep. He knows you need it. He doesn’t mind that you get tired before the sun has set, even though he knows how much you hate it. He couldn’t love it more, personally.

So, he lets you fall back asleep on his shoulder and tries to ignore how much it makes his heart swell. His ribcage shakes with the intensity of how much he loves you — how privileged he feels that you trust him enough to drool on his shoulder and not be embarrassed about any of it. You know he loves you too much for any of that.

“She still asleep?” Steve questions when the gang settles back in the living room. He rattles M&Ms in his palms before chucking a handful into his mouth. When Eddie nods, the boy snorts. “I’m glad it’s your arm falling asleep this time and not mine.”

Eddie’s glad for it, too.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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miupow · 5 days ago

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WRAPPED WITH A BOW 一 ୨ৎ ❪ 강태현 ❫

taehyun likes to play games with you, even when it's christmas.

pairing 。。。kang taehyun x fem!reader g。⧼🔖⧽ ⸝⸝ smut , pwp

cw。dom/sub dynamics・mean dom!taehyun・ligerie・free use・domestic chores・traditional gender roles・sex on appliances・dirty talk・degredation kink・breath play・hair pulling・unprotected sex・vaginal fingering・spanking・name calling (whore, slut, etc.)・creampies⸝⸝ wc。2. 5 k | to library。

requested. "taehyun unwrapping a christmas present but the present is you. " - offering yourself to taehyun as free use on christmas but he makes you do chores instead.

notes from lia。this ended up about twice as long as i meant for it to. oopsies. it genuinely took every atom of self control i had to not add daddy kink to this fic. you don't understand the depth of insane i am about daddy dom tyun.

getting gifts for a man who has everything can be difficult. of course, you knew taehyun would be happy with anything you had gotten for him, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to go above and beyond— you were his girlfriend, his life partner if you had any say in the matter, and you just had to match the effort he put in to all of the amazing gifts he always got you.

but you didn’t have nearly as much money and influence as he did. it was impossible to get your hands on an adequate gift for taehyun, no matter what it was you decided on, and it was only getting harder and harder the closer it got to christmas day. after being faced with what seemed like your hundredth sold out screen, you felt about ready to give up.

but then you had an idea. a devilish, ingenious idea that spread a wicked grin across your face. if you couldn’t find anything else to give taehyun for christmas, you could always give him yourself instead…

“y/n.” taehyun deadpans, lips stopped centimeters from the rim of his coffee mug. “what are you doing under the tree?”

you had slipped out of bed early to situate yourself before he woke up, but taehyun was a notoriously light sleeper— he shuffles out of the kitchen to the sight of you attempting in vain to worm your way underneath the christmas tree, the thick ribbon you’ve tied around your middle making it far more difficult to do so than you anticipated. several ornaments had fallen from their branches onto the hardwood floor, the commotion no doubt alerting your poor sleepy boyfriend. he blinks at you quizzically, raising a thick dark eyebrow as you blush and fight for the words to explain.

“i— i, um. i’m a gift.” you respond meekly. this was starting to seem less and less like a good idea the longer taehyun looked at you.

“you’re a gift.” he echoes flatly. if you didn’t know him so well, you would be worried that he was angry with you, but you could see the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of his plump lips when he takes a sip of coffee. his fluffy brown hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head affectionately.

“yes.” you shuffle back from beneath the tree awkwardly, propping yourself up on the rug with your hands that you had bound to your sides. taehyun’s quiet giggle confirms to you just how ridiculous you must look— you had half the mind to be embarrassed. you were supposed to look sexy, not silly, dressed up in strappy satin lingerie an eye-catching candy apple red. the heart-shaped corset pushing up your plush tits and cinching in your waist, accentuating all your ample curves and assets. the set was complete with lacy white stockings held up by a garter, the color matching the ribbon you had tied in a neat little bow right over your perky cleavage. however, it was difficult to be embarrassed when taehyun made you feel so comfortable and at ease. you laugh along with your boyfriend sheepishly, turning to hide your burning face.

it takes a moment for taehyun to fully process what you were wearing, his laughter quickly ceasing into stunned silence— you gaze back up at him to see him take a sharp intake of breath, his big brown eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. he gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his hot and heavy gaze slowly trailing from your nervous face down your scantily clad body, leaving a path of fire across your cold skin. you feel so small underneath his stare, his dark eyes looking over you as if you were some specimen, something to inspect and analyze. it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, no matter how many times you’ve laid bare beneath him, let him soak in your body as if he were studying for a test.

“i’m your gift.” you give him a wobbly, timid smile, resisting the urge to squirm underneath his smoldering gaze. “merry christmas, tyunnie.”

“but you were my girlfriend yesterday.” taehyun responds smartly, breaking out of his reverie, his lips breaking out in a grin. “and the day before that. what exactly makes you my gift?”

he can be such a shithead when it comes to teasing you. “i mean i’ll do whatever you want for the day.” you huff. “anything you ask for… how does that sound?”

“anything i ask for?” taehyun hums, placing his mug down on the coffee table before stepping over to circle you slowly. “anything at all?”

his warm, calloused hand comes to ghost over your shoulder, his fingertips electrifying as they slide across your collarbone to the base of your neck. he cups your jaw softly, applying no pressure, but just the mere thought of his hand wrapped around your neck is enough to make your breath hitch. “mhm…” you barely manage to respond, your voice high-pitched and unsteady.

your panties have been soaked since before taehyun even woke up, excited by the prospect of what was to come once you offered yourself to him, but now your cunt was really gushing. your clit throbbed as taehyun retracted his hand, begging for the pleasure you knew only he could give you.

“honey…” taehyun hums lowly, bending down low enough to breathe heavily into your ear, “how about you go and do the dishes from last night, then? and clean the counter, too. you made a mess baking all those cookies.”

you snap your head to stare at him incredulously. “are you being fucking serious?” you hiss.

“you said anything that i asked.” he smiles, far too innocently for your liking.

you could have told him no, really. he would have respected your feelings if you had shot him down. yet there you stood by the washing machine in your lingerie, your frilly pink apron on to protect the expensive fabric, folding laundry with a scowl on your face. taehyun had you do the dishes, then clean the counter, and then the sink too just for good measure— and now he had you catching up on all the laundry. on christmas day no less, you fumed. to say you were seething was an understatement… yet you continue to complete your tasks diligently, meticulous with the details even as you stewed in your frustration. you curse your boyfriend’s name under your breath as you toss his work clothes in the dryer, but you can’t help but have some semblance of blind trust in him. you’ve been through situations like this before with him, and you know he’s pissing you off on purpose just to fuck with you. he always makes it up to you in the end, and you really don’t have any reason to suspect that he won’t do the same now. especially on christmas.

just then, as if he had heard your thoughts, you feel taehyun come up behind you just as you started a second wash cycle. the broad planes of his chest press flush against your back, his sturdy muscled arms caging you against the washing machine with his palms flat on the rumbling lid. you quickly find yourself trapped beneath him, bent over the washing machine with your ass digging into his hipbones. he grinds against you sharply, the hard swell of his cock slotting itself perfectly between your pussy lips, and you can feel every ridge and vein through the thin material of his sweatpants. you gasp at taehyun’s sudden forcefulness, having done little but eye you from afar since you first offered yourself to him— he quiets you with a searing kiss, one of his large hands grabbing a rough fistful of your hair to turn your head to the side and capture your lips. your scalp stings deliciously, the painful pleasure making you keen; taehyun takes it as an invitation, deepening the kiss with his tongue enveloping yours in a hypnotizing dance. it’s so familiar yet so exhilarating, the way he dominates you completely, rendering you helpless and desperate as you grind your hips back on his and beg wordlessly for more.

taehyun tears his lips from yours, his kiss-bitten lips plump, pink and shiny. “stop fucking squirming.” he growls, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “i didn’t say stop, did i?”

his other hand rears back to land a deafening smack on your ass, forcing a high-pitched yelp out of you. your thighs shake from the sharp sting, your pussy pulsing in excitement, and you widen your legs instinctively for taehyun to position himself in between. you attempt to continue your chore as he palms your ass, turning back to the rest of the unfolded laundry— your hands shake as you fumble with the clothing, unable to focus on anything except for taehyun’s hands against your skin. he fiddles aimlessly with the waistband of your thong, pulls tight taught before letting it snap back against your hip. “i think i’m gonna keep these on.” he remarks lowly, running his thumb over the buttery fabric.

the hand in your hair slides down to wrap loosely around your throat, no doubt feeling your deep intake of breath. as his fingers grow tighter around your neck, taehyun tugs your g-string to the side, exposing your wet needy pussy to the cold laundry room air. your hole clenches around nothing, eager to be filled.

he hisses in appreciation at the sight, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your clit. “holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his wrist— he shoves two fat fingers up your pussy in one quick stroke, all the way to the knuckle. your cunt gushes around his fingers obscenely, fingertips curling expertly against your sweet spot, eliciting the filthiest slick squelches from your weeping hole. the pleasure was already overwhelming after being left needy for so long, but it still wasn’t anywhere near enough to satisfy your burning desire. you keen wantonly, pushing your ass back against taehyun’s hand, searching in vein for the hard cock he had pressed against you moments earlier.

“fuck, i can’t take it anymore, i have to be inside of you,” taehyun curses, tugging at the drawstring of his sweats. “you can take it, right baby?”

“yes! yes, yes yes—”

taehyun doesn’t have to be told twice, and you don’t even have to beg; in seconds he’s fishing his cock out and lining it up with your entrance, running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear you whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt. he rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his thick fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you were prepared for. no matter how many times you take his cock, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the girth of it, the way it spears your insides like it’s trying to tear you in two.

“tyunnie—!” you hiccup, reaching back behind you blindly. taehyun swats your hand away before grabbing tightly ahold of your plush hip and pulling you as firmly against him as he could. he feels so deep inside of you that you swear he must be poking through just beneath your belly button, your pussy so deliciously full that it made your fucked out head spin.

“i said keep going.” taehyun grits out darkly.

“i ca-a-a-an’t—!” you sob pathetically, shaking your head like your life depended on it. “tyunnie, please, i can’t, i need, i—!”

there was no way you could continue to fold laundry while you were being fucked like this, not even if you tried. your eyes could hardly focus on what was in front of you, threatening to roll back into your head in ecstasy. taehyun just tuts at you, feigning disappointment, his cock twitching against your gummy walls.

the washing machine beneath you switches cycles, beginning to shake and rumble in earnest— in tandem taehyun pulls his cock out to slam back in, his fingers around your windpipe doing nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek. before you could even begin to keep up his hips set up a punishing rhythm, clapping loudly and wetly against your ass as you whine and wail. his heavy balls smack against your engorged, sensitive clit with every harsh thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. you arch your back to take him even deeper, if you even could, pressing your face and chest against the washing machine as it shakes wildly. oddly, it’s the farthest thing from uncomfortable; it acts almost as a makeshift vibrator, the buzzing only adding to the burning sweetness that built steadily in your belly.

“you can’t?” taehyun coos mockingly, his blunt nails digging crescents into your hot, supple flesh. “we just started and you’re already fucked stupid? pretty little head all empty except for cock? dumb slut. useless whore. only good at getting fucked, yeah?”

you can’t even string together a sentence, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet taehyun’s thrusts with a dizzying force. your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. you wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely… but you were a good girl, and good girls asked for permission to cum.

“’m gonna cum,” you warn, putting all your effort into making yourself speak. “i need to—i wanna cum, tyunnie, please!”

“god, this slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” taehyun groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “i’m close too, baby, gonna cum in this slutty pussy— tell me who’s pussy this is, slut, come on. whose pussy does this belong to? tell me and i’ll let you cum.”

“you!” you shriek without a moments hesitation, big pearly tears threatening to spill over your lashes. “th-this is your pussy, tyunnie, fuck! yours, all yours— ohmygod!”

with one last rough, aggressive thrust, taehyun bottoms out in your pulsating cunt, bulbous cockhead kissing against your cervix as he cums with an animalstic grunt. the sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you needed to tip over the edge, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. taehyun hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. his erection no longer plugging you up, thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and taehyun’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

you look over your shoulder to watch taehyun slowly and carefully pull out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock— he doesn’t even bother to clean it off, tucking his wet cumsoaked dick back into his sweatpants before steadying himself back upright.

“clean that puddle up for me, won’t you?” he asks with a mischievous smile, turning to walk away before you can open your mouth to stop him. you’re left still glued to the top of the washing machine, disheveled and leaking cum, your legs still shaking from the aftershocks as you struggle to regain your footing.

christmas with a man who has it all can be quite difficult, indeed.

#taehyun x reader #txt x reader #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt fanfic #taehyun fanfic

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carolmunson · 1 year ago

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

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

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

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

October 31st, 1998

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Five years now, isn't it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Those rumors are true."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"B-but--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You were saying?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

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

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

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

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

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

You sniffle in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

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

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

Text

dance moms

laura freigang x dancer!reader

summary: after moving back to germany, to escape the chaos you've suffered in the states, you meet a photographer (who happens to be a footballer as well.)

a/n: if you don't know what the american reality show "dance moms" is, I'd do some basic research in order to understand the first part of this fic <3

growing up at the ALDC felt like being in a pressure cooker.

you were only two years old when your mom, isla, moved the both of you from germany to pennsylvania in the united states.

she put you in dance classes as soon as she could. at first, it was exciting—you loved the way your body could express emotions through movement. you loved gaining flexibility and having a routine. you loved performing and getting to put on pretty costumes. but that changed the moment dance moms came into the picture.

at just eleven years old, you were pulled into the chaotic world of reality TV. cameras followed your every move, every mistake.

abby lee miller’s constant critiques weighed you down, her screaming echoing in your head long after rehearsals ended. she changed since the cameras started filming her.

“you’ll never be good enough if you don’t push harder, y/n!” she’d shout during practice, her words biting deep into your skin like needles.

there were moments where you had solos. those were the dances you loved the most. you always scored very well and got on top of the pyramid whenever maddie wasn’t.

sometime during season four, there was a significant moment that didn’t leave your mind for a while.

you stood in the wings at a competition in san diego, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath after your solo. the adrenaline rushed through your veins, but it was dulled by the sinking feeling in your stomach.

you’d stumbled on one of your turns—something that wasn’t like you at all. but it was there, clear as day, right in front of the judges and the audience. and now, you were about to face abby.

as soon as they announced the results, you knew it wasn’t going to be good.

second place. you’d lost to maddie. again. but what made it worse was that you weren’t just up against anyone—this was a week where you were up against the candy apples. abby’s biggest rivals.

this meant that her mood was already sour, and you knew this was going to tip her over the edge.

the second you stepped into the dressing rooms, abby’s gaze was already locked on you, her face a storm of frustration and anger.

she didn’t even wait for everyone to sit down before coming at you.

“second place?” abby barked, her voice sharp as a whip. “second place, y/n? you know that’s not acceptable. not here!”

you flinched but kept your head down, your heart racing. you wanted to explain—to say that the stumble was a mistake, something you couldn’t control—but you knew it wouldn’t matter. not to abby.

“what happened out there?” she demanded, sitting down in her chair, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“you stumbled on a turn, y/n. a turn! something you should be perfect at by now.”

you swallowed hard, your throat dry. “i know, abby. i’m sorry. i—i just—”

“sorry isn’t good enough,” abby cut you off, her voice dripping with disappointment. “you don’t get to be sorry when you’re given this great opportunity! maddie would’ve never done that and her first place showed that!”

the mention of maddie stung more than anything. it always felt like you were in her shadow, no matter how hard you worked. no matter how much you tried to prove yourself.

abby’s golden girl could do no wrong, and you were left picking up the pieces when you didn’t measure up.

“you’re better than that,” abby continued, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“you’re one of my best dancers, but today? you danced like an amateur. you embarrassed me, y/n. you embarrassed this entire team.”

her words hit you like a slap, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. you didn’t want to cry—not in front of abby, not in front of the other girls—but it was hard to hold it in.

“abby, i’m—”

“don’t say you’re sorry again,” she snapped, her voice rising.

“i don’t want to hear it. i want you to do better. no more mistakes, no more excuses. if you want to be a star, you need to act like one. and today, you didn’t.”

you stood there, frozen, trying to keep your emotions in check as abby continued to berate you.

it felt like the weight of the world was crushing you, and all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, abby huffed and shook her head. “go. i don’t want to look at you right now.”

with those final words, you turned and walked away to get ready for the group dance, your body feeling heavier with every step.

backstage before the group, you caught maddie’s eye, and she gave you a small, sympathetic smile. but it didn’t make you feel any better. nothing could right now.

you wanted to scream, to cry, to ask your mom why she let you stay in this mess, why she let abby tear you down like this.

your mom stood by you and seemed like your biggest supporter. but as the years passed and you became a fixture on the show, you started to wonder why she allowed it.

why she let abby break you down, week after week.

“mom, why do we keep doing this?” you asked one evening after a particularly brutal competition weekend.

“why do you let her treat me like this?”

“it’s for your future, y/n,” isla had said, eyes clouded with hope—or maybe guilt.

“you’re going to be a star.”

but that wasn’t how you felt. you didn’t want to be a star anymore.

after six seasons on dance moms, you were burnt out. drained. you’d lost your passion for dance, the thing that once gave you joy now filled with dread.

when you turned sixteen, you’d had enough.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you told your mom one night after another exhausting filming day. “i want out.”

isla had hesitated, but eventually, the both of you left the show. the cameras stopped rolling, but the damage had already been done.

the chaos, the constant pressure to be perfect—it stripped you of any love you had for dancing. you couldn’t even look at a dance studio without feeling a knot form in your stomach.

you grew distant from your mom too. it was hard to understand why she had put you through it.

“why didn’t you just protect me?” you’d whispered one evening, tears filling your eyes. but isla didn’t have an answer that made sense.

by the time you turned 19 in 2019, you were desperate for a fresh start. you packed your things and moved back to frankfurt germany, your birthplace.

germany felt different—calmer, quieter. your mother didn’t come back with you which relieved you.

it was exactly what you needed.

over the next few years, you dove into therapy, trying to unpack the trauma of your childhood. it was slow, difficult work, but through it, you discovered a few other hobbies like photography, and ceramics. you went to university too.

and then, suddenly, almost unexpectedly, dance found its way back to you.

therapy helped you see it differently—no longer as something tied to pain, but as something that had once been yours. something beautiful.

by 2022, you were back in the studio, dancing again, feeling lighter than you had in years.

you built your own studio in a nice neighborhood in frankfurt. you weren’t a dance instructor now, maybe someday, but you used the space to practice or hire (emotionally available) dance instructors to help you.

one afternoon, while you were in the middle of a lyrical practice, your friend macy and her sister, sara, showed up at your studio.

the three of you had become close since you moved back to germany.

macy went to your university before you both graduated. she had nice tan skin and long raven colored hair.

her older sister sara is a footballer who plays for frankfurt frauen. sara was like an older sister to you, while macy was your confidant.

“y/n, you’ve gotta hear this,” macy said, leaning against the doorframe with a grin.

you wiped sweat from your forehead, raising an eyebrow. “what now?”

“sara’s photographer friend wants to take pictures of you, specifically, for her portfolio, she’s been keeping up with your instagram content!” macy explained. sara nodded in agreement.

“you know, someone who can capture those insane moves of yours,” sara chimed in with a laugh.

you hesitated for a moment, but to your own surprise, you agreed. “okay, sure. why not?”

both macy and sara looked shocked.

“wow, that was easier than i thought it would be,” macy said, her eyes wide.

“yeah, thought we’d have to convince you a little more,” sara added with a chuckle.

two days later, you found yourself at a field location, waiting for the photographer.

the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the area, when you saw her—laura freigang.

she was taller than you expected, with an easy smile and a camera slung over her shoulder. you couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was, and you made a mental note to ask sara about her later.

“you must be y/n, i’m laura” laura said, walking up to you.

“that’s me,” you replied, feeling a little flustered as her eyes met yours.

the shoot started, and laura was immediately in her element, capturing your movements with film. she had a way of making you feel comfortable, encouraging you to move naturally.

“that’s perfect, just like that,” she’d say, her voice soft but confident. the tone of her voice made you feel a certain type of way as well.

you danced freely, twirling and leaping in the open field, and every now and then, you’d catch her smiling at you from behind the camera.

there was one moment where laura calls you out for something,

“where are you from in america?” laura asked.

this was during a water break after shooting yourself doing high kicks and pirouettes.

“i was born here, but i lived in pennsylvania after i turned two. for a while i lived in california but that was until 3 years ago, when i moved back here.” you swallowed, thinking about the distant memories of your childhood.

“pennsylvania! i went to penn state for a while!” laura says, surprised.

“that is so cool!”

afterwards, there was definitely some flirting going on—small comments, lingering looks. after the shoot wrapped up, laura lowered her camera, looking at you with a playful glint in her eyes.

“you know, this was fun. thank you for doing this for me. we should do it again sometime… maybe over dinner?”

you blinked, caught off guard but quickly recovering.

“are you asking me out on a date, laura freigang?”

she smirked. “i guess i am.”

you smiled. “okay, i’m in.”

two days later, you were sitting across from her at a cozy restaurant, the low hum of conversation filling the air.

the two of you clicked instantly, talking about everything from the shoot to your different interests. halfway through the meal, you said something which confuses laura.

“do you have other hobbies beside photography? you seem like a pretty busy woman.” you smirk.

“i’m sorry?” laura’s eyebrows raise.

your eyes widen, afraid that you said something that is offensive.

“wait i’m sorry– its just sara tells me that you’re a photographer so i wondered if you do other things. do you go to another uni here after you left penn state or if you do modeling or–” you pause as laura giggles.

“i’m flattered that you think i am a model– but i play for frankfurt and the german national team with sara...”

your eyes widened in surprise. how did sara not tell you this? she just made it seem like laura was just a photographer in frankfurt.

“wait, seriously? you’re a footballer and a photographer?”

laura grinned. “yeah. i like to keep busy.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling more flustered than you’d like to admit.

“that’s... really impressive,” you said, feeling a little shy under her gaze.

as time passed, you started going to laura’s games, cheering her on from the stands.

your bond deepened with every date, every conversation, until one day, laura asked you to be her girlfriend inside of her living room.

the soft glow of the floor lamp laura has casting a warm light over her space. you sat on her couch, legs curled under you, a half-empty cup of tea resting on the table in front of you.

you’d spent the evening like this, just talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. but now, a comfortable silence had settled between you, the kind that felt intimate without needing to be filled.

laura sat beside you, her arm resting along the back of the couch. you could feel the warmth of her presence next to you, and every so often, your hands would brush when one of you reached for something or shifted in your seat.

each touch sent a small spark of electricity through you, a reminder of the feelings you’d been harboring for her since that photoshoot months ago.

“you’ve been quiet for a bit,” you finally said, glancing over at her, noticing the way her jaw clenched slightly, like she was trying to find the right words.

she looked at you, her eyes soft but searching. “yeah, i’ve just… been thinking,” she said quietly, her voice low and a little hesitant.

“thinking?” you asked, your heartbeat quickening just a little. you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind those light colored eyes of hers. “about what?”

she took a deep breath, turning her body slightly toward you. the air in the room shifted, something heavier settling between the two of you. “about you,” she said, her voice steady now, like she had finally made up her mind about what she wanted to say.

your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your chest tighten. "me?" you asked softly, not sure where this was going, but the intensity in laura's gaze was undeniable.

“yeah, you,” she repeated, her eyes not leaving yours.

“we’ve spent a lot of time together these past few months, nearly everyday, and i’ve really gotten to know you. i didn’t expect to feel this way when i first met you at that shoot, but,” she trailed off, her hand moving to gently take yours, her thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

your heart raced as she spoke, her words settling in the space between you like a confession you’d been secretly waiting for but never expected to hear.

“laura…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, your emotions tangled up in the moment.

“i know this might be a lot,” she said, her grip on your hand tightening just slightly, “but i really like you, y/n. i don’t want to keep dancing around it anymore.” she paused, her eyes softening as she looked at you, her vulnerability laid bare.

you both giggled at her pun before she spoke,

“can i be your girlfriend?”

“what wait?” you were surprised.

“will you be my girlfriend!?”

for a moment, you couldn’t speak. your mind raced with thoughts of every moment you’d shared, the way she made you feel without even trying, the way her presence made the world seem quieter, more bearable.

you’d known this was going to happen someday, but hearing her say it out loud made it all feel more real than you’d imagined.

“yes,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. but the word hung in the air like a promise, and the smile that broke across laura’s face made your heart feel like it might burst. “yes, i’d love to.”

her smile widened, and she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours for a moment, the closeness of her sending a shiver down your spine.

"yay," she murmured softly, her breath warm against your skin.

your fingers intertwined with hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go of the fears, the doubts, the baggage from your past.

in that moment, it was just you and laura, your hearts laid bare, and the quiet understanding that something beautiful was beginning between the two of you.

you chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look at laura fully. “how about i cook for you? tomorrow night?” you suggested, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

"i’m pretty good in the kitchen."

laura raised an eyebrow, smirking. "oh really? a dancer, a university graduate, and a chef? you're just full of surprises."

you grinned, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

and as she pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, you couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

it didn’t take long for fan pages to catch on. suddenly, everyone was talking about how one of their favorite childhood dancers was now dating a german footballer.

fans were floored and happy for you-- but to you, it was surreal in the best way.

as you sat next to laura after one of her games, her hand wrapped around yours, you couldn’t help but think that despite everything—despite the chaos of your past—you’d finally found happiness.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more!

a/n: wrote this two months ago but i wasn’t sure if i liked the writing and the concept😭 ill still post it anyways

#laura freigang #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #dance moms #meazalykov #eintracht frankfurt

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betterbooktitles · 10 months ago

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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

Consider subscribing to the Screen Time newsletter.

Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

#writing #essay #essays #lit #literary #funny #lol #drugs #books #humor #reading #better book titles #dan wilbur #bibliophile #pot #d.a.r.e #just say no #comedy

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tarosunshine · 10 months ago

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엔하이픈 𐙚 VAMP﹗

genre fluff vampire au 𖹭 warning blood jealousy pairing — OT7 x fem reader

— they use their powers and abilities.

NOTE : this is based on the webtoon ! (kinda)

𐙚 HEESUNG : read mind

“hee, where are you?” you called him in your mind since you couldn't see him anywhere. you hoped he could hear you wherever he was. thanks to the hustle and bustle of the place and the people, you couldn't find him, and he hadn't brought his phone with him either. “i'm near the caramel apple stand” you spoke again in your mind. about 10 minutes ago, heesung had gone for ice cream, while you had stayed in line for the ferris wheel, but they closed the game, so you had to move.

luckily, seconds later, you heard your boyfriend's voice behind you. “here you are. your favorite, babe” he handed you the ice cream with a smile. “i thought you wouldn't listen to me” you also smiled when you saw him and grabbed the cone. he grabbed your free hand, and you started walking. “if you call me, i will always listen to you, love” he said as he tilts his head to you. then you trapped your fingers with his and walked towards the car. on the way, you explained to him what had happened to the game, so you decided to return home.

𐙚 JAY : superhuman strength

“jay...” you sighed as you left your bag on one of the empty chairs. you heard a sigh from him too. “honey, you had to see how he looked at you. and when he touched your waist? and he make you uncomfortable!” jay speaks exasperated as he frowned and sighed over and over again. he was so angry at the guy, not at you. he could never get angry with you. “here, have some water, and don't worry about that idiot” you handed him a glass on the table and turned to pour one for yourself. but suddenly you heard the sound of glass breaking and you immediately turned in alarm in the direction of your boyfriend.

the first thing you saw was the broken glass on his hand suspended in the air and how the blood began to drip down his arm and hand. “oh my god, jay!” you immediately walked over and started removing the large pieces of glass from his hand. then you ran to get the first aid kit and sat down in front of him. his eyes were still in shock. “i... i don't know what happened to me, i'm sorry” he lowered his head in shame and let you clean him up. “was that your super strength?” you mocked, smiling so he wouldn't feel so bad. “yeah. i don't know why i couldn't control it. i'm really sorry” with his good hand, he caressed your face. you smiled at him and rested your hand on his. “and i'm sorry if i scared you.”

𐙚 JAKE : pyrokinesis

it was almost midnight, and after a long day, you and your boyfriend were lying in bed while watching a movie.

“are you hungry?” jake asked as he stroked your hair. you shook against his chest, but something suddenly came to your mind. “although...” you spoke, raising your face, looking at him with smiling eyes. he suspected what you would say and moved his hand away from you.

you immediately got out of bed and headed towards the kitchen as jake followed you with a smile and rested his arms on the table, looking at you. when you turned to see him, you had a bag of marshmallows. you waved in the air, and he shook his head smiling. “you know i can't use my powers all the time. it's dangerous, love” he approached your face and kissed your cheek. “just one... please?” he couldn't refuse if you looked at him with those eyes. “fine” he agreed, now kissing the tip of your nose. you smiled and stabbed two marshmallows with two forks, then you handed him one, and a small flame came out of his finger, starting to melt the candy. you looked at his hand fascinated, as if it were the first time he had done it. jake chuckled when he saw your face and then held out the marshmallow to you. you kissed his cheek in gratitude. “thank you.” “always, love.”

𐙚 SUNGHOON : half werwolf and half vampire

just a few seconds ago, you had stopped paying attention to what sunghoon was talking in front of you. “did you hear me, babe?” he asked, looking at you with puppy eyes. you smiled when you saw him and denied it. “sorry, sorry... are your fangs bigger than before, hoon?” you asked, changing the subject since that was what had distracted you. “my fangs?” he spoke, touching the tip of one of them with a finger and furrowing his eyebrows. you nodded, looking at his mouth.

“it must be because tonight is full moon” he commented, carefully looking at his teeth on the screen of his phone. you nodded, remembering. “well you look cute” you rested your hand on his cheek. he approached your face with a silly smile, causing his fangs to stick out, and he give you a small kiss, who turned out in a needy and long one. “ouch” you put your finger over your lips, feeling the pain. he looked at you worried and grabbed your cheeks. “oh, i'm so sorry. it wasn't my intention. i think i got a little too excited” he ran his finger over the small trail of blood. “i didn't though they were so sharp” sunghoon covered his mouth with his hand while he continued caressing the injured place with the other. “it's okay, don't worry” you smiled, to reassure him.

𐙚 SUNOO : mind controler

you had been at a party for a couple of hours, but you weren't having such a good time. it was already starting to get boring, so in a few minutes you would leave, or well, that was what you had planned until you saw a group of boys talking animatedly in an area that you had not paid attention to. and one boy in particular caught your attention, one with red hair. you looked at him several times, and his fox-like eyes hypnotized you for a few seconds. you didn't realize when your body moved on it's own and you advanced towards them, but you stopped and blinked, confused. this time, you made your way towards the exit but then heard a male voice behind you, and when you turned, you found the redhead, who smiled.

“hi” you meet his kind eyes as he tilts his head slightly to the side. you returned the greeting, somewhat embarrassed.

⋆ 一

“i can't believe that you used your powers the first time we met, kim sunoo” you says somewhat offended as you looked at your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows. the boy smiled, embarrassed as he looked away. “and they didn't work” you scoffed as you poked his cheek several times. he tightened his arms around you, looking with those eyes that tried to manipulate you that time.

“yes, and i'm sorry about that” he apologized, pouting as he approached your face, but right after that, his lips curved in a sweet smile. you wanted to pinch his cheeks. “are you trying to manipulate my mind right now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. so he raised both eyebrows and looked at you offended. “i promised i would never do it again, honey. seriously” he spoke before giving you a small kiss on the lips. you giggled and hugged his waist. “hm, then i just like you a lot.”

his smile remained for a few seconds, then he slowly kissed your lips again, placing his hands on your cheeks as he gently caressed your skin. “i definitely like you more” he says and nods, and in one movement, he makes you fall over his chest, hugging and wrapping your body with legs and arms.

𐙚 JUNGWON : teleportation

“i miss you, won” you spoke with the phone in your hand and pouted as if your boyfriend could see. you heard his cute laugh. “i miss you too. a lot. and you have no idea how much i want to see your face, but remember that i'll be back tonight” he reminds, and you could hear a couple of things falling where he was. “yeah, you're right” a sigh left your lips, trying to ignore the noise on the other side. you heard a guttural noise from him, then a curse. “sungwon? something wrong?” you asked a little worried. he didn't answer you. on the contrary, he cut off the call. you frowned at your phone as you moved it away from your ear. “what's wrong with him?” you murmured, puting the device aside and laying on your back on the couch of the lonely house.

“did you miss me, my love?” a pair of dark glasses and a charming smile appeared in your vision. you almost fainted from shock. “yang jungwon!” you gasped as you rested one hand on your heart and sat down. he jumped over the sofa, sitting at your side. “it was a lie that you missed me?” he asked with a sad voice. then you grabbed his face with a smile and gently removed his glasses. “i reeeally missed you.” in one movement, you pulled him towards your body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him as he hid his face on your neck. “did you just use your powers at daytime?” you asked, smiling. as he got apart a little from you, his lips twisted into a smirk and nodded. “because i want to see you. i couldn’t wait” he complained and burry his face in your neck again, inhaling your essence happily.

𐙚 NI-KI : teleportation, shadow manipulator

“it's always the same with you, nishimura” you complained and rolled your eyes as you began to walk with your arms crossed, ignoring him. the sound of his giggle reaches you. “of course! i know you love me” his mocking tone was evident, but you just ignored his words, leaving him behind.

“you know this would look bad if someone saw us, right?” he also whispered, looking at you with the same smile. you frowned and immediately moved away from his body. “oh, no... look, a teacher!” he pointed out surprised, you turned your head and saw the shadow of a teacher. you gasped and moved closer to him again to hide, but you immediately heard his amused laugh against your forehead, and you slowly looked up at him and sighed, realizing what he did. “stop using your powers and stop making fun of me.” you pushed his body and walked away from him, heading towards your classroom. he follows you, and you hear his mocking laugh again.

“love you? yeah, right. i don’t even like you” you muttered as you mocked his expressions. but suddenly, his figure appeared in front of you, and you collided with his chest. “nishimura!” you looked up, looking at him pissed. you met his gaze that was darkened. “you do not like me at all? i'm sure you do” he spoke, looking into your eyes with a playful smile. “nishimura, you can't use your powers here” you whispered as you looked everywhere. luckily, everyone was in class, so you took him by the shoulders, making sure no one saw, and moved somewhere where no teacher or student would see you.

#lim ⋆#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen vampire au #enhypen au #enhypen headers

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torasplanet · 1 year ago

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❝𝙅𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙎𝙇𝙐𝙏.ᐟ❞

PLUG!E. YEAGER + BIMBO!F. READER ft. PLUG!C. SPRINGER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you wanna get jealous over some crack whore and show your ass to connie? fine but now you gotta ride eren while connie watches. have fun.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; riding, slight degradation, unprotected sex, drabble, overstimulation, p in v, exhibition, mean!eren, mean!connie, threesome(mentioned), drugs, high sex, dacryphilia, cuckolding w armin(mentioned), college au, skin color not mentioned, ib

It didn’t bother Eren that much when you sat in the backseat of his car with a pout on your face while watching him deal to a dope-feen bitch who was touching all on his forearm, he could see where you were coming from and couldn’t get mad at you for being jealous, he just found it silly that you were getting upset over a crack whore who he didn’t even spare another glance after handing her the drugs she asked for.

You sitting there with a pout and your arms crossed against your chest ignoring him when he tried to talk to you didn’t bother him either. Eren was used to your fucked up attitude by now and just reminded himself to take care of that later so it didn’t lead to a petty argument.

However…what did bother him was when you purposely dropped five dollars on the ground on your way to the gas station store while he was busy practically showing your entire ass and lace panties to Connie who sat in his passenger seat after you begged him to give you money so you could get whatever fucking candy you asked for after ignoring him for the majority of the ride. That shit bothered him a lot, he considered asking Connie to handle the deal he was currently working on and getting out of the car dragging your ass back to the car by your hair, and teaching you not to fuck with him right there but no…he had a better idea. And that idea would come into play right now.

“‘Ren c’mon! My legs hurt…” You whined out planting your hands on Eren's chest as you sat on his lap on the couch with him eight inches deep inside of you, you had already come twice and your legs were aching! It wasn’t fair how he wasn’t letting you have a break! The brunette man simply looked up at you with his red-lidded eyes exhaling smoke into your precious face which was covered in tears and your ruined makeup, he passed the blunt in his hand back to Connie who sat on the other side of the couch watching the whole ordeal with a grin on his face “Hell no, you’re gonna fuck yourself out right in front of Connie since you love showing your ass to him right?” Eren said as you gazed down at him with watery eyes, it wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a statement you were supposed to respond to because no matter what you said, it’d just end in him giving a slap to your ass.

But unfortunately, you weren’t thinking, not at all this entire night but you never did “No! I don’t, only for you ‘rennie!” Connie snickered at your pathetic statement as more tears spewed from your eyes, you turned your head and glared at him which just made him laugh even more, you looked so pathetic. Completely naked while they were both fully dressed, sobbing, and now you were glaring at him? You looked like a kicked puppy more than anything.

Eren sat up straight at your words before gripping your jaw and turning your head to face him, you could now feel his breath on your face from how close you two were “Then explain to me why you acted like a stupid whore showing my pussy to him?” His green eyes stared daggers into your soul as you stood there looking down at him silent, you didn’t have anything to say. He knew why and if you said anything about it he’d probably torture you more for being a ‘jealous slut’ that’s how he would say it.

He narrowed his eyes at you once more before letting go of your face harshly making a sob escape your throat “That’s what I thought, now keep going.” Eren demanded slapping his hand on the soft flesh of your ass making even more tears escape your eyes and flow down the apples of your cheeks.

You glanced at Connie for help but he did nothing but hit the blunt while remaining in eye contact with you, you whined as you continued to ride him tiredly trying your best to ignore the pain in your legs. You hoped this didn’t lead to a threesome, they would be so mean to you! Armin wouldn’t just sit there and let this happen. He’d help you and tell Eren to relax and that you didn’t deserve it! Having Armin watch was way better than dumb Connie!

A combination of moans and sobs were let out into the air as you lazily rode Eren, your back arching when he hit just the right spot as the two men acted liked you weren’t even there casually talking and passing the blunt back and forth, that might’ve hurt more than your legs. Eren knew from experience that you lived off attention, you were like a Tinkerbell, if you didn’t get the attention you would just die and he was refusing to give you that. What a dick!

Wet sounds filled the room along with their chatting that you didn’t care enough to listen to, that’s if you even had enough in you to hear anything “Ngh! ‘Rennie!” You were nearing your breaking point cumming for a third time and Eren wasn’t letting you stop anytime soon, every time you even halted your movements slightly, he’d slap you on your ass or give you a glare that scared you enough to keep going but everything was too much and you stopped completely leaning forward and collapsing on his body continuing to cry loudly.

“Fuck are you stopping for?” Eren said rudely pushing your limp body off his looking at you with hate and disgust hurting your feelings even more than he already had “Too tired…please m’ sorry!” Eren didn’t even react to your pleas as you banged your balled-up fists on his chest tiredly to get him to sympathize with you somehow even just a little bit “Too fucking bad.” Eren responded, “Hold on bro, maybe she just needs a lil’ sum’ to help her.” Connie said with a laugh before standing and walking over to you, he grabbed your jaw with his hand before putting the blunt to your lips as you looked up at him your puffy eyes. He almost came in his pants right there at the sight of you.

He and Eren watched as you inhaled before Connie took the blunt away from your mouth, the springer male leaned closer to press your lips together but Eren kicked his kneecap making the gray-eyed boy look at his friend with a scowl “Fuck was that for Eren?” You watched the ordeal as you exhaled the smoke out of your nose just glad Eren wasn’t focused on making you continue, eren didn’t really like sharing. Especially sharing you but the idea of threesomes appealed to him as long as the other person didn’t kiss you.

“I ain’t even let Armin kiss her, what makes you think you can?” The Yeager man questioned making Connie scoff before he plopped back down to his spot on the couch grumbling something about Eren being too damn possessive to have threesomes. Eren’s head then turned back to you looking at you with the same lidded eyes that have been giving you little attention all night “Lemme tell you sum’ pretty…” He whispered sitting up again and getting close to your face, he gave you a small peck on your lips making you whine. You wanted more than just a stupid peck, small kisses are for cheeks not for lips.

You looked down at him with teary eyes as you tried not to let them spill out as Eren would probably laugh if you did “If you stop again, you’re not cummin’ for weeks.” The statement made your jaw drop and your eyes widen, the sobbing continued as you heard Connie cackle loudly “Better get moving jealous slut.” You pouted at the statement as they were the exact words you thought eren would call you while your salty tears dropped down onto Eren’s white tee, with these two, this night was never going to end.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#eren yeager #eren x reader #drabble ig #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #plug!eren #plug!connie #connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer smut #torasplanet.ᐟ #fem reader #bimbo!reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #marls-fics.ᐟ #◛⑅·˚♡ren.ᐟ #◛⑅·˚♡connn>_<.ᐟ

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justauthoring · 11 months ago

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too early.

you wanted him to live a long life, even if that meant without you

a/n: whos ready for some angstttt woop woop!

tw: minor spoilers for the manga(?), death

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

“Satoru.”

“I know.”

with barely concealed tears, you glance up at him through blurred vision. your shoulders feel heavy, and your heart hurts and Gojo knows that—of course he knows. Yet, there isn’t a single thing he can do.

He can’t change what’s happened.

“I didn't want you here.”

And he just smiles. in that way that Gojo always has. It’s bright, despite the darkness that swallows you both, and it’s genuine as his eyes sparkle down at you. He smiles even as everything hurts, even as everything else is nothing but a cold, dark space that you’ll never leave and now, neither will he.

“But I'm here.”

Biting your lip, you step towards him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I know.”

“And annoying.”

“Yup.”

“And you never know when to shut up.”

“But…” and he pauses for effect, face in yours so you can’t look away as his bright (and unfortunately, beautiful) eyes stare back at you with a twinkle of mischief. He’s leaning to meet your height, and he’s grinning far and wide, lips stretched out as he barely contains his own enjoyment. “You love me.”

And, regrettably, you do.

Rolling your eyes, you press a hand to his cheek, pushing him away as you groan.

“As if.”

The words are a blatant lie and both of you know that.

But you’re not ready to admit yet that your feelings for your fellow classmate are anything other than platonic. You think, maybe, hopefully, he isn’t either.

(He isn’t).

So, you’ll continue to deny it. Feign annoyance and disgust when really your heart beats madly within your chest, showing no sign of stopping anytime soon, and your cheeks burn, dusted rose across the apples of your cheeks. It’s all there, plain to see, but you plead obliviousness and Gojo does the same.

Obliging to you, he steps back, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone. “As if.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

Blinking, you turn to Gojo. “You mean when you laughed at me… to my face.”

Frowning, Gojo shakes his head; “that is not what happened.”

“That is in fact what happened,” you correct, shaking your head at him. He’s sitting in front of you, sitting the wrong way on a chair as he leans on the corner of one of the legs dangerously (and you swear he will end up falling soon). You’d been trying to catch up on some homework when Gojo had found you in the empty classroom and had promptly decided you were to occupy him for the time being.

(Geto was out on a mission).

But, he’s brought with him some candy and even if he whined every time you did, you still proceeded to invite yourself to a couple gummies every once in a while.

So, his annoyance is forgivable.

(And really, you don’t mind, if you’re being honest.)

“I introduced myself to you, you took one look at me, called me ‘weak’ and laughed.” You explain, sending him a deadpanned look.

Gojo continues to stare back at you like you’re lying (the audacity), before he blinks, as if thinking back. The grin on his face falters somewhat as the memory resurfaces, and he blinks back at you, looking oddly apologetic.

Not a look Gojo wears very often.

“Well, I take it back.”

You’re halfway through stealing one of his gummies when you pause, hand left stretched out before you as you stare back at him.

“What?”

“You’re not weak,” he shrugs, “and I shouldn’t have laughed at you. Obviously, I’m still stronger than you,” you roll your eyes, “but I take it back.”

Raising a brow, you squint at him. “Are you trying to apologize?”

“Maybe?”

“The answer is yes or no, Gojo.”

“...Yes.”

It’s more honest than you’re expecting. If you’re being truthful, this whole conversation is not what you’d expected at all.

But still, he’s apologizing, in his own way, and he seems to mean it. It didn’t really bother you all that much all that more–it was a long time ago and Gojo was just like that, though you’ll admit he’s lessened his smugness a little bit through the time you’ve known him. At least when he’s with you, he does, and he doesn’t make you feel like a infuriable piece of trash next to him, so, you know, he’s making the right steps.

(All the right steps).

“Well,” you settle on eventually, grabbing your gummies. “Apology accepted.”

And really, his grin is bright enough to forget that his apology was pretty lousy.

“Ow.”

“It’s not my fault you got hurt.”

Pouting, you turn away from Gojo, not wanting to look at his face currently because if you have to see his smirk one more time you swear you’re going to strangle him—

“Lift your arm,” he’s calling, a hand wrapping around your wrist to guide the motion. Your lips part at the touch, hating the flutter of nerves that hits you, letting your head rest in your other hand as you listen to him, lifting your arm, and letting him move it until it’s resting on his shoulder.

You stare back at him then.

“You should’ve let me come with you.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I thought you said I’m not weak.”

“You’re not,” he says plainly, pulling at your shirt to place the bandage at your side. Your cheeks warm when you realize he’s seeing skin he’s never seen before, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his fingers ghosting across sensitive skin. It’s enough to pull goosebumps, and you hope he doesn’t notice them.

(He does).

“I’m just the strongest.”

Shoulders falling, you decide to watch him. “It’s not that bad.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“That’s why I said I should find Shoko.”

“She’s not here.”

“Oh.”

(She is–Gojo wants to take care of you).

“Still,” you say after a moment, “it doesn’t hurt.”

He glares at you. “You were hissing not a minute ago.”

“That’s cause you pressed on it!” You argue, shifting in your seat as you ignore his heavy gaze. “You’re very heavy-handed, I’ll have you know. And no skill in cleaning wounds either. I swear, it hurts more now then it did before so–”

You stop rambling when you realize he’s finished patching the wound and is simply staring at you.

“So… yeah,” you finish lamely.

(You can’t think all that well when he looks at you like that).

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he says after a moment. His voice is oddly serious in a way it rarely is with Gojo. Though, it feels like recently, Gojo sounds more worried and serious with you than he had before.

You don’t want to think about what that could mean.

(You don’t want to get your hopes up).

“You shouldn’t go on missions where you’ll get hurt.”

“It’s my job, Gojo.” You remind, “I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You do,” he says sharply. “I’ll make it so.”

Licking your lip, you stare at the worry in his eyes. Gojo was very rarely expressive in his emotions and you’ve come to learn that he often hid the way he really felt; but sometimes it felt like you were the only one who really saw how he felt. Because he’d look at you like this, with a furrow in his brow and concern in his gaze and it’d leave you stunned.

Stunned in the way you couldn’t speak.

“Okay,” you whisper, forcing the words out because that’s what you settle on. That’s all you can settle on. “I won’t.”

“Gojo–!”

His back is turned to you, shoulders tensed, his hands clenched by his sides. Whatever you’d been about to say dies on the tip of your tongue because what do you say?

How could you ever say something that would be enough to fix what’s happened?

But still, you want to try. You can’t just leave it alone. Not after what had happened. You couldn’t even begin to think how he must be feeling, the confusion and hurt and rage that must be flooding through him.

And if you could in any way soothe that, you had to try.

(Little did you know, you’d done just that the second you’d called for him).

“I’m…” You hesitate, stepping towards him with a hand stretched out uselessly before him. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t–not with his infinity… “I’m so sorry.”

Gojo stays still. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes even shallow breaths is the only inclination that he’s alive and breathing and listening.

“I heard about… about Geto–I was called away on a mission so I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” you explain, your words rambling as you try to sort through the chaos of thoughts in your mind. You’d never had to comfort Gojo before–did he even want to be comforted? Did he want to be comforted by you?

You doubted it.

(He did).

“I’m so sorry.”

And you truly are even if the words mean nothing to him. Even if he doesn’t care that you’re sorry.

You still are.

You blink, eyes falling to your feet, and you’re starting to think you should just leave. Gojo clearly didn’t want you there or to hear you ramble, and it was silly of you to think that you of all people would be able to help someone like him.

Then, there are arms wrapping around your shoulders and you’re pressed flush against a strong chest.

“Gojo–”

He just shakes his head, holding you tighter and understanding, you close your mouth, letting the words you’d been about to say die out.

Because Gojo didn’t want you to speak and he surely didn’t want to either. It was easier to be silent but better to be silent with you. You made it all a little more bearable and if he was honest with himself, you always had.

He just hadn’t known how much until now.

So, instead, you let yourself ease, moving to wrap your arms around him in return, and his head is moving to cradle into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against the skin as he lets out the faintest, softest, shuddering breath.

You move to press a hand against the back of his head, and squeeze in the hopes it helps even just a little (—it does and more).

“Can I just–fuck it.”

Before you can even realize, his lips are pressed against your own.

Warm, soft lips against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as you tense at the contact, stunned, your brain lagging as you try to process what’s happening. A second ago Gojo had been chatting your ear off as normal, the two of you alone in your dorm as you often found yourselves now, because Shoko rarely had time now because of her role in Jujutsu High and Geto… well, Geto just wasn’t there.

Gojo was busy too. Really busy. And you were too. Maybe not as much, but in your own way.

Gojo made sure any free time he did have was spent with you though. You return the sentiment with ease.

It felt natural, after all.

And yeah, maybe you’d admit the two of you had been dancing around these feelings for a long time. You can’t count on both hands the amount of times Shoko has begged you to just kiss the man already if you were going to make love eyes at him all the time (her words).

There were other instances too, but they were too painful to remember.

You’d known for a long time the way you felt about Gojo, but you didn’t want to mess up what the two of you had. And that had been at first, before it had developed into this comraderie you only could find in him—and you definitely didn’t wanna mess that up by letting your emotions get in the way. So, you just… didn’t. It was comfortable, this bond the two of you had developed and the idea of losing that was too heartbreaking.

Chances were scary when it could destroy everything.

So you didn’t take any.

(Gojo was tired of not taking any).

He’s pulling back before you can move, slightly breathless as he smiles faintly down at you. “The point is to kiss me back, you know.”

And you blink, once, twice, before his words register and you gape up at him.

“I-I–!” You can’t find the words, feeling like your mind is short-circuiting as you stare up at him. Because it was so like him to be so smug when he’d just kissed you without confirming how you felt in return. It was so like him to just know that you were completely and wholeheartedly in love with him.

(Probably because he was too).

His hands are still on your waist and he’s close, more close than he’s ever been. You can feel his breath against your cheeks, and you’re sure you’re bright red, but you don’t want to pull away and you desperately want him to kiss you back.

Reaching forward, you decide Gojo’s words are all too fitting and to fuck it—you tug at his shirt, leaning to meet his lips.

He chuckles as you do, laugh warm and husky and it makes your knees feel weak as your lips meet his once more, eyes fluttering shut.

(It was, truly, everything you’d ever dreamed about).

And as you both pull away once more, breathless, he leans his forehead against your own and you run your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck, laughing lightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confess, turning to glance up at him.

Gojo grins; “me too.”

“So we were waiting for nothing?”

He shrugs; “guess so. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Your brows furrow, shaking your head as he shuffles closer, squeezing your hips.

“Because now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna go speak to that Megumi kid tomorrow.”

Pausing at Gojo’s words, you close the book you’d been reading, shifting on the bed next to him to face him better. He’s already looking at you, tired eyes focused on your own as you nod at him. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” He asks, as if almost hesitantly. “I could end up with a kid depending on what he says.”

You nod. “I know.”

Gojo seems puzzled, head tilting as he leans over to his side rather than his back. His hand falls on your arm, grip gentle. “You’re okay with that?”

“I am,” you answer. “I want you to do what you think is right.”

“Even if it means bringing a random kid home?”

Snorting, you nod again. “Yes, Satoru. Even if it means bringing a kid home.”

“We’d have to… raise him,” he explains, the words sharp and uncomfortable on his tongue. “Or, at least, pay for him to live. Something like that.”

You laugh, reaching forward to cup his cheek. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with.”

Gojo still seems skeptical. He eyes you like he’s sure there’s some hidden meaning behind your words or worried you might change your mind suddenly.

(You’d decided long ago you’d follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s what he decided).

“...You’re sure?”

Smiling, you hum; “yes.”

“Okay…” He says slowly, eyes flickering back to you once more just to make sure.

You just giggle, leaning into him and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“Remember I have that mission tomorrow, too,” you remind him. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with it but I won’t be there to help you until I come back from the mission. So, you’d be on your own with him for a while.”

Gojo guffaws next to you; “you’re acting like I’ve already decided.”

You raise a brow, glancing up at him through your lashes; “haven’t you?”

Frowning, Gojo squints down at you. “Maybe…”

Shaking your head, you just laugh. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“...Me too.” Gojo agrees, “if he wants to come.”

“He will,” you shrug. “I’m sure.”

Gojo doubts your certainty, but he doesn’t argue against it either. Instead, he shifts to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer against his side. You’ve got an early mission tomorrow, after all, and he doesn’t want to waste every last second he has with you until he’s torn apart from you for a whole weekend.

(Truly, the worst hell those higher up can subject him to).

You feel the same, of course. So you lean into him with ease, relishing in the feeling of his warmth and familiarity.

Thinking to yourself that your whole world will be different when you return—you and Gojo and a… kid.

(It’s crazy, but you still love the idea of it).

You don’t come home after that mission, though.

You don’t come home ever again.

And you don’t see Gojo until ten years later.

Setting your hands against his cheeks, you frown.

“I wanted you to live a long life.”

Gojo shakes his head. “Wasn’t worth living without you.”

You sniffle, swallowing back the tears that just continue to fall relentlessly. It was wonderful to have Gojo in your arms once more, but… but you’d wanted him to live forever… raising the new generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers and protecting them. Live a life, even if it meant without you.

You’d been content just watching.

But he was here now, regardless, and it would be silly to deny the fact that a part of you was happy to have him with you once more even if it broke your heart all the same.

“I missed you,” Gojo whispers against the top of your head, pulling you close into a hug. He holds tight and long, savoring the fact that he can have you in his arms once again after years of being forced to live without you. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you agree, pressing your face into his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home.”

Gojo just shakes his head, a hand pressing to the back of yours.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “because I have you now.”

#.justauthoring #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff

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your-local-simp-writers · 2 months ago

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Ashes of Affection

Word Count: 1610

Warnings: None

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The crisp autumn air danced with the scent of fallen leaves and the faint hint of caramel apples as Halloween approached Night Raven College. Orange and purple lights twinkled around the campus, casting playful shadows that flickered like ghosts in the fading daylight. Pumpkins adorned doorsteps, their grinning faces glowing in the twilight, creating a festive ambiance that filled the air with excitement.

You made your way toward the Ignihyde dormitory, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending time with Idia. You had both agreed to take a break from studying to enjoy the Halloween festivities, and you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

As you approached his door, you paused to admire the decorations he had set up. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the doorframe, and a few mischievous plastic spiders hung from the ceiling, creating an eerie yet charming vibe. The faint sounds of video game battle cries emanated from within, mixing with the occasional giggle from passing students in costume.

With a gentle knock, you pushed the door open, revealing the organized chaos of Idia’s room. Cables snaked across the floor like vines, and various gaming posters adorned the walls, each telling a story of epic adventures and battles fought. The air was filled with the comforting mix of popcorn and the sweet smell of candy.

Idia looked up from his screen, his eyes widening behind his signature blue hair and glasses. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. “You came! I mean, not that I expected you not to come. I just thought maybe—” He fumbled over his words, cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he gestured to the mess around him. “Sorry for the mess. I was in the middle of a game.”

You stepped inside, laughing softly. “It’s fine! I love your setup. The decorations are great! It really feels like Halloween in here.” You admired the makeshift haunted house he had built from cardboard boxes, complete with fake bats and a strobe light that flickered eerily.

“Thanks!” Idia said, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “I thought I’d make it a little festive. Halloween is my favorite time of year, even if it’s mostly just me gaming in the dark.” His fingers danced nervously over the controller, the excitement evident in his demeanor.

You settled down on the floor next to him, your heart warm at the sight of his enthusiasm. “What are we playing today?”

Idia’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh! It’s this new RPG that just came out! You get to build your character from scratch, and there’s this Halloween-themed event where you can unlock spooky outfits! There are monsters and magic and… oh, you’ll love it!” He shifted in his chair, excitement radiating from him as he leaned closer, eager to share every detail.

As he explained the plot and the intricate world-building, you noticed how his nervousness seemed to fade away, replaced by the confident glow of someone sharing a passion. The way his eyes sparkled made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile at the passion he displayed.

The hours melted away as you both played, laughter echoing in the room when Idia would dramatically react to in-game events. His animated expressions—eyes widening in shock or his mouth forming an exaggerated ‘O’ of surprise—made it impossible not to feel a connection with him. You found yourself leaning into his shoulder, sharing the comfort of the moment.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room was illuminated only by the glow of the screen and the occasional flicker of the strobe light, casting soft shadows that danced across Idia’s features. You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind that only grew when you were with him.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly, his tone shifting to something more serious. He paused the game, his eyes locking onto yours. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your heart raced, a mix of curiosity and anxiety bubbling up inside you. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face. “Everything I do for you isn’t because I feel obligated. It’s because I love doing it.” He ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous but determined. “I love spoiling you, making you happy. It makes me feel good, knowing that I can make you smile, or laugh, or turn your frown upside down.”

You could feel the sincerity in his words, your heart swelling as he continued. “I want to give you the world, sweetheart. I want to show you way more than that, but the world is all I got. All I can offer.”

His vulnerability was captivating, and you felt a mix of admiration and affection. “Idia, I…” you started, but he interrupted you, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I don’t know how to kiss, but let me kiss you, and I’ll do it just right.” There was a raw honesty in his expression, and the earnestness behind his words made your heart flutter even faster.

You cupped his cheek gently, feeling the warmth radiate from him. The world around you faded into a soft blur as you stared into his eyes, which reflected a mixture of excitement and fear. “You’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just trust your instincts.”

With that encouragement, Idia leaned in, hesitantly closing the distance. Your breaths mingled, the moment stretching out like a melody before you both finally met in a soft kiss. It was gentle at first, almost like a question, but it quickly deepened as he found his rhythm. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his emotions wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and wide-eyed, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… amazing!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed with happiness.

“Really?” Idia’s voice was filled with disbelief, his cheeks matching the hue of a sunset. “I mean, I didn’t mess it up completely, right?”

“Not at all!” You grinned, feeling buoyant. “You kissed me like a pro!”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned closer. “Just imagining a love life with you makes me sick,” you teased, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you both. “In the best way possible, of course.”

His expression shifted from surprise to pure delight, a genuine smile breaking through his typical shyness. “Sick? In a good way?”

“Exactly! I’m just saying that being with you feels like a wild adventure, and I’m all in for that!” You leaned back, your heart feeling light as a feather.

“Then let’s be adventurers together,” he said, his voice low but filled with resolve. “My love, I would burn down the world if it meant I could be in your arms. And I would spend the rest of my life with you rising above the ashes…”

The sincerity in his voice sent shivers down your spine. You knew in that moment that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories and dreams, laughing and teasing each other. The connection between you felt electric, alive with possibilities. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he resumed the game.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his tone.

“Not in a million years,” you replied, your voice soft yet firm. “You’re stuck with me, Idia. I like your quirks. I love the way you can get so passionate about things that light you up.”

He turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad you think that. I never thought I’d find someone who understands me like you do.”

The vulnerability between you deepened, wrapping you both in a cocoon of intimacy that felt like home. You stayed up late into the night, sharing hopes and dreams, the world outside fading away as you lost yourselves in each other’s laughter and warmth.

As the evening came to a close, you stood at the door, feeling a mix of reluctance and anticipation. Idia followed you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he shuffled beside you.

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, glancing up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of another day spent together.

“Of course!” he replied, a wide grin breaking across his face. “I’ll have something special planned for you.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” you teased, leaning closer as you reached for the doorknob.

Idia’s expression turned serious again, and he stepped forward, grabbing your hand before you could open the door. “Y/N, I mean it. You make me want to be better. You inspire me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re already amazing, Idia. Just be yourself. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

With a final smile exchanged, you stepped out into the cool night air, the stars twinkling above you like a promise. As you walked away, the distant sounds of laughter and the crackling of bonfires filled the air, reminding you that the Halloween festivities were just beginning.

You glanced back at the Ignihyde dormitory, the warmth of Idia's confession lingering in your heart like the glow of the pumpkins outside. Halloween had become a night of magic for you, one filled with the spark of new beginnings and the promise of love growing amidst the flickering lights.

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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 month ago

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Celestial Stars & Candy Apple Eyes (Castiel) (Dean)

Request: CanI request a Dean x Reader x Castiel (no Destiel) fic? Reader has been hunting with Sam and Dean for a long time (like since the events of early S1) and met Cas when Dean, Bobby and her went to the Barn (S4 E1). She had a Crush on Dean since the beginning and they kissed right before he died (end of S3) but they never talked about that again after he came back. And when she met Cas, she instantly felt a strong connection and also developed a Crush on him. So now she is conflicted, thinking both dont like her like that (Since Cas is an Angel and Dean doesn't talk about the kiss). The Fic could be right around S6, so Dean was with Lisa for a year which made Reader even more convinced that Dean didnt like her. And Cas hadn't contacted her in a while. But Dean, Sam and Reader started hunting again and called Cas a few times. During their interactions, the two boys realize how they feel and get jealous of the other for being close to Reader (or something like calling her petnames). Idk if all of that makes sense but thats the general Idea I had^^" @storytellers-randomshortstorys

A/N: you'd requested this back in April 2024, and I couldn't for the life of me think of what to do with it. SOrry for the lateness!

Summary: You're torn between man & angel, and cannot handle the jealousy anymore.

WC: 995

Warnings: jealousy, reader loves both dean & Castiel, pining

Read on ao3!

The Impala’s engine hummed a low, steady rhythm as the three of you drove through the dark backroads of Ohio. You were wedged in the backseat, your head resting against the window. Dean was behind the wheel, Sam in the passenger seat flipping through a case file.

The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. You felt it keenly, especially every time you glanced at Dean. Things had been weird since he came back from Hell. Not outright bad, just... unspoken. That kiss before his deal ran out was a moment you couldn’t forget. But he never brought it up after he returned, especially not with Lisa in the picture for a whole year.

And Cas—well, Cas was another layer of confusion entirely. He wasn’t here often, but when he was, you couldn’t help but feel the pull toward him. The two of you had this... connection. Like you understood each other without needing to say much. He wasn’t human, but he made you feel seen in ways no one else did.

“You good back there?” Dean’s voice cut through your thoughts, rough but edged with concern.

“Yeah,” you lied, offering a small smile.

Sam looked back at you over his shoulder. “We should call Cas for this. If that witch really managed to pull off a binding spell like this, we’ll need more firepower.”

Dean grunted in reluctant agreement. “Fine, but he better not be off doing Heaven’s dirty work again.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed quiet. Dean always acted like he didn’t trust Cas, but you knew better. He was just too stubborn to admit he cared about the angel.

Later, at the motel, you all regrouped in the cramped room. Dean called Cas, who appeared with the usual flutter of wings.

“Hello,” Cas said, his gravelly voice sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His eyes found yours immediately, lingering a beat longer than you expected. “Y/N.”

“Cas,” you replied, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

Dean huffed. “Yeah, yeah, great reunion. You got anything for us, Feathers?”

Cas ignored the jab and got right to work explaining the spell you’d be facing. But as the conversation went on, you noticed something odd. Dean kept glaring at Cas every time the angel spoke directly to you, and Cas—well, he wasn’t much for subtlety. Every time Dean called you sweetheart or kiddo, Cas’s jaw tightened just slightly.

Sam noticed too, of course. He wasn’t oblivious. He shot you a look that said, You seeing this?

You were trying not to.

By the time you were setting up for the hunt that night, the tension was palpable. Dean was unusually snippy, barking orders with more edge than usual. Cas stayed unnervingly silent, only breaking it to answer your questions.

At one point, you felt Dean’s hand on your shoulder as he guided you to a safer position near the abandoned barn. His fingers lingered longer than they should have, and when you looked up at him, his green eyes softened. “Be careful, okay?” he murmured.

Your heart twisted. “I always am.”

From a few feet away, Cas’s eyes bore into the scene. He stepped closer as Dean walked away, his presence like a calm yet electric storm.

“Dean seems... protective of you,” Cas remarked, his voice low.

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “It’s just Dean being Dean.”

Cas tilted his head, studying you in that way that always made you feel like he was looking straight through to your soul. “I don’t believe that’s all it is. He cares for you. Greatly.”

You froze. “What?”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense but not unkind. “And you care for him. But you also...” His voice faltered, rare for him. “You also care for me.”

Your throat felt dry. “Cas, I—”

Before you could finish, a loud crash from the barn interrupted, followed by Dean shouting for backup. You cursed under your breath and ran toward the noise, Cas right on your heels.

The fight with the witch was chaotic, but you managed to come out mostly unscathed. By the time it was over, the adrenaline had your heart racing.

Dean was pacing, muttering curses under his breath. When he saw you, he rushed over, his hands gripping your arms as he scanned for injuries. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because you scared the hell out of me back there.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Cas’s voice cut in. “She handled herself well. She always does.”

Dean turned to glare at Cas, his grip on you tightening slightly. “Yeah, I know that, angel. But she’s not bulletproof, is she?”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Cas shot back, stepping closer.

You stepped between them, exasperated. “Guys, seriously? This is not the time.”

They both looked at you, their frustration melting into something softer. Something vulnerable.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N. I—I care about you, okay? More than I should, probably. And I know I’ve been a dick about it, but—”

Cas interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Dean, stop. She doesn’t need your guilt. She needs to know the truth.”

Dean glared at him, but Cas ignored it, turning his full attention to you. “Y/N, I’ve felt this connection with you since the moment we met. I don’t fully understand it, but I know it’s real. And I know you feel it too.”

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

“Y/N,” Dean said softly, stepping closer. “I don’t want to screw this up. I care about you. A lot.”

You stared at them, your heart pounding as you tried to process their words.

“I... I need time,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “I care about both of you, but I can’t just... choose like this.”

They both nodded, reluctantly stepping back. The hunt was over, but the battle in your heart had just begun.

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missmarveledsblog · 3 months ago

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Odd one out ( logan howlett x reader)

summary : logan's adjusting to new life , new friends only thing he can't put his finger on is wade's friend Y/n , he knows she hiding something and he right but he is so wrong too

warnings : fluffy , goofy , no major deadpool and wolverine spoilers , violence , wade wilson , grumpy logan , grammatical errors (sorry in advance )

Adjusting to a whole new world , universe where everything was the same but different . Knowing someone and yet learning to know them all over again , like he was re familiarizing himself with ghosts from his past in one place and creating a new future in another. Adjusting to the one fucker who had him here in the first place was hard too , wade wilson was a strange one , hard to tell where the smart sarcastic ball of undiagnosed ADHD started and ended . yet he had this wonderful and strange group of people around him , they all stuck out and fit in somehow , not that he would admit it out loud ever . (“ i knew it he loves me!” wade wink to the reader) . but the dickward (“ harsh” the merc gasped.) well he grew on him. He wasn’t too bad not all the time those few seconds of silence truly when logan howlett actually would consider him a friend then his mouth started it usually nonsensical rambles and well he changed his mind again .

The friends he didn’t mind being around the lot they all had their own quirks , their own little nicknames or insults for wade and they all took logan in no matter what even when wade explain their whole adventure even the dark past that followed logan around even to this day . one friend he couldn’t get a read on , one for some reason stood out more than the others was Y/N or as wade tended to call her princess sparkle maybe it had to do with the midnight black glitter case she had her laptop in . the other made sense in a way all either mutants or coming from some sort of background, but well Y/N was different . apparently, when she was a kid she used to drink her apple juice while sitting in the corner of the notorious sister margarets helping mercs of all kinds find their targets for a fee of course . Her bond with wade was helping him locate some chick or atleast logan was sure it was giving francis was the name but in that whole thing she was the one that helped wade find them all using that laptop ln the black sparkle case . Giving she was youngster of the group and just well ordinary no powers the others we’re protective but something about her well logan couldn’t put his finger on it and it was driving him nuts what was her secret .

“ you know if you keep staring at her peanut well your going to give off a certain i got candy and white van sort of vibe” logan could feel wade once again too close giving the asshole breathe was in his ear .

“ it’s not like that , she hiding something i mean she not so social , closed off a little and well she barely talks about herself” logan scoffed yet his eyes never once left her form .

“ ok baby girl you probably know this phrase given you're so old you were there when they invented it but pot meet kettle” the merc gestured between the two . “ he is butt nuts into her it’s so obvious right?” he looked to the reader .

“ who are tal… nevermind i am not into her i don’t trust here plus she too young for me” he rationalized .

“ she’s an old soul i mean not american civil war old but get what i’m throwing down” wade winked .

“ hey i’m heading out i wanna grab books and coffee before the shop closes” she called rushing out before anyone could offer to walk with her. Logan didn’t even say anything just followed after.

“ he totally wants her right” wades looking at you reader.

“ wade who you taking to?”

“ the… nevermind hey did i ever tell you about my future prince , king god of thunder buddy thor” he asked heading toward his friend .

………

She hated it , lying to her friends not telling them she wasn’t as smart as they thought she was or how the sight of wades new roommate topless made her brain not function therefore caused her life to be now in danger. She been looking into her past , more so the men who had left her with no childhood nor a family resulting her sneaking into a seedy bar and helping hitmen and vigilantes find their targets . she wanted to make sure they weren’t still doing it and when she began to see multiple account of money she could use to well give back to the world well she got herself caught. She wanted to tell wade but she didn’t want to bother him too much it wasn’t even a year after his whole TVA incident and well saving the world so she decided she could handle it alone which that wasn’t the lie , she totally could it was just dealing with it in silence. Plus giving the said hot roommate hatred for her , she didn’t want to give that man any more ammo against her. It was a mystery to why he hated her so much , at first she thought maybe he knew a version of her in his universe that done him dirty but he was quite easily able to tell her she wasn’t anything thing to him , he didn’t know her there which was only good part of that place. Thankfully she grew up the way she did or else it would of hurt a lot more than it did , ok it still stung but she got used to it . she love their group like a family so instead of being interrogated or scared away by logan she avoided him kept her space from the man , ignore how he looked like he was going to rip her apart and not in the 50 shades of gray more like national geographic lions and a giselle sort of way .

She was so lost in her thought she didn’t notice logan following her or the group of agent sprawled out ready to pounce. Scanning the shelves for the next read she felt the metal barrel pushing at her side .

“Act natural or else” the voice smiled so she did she couldn’t cause a scene or react too many civilians and a lot of them were children.

She shrugged and let the man follow at her side as she stood at the counter pulling out the metal reusable cup .

“ the regular you know three pumps of caramel” she winked . “ oh this is my cousin franny” she smiled as the man looked at her before smiling to the barista .

“ oh free book today with each coffee so enjoy” the barista smiled handing her the scalding cup but she bit her tongue and kept walking “ somebody call wade” she whispered back at the staff.

Logan stood grinning , he had his moment of being right seeing her all smiles with a clearly shady prick , he was about to confront her for his big gotcha moment only he stalled when he heard them as if they were saying it to him .

“ in position we got her , subject will be brought back to containment “ that threw him off well that was til she walked out with the man throwing the coffee she had in his face and a gun he didn’t notice before falling to the ground as she told the civilians to get somewhere safe. First time in his life or a decade he stood shocked at scene before him . agent clearly not the good guys with this octopus looking things on their tactical gear rushing towards her. One man went to grab her only for him to fall to the ground convulsing and yet logan couldn’t see the taser she clearly had to off used . his jaw dropped as her skin began to glow almost a whitish blue all over her body and what looked like sparks floating around her. Not once did she looked scared or even phased at the situation , she took them on one by one almost like a dance in her movement as she sent them to the ground . when they did get a hit on her like the mere touch sent them to the ground convulsing . he honestly stood conflicted he knew he was way off but also who the hell was this girl really . he wanted to help but she didn’t need it even when they ganged up on her she held her own . when last man fell she returned back to normal skin back to color , the sparks disappeared like a mist and she leaned over slightly panting .

“ call the authorities tell them to get shield here or fbi” she stood only for one to sneak out and hit her head hard sending her to the ground unconscious . thats when he snapped into action how dare that man touch her like that , what a cheap shot too logan knocked man out ignoring the lady who yelled she called the cops and he brought her back to wades.

The moment he walked into the apartment with her in his arms out cold the room went silent . he growled at shatterstar and colossus making them instantly move from the couch as he placed her gently on it. Vanessa ran to check her over as logan explained what happened .

“ she was fucking glowing like a night light or some shit …. You don’t look surprised so you already knew , why did no one tell me ” he looked to see not one of them looked shocked to know she was a mutant. they all nodded giving him a sympathetic smile.

“ why do you think i call her princess sparkles , the coffee place rang” wade called heading to his room before returning . “ you saving her ass like a knight in tight yellow spandex , i knew you liked her kitten” he winked as he placed the adventure time comforter over her sleeping form .

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