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The Way You Kiss Me
[Travis "Trapper" Beasley x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: He’s called “Trapper” for a reason.
WC: 1443
Category: Fluff, Lime/Spice
I would say this is a fan service… but, truthfully, I couldn’t help myself. This is a service to myself LMFAO (enjoy the gif of Dan in The Guest since GxK is still fresh in theaters. I cannot wait for this movie to come out in hd quality 🤭)
『••✎••』
Trapper was a bit of a wildcard, in your opinion. You'd known him since your teenage years and had been the one to give him his name. He'd always been a bit of a recluse, even back then. The man was more comfortable around animals than he was with people. The compassion he had for the four-legged beasts was something you had always admired. It was his love of nature and the wild that had drawn you in; you'd never been able to pinpoint why.
That had been over ten years ago, but it felt like no time had passed. You had gone to school, became what you always dreamed of, and moved back to your hometown.
And, of course, it was only inevitable that Trapper would have trapped you.
It hadn't happened right away.
No, it had started slow, like a creeping fog. You didn't even notice it until you found yourself missing the smell of his cologne and his walkman that he still carried around everywhere.
“Yeah, luv, not everywhere's got Wi-Fi, you know?” He would always say, and the thick Australian accent would make your heart flutter.
He was kind, gentle, and a bit goofy. He could sing like a dream (not really, he was quite awful) and was the best vet in the whole world, or at least in your mind. He was utterly perfect on the inside.
And the outside? Well, a pure accident had gotten you two together.
You'd gone into his office, just like every other time, to borrow another of his rare records. Usually, he was there to let you in, but when he wasn't, you were thankful he kept a spare key under the mat.
The office had been quiet, and as you walked through the small space, you frowned, knowing that he never missed a day, even when he was sick.
Turns out your suspicion was right.
His water got cut off, so he swung by the office to shower, and well, you'd gotten to him before he'd managed to change. So, there you were, in your scrubs and lab coat, walking in on him fresh from a shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.
It had been an awkward encounter, to say the least.
Trapper was not a big guy. Sure, he had broad shoulders and was decently strong, but his height was on the shorter side, and his muscles were more toned than they were bulky. He was handsome in his own way, and that was one thing you'd always liked. He didn't look like a bodybuilder or some sort of model. He looked like a normal man.
But the moment you saw him standing there, dripping wet and looking a bit shocked, it was like a switch flipped. Your knees felt weak, and the butterflies that had made their homes in your stomach started flapping their wings, making you feel all flustered and a bit embarrassed.
It made it worse when you realized he had his Walkman hanging around his neck. Dude couldn’t even make it a day without his favorite tunes.
And the fact that you had his favorite record clutched in your arms wasn’t helping.
You were the first to speak.
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like this; I was just-."
He cut you off.
"Ah, yeah, forgot to call, didn't I? Water got shut off this morning, thought I'd shower here." He looked around. "Sorry 'bout the mess. Didn't know you were coming by today."
The towel was slipping. You could see his hip bones. You tried to look away, but you couldn't help it. He had such a nice body, and you'd never even noticed it until then.
You shook your head.
"It's fine. I, um, was just looking for one of your records; I didn't mean to."
He raised his hands.
“Settle down, sweetheart, don't get yourself worked up. No harm done."
It was only then that he seemed to realize what was happening. His eyes widened slightly.
"Oh. Sorry, I can just..."
"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead."
It was then that he noticed the album you had clutched to your chest. A smile spread across his face, and he gave you a knowing look.
"Fleetwood Mac… again? How many times is this now? Four?"
You flushed.
"I told you, they're my favorite."
He smiled and shook his head.
"You're lucky I don’t mind sharing. Come on, let's see which one it is."
As he took the album from you, his hand brushed yours, and you couldn't help the jolt that went up your arm.
He didn't seem to notice, thankfully, and instead flipped open the case.
"Ah, Rumours. My personal favorite."
Your heart was racing. You could hear your blood in your ears, and all you could think about was how good he looked in a towel.
He looked up and met your gaze. His lips twitched upwards.
"Welp,” He closed the case and handed it back to you. “Go ahead. It's all yours."
He stepped past you and walked to his office, leaving a trail of water behind him. You stood there, unable to move, just staring after him, the record still held tight to your chest.
"Hey, Traps?" You called.
He appeared in the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"What’re you listening to?"
He grinned and held up his Walkman.
“Toto. I was feeling a bit… nostalgic."
You couldn't help the laugh that came from your lips.
"Of course you are."
His grin was contagious, and he disappeared back into his office, leaving you standing there, feeling like a teenage girl with her first crush. Except the crush didn’t stay a crush for long.
You forget what happened initially, but one minute, you were holding the record out in the hallway; the next minute, you were on the couch in his office, the record discarded on the floor, and his lips were on yours.
You weren’t really sure who had kissed who first, but you had been surprised at his actions, and he had pulled away quickly.
The break was short-lived, and the next thing you knew, you were both making out, his freshly picked out plaid pullover discarded somewhere, and your hands buried in his hair, tugging at the ashy blonde locks as he peppered kisses all along your neck.
His skin was soft, and you could tell he put lotion on. His hair smelled like the shampoo he used, and his breath smelled like coffee and mint.
He had a bit of scruff on his cheeks, and you could feel the hairs brush against your skin. Ticklish, but in a good way.
He had strong hands, and they were running along your sides, pulling your hips against his, and the pressure was enough to make you moan into his mouth.
Nothing further had happened that day. It was his workplace, after all. It's one of the things he actually took seriously. But that didn’t stop you two from doing things in his office on the weekends.
Like now, for instance.
He had you pressed up against the door, his mouth working along your jaw and down your neck, his hands running over your back.
Your head was swimming. You couldn’t think straight. The only thing you could process was him: his touch, his smell, his voice.
You felt him push a leg between yours, and you ground yourself against him.
The groan that rumbled in his chest had you shivering, and you reached for him, fingers grabbing for purchase on his shirt.
He was a sight to behold. Hair mussed from your fingers, lips red and swollen, eyes darkened by lust.
His Walkman was never too far, and as his lips moved back up to meet yours, his hands were fiddling with the buttons. Honestly, it was a miracle he could still find the music while being preoccupied.
The sounds of the first few notes of the song had you smiling.
He pulled away and grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"A fan of this one?"
You didn't answer.
Instead, you took his hand and twirled him, pulling him against you, chests pressed together.
His laughter rang in your ears, and the next thing you knew, you were swaying back and forth, cheek resting against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.
For a little while, you forgot about everything: no work, no big apes or lizards, no giant monsters or crazy scientists.
There was no need for them. Not now.
You were trapped in his arms, and you had no plans of breaking free.
#trapper#travis beasley#trapper x reader#trapper x female!reader#trapper/reader#gxk#gxk spoilers#gxk: the new empire#godzilla#king kong#godzilla x kong: the new empire#godzilla vs kong#gxk trapper#trapper gxk#dan stevens#dan stevens x reader#fanfic#reader#fanfiction#travis ‘trapper’ beasley#trapper x you#dan stevens imagine#trapper imagine#godzilla x kong spoilers#the guest#skull island#godzilla fandom#king kong fandom#godzilla vs king kong#x reader
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Please I'm begging you to do the trapper/ Evan nsfw headcannons🙏
I’m gonna be honest, Evan’s a hard one simply with how little there is about his character in his lore, but this is what I got from him.
Trapper nsfw headcanons
Pairing: The Trapper | Evan MacMilan x fem!reader
Cw: hard dom, soft dom, aftercare, possessive behaviour, rough sex, cuddling, predator/prey, master/pet, pet names, praise kink, tel me if I missed any. Wc: 1k
Evan is a very like-father-like-son character, where the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” becomes much too realistic. Before his crazed massacre, the sudden shift in his mind from a calm and controlling person to a bloodthirsty and power-hungry killer, he thrived on control, the dominant figure in a familiar —patriarchy. Despite every clue and fact hinting at him being a control freak, dominating and intense, he knows how to level himself out, watching, calculating, and seeing whether or not his roughness fits the moment.
If the moment’s, he’d be the leading figure with an iron hand and unchanging will, bending and pushing you in ways that would usually test someone, test their dedication, but he knew the limits, to keep an eye out for your subtle cues of discomfort or apprehension.
Evan could easily be the hard dom, making you bend to his will, hissing and degrading you down to his toy, something existing solely for his pleasure. He likes making you obey him willingly, to witness you submit to his words, mewling and moaning around him or gagging on his cock, shoved down your throat with little care for your pleasure. He might occasionally give you orders that he knows you wouldn’t be able to fulfil, to make you swallow him whole when you could hardly take half of him in your mouth; to make you cum around your fingers when he knew they were too small compared to his thick and rough ones; and forcing you to adhere to his games.
Along with his dominant countenance, Predator/prey is something he likes, the chase and the adrenaline of hunting you - without his bear traps, he can’t have you wounded and bleeding, crying because of him in fear of what he could do more to hurt you - so that he can fuck you once he gets his hands on you. He’s a killer, it’s almost instinctual, the need to hunt and ensnare his prey. Running made him feel high on adrenaline, trying to catch you and make you submit to him through rough gestures and a harsh hand.
That came hand in hand with another kink of his —Master/pet. After a long or short chase, he’d show you your place: under him. Rather than the usual version, he hated being called master, he preferred being called your owner, your hunter, and you, the little hare he caught, the beautiful and weak rabbit he found ensnared in his game. If he feels like being mean, you’d be nothing but a toy to him, grounding his hips down, rutting roughly against you. It riles him when you start crying, pretty tears rolling down your cheek when he’s being so mean to you, using you until you feel overstimulated, cunt wet and swollen, overflowing with cum. Your sweet, sweet wails and pleads for him to stop, to let you rest, anything that made your face flush, back arch and voice crack turned him on.
If not; if you wanted something soft, gentler from him, he’d be the guiding hand with praises and encouraging words. He was soft, gentle and caring even as a dominant figure, asking you if you wanted this, asking you to tell him what you wanted and if you wanted it, waiting for any stutter and hesitation in your voice to stop whatever he was doing to care for you, shushing your anxiety away with coos and grounding pets.
Evan likes holding you when he’s being soft, getting every moment he can to touch you and be as close as he can be with you. He’d fuck you slowly, moving his hips at a slow and gentle pace, chest touching your back while he pushed in, hands holding you flush against him with your fingers locked together. It was like a slow dance with your hips bucking back and him snapping forward, driving in with purposeful and calculated thrusts to drive you insane with pleasure. He’s very touchy during and after it, determined to keep a part of himself stuck to you, be it his hand, his chapped lips, or his scarred cheek, he liked being able to hold you close, cuddling you after a night of frivolous affairs.
Aftercare is also an integral part of him, whether or not he was hard or soft with you, you deserved aftercare on any occasion. Evan’s a caring and protecting lover, his broad figure acting as a deterrent for any other killer, keeping you from harm’s way and safe by his side, his vulnerable and dependent survivor, one to call his own. He’d lay you down, admiring your panting form, eyes closed and mouth swollen, your hands blindly searching for him when he left to get a towel. He’s careful when he wipes you down, cleaning off the sweat and cum on your body so that you wouldn’t wake up groggy and uncomfortable the next day.
There’s more to him than a mindless and apathetic killer whose mind fractured and craved for blood to do more than just feed The Entity’s abyssal stomach, Evan MacMilan might be rich, he might’ve been the perfect son of a wealthy family built on blood, pride and greed, but to him, you are more than an object of his affection and obsession, you were his heart. In your smaller hands, beating and undying, was his heart, pulsing strongly with how much love he held for you. You could be the richest, the poorest, the sickest or the healthiest person in the world, but to him, nothing mattered more than being with you.
Evan’s had a hard life, expectations, responsibility and maturing too young, he craved something simple much like the choice of his tools, simple and old bear traps, cheaper and more efficient than any gun he could've bought with his father’s fortune. He craves a simple life with simple means, away from the gruelling yet familiar way of his childhood, perhaps you were the start of it, stemming from the darkness of her realm.
#x reader#dbd trapper#the trapper#dead by deadlight#the trapper x reader#trapper x reader#evan macmillan#evan MacMilan x reader#Evan MacMilan smut#Trapper smut#DBD smut#dbd x female reader#dbd x reader smut#dbd killer#dbd x reader#dbd x you#x fem!reader#female!reader#fem!reader#Dbd trapper x reader
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Master ; Eddie Munson x Reader
summary: [PART ONE HERE!] It's been a few days since Eddie Munson and reader had their little hookup in the back of his van, and she's jonesing for more. After a D&D campaign, Eddie invites her back to his trailer.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.8K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), light bondage, no use of y/n, fucking to music (because he would), eating out, p in v, slight cockwarming at the end.
a/n: i am so overwhelmed by the response to my first eddie fic!!! you guys are CRAZY! thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. i hope this part lives up to the last part! ps: i've never played d&d, so just ignore how bland that section is. thanks. ps #2: the album that eddie puts on is Ride the Lightning, so if you wanna' listen to that while you read.... please do. not beta-read, yada yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!
full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
For the most part, everything had returned to normal with the very welcomed exceptions of a few heated glances, some knowing smiles, and the occasional touch when he passed by you. All of which had you reeling, viciously fanning the embers of your desire for him. Many times throughout the week, you’d considered approaching him for one reason or another, but you were holding out for reasons unbeknownst to you.
In other news, Jason had requested a new lab partner - or tried - but Mrs. Cowan didn’t bother entertaining his request, much to your dismay. So the last period was spent with him, trying to remain cordial, but silently cursing everything he did.
That morning, you’d woken up with a fiery craving for Eddie. It couldn’t be sated by merely thinking of him, or watching him from afar. You need to feel him again. Out front of Hawkins High, you bend down to retrieve your backpack, nestling your patterned Trapper Keeper in the crook of your arm.
And as if on cue…
“I’m your turbo lover! Better run for cover!”
You freeze and straighten up, a chill shuddering up your spine. There’s no way someone is just playing that song. Your thighs press together tightly, as if doing so is inhibiting anything. You spin around, searching for the source of the music. And boy, do you find it. Eddie’s van screeches around the corner, just in front of you.
You watch as Eddie then pulls into a parking spot, his arm hanging out the window of the van. He lifts it, giving you a casual wave, even though that gesture is anything but casual. For a moment, you’re almost mad. He’s all but ruined that song for you, because now all you can think about is him fingerbanging you in the back of his van. You let out a frustrated huff as the music dies off and the door creaks open.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as he passes, his voice dripping with nonchalance. Your mouth gapes open, appalled that he didn’t tackle you in kisses right then and there. You watch, wordlessly, as he takes the steps two at a time and march after him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He wasn’t getting away from you that quickly. Thankfully, this semester, you had two classes with him; English in the morning and History after lunch. The little game he was playing was vicious and mean, and you hated it.
“Eddie, wait!” You call, trotting down the hallways. He slows his pace and gradually turns, a sly expression on his face.
“Yeees?”
“What are you doing?”
“Uh.. y’know… just going to class.” He answers coolly, nodding his head towards Miss Tipton’s door. You steal a glance at his body; he’s wearing a Metallica shirt with his go-to black jeans, and he’s got a black backpack slung over his right shoulder. His hand is clamped around the handle of that lunchbox he always carries, his rings clanking together as he adjusts his grip. You remember what those rings felt like, entangled in your own fingers. At the lewd thought, you have to withhold a sigh. He’s so… you dig your nails into the plastic of your binder, growling slightly.
“You can’t just…” You stutter, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “I’m going crazy over here.”
“Yeah? So what do you want me to do about it?” Suddenly walking you backwards, he urges you against someone’s locker, his belt buckle pressing hard into your stomach. Your breath comes out in a rush. “You want me to do it right here?”
He brushes the backs of his fingers along your jawline, teasingly. Your eyes drift behind him, watching people’s eyes flit to you and widen as they pass. A few people snigger and make some comments, likely disparaging in nature. Of course, they must be thinking, who would want to be that close to the Freak of Hawkins? You groan inwardly and lean your head back against the slotted metal.
“No… we can’t.”
“Then you’re gonna’ have to be patient, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His voice is husky and low, his breaths washing over your face. You frown slightly, but nod. You’d gotten something… the warmed, lingering sensation of his hips pressed against yours was enough to get you through the rest of the day, at least. He backs off, smirking, and reaches for the door, pulling it open. With eyebrows raised, he holds the door for you, letting you duck underneath his arm.
Once in the classroom, you pick a seat and settle in. After a few moments, Miss Tipton turns to the chalkboard to write something and in doing so, turns her back away from the class. A few seconds later, something hits your shoulder, bouncing off of it. You look down at your feet and spot a folded up piece of notebook paper. Making sure that the teacher is still occupied, you bend down and scrape your fingers against the floor, scooping it into your grasp. You quickly unfold it, your eyes scanning over the scrawled letters.
Today after last period. Meet me in the theatre.
EDDIE
PS: I miss the way you taste.
Your stomach tightens. Tucking your face into your shoulder, you sneakily peer back behind you. To your right, a few seats down, Eddie meets your gaze and feigns innocence, widening his eyes at you before casually scratching the side of his face with a capped pen. You withhold a smile and turn back around, tucking the note into your binder. Class continues without a hitch. In fact, it goes by surprisingly quickly.
After class, you hurry to the payphone outside, dial home and bring the receiver to your ear. It rings twice before you hear your mother’s voice.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Honey, is everything okay?” You can hear the worry in her voice.
You smile, leaning against the nearby brick wall. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I’m going to be home later today. I’m uh… thinking about joining a club.”
“A club? At school? Honey, that’s great. Just be careful, okay?”
You straighten up, hunching over the payphone again. “I will, I promise. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye-bye.”
Every class speeds by, having been spent fantasizing. You’re in deep, too deep maybe. Short of drawing hearts around his name, you’ve allowed yourself to become completely wound around his guitar-calloused fingers, you’ve imagined every scenario possible and succeeded in riling yourself up throughout the day. Prepwork, you’d call it.
So, later that afternoon, when you make it to the theatre, quietly opening one of the double doors, you’re almost disappointed that it’s a room full of boys. Sure, Eddie’s there, sitting at the head of the table, but it’s a room full of boys all the same. Foolishly, Hellfire Club wasn’t a frontrunner in your thoughts, you hadn’t even considered it or the fact that he had invited you to one of the sessions, and you’d agreed. You grimace and take a few steps forward, bringing yourself out of the shadows.
“Ah, she arrives.” Eddie’s voice booms, echoing in the acoustics of the theatre. He’s oozing confidence, and you bite your lip, silently talking your own arousal down.
“Hey guys,” you say, trying to mask your nerves with a casual wave. “Eddie invited me.”
“Indeed I did.” He’s perched on an ornately carved chair, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together. Eddie then jumps over the arm of the chair and bends down, retrieving something from his backpack. Casually, but almost theatrically, he strolls over. Once he’s in front of you, he reaches for your hand, pulling it up and carefully lays the item in your hands, his fingertips grazing the edge of your palm. It’s a Hellfire Club shirt, just like the one he wears. A smirk crawls across your lips; you were now technically in possession of two of his shirts.
After changing behind the heavy velvet curtains, you get situated in one of the empty seats, and Eddie explains the campaign, setting the scene with all of his elaborate, fantastic descriptions. This guy was a natural born storyteller, and you could tell he had a passion for this silly little game. Too quickly, it came to be your turn. You had no idea what you were doing, and you realize that you haven’t been paying attention at all. Your attention was… elsewhere the entire time. Panic grips your throat as everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for your roll.
“Uhhh,” You look apprehensively at the dice in your palm. Unlike regular dice, they have way too many sides and you don’t know what you need to achieve. Eddie assured you that you’d get the hang of it, but so far… you haven’t. “I have no idea but roll a one-hundred to charm the DM?”
“One-hundre— WHAT! That doesn’t even make sense. She’s not even playing!” The kid with the curly hair – Dusty? Dustin? – sounded frustrated. He took this very seriously. They’d all briefly introduced themselves as you’d sat down, but your attention had been on and still was on Eddie the entire time, so you hardly retained any of their names. You are enchanted with his energy tonight; the way he masterfully navigates the campaign, engaging with each of the rolls and weaving an intricate story that none of the other players can predict, but adore all the same.
You two make eye contact. Eddie withholds a smile. You can see it — the middle of his plush lips start to spread across his teeth but he reels it back in. It takes an immense amount of self control, but you don’t make finger guns at him. Instead, you toss the dice back onto the table, not bothering to watch what you’d rolled. With a groan, you lean back in the chair, which creaks in protest. “Fine,” you lamented, lacing your fingers behind your head. “I’ll just watch. I don’t understand this anyway.”
“Lady Terowyn,” he starts, saying the name that he’d given you at the start. He holds your gaze strongly, leaning forward in his chair and gripping the sides of the table, his rings clanking against the wood. “You seem to have acquired a ferocious malady. You can roll again in hopes that Blossom Tealeaf will assist you with a cure…”
“Who was Blossom Tealeaf again?” You ask, almost exasperated and look around at the other players. Dustin rolls his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I’ll accept this… illness and just watch this time.”
“Alright, then. Lady Terowyn succumbs to the vicious curse and perishes. What shall you do?”
The boys fall into a heated discussion and Eddie’s eyes find yours again. Without saying anything, he’s saying a lot. He’s smiling like he did before he kissed you, and the thought drives you insane. You have half a mind to climb across the table and go sit in his lap, sweeping your hips back and forth until his cock hardens underneath you, but you wouldn’t dare interrupt his campaign; it means too much to him and the others.
So, you sat. You sat, commenting, cheering the boys on when they figured something out, and gasped when their fearless dungeon master bested them yet again. Eventually, they warmed up to you, the coldness gone from their responses, even going so far as to involve you in some of the discussions. This went on for a few hours, until finally, they lost against the merciless beast that they’d been fighting. After the group dispersed outside, Eddie towed you to his van, promising he’d take you home.
He pulls you into a kiss, his tongue dancing along your lower lip and slipping inside to wrestle with yours. You moan into his mouth, and slide your hands into the warmth inside his leather jacket. Never breaking the kiss, he gently pushes you against the side of his van, the metal cool behind your back. One of his hands moves to your leg, hitching it up around his waist to bring you even closer to him. He bucks his hips into you once, and your breath hitches.
“It really is fun,” he starts, brushing his lips against your neck, trailing delicate kisses down the length of it. “Y’know… if you’d actually try playing it.”
You whine, tilting your head to the side and allowing more space for him to kiss. “Listen, I was distracted, okay?”
“Oh, by what?”
“Like you don’t know.”
Eddie chuckles, a breathy sound just underneath your earlobe. His lips ghost down your neck, stopping at a place between it and your shoulder, and he sucks the skin into his mouth. You wince at the sudden pressure, but don’t protest. It’ll inevitably leave a mark, and it seems he knows it. Smiling at the reddened skin, he leans back to look at you, to gaze into your half-lidded eyes.
“You wanna’ go back to my place? Wayne’s outta’ town…”
You aren’t sure who Wayne is… but the implications of that hang heavy between you two. For a moment, you say nothing, letting your gaze drift back and forth between his eyes and his lips, but finally, you nod. Eddie grins and is dragging you around to the passenger side before you have a chance to change your mind. He throws open the door and circles his hand in front of it, beckoning you inside. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”
You can’t help but smile – the theatrics of his campaign are clearly still lingering. Once you’re in, Eddie shuts the door and hurries back around to the other side, retrieving his keys from his pocket. Tossing a confident smile your way, he stabs them into the ignition, turns them and the engine of the van roars to life.
The drive from the high school to the trailer park takes about ten minutes, but feels like twenty. Every time he pulls up on a stop sign, his hand drifts over to your thigh. He kneads it, his rings bumping together. Just when it starts to get good, just when his hand starts to drift up your skirt, he pulls it away, and accelerates.
Once you’re inside, Eddie flips on the lights and turns to you, expectantly. He knows what’s coming. He’s been riling you up the entire ride. The second the door is shut, your lips are on him, smearing hot, wet kisses all over his neck and jawline. Eddie’s laughing breathily, his hands roaming around your waist and ass. “So needy,” he says.
“I’ve been thinking about this since we….” Your voice trailed off, meeting his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Eddie keeps you there, holding your face tightly. He walks you backwards past the kitchen towards his bedroom until the back of your calves hit the mattress, and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands trail up your waist, winding around the front of your body. It’s warm to the touch, and Eddie smiles as his large hands cup your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god…”
You claw at his leather jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders. You can’t get enough of him, and want him naked on top of you immediately. Enough teasing, enough foreplay. You’re desperate for him.
“Someone’s grabby. We’ll fix that.” He pushes you lightly backwards onto the bed, your ass bouncing against the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest.
He reaches around, pulling the black bandana from his back pocket, and shakes it out from its folded state. The heat that blossoms between your thighs is only worsening, becoming unbearable. One knee pressed into the bed, his body tilted slightly forward towards you. “Hands together, m’lady.”
At first, you stare, dumbfounded, up at him. He was… so cute. The dim, yellow lighting of the table lamp behind him creates a halo around his fluffy hair, akin to a renaissance painting. Some artist had to have painted an angel from this point of view… but there was nothing angelic about what was taking place. Nothing, because you were about to —
“Hello?” You blink once, twice. Had he been speaking the entire time? He quirks a brow, very obviously waiting for your response. His warm, chocolatey eyes hold yours in a death grip as he wraps the bandana around your wrists, tying it tightly in a knot. He hadn’t told you to look at him, at least not verbally. Deep down, you knew that you couldn’t look away if you tried. He knew that too. “Hands to yourself until I say so.”
“Yes, master.” He freezes, with his fingers still on the buckle of his belt and raises his head back up to look at you.
You try to speak, to undo what you’ve said, but only squeaks and a nervous string of ‘Uhhh’s come out. You drop your bound wrists into your lap with a dramatic huff, and roll your head back, staring embarrassed at the ceiling of his trailer. Truthfully, you hadn’t even known where that came from; you’d never called anyone ‘master’ in your entire life, and even mocked the concept. Master and Servant was a Depeche Mode song, not something you practiced in the bedroom.
“I don’t knoow — dungeon master? I don’t know where that came from, I’m — Eddie, please — PLEASE!” Your head snapped back up.
“Hey,” He cooed, brushing your bangs from your eyes. “It’s okay. I liked that. I just couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”
Eddie brings his face close to yours, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks. “Lay back for me, sweetheart.”
You do, bound hands resting on your stomach. Eddie shrugs out of his jacket, and pulls his shirt up from behind his back, tossing it onto the floor to join the rest of the clothes. You haven’t seen him shirtless before; the visual has your cunt clenching as your eyes dance over his tattoos, memorizing them.
You watch him with hearts in your eyes as he strolls half-naked over to his stereo, pops in a tape, shuts the door and hits play; the heavy sound of Metallica fills the small room. You smirk. He would. As the song builds, Eddie returns to the edge of the bed, creeping closer, walking his hands on the mattress until he’s close enough to press a kiss to each of your kneecaps. Just like before, he unzips your skirt and peels down your tights, taking his time with the action. Your breath catches in your chest when you feel his calloused fingers ghosting along the outside of your thighs, sweeping along the flesh as it prickles with goosebumps. It’s not cold by any means, but the sensation of his fingers has your skin reacting.
“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes…” he says, admiring the way you look, pantsless but still wearing the Hellfire Club shirt. “God damn… you should be on the cover of an album or something.” He tilts his head, staring for a moment longer before he’s pulling the shirt over your head, and yanking your panties over the wide curve of your hips.
The rest of your clothes join his on the floor of his bedroom, and you’re naked, lying on his stained sheets, writhing in anticipation. Eddie pulls your thighs apart carefully but forcefully, like he’s opening the jaws of a lion. He slots himself underneath your legs, hoisting your thighs onto the curve of his shoulders. As soon as you realize what’s about to transpire, he feels the sudden tension in your body and slides his hands up your waist tenderly.
“Just relax. I know what I’m doing.” His voice is commanding and heavy with desire.
Your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip; you feel your cunt clench at his lusty tone. You can feel your face flush with heat. Something about him makes you trust him, turn to putty in his grip – in fact, you’ve never trusted a man more in your life. You nod, inhaling a deep breath as he presses a kiss to your cunt. Some of your pathetic, shuddering whines are lost in the heavy guitar and drums of Metallica, which you’re grateful for. The feeling of his lips against her makes your whole body jerk violently, and Eddie’s hands are suddenly pressing down on your hips, holding them tight to the mattress.
“Easy, baby…”
You clench your jaws and shut your eyes, trying to slow your breathing, but that does little to pacify the feelings and how deeply he’s turning you on. His lips hover, his breath washing over her in small, warm gusts before he kisses her again, nuzzling his nose against the soft mound before his tongue slips in between the folds, flicking upwards. Still tied together, all you can do is lift your hands and wad them into tight fists. You could reach forward and push his head further into you, but he’d specifically ordered no touching. You whimper and writhe against the mattress, to which Eddie softly shakes his head against your cunt, muttering a ‘Mm-mm’, and again grips your hips tightly again, holding them in place.
“You like that?”
He swallows hard, before his tongue juts out again, toying with your clit, mercilessly flicking it back and forth and up and down. He encircles the swollen bundle of nerves and hums into your cunt, pleased at the visceral reaction from your body. Even over the music, you can hear the slick, suckling and slurping sounds he’s making, and above all, how wet you are, which is slightly mortifying, considering he’s only just started. Your juices leak onto his mattress, leaving yet another stain on his sheets.
“Words, sweetheart…” He pauses to say. One hand drifts between his legs, where he palms himself over his dark jeans. Eating you out has his cock achingly hard, and he wants nothing more than to sink it into you.
Words? You don’t even know what those are. You can barely form a single word, let alone an entire sentence as his tongue laps at you again, flattening out against your sensitive flesh. It takes you a few tries, but you finally manage to squeak out: “Huhhh- mmm-yeah. Gonna’... gonna’...”
Eddie pulls back slightly, pressing a single slick kiss against your inner thigh. “Yeah? So soon?”
You whimper, nodding. “Mmmh…. So…. so good…”
Bringing his hands underneath your ass, Eddie hoists your hips up, giving him a better angle to suck on your puffy clit. That does it – you’re unable to stop the floodgates. You cry out, bringing your bound hands to your face and pressing the balls of your palms against your mouth, pinching your bottom lip between them. Eddie swallows down your orgasm, bringing the tip of his tongue to your entrance as it squeezes.
As Eddie stands up and wipes the slick from his chin, the song changes, a single reverberating bell rings throughout the room. It brings a smirk to his lips. “For whom the bell tolls…” He says, running a single finger along the length of your quivering thigh. “The bell tolls for you, sweetheart.”
Completely spent, you lift your head weakly, brows peaked together in question. “Wh…what…”
Eddie palms himself again, stroking the swollen shaft through the fabric. His gaze is heavy, sweeping over your naked body as your chest heaves with laboured breaths. His long fingers move quickly, working to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. The jeans fall loose at his hips, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of a lewd outline and a spot where the blue plaid fabric has darkened with pre-cum. He kicks them off and steps out of the circle, smiling at you.
“Nothin’, baby. C’mere.”
Eddie gets onto the bed with one knee first, and walks his way over to you. You turn your head to look at him and heave a shaky sigh as he reaches underneath your torso, twisting you so you’re laying rightways on the bed, your head on a pillow.
“You ready?”
“R-ready for what?” You breathe.
“To have your world rocked, sweetheart.”
“Again?” You coo, looking up at him with big, dreamy eyes.
Eddie hooks his finger around the bandana and twists it around his index finger, tightening the fabric around your wrists. He yanks your hands up over your head, pressing them against the wall above. With his other hand still free, he pulls the waistband of his boxers down over the curve of his ass, allowing his heavy cock free. It slaps against his tummy, bobbing dangerously in front of your core. It occurs to you then how turned on he is over eating your pussy… his cock is leaking and twitching in front of you, begging for release.
Fuck.
At first, Eddie leans down, pressing his cock against your tummy as he kisses you. The kisses are sweet, tender, but passionate with a lingering hint of animalistic demand. He’s being gentle now, but you can feel the unbridled want behind his actions.
“Do it,” you say. “Fuck me.”
Eddie runs his tongue along his bottom lip and grins, taking hold of his cock with his free hand and giving it a few long strokes. A bead of precum oozes from the tip, stringing down to your stomach. He lines the tip up, and a warning pressure builds at your waiting entrance. You clench around the velvet soft head, and Eddie lets out a deep groan.
“Holy shit…” he says.
He tries to be gentle, but as soon as the tip breaches your slick hole and he feels how wet, how warm you are, he can’t help but sink every inch deep into you. He bucks his hips once, forcing his cock deep inside, and halts, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feeling of fullness. You gasp and tighten around him again, pulling a throaty sound from him.
He begins rocking his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding wetly out of you. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to find a mind-shattering rhythm that has you gasping and clawing the wall above you. He holds onto your bound wrists still, pinning them tightly against the wall. The power in his thrusts come from his core, bucking relentlessly up into you.
You lift your legs slightly, scooting up and pressing the roundness of your ass against his torso. As he thrusts, his palm presses low into your stomach, rings denting the flesh.
Over the drums and guitar, the slick, hollow slop slop of his cock hammering into you fills the room, and your vision goes blurry as your lids drift shut.
“F-fuck, Eddie… fuck!”
His wanton, concentrating gaze drifts between your legs, watching as he impales you over and over again. You moan loud, much louder than James Hetfield was singing. Eddie shudders and groans, making a deep, almost pained sound.
“You’re gonna kill me, you know that? Those moans are gonna’... Jesus Christ.”
You smile devilishly and meet his thrusts, rutting your hips against his. You see him clench his jaw, the muscles fluttering on the side of his face. The feelings are tantalizing him, and each jerk of his hips brings him closer to an orgasm.
“Jesus Christ,” he repeats, looking down at your sweat-glistened body, watching as your breasts rock back and forth with each movement of his hips. You strain against his grip, wanting so desperately to touch him.
“Master,” you whimper. “Let me touch your body… please….”
The singular word makes his cock twitch inside you. His other hand joins the right, and quickly undoes the knot of his bandana, tossing it behind him. Your greedy fingers immediately snap to his torso, clawing their way up his toned abdomen. Your digits trail over his tattoos, tracing them absentmindedly as Eddie keeps fucking into you, his jaw hanging slack, expression completely blissed out.
“Harder, Eddie,” you moan, pressing your head back into the pillow.
He obeys. Happily. He takes hold of your thighs, pressing them back against your body, exposing more of your cunt to him. His cock leaves you for a moment before he’s slamming back into you, heated and heavily.
It doesn’t take him long to reach a climax at this angle, or for you to reach your second one. You scream out, clawing at his abs as you clench around his dick, squeezing it in a vice-tight grip.
“Shit-shit-shit—” Eddie curses, looking down at your pussy. You feel the swelling throb of Eddie’s cock inside you as he paints you insides white. Your own orgasm has you shuddering against him, crying out his name.
Eddie collapses atop of you, his cock still inside, and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.
“That was…”
“Yeah,” you echo. “Yeah. It was.”
After a few minutes, you turn your head, and press a single kiss against his plump lips. “Soooo, can I sit at your table now? I’m tired of sitting at Jason’s preppy table.”
“Absolutely.”
#praying that this lives up to the first part lmao#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut#myfics
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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?
Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones
Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader
Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as story progresses
Word count: 1.4k
This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)
The battlefield roars around her as she lets out a feral laugh. The scent of blood bathes her skin as enemies around her burst at their seams as if allergic to their own viscera. Her power curls around her in dark tendrils, shadowy mist traveling from her feet and from it monstrosities spawn. From her being they are born, from her existence cursed energy sprawls damning the world. Humans and socerers alike flood to exterminate her like the blight she is, but their hatred and fear only makes her stronger. Their infected emotions only allow her entry into their minds, allow her new hosts for her children. With each minute, more and more of them succumb to the sickness and from their corpses new curses rise and fight. She is the unending threat, the undying plague, the Mother of Curses.
This was her life for an uncountable number of millenia for her existence started with the creation of light, for light could not exist with darkness. A life full of death, misery, and sadistic pleasure. That was until, she fell in love with a human. Not in a romantic sense, but in a maternal sense. It happened after a particularly interesting battle with a man donning white hair and crystal blue eyes. His technique and mastery over cursed energy was a sight she never expected. It left her more wounded than she had ever been. Of course, she wouldn’t die from it, but it still hurt like hell. So she found herself stumbling across the snowy expanse and upon a run down hut. It was warm and smelled of a hearty soup begging to calm her ailments. She approached the hut with little trepidation and swung the door open ready to evict whoever was inside, but she didn’t see anyone. She stepped further in and looked around but the place was empty. A trap perhaps? She thought. But where is the trapper? Is the food meant to lure victims in only to poison them? She again stepped further into the abode, further towards the food, but she sensed a presence. It seemed to lurch from nowhere straight towards her. She turned quicker than the being could register and grabbed them by the collar of their shirt and held them up.
“Let me go you you thieving piece of shit before I strangle you with your own damn innards, add you to the fucking stew, and drink it through your hollowed out eye sockets!”
….before you what? The mother of curses had never heard such a threat to her. Never heard something as unhinged and quite frankly gross as that, especially from what seemed to be a child. Yes, a child it was, one with white hair and eyes to match.
”What are you fucking deaf? Unhand me and get the fuck out!”
The Mother of Curses started laughing as she moved her hand to grab the child by the jaw, her shadows unarming the girl of the knife she thrashed throughout the air. Defiance sat on the child's face as she spat right on the Mother. Ohhh you are so fucking close to dying. You think being made into stew is bad? Just you fucking wait. I will show you the true reaches of pain. Up came the Mother’s free hand to wipe the spit off of her face before using the girl’s hair to dry it off. Then went her finger into the girl’s skull. A strangled scream ripped from her and she writhed in plea of escape.
Within her mind was vile. Her memories were dark scapes filled with throat wrenching smells and unknown touches. Her fear of being touched without being able to see stained each and every rotten corner of her mind. But as the Mother dug deeper, she could make out silhouettes, each with a different feeling. The child had learned to feel people’s energy and had used that to navigate.
That must be how she sensed me coming. And knowing she can sense other’s energies means that she can probably sense her own. Which would explain why I didn’t sense her at first because she has most likely learned to mute her presence altogether. Cheeky little assassin, yeah?
In her memories the Mother feels and smells a very familiar substance—blood. She pulls herself towards the memory drenched in it. A memory of the girl’s first kill. It starts with screams and sobs overpowered by hungry laughs and hands. It wasn’t the first time the girl had been in this predicament, but this time is what changed her. Something in her snapped and all of the beauty made by the Mother herself started pouring into the girl. Strength she hadn’t known before surged through her body and before she knew it her hands were slicing through people like butter. Now it was her hungry laugh drowning out their screams and sobs. Some pleaded which only earned them an audience with her teeth as a wicked smile pulled back her lips to introduce them. Into flesh they sank, blood pouring down her face and throat and dousing the room as she ripped back. A feral beast finally liberated from its cage.
The Mother had originally intended to pump her with cursed energy until she popped, but another idea came into her head. She decided to add onto the cursed energy the girl already possessed but not to kill her. To enhance her. To make her a spawn of the Mother of curses in human form. Her proven survival instinct and bloodlust were promising aspects for a spawn and her cooking smelled decent enough that she could at least cook for her if nothing else. The girl’s writhing calmed down as she felt the power flowing into her. Everything felt as if it was exploding inside her as her very makeup was being altered. Her bones grew denser, her blood grew richer, her muscles grew stronger, her hair grew darker until only a section of the light remained, and within her eyes bloomed irises of blood.
The Mother withdrew her finger and released the girl to collapse on the floor as she headed towards a pile of blankets in the corner. Her state haggard after parting with energy after being in such a state already. The girl sat there on her knees looking at her hands.
”You are going to overcook the soup. Hurry and serve it already,” she said whilst stretching out her legs under the small covers.
The girl looked back towards her, finally seeing the mask that hid the bone chilling aura she felt. She stared for a long minute before getting up and pouring the woman a bowl of her soup. She continued to stare at many things as she ate, things she had never seen before. It was beautiful. She would have cried if her intruder was not still present.
From that day on, the Mother stayed in that little run down abode with the girl. Teaching her how to use her new body, showing her the secrets to her ever growing powers. It was something the Mother never saw herself doing, but an experiment that had her shaking with anticipation. She had started to consider what it would be like to withdraw to her domain and leave her spawn behind to rule. She wanted to see the chaos that would ensue without her, wanted to see what curses would be born from a human with her powers. Someone with a different mind, someone hardwired differently. She knew her curses would always be stronger, but would hers be more adaptable? The Mother knew nature would create stronger sorcerers like that white haired prick, so she knew curses would need to evolve as well. They needed to possess intelligence as well as strength, needed to be able to amass followings behind them.
For this to happen, the Mother kicked the girl out of her own house 10 years after their meeting and out into the world on her 18th birthday. Most children would have screamed and cried, but she was excited. She knew from the past how to get by and figured if she could do it blind and basically powerless, that it would be exponentially easier now. She bowed to her Mother as they laid their hands on her.
“Show me you are worthy of my blessings. Make the heaven’s weep at your monstrosities and the realm beg for your pardon. Make me proud or take this dagger and bury it in your heart,” the Mother said with her usual smile as she unveiled her final present to the girl. The girl looked at the gift in awe as she took it into her hands.
“Don’t worry Mother, I will make you prouder than you can ever imagine.”
Notes: ahh hehe my writing is so rusty but I am really excited to write this idea. Updates should be (relatively?) frequent and I am determined to finish it lol. The following chapters will be told in first-person with (Y/N) tags. Canon in this story is that the reader has mostly black hair with only a small white section left and their irises are blood red. Going forward though I will use (h/c) and (e/c) so that it can suite whatever you want for your reading purposes. I hope you all have a wonderful day, see you in the next one muahhh~
#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna angst#sukuna true form#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryoumen x reader#jjk smut#jjk sukuna#jjk fluff#jjk angst#sukuna fic#sukuna fic recs#anime#sukuna x sorcerer!reader#sukuna x curse user!reader
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The Hunted becomes the Hunter
𖤐Pairing: Vampire Hunter! Alex x Vampire! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: smut, angst, language, mention of blood, fighting, gore, and self-harming, reader has power of illusions, female masturbation, blowjob, P in V, manhandling, groping, nipple play, aggressive behavior, kind of toxic,
𖤐Summary: Alex was called in to help stop a Vampire from killing off people livestock, he sets up traps and everything to try and catch the beast, but he stumbles upon an abandoned castle and finds himself stuck with a vampire
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“How many dead?”
“My whole livestock, Alex. I came out ready to feed them and I notice blood thinking maybe one of them probably got stuck in the barb wire but when I came around they’re all dead in the barn.” Farmer Dan shows Alex all of his livestock stacked on top of each other dead, blood drained from all of them.
“What the hell?”
“It’s getting worse Alex, Joni down the road lost all her hens and roosters, Mark a few houses down from her lost all his cows, you need to catch whatever this thing is.”
“It can’t be working alone, there has to be more. But I’ll see what I can do, do you anyone who might still have their livestock? That’ll probably be its next target.”
“Umm~ Jacob up the road, you might have passed him, he’s still got everything, go check with him.”
Alex loaded back into his truck and heads back down the road to see Farmer Jacob. Farmer's for the passed month have been losing their livestock left and right, and it's been getting worse, normally they would have lost 2 or 3 animals, but now it's a whole herd of animals.
To the people they thought Alex was a trapper they didn't question his methods or anything, he has caught a few beasts in his past but Alex is a Vampire hunter, it runs in his family, and after seeing the drained animals in Dan's barn. he knew he had a vampire on his hands.
The question is, how the hell is he going to trap possibly more than one vampire?
"Alex?"
"Jacob, I just came from Dan's farm, have you lost any animals last night?"
"Nope, none, I just came out to feed them and they all seem fine, why, what's going on?"
"Dan has lost all of his livestock, I have suspicions your farm might be next. Could I set up a trap here?"
"Sure, anything to stop whatever it is killing livestock."
"Thanks."
Alex has spent all day working on the trap making sure it was good and also making sure it was animal proof, he didn't want animals getting tangled up in his trap.
"There."
"And this will work?" Jacob asks.
"Hopefully."
"And if it doesn't?"
"You have every right to sue me or kill me," Alex says.
Alex hops back into his truck and notices the large woods behind Jacob's farm.
"Hey, Jacob, could I set up kind of a base in your woods?"
"Sure, by all means," he says as Alex followed a dirt path into the woods. He stops at the edge of the woods, getting out and finding a place he could pitch a tent and stay out there for the night, cause if he's right and it is a Vampire, he'll probably get to it first before the trap does.
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Night rolls around Alex sits by the campfire, gun at his side and he's been on edge since the sun went down and the moon came out. His mind was wondering when this vampire might show up.
"I need to take a leak," he says, placing his gun down and heading a bit deeper into the woods away from his camp. He finds a big oak and unzips his pants.
As he was mid stream he could hear the sounds of cracking branches, and leaves being crunched. He finishes up and looks around before making it straight to his camp.
He must have taken a wrong turn or something, because his camp wasn't out of his sight but when he turned his back, he couldn't see his camp and when he looks up into the sky, he couldn't see the smoke from his fire.
"Where in the hell am I?" He questions, he quickly placed his hand on his holster, empty. "Fuck," he left it at his camp. He placed his hand on the other side feeling a wooden steak, he pulls it out.
"I hope you know wooden steaks don't kill me? That's just some myth," he hears a voice say from the trees, he looks around but couldn't see anything.
"You're a coward, hiding in the trees so you won't face me."
"I'm not a coward hunter, but I would just like to let you know...you are now the hunted," as the voice was gone a murder of crows all launched themselves at Alex, he blocks his face and once the crowds were gone, he sees his campfire.
"An illusion?"
"ALEX!!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Alex curses as he runs out of the woods getting into his truck and heading to the farm. "Dammit, it fucking tricked me."
"All dead! YOUR TRAP DIDN'T WORK!!"
"I...I don't know what the hell happened? I was in the woods and then it was like an illusion or something?"
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"We're dealing with a vampire here."
"A vampire?" Jacob laughs at Alex. "No one...no one had dealt with vampires since the bubonic plague, they would be dead and oh they don't exist anymore?"
"They do exist, I promise they do."
"I'm hearing a bunch of bullshit, please get off my property-"
"Let me do one more thing."
"What?"
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Alex was at the woods again, whatever it was, he must have been close to it's domain. Alex had his gun on him and used a flashlight to guide his way to where he was.
"Come on, where was it?"
Alex looks for the tree which he soon did, touching it and looking around it, maybe he set off a trap of it's own which let it know who was near it's domain, but he couldn't find any wires or anything.
He walks a little farther into the woods, he looks around and didn't notice a sudden drop. Alex falls down rolling a few times before landing on his back on flat land.
"Motherfucker," Alex cusses holding his lower back and sitting up. "Fucking hell," he says as he slowly but surly gets up.
He clicks his flashlight, it wasn't working, he says a few more curses before stuffing his flashlight into his bag and walked blindly. He didn't know this part of the woods, it all looked the same to him. Where was this beast?
Alex bushed some bushes from his face and saw a big, tall castle, it looked abandoned or so he thought, he sees a few lights on in the castle.
"What the fuck is this?" He walks to the castle, the main door was cracked. He pushes it with making as little sound as possible. The lights in the main room flickered on and off, and he could hear humming for a room.
He tip-toes to the room, fire was lit in the fireplace, a chair sits in the room, he walks in drawing out his gun ready to fire at whatever it was in the chair.
"I figured you would find me sooner or later, hunter," a voice says from the chair and a loud caw from a crow. The crow swoops at Alex and lands on the chair facing him giving him one more caw.
"Face me."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I hope you like led between your eyes."
"Hmm~ what a threat, I've dealt with you humans long enough to know..." the figure stood up. "You will hesitate," the figure turns and faces Alex. She was gorgeous, piecing eyes, fangs on full display as her tongue grazed them.
"I will never hesitate when it comes to killing your kind."
"Wow, harsh," she sounded sarcastic but didn't care. "Then go on...do it...you have a clear shot, I'm not fighting back."
Alex points his gun in her face, he was hesitating, why the fuck was he hesitating.
"What a shame, my turn," she gives him a wicked smile and lunges at him, pushing him to the ground getting on top of him and her hands go around his neck as his try to go around hers.
"I haven't had human blood in ages, I usually stick to animals, they're getting boring, human blood is sweet, savory, and fucking delicious," Alex was starting to lose his breath, he tries to find his gun but it was out of his reach, so he digs around for his steak and soon got a hold of it, he brings it up and stabs her in the side.
She gets off of him, bleeding out, hot tears filled her eyes as she tries to pull it out of her side. Alex quickly stood up grabbing his gun and pointing it at her.
"Do it, hunter...FUCKING DO IT!!" She yells, the gun goes off but the bullet landed next to her into the wood flooring. "Who's the coward now?"
Alex doesn't say anything but glares at her, he may live by a life of code, but...something about her...intrigued him really. He bends down seeing the blood leak from her and immediately her wound was healed.
"I'm gonna go on a lime and say...you were turned...you weren't born like this..."
"Why the fuck does that matter?" She says.
"Because ones that were turned are still human inside...you only drink animal blood is because you actually hate human blood, all that bullshit you spat out was to make me afraid of you...but I'm not, I've dealt with vampires all my life to know who was born one and who was turned to one..."
"So what? You feel bad for me now?"
"I didn't say that-"
"But your actions say otherwise, you missed on purpose, you hesitated because you knew, so what? Just fucking kill me already. I've been waiting for the day someone did."
"You cause illusions because you want to be feared, but you fear yourself."
"Bullshit-"
"Is it?" Alex stood up and put his hand out for her to take. She swats it away.
"I don't need your help."
"That's fine, but when another hunter comes along, they won't be as nice to you," he says, walking out of the room.
"Wait," Alex smirks when she called for him. "Why are you doing this?"
"I'm bored, I guess. I live by a code, you are a vampire, I'm suppose to kill you, but there's something in you...that makes me feel bad for you."
"Great, a hunter taking pity on me, how nice," sarcasm again.
"So what if I am?" She stays quiet.
The vampire sat on the chair the crow swooping at Alex again.
"You live here alone?"
"And the skeletons in the basement..."
"Right," Alex walks to the fireplace and looks at the vampire, she looks at Alex. "could I help you?"
"With what?"
"You seem...lonely," he says.
"Because I am, my only friends are crows..."
----------
The vampire walks up the stairs Alex behind her, he was amazed by the castle, even though it was abandoned and lights could barely work, she's kept it pretty maintained.
"Tell me...when did you get turned?"
"When I was 14...I was a stupid little kid, played in the woods and didn't understand don't follow strangers, and I did. It was around 200 years ago, though."
"So how old are you?"
"214 years old...I think, I've lost count a few times, I could older, I don't know," she says as she pushes a door open. "I sleep here," it was like a normal bedroom.
No coffins, or anywhere she could hang upside down.
"I know what're thinking."
"Huh? You don't know-"
"You thought I slept in a coffin or hung upside down."
"Damn...maybe I was."
"Funny," she says, shutting the door. "You should be lucky I allowed you to stay."
"And you should be lucky I didn't stick a bullet between your eyes...I never caught your name?"
"It's Y/n...do you really think people won't know you're gone?"
"People don't know where I live, they call me when something is wrong, so no one will even notice," he says.
"This room hasn't been used in years, so make use of it."
"I'll try, Miss Vamp."
"Don't call me that."
-----------
Hours, weeks, months have gone by, Alex is still here at the castle with Y/n. She does everything in her power to avoid Alex, but sometimes she isn't lucky. It was already worse enough she's letting a vampire hunter stay with her.
Alex was outside chopping wood as Y/n looked at him through her bedroom window. She plops on the cushion looking at the shirtless Alex. Her thighs squeezed together like they had a mind of their own.
She started to feel wet, her fingers slide down her chest to be in between her thighs, she was being risky touching herself by the window where Alex could easily see her, all he had to do was look up and it was all over, but he didn't he was focused on the wood and piling them up.
Her breaths were shaky, as her fingers teased her wet folds, she moans as she keeps watching Alex. She hates the fact she's doing this, but he was...something else, a vampire hunter living with a vampire like it was nothing.
Like Alex wasn't ever told the vampires are dangerous and they all must be killed with no hesitation, he disappointed his ancestors, but they're dead, Alex doesn't care, it's time to start a new era.
She then gets off from the cushion and plops on her bed, her legs trembling like she was teasing herself and trying to hold back from touching herself. But she couldn't help it, she needed to do it.
She removes her shirt and pushes her skirt off her lower half, the cold air just touching her now. She sits up on her elbows and moves her fingers back between her folds, pushing them inside of her, moving them slowly at first. She moans and thinks about Alex and how her fingers were his, but they weren't the same.
She was getting frustrated with herself, moving them a faster now, but it was feeling the same.
KNOCK KNOCK
"Hey, I got the fire wood chopped," Alex says from the other side of the door, she groans and gets up from her bed.
She opens the door but used the door to also shield her bare body from him.
"Good, now leave me alone," she says.
"Hey," he puts his hand on the door. "The hell is wrong with you? You allow me to stay with you, but you avoid me, what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit, tell me."
"N-No," her fingers were back between her folds as he was talking to her, she was just trying to hide her moans now. "F-Fine, I'm fine," she says.
Alex takes a deep breath and pushes the door open now, he watches Y/n fall to her knees, completely bare before his eyes, he swallows a lump in his throat.
"W-What?" She stutters. "Never seen someone touch themselves before," she asks looking at him through her sweaty hair.
"I-I have."
"I'm just frustrated, I can't reach it."
"Want help?"
"Now," she demands, Alex walks to her, picking her up like nothing and setting her on her bed, he started to unbuckle his pants, Y/n helping him, once he pushes his pants down she could see his soft dick through his boxers. She looks up at him and starts kissing him through his boxers.
"Hey now."
"You're soft..." she says.
"I know that, I can get it hard myself," he chuckles, but she doesn't listen. He takes a hold of her hair and makes a makeshift ponytail using an old ponytail holder he found.
After a few more seconds, Alex's dick was standing and impatient Y/n pulled his boxers down, his dick sprung out making her kiss his tip, he moans throwing his head back.
"Fucking hell."
"Am I doing okay? It's been so long since I've done something like this."
"You're doing just fine," he says, placing his hand under her chin. "Keep going," he says.
Her hands wrap around his dick, deep throating him a few times, his tip hitting the back of her throat. She hums around his dick, the vibration from her throat made him want to cum faster.
She moves her mouth and opened her month pumping him a few times as cum leaks from his tip and squirt a few times landing on her face, she smirks and licks the rest from his tip.
She moves to be on the bed, she lays on her stomach and lifts her ass up in the air slightly shaking her ass, he smirks, and lines himself at her entrance and pushes himself inside of her.
"AHH~!" Y/n moans, Alex looks down at her, his hands on her waist, he starts moving a bit quicker, his tip just barely hitting her spot, she moans when he did it. She couldn't reach it herself, so now when he does it, she feels amazing.
"Fuck," she moans again, tossing her head back, Alex leans down, hand under her chin and he starts kissing her temple and kissed her lips.
"God, you feel so good," he moans when feeling her gummy walls clench around his cock.
"A-Alex," she moans out his name, sitting up and wants to kiss his lips again, he smirks leaning down and kissed her lips. His hands then move to her chest gently squeezing her and pinching at her sensitive nipples.
He then sits back up, hands on her hips and he then pulls her wrists behind her back, she sits up and Alex takes her legs pushing them to her chest. He was starting to just become a bit rough with her. She moans when his tip was just hitting her, just right.
She throws her head back, cupping his chin and getting him to kiss her some more. He sits on his knees using everything he has from falling face first. Alex kisses Y/n's neck as he feels her starting to clench around him, they both gave a few more moans before Y/n ended up coming first.
Alex smirks as he keeps going, he hasn't cum yet, he starts to become rough with her, pinning her back on her stomach, pounding even harder and faster into her.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! A-Alex!"
"What? I haven't come yet," he growls near her ear and bites her earlobe, she moans when she feels cum shoot up inside of her. She collapsed on the bed and Alex fell next to her.
---------
Y/n was in her bed, silk sheets covering her bare body, she stayed asleep as Alex was up next to her, his back against the headboard of the bed. His finger moved some hair from her face. He moves under the covers with her, placing his hand on her waist and kissing her forehead.
He was always taught to kill the enemy and the enemy was vampires, but now he just had sex and is sleeping with the vampire. He didn't care, it was like a switch went off in him when seeing Y/n look so peaceful when sleeping.
"Alex?"
"Sorry, if I woke you."
"It's okay...could just hold me," she asks.
"Sure, little vamp."
"No, not that nickname," she says, pushing off him.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, sure, I'll hold you darling."
"Better."
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#fandom#fanfic#call of duty#mw2#cod#alex keller x reader#alex keller cod#alex keller x you#alex keller x y/n
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Always an Angel, Never the God Pt 2
Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Runaway!Reader
Words: 3119
After a few months alone in the sky, you find yourself with an unlikely roommate.
Tags: Gender neutral/intended Female, Runaway Reader, Angst, Unrequited love, Requited love, Heartbreak, grief
<Previous - Full - Next>
You grind your teeth, eyes watering as a heavy booted foot pushes you down further into the wooden ship floor. The ship rocks angrily as does your dragon, struggling against the barbed netting.
“Who are you? A new vigilante?” The leading trapper, Erik son of Erik or something, asked, bending down above you. He had, coincidentally, been the one to shoot you down.
“Where is your… hideout?” He leaned down into your ear at your silence, speaking in a raspy whisper. You got the vague impression he was trying to be intimidating, though the end results were more in favor of making you blush.
You were thankful for the hard wood covering your face and, therefore, your embarrassment. Of your belongings, you were only able to manage a mask and had taken to running around ensconced in furs with nothing but a dagger to your name.
You’d recon you looked much like a wild animal, straddling your nadder bare of a saddle. You had not done too well on your own. It was hard. You had always been a team player if by team player you meant a leech on society. At least, you had been told so.
So of course you had, unwittingly, stumbled onto dragon trapping territory. Extreme sport dragon trapping territory. It didn’t help that you and your nadder hadn’t been on the same page, you two being unable to sync in the way you’d seen the other riders with their dragons, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.
He’d go left when you were trying for right, and when you finally decided to just go with it, he would change his mind and throw you for a complete loop. It was safe to say that even if you got out of this mess you never wanted to step foot on his back again.
You breathed a silent sigh of relief just as the trapper let out an annoyed one, stepping off of you in favor of yelling at his men for damaging their goods. Meaning, your nadder. Was he really yours, though? He did try and make a break for it without you.
While debating whether or not you should try at the ropes shackling your arms together, you grunt frustratedly, noticing a new tear in your garb.
After running away and getting captured, you had not expected to be kidnapped again by some insane-looking madman in a mask. Though you did look like two of a kind, so it was fitting.
Your nadder had its wings torn irreparably, so, unfortunately, you had to retire him early.
You found small comfort in that it hadn’t abandoned you on the ship that one final time, though the irony that it had led you here was not lost on you.
He visited sometimes. He took to life in the sanctuary very well.
You didn’t, a borderline prisoner before you’d been able to win over the trust of the resident feral gorgon. Sort of. She was a woman who let you see her face, more on accident than anything else. You hadn’t let her see you or hear yours. However you weren’t inclined to speak of her nicely, least of all in your head, after the number of weeks you spent trapped in a cave at her behest.
Finally, you’d been let out. Let out enough to walk more than just the short stretch of stone and greenish ice that made up your prison. The endless turquoise was beginning to make you sick.
Recently, you found a real friend in the sanctuary, and this dragon, it was truly yours. Affectionately named, fed and groomed, you two were almost inseparable. It was the kind of friendship with a dragon you’d completely missed out on on Berk.
It was hard to maintain given your captive status, but that was alright.
There probably wasn’t any social profit involved in being a vigilante, which is why you assumed the crazy dragon lady had taken to speaking at you in her spare time. About the dragons, what they ate, what she had to do. Pointedly she gave away nothing of their true secrets, not that you wanted them, nor anything of her vigilant-ing. Not verbally, though the influx of injuries both on her and the dragons spoke volumes.
She did give away her name.
You groan, rubbing your eyes under your mask as you cradle the thing to your face with the other.
“You’re quite attached to your mask,” Valka said amusedly, shifting the logs roasting in the fire with a stick, pushing them back and forth as you sat in silence. You hardly ever spoke a word, nowadays.
Her dragon, the stormcutter, stared at you with large eyes through the licking flames.
Neither of you mentioned that the only real reason you’d been able to keep your mask so long was that she’d been kind enough to let you. An allowance you’d been given on a whim. One you clung to with all the nervous energy of Fishlegs to his dragon cards.
“... I’d rather not be,” You grumble, voice raspy from disuse, “It’s stuffy.”
“Oh,” Valka looked at you, amused and maybe a little surprised to hear you speak at last, before going back to tend to her fires, “I was starting to think you couldn’t speak.”
“Funny.” You said, lifting a sharpened stick off the ground, spearing it through a slimy, gutted fish from the basket beside you. Your nose wrinkled as you heard the sharp point break skin. No amount of faux stoicism could make it seem pleasant to you.
“I have a few questions,” You grimace under your mask as she asserts herself. She can ask them all she wants, but there’s no guarantee you’ll answer.
You might, probably, as keeping secrets hasn’t always been your strong suit. She’s certainly been trying to open you up for a while. You’ve not given her any leeway before though, no reason to give her any now.
“How did you tame your dragon?” She asked, pushing a particularly thick dragon searching for morsels. Valka guides its head gently away with her spare hand before any of the other dragons crowding around them get any ideas.
You wait for a moment, still wondering whether you should follow along. Eventually, you decide to answer.
“Wasn’t me. Someone else back home did it,” You huff, “I just followed along.”
“...But not very well,” Valka hums. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you. Unfortunately for her, that is not your problem.
She pulls a small trout off her own stick, tossing it to a crowd of young dragons, who you knew had acquired a taste for the cooked, through no fault of your own.
You should feel offended, but you know she’s right. You lean away from a wandering dragon snout as it searches you for morsels. The stormcutter, after a look from Valka, shoos it away with a large wing.
“Where are you from?”
You feel the embers from the fire as they rise, the furs of your coat becoming nearly unbearable, your skin heated up rapidly. You wrinkle your brow with annoyance as you feel a drop of sweat slide down the side of your face.
“Where are you from?” You retort pointedly.
She studies you cautiously, as if she could glean your intentions from your body language. And she very well could. Or the heat was getting to you, the wells you’d spent in solitude had finally done some real damage to your psyche, and you were hallucinating.
“Berk,” She says. You sit back, surprised, “And you?”
“...None of your business.” You wonder how long it had been since she had left. You pray she would not know you.
Valka raised her eyebrow.
“I’m serious.” You ground your heel into the dirt. It was a touchy subject, still.
“Berk, too. …Stop looking at me like that.”
Valka leaned back against the ice wall where you rested, looking out over the empty ocean as dragons flooded to and fro the sanctuary. You squinted far into the distance, as if you thought you might be able to see through it if you tried hard enough.
Your hair tugged wildly by the winds out from behind your mask as you sat, one leg extended and the other bent as you leaned back against one arm.
You probably looked as you felt, weary and unkempt after a long flight over the seas with your dragon, who clambered among the icy spike-lined wall with clawed hands. You felt refreshed yet somehow at odds with yourself still.
You cared little for your bedraggled demeanor the same way you hadn’t cared for much at all in a while. It might have made a cool picture had you not slipped and fallen onto your face on the ice just a few minutes prior. Whether you had broken your nose or not on your mask had yet to be uncovered. All that mattered was that Valka hadn’t seen.
Dragons crowed. Through the cracks in the walls of the sanctuary, the wind would whistle through if it hit the right angle. Louder than anything else were the sounds of the waves crashing against rock.
But between you and Valka, it was silent. A contemplative silence, the kind of silence you shared with others after a long thought or a hard day’s work. That’s how you knew she was going to break it.
“Why did you leave?”
You are annoyed at the prospect but are no less expectant. After the moment passes, you are not surprised. However, it feels as if you are the one who should be asking.
“Why did I leave?” You ask, “Does it matter?”
A loose chunk of ice falls off the side of the sanctuary as a large titan scrambles violently down the side, chasing after a bright yellow baby. You spot a shape through the fog, distant and blurry enough to resemble a bird though there are no birds here. You pointedly do not think of your small hut, even less of green eyes, and tiny, fading freckles.
Valka tilted her head in your direction, reaching a hand out to scratch Cloudjumper under his chin as he lowered himself towards her, “It mattered to you.”
You open your mouth, but you are only able to choke on your breath. No one has ever said something like that to you, not in a long while. You don’t understand why it’s hitting you so hard. Maybe it’s the isolation.
You blame the burning of your eyes on the biting wind.
“Why did you leave?” You ask in return, once you’ve taken time for yourself, though you have an idea. You can’t keep your voice from sounding a little bit scratchy.
You unhook your dagger from your belt, trying not to seem so attentive. Instead, you take to carving random shapes into the ice. A gronkle. A nadder.
“I was taken.” She sighs, quieter now. Lost off in memory as you both often are.
The nadder’s spikes are much too long. The gronkle looks more like a sandwich than a dragon.
“Taken?” You prompt and you begin on the outline of a fury. The result is shallow and scratchy.
It’s one of your own designs, not the same as the one Berk uses. Astrid liked the other one better, not yours, so that was the one Hiccup went with.
“I didn’t leave,” She insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact, “I had a son, and a husband.”
You’ve seen her by the fires, while trying to sneak out of this hellish ice maze. She talks to herself then. On particularly paranoid days, she’s slept by you, in the same caverns, so you’ve heard it. She talks in her sleep and says things she would never say awake, or had you been around. It’s all so very unsettling.
“Really?” You remarked with false astonishment. The facade is flimsy, but you figured you’d give her the benefit of the doubt. The grace to assume that you’d no idea what she was on about.
With prompting, you might have seen it earlier. In her slim form, the one she kept hidden under thick furs and thicker armor. You squint. They have the same eye color. The same hair. They both have higher cheekbones, though her son more resembles his father in that aspect. That is all.
Valka shoots you a reprimanding look. Cloudjumper, now creeping down the wall behind you, taps you on the back of your head with its tail at her behest.
Valka was of the air. Though he had the same flighty tendencies, he was very grounded, like his father, though he might either be proud or loath to admit it. He loved flying, yes, but he loved inventing and processing and routine just as much, if not more.
He did when you were close. Of course he did, he spent his whole life on it. You couldn’t really say you knew him anymore.
You didn’t pin Valka as the type to enjoy the same in any sort of manner. But that suited you just as well. You found that as time went by and as you were granted more freedoms, you appreciated it. It made it easier for you to forget. To ignore.
In the end they, you and she, she and you, were one and the same.
“But what does it matter, if you never went back?” You grumble, pushing your dragon’s head away as it nudges you towards the cliff, crooning for more flying time.
You guessed that was why she clung so viciously to the safety of her sanctuary. Why she hated other people so much, why she’d had no faith in the humanity of other people, why she’d held you here so strictly. If things could have been different, then what did she give it all up for?
Though you’d never had something else. Not even the option. You’d never been given it. Valka hadn’t been given it either, but there was a sure difference between something being there and not.
The atmosphere is silent again, tainted with some darker undertones. If you’d had to put a name to it, you might have called it grief.
“I want to leave.”
Valka doesn’t look surprised at your request. And indeed, it’s been no secret that you wanted to leave. Maybe she was glad for it, or maybe she was sad at the news.
After all, you settled into each other's presence long ago. You had a good sort of companionship.
And from that companionship, you learned a lot without even trying, just by watching. Eventually she took notice and she took an active part in teaching you the truths she learned during all her years in self-imposed isolation.
You two weren’t incredibly close but you could tell Valka was grateful for the company, grateful to have someone maybe even a little bit like her, even if most of it was spent in silence.
You still left the Drago fighting for her. It wasn’t your fight, it was hers, and you made that clear.
Neither of you brought up Berk. Ever.
You were content to just come and go as you pleased, for a while. Nonetheless, despite your freedom, you felt restricted to the small world of the Sanctuary and the empty skies around it. There was no place for you on the ground or by the seas, where hunters and trappers swarmed by the thousands and Drago’s armies grew by the day.
You spent so much time learning from her and yet it felt like no time at all. Which was why you were shocked when you’d truly learned how much had come and gone in full.
You were out slinking in the shadows, seeking shelter from a storm on the same small rocky outcropping of island that had a shipful of trappers stranded, in a rage and a panic as they attempted to recover their assets. The winds had been too rough to fly, so you had no choice but to wait and listen.
You didn’t believe it at first. It had been…
Months.
You wondered if he’d been married, yet.
Years.
The idea hurt, not as much as you’d thought it would, still not as little as you’d hoped.
Under clear skies, you found an inn, untouched by everything except grass and trees.
You asked, “What day is it?”
The large man, a burly viking scrubbing down a wooden cup with a torn old rag, had looked down at you skeptically from behind a beaten pine and stone counter.
Two years. It had been nearly two years since you left Berk. Just as Valka’s attachments kept her at the Sanctuary, you needed to go. To run.
Since you had heard it, spoken it, the urge to run, to fly hadn’t abated at all, going from a wispy thought at the back of your mind to a full blown need. Your dragon too had become antsy, maybe feeding off of your nervous energy. Eager to take off, to fly new skies.
“Are you sure?” Valka asked searchingly. You two were stationed over a heavily planted cliff over a large main pool which consisted of the main cavern within the Sanctuary, once again in front of a fire, eating your own meals as the dragons below ate and exchanged fish.
You were already packed, your mask secured as it had been for all two years you had been in this place stuck between confinement and dwelling. You almost regretted it, not telling her your name, but you couldn’t bear yourself to her knowing who she was, not truly. Not until you’d washed yourself of that particular weight.
“Yes,” One day you would, if you ever saw her again. Once you were released from the heartache and pain of your own making, “I am. Thank you.”
You started out into the pale foggy sky, mounted your beast as smooth as you’d ever done, which is to say, not smooth at all. You’d only ever managed it right when Valka was watching, anyhow. It was odd how that worked, maybe the peer pressure was finally starting to kick in.
As you took off and the sanctuary became smaller and smaller both to your eyes and your mind, as the tight bundle of chains in your chest dropped and the world opened up to you once more, you felt light, and free.
Once again, there was no one to watch you and no one to hurt for besides your and your dragon. Endless opportunity. Thousands of ways to keep going.
You wondered what your face looked like.
You couldn’t wait to see it again.
#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#how to train your dragon#httyd#x reader#fanfiction#httyd imagine#httyd fanficiton
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Info
My inbox open even if you just want to chat headcanons about these characters 😊
I also prefer only writing for FemReader 🤷🏼♀️ it's just easier
I have no decency so nothing is too filthy 😈 (especially if it's dark/hardcore)
These are slashers so a majority of my writing leans towards darker themes.
I will still write some fluff though lol
I love writing about the Omegaverse (and honestly any other Alternative Universe 😏)
MINORS DNI 🔞
> main blog @im-his-druidess
>Formerly posted on lovely-cryptid<
>Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive
MASTERLIST
Characters
Travis "Trapper" Beasley (Godzilla x Kong: A New Empire)
Herr Köing (Cuckoo)
Adam Barrett/Frank (Abigail)
Sir Lancelot (NATM3)
Adam/The Beast (Beauty and the Beast 2017)
David Collins (The Guest)
Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon)
Steven Grant (Moon Knight 2022)
Marc Spector
Jake Lockley
Poe Dameron (Star Wars Franchise)
Cecil Dennis (Revenge for Jolly 2012)
Prompts
A/B/O
Kinks
Spicy
Yandere
I Will NOT Write For:
Self harm/Su!c!dal thoughts
Dom!reader
Pegging/Anal
Male!Reader (as stated above I ONLY write for Female reader)
Mommy/Daddy Kink
Religion Kinks
Watersports
DDLG
#Steven Grant#Marc Spector#Jake Lockley#Poe Dameron#Cecil Dennis#Moon Knight 2022#star wars franchise#Revenge for Jolly 2012#Moon Knight#marvel cinematic universe#Oscar Isaac#Poe Dameron x Reader#Cecil Dennis x Reader#Oscar Isaac x Reader#steven grant headcanons#marc Spector headcanons#poe dameron headcanons#cecil dennis headcanons#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#Aemond Targaryen x Reader#aemond targaryen headcanons#Aemond one eye Targaryen#dan stevens#sir lancelot#herr könig#adam barrett#frank abigail#beauty and the beast 2017#Travis “Trapper” Beasley
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♡Master list Index♡
───── ❝ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 ❞ ───── ೋღ 🍓 ღೋ 🍓Female. 30. Artist / Writer🍓 🍓OC x Canon Shipper🍓 🍓Multi-Shipper🍓 ೋღ 🍓 ღೋ
SOCIALS: ╰₊➢ AO3 ╰₊➢ WATTPAD ╰₊➢ FF. NET ╰₊➢ TWITTER
───── ❝ RULES ❞ ───── - DO NOT WRITE Y/N or READER READER FANFICS - I WRITE / DRAW OC x CANON content - Some fics/comics have heavy topics & will be tagged appropriately - Rude comments insulting me, my art, or my writing will end up in a block.-
🍓]|I{•------» 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 «------•}I|[🍓
αηιмє(ѕ): ❥・My Hero Academia 𐃘(Katsuki, Kirishima, Aizawa, & Izuku)
νι∂єσgαмє(ѕ): ❥・Apex Legends 𐃘(Mirage & Fuse) ❥・Baldur's Gate 3 𐃘(Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Rolan & Dammon) ❥・COD 𐃘(Ghost & Konig) ❥・Dead by Daylight 𐃘(Trickster, Trapper, Ghost Face & Myers) ❥・Destiny 2 𐃘(Shaxx & Crow) ❥・Resident Evil 𐃘(Leon S. Kennedy & Chris Redfield)
тν ѕнσω(ѕ): ❥・The Boys 𐃘(Ben aka Soldier Boy)
━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━
Fanfiction Lists:
♡ Messy Situation (Ongoing)
Originally a Twitter Fanfic Thread - engaged!Deku x engaged!OC (Amelia) / Bakugo x cheating!OC (Amelia)
-⚠️CW: Angst, cheating, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Gaslighting, Blood, Violence, non-con, mentioned past s3lf harm, Suic1de att3mpt, depression, body dysmorphia, slight body shaming comments and self-hate etc⚠️ MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI ♡ Beauty & the Beast (Ongoing) -Sugar Daddy!Blood Riot x Sugar Baby!OC
Originally a Twitter Fanfic Thread
-⚠️CW: Age Gap (40 & 21), Sugar Daddy!Kiri, Sugar Baby OC, OC X CHARACTER, Heavy themes: Violence, Blood, Character deaths, manipulation, gaslighting, manhandling, kidnapping, yandere characteristics, containment, non/dub con themes, Sugar Daddy / Baby lifestyle, Inappropriate use of quirks, etc⚠️
MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI ♡ Help Me (Ongoing) - Leon S. Kennedy x OC -⚠️CW: Adult situations, Smut scenes, Trigger Warnings, tobacco use, alcohol use, violence, some gore, and PTSD episodes. OC with amputations and prosthetics. MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI
♡ More to be updated ♡
━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━ Comic List: ♡ Night of the Fireflies
[ Fantasy AU - Kiri x Baku x Rose (OC) ] - Inspired by YUZUYA’s Fantasy Asmr(Started Last Year. Being converted into page comics after I upload all the beginning panels)Cw: There will be future adult situations
MINORS DNI ♡ Rewind
Kastuki Bakugo x OC Comic
TW/CW: Character Death, Funeral, OCxCanon, Married/Widowed Bakugo, Will have nudity, sexual situations, strong language. MINORS DNI
MINORS DNI
━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━ Heart boarders by @/cafekitsune
#masterlist#fanfiction#comics#fanfic#comic art#canon x oc#Oc#original character#my hero acedamia#resident evil 4#baldur's gate 3
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Omg I love ur blog so much I always re read all of the Deathslinger ones 😫❤️
Anyway! I was wondering if it's possible for a slinger x female surv reader where she's been with him for a while and even made friends with the other killers (preferably Frank and Pin) but blight went around and dosed a bunch of the other killers (slinger included) and doc and Trapper r like well take u to lerys since that's where he's being held. She just watches in horror as Caleb is just a monster. To the point she sleeps outside of the chamber and stuff like that and frank is bff and is there for her 100% even pin is trying to keep her distracted by solving the cube and stuff like that. Afterwards when the serum wears off she like tackles this poor man and super fluffy ending of ur choosing thank you and I'm sorry if this is so long 💀
Hey there! Thank you soo much for those kind words, I always love to hear people enjoy my things! 🤠❤️ And thank you for the request, I really hope you like what I came up with! 🫶 (This became a really long one, so grab some popcorn and settle in!)
“As the heavens fall” - Caleb Quinn/The Deathslinger x Female S/O
It felt stupid to be writing a poem in a place like this, but it couldn’t be helped. You had an urge to write something neat for Caleb, and you were already halfway through the poem. Smiling like an idiot to yourself, you read through what you had written so far. Looked good enough, but now it was time to get some sleep. A trial was waiting for you soon, and you needed your strength. Cuddling up in your sleeping bag, you listened to the others at the campfire, their stories and occasional laughs. It made you feel safe and sleepy, knowing the others were here as well, all safe. For now. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a longing in your heart for Caleb, and you wondered where he was these days. You hadn’t seen him in weeks.
Waking up at the old Thompson house, you quickly got on your feet and started exploring the place. Everything seemed as usual, the strange family portraits still hung on the walls and the stench of sweat and dead filled the rooms. Finding a generator downstairs, you started working on it as silently as you could. You still didn’t know who your killer was, or who your teammates in this trial were for that matter. One had to be careful at the start of a trial, always. But the minutes went by without you hearing or seeing anything other than your own generator, and you started to worry. Then, a loud roar could be heard in the distance. The chainsaw. Quickly, you got up from your generator and left it to sneak out the back door of the house. It wasn’t safe to stay inside a house with one of the chainsaw-wielding killers, you knew that. You needed to be able to run fast, if the situation called for it. You caught a glimpse of Kate through the cornfield, and you were just about to run up to her as you heard the roaring chainsaw again. This time it was a lot closer. Feeling your pulse quicken, you laid low in the cornfield, hoping not to be seen by the killer. Seeing a tall figure run through the corn a couple of meters away from you, you held your breath. There he was, the Hillbilly. But something was different about him. He seemed a lot faster in his limping sprint, and something yellow oozed out from his eyes and mouth. And the hissing breath was even more frantic than usual. Before you could react, he had found Kate hiding in the corn, and grabbed her by the hair. She screamed, helplessly trying to free herself from the iron grasp, but the Hillbilly quickly tossed her over his shoulder and started limping away with her. You could only watch in terror, as the killer lifted Kate onto a hook and the agonising screams filled the air. You remained hidden, watching as the Hillbilly revved his chainsaw and burst into a maniacal sprint, heading towards the Thompson house. Something was definitely different about him, he seemed so much faster and even more agitated than usual. As if the whip of the Entity was on his back at all times.
The trial went south from there. The Hillbilly slaughtered all your teammates with ease, and all you could do was watch. It was useless to try and be a hero against a chainsaw. When you found the hatch in the cornfield, you thanked your lucky star before opening it and jumping in. Back at the campfire, you didn’t find Kate or anyone else that had been with you at the trial. And you knew why. They hadn’t been granted rest at the campfire for their “poor performance” at the trial, and so they had probably been sent to another trial already. It always made you uneasy, having survived a trial while your teammates got punished. But that was how things were around here. As you sat down at the campfire, your mind turned once again to the Hillbilly and his unbelievable speed and agitation. How was that possible, and what was the yellow stuff oozing out of him? It had almost resembled the serum that the Blight injected himself with, but that couldn’t be possible. Or could it? In one swift motion, you got back up from the log at the campfire. Something was wrong, you had to find Caleb and ask him what he knew about all this. You missed him, you were worried, you needed to be with him. Saying a quick “bye” to Claudette and Jake at the camp, you ventured off into the black forest. They knew you and Caleb were seeing each other, you had been for some time now. They didn’t mind you sneaking off to be with him and say hello to some of the other killers, and for that you were thankful. You didn’t really know how it was to be that you and Caleb started dating, it just sort of happened. One day you were stupid, or brave, enough to seek out Glenvale and find him there, and the next thing you knew the two of you were inseparable. Smiling at the memory of your first date, you quickened your pace a bit, running over roots and fallen tree trunks. You knew your way to Glenvale by this point, and you were soon stepping onto the hot desert sand with determined steps.
“Caleb?” you called out, not getting any reply.
Maybe he was in his workshop, but as you opened the door to the shed you found it to be empty. That was odd, he was usually always there if he wasn’t sleeping. Searching the saloon from top to bottom, you didn’t find him there either. Your stomach started curling in on itself as you found his Redeemer on the ground behind the saloon. He would never leave it out here like this, what was happening?
“Caleb?” you tried again, your voice more desperate now.
No reply this time either. Your heart was quickening up its pace by now, and you bit your lip instinctively. Where was he? This was not like him at all.
“Y/N!” someone suddenly called out, and you turned around in one swift motion to see the Doctor and the Trapper walk up to you.
“Doctor! Evan!” you sighed in relief, knowing them well and knowing they weren’t going to hurt you. “Where’s Caleb? I’ve searched everywhere and he’s not here!”
The Doctor and the Trapper looked at one another, then the Doctor cleared his throat and looked back at you.
“We haven’t had the chance to tell you… He’s been drugged.”
“Drugged?”
You felt your heart skip a beat. The Doctor nodded and the Trapper let out a heaving sigh.
“Blight was here, a couple of days ago”, he said. “Injected him with that hideous serum and dragged him away.”
“He got the Hillbilly also, but from what we’ve seen Caleb has not been responding well to the serum”, the Doctor said.
“What do you mean?” you said, your voice shaking. “Where’s Caleb?”
“He’s at Lery’s”, the Doctor responded. “Blight locked him up after he started responding poorly to the serum. We’ll take you there.”
You felt nauseous. Walking in a quick pace after the Doctor and the Trapper, you couldn’t help but imagine the terror that awaited you as you got to Caleb. What had become of him? What had Blight’s serum done to him? Feeling a knot in your stomach, you tried to shove away the thought of Caleb chained up in the treatment room of Lery’s. As the three of you finally got to Lery’s courtyard, the knot in your stomach was the size of a football.
“Where is he being held?” you asked, and the Trapper pointed towards the second floor.
“A room up there, one of the patient’s rooms.”
Without hesitating, you marched in through the doors of Lery’s and made your way upstairs. You jogged up the stairs to the second floor and almost ran to the hallway with the patient’s rooms. Checking every room through the small glass window in the doors, you searched frantically until you found him. There he was, in the last room. You tried the door, it was locked. Hearing someone at the door, Caleb turned around to face you. What you saw was worse than any nightmare you had ever had in this place. Caleb’s face was a mess, an oozing, yellow mess. The serum was dripping out of his mouth and eyes, his body crouched and crooked into a seemingly inhuman position. This couldn’t be.
“Caleb!” you cried out, and the next second Caleb threw himself at the door with a loud roar.
You backed away from the door, tears streaming down your face. This wasn’t Caleb, you knew that. It hurt so much, seeing his distorted face pressed up against the door’s window. This wasn’t him. Curse the Blight for injecting him with the serum!
“Y/N!” you suddenly heard a voice call out in the hallway.
It was Frank.
“Y/N, where are you?”
“I’m over here, Frank”, you replied, wiping the tears from your face.
Frank ran up to you, and the two of you embraced in a strong hug.
“I heard what happened to… Shit, it’s so fucked up!” Frank said, releasing you from the hug. “I saw what had happened to the Hillbilly, but I never thought he would inject Caleb too!”
You nodded, wiping away a few new tears. You looked back at Caleb, who had moved away from the door and was hunching over in the corner of the room now.
“I can’t stand seeing him like this!” you said.
“I know”, Frank sighed, sitting down on the floor opposite of the door. “I asked the Doc what he thinks about this. I’m afraid the only thing we can do is wait it out.”
You let out a trembling sigh and sat down next to Frank on the cold floor.
“I’ll wait as long as I have to.”
And wait you did. Day and night, outside of the room. You slept on the cold floor when you needed rest, and wandered in circles outside of the room when you were awake. As soon as you were called to a trial, you were determined to survive so that you could go back to Lery’s and see Caleb. Pinhead and Frank came to see you a couple of times, Pinhead bringing his box to try and get your mind on something else.
“Thanks, Spencer, but I don’t think I can solve any puzzle boxes right now”, you sighed.
Pinhead nodded in silence and remained at the door as Frank sat down next to you on the floor opposite of the room.
“Any improvements?” he asked, and you sighed heavily.
“Nothing. He’s like a-a monster, like nothing I’ve seen before. I still can’t believe it…”
“Hey”, Frank said, and you looked up at him. “He knows you’re here, he can feel it. And he’s gonna get better, you have to trust that.”
You nodded, a silent tear falling down your face. You had to trust that.
One day, you brought the poem with you. You sat down in silence, after checking in on Caleb, and continued writing it. You had thought of an ending to it.
“... and as the heavens fall, I fall with it, and drown in the stars of your eyes.”
It was cheesy, but you didn’t mind it. Right now, you would give anything to just be able to hold Caleb again. To whisper into his hair how much you loved him, feel his breath on your skin as you kissed. Gasping to hold back the tears, you folded the poem and put it into your jeans pocket. Getting up from the floor, you stood at the door and peeked into the little window. Caleb was standing in the corner of the room, twitching and growling. You let out a sad sigh and pressed your hand against the window. If only you could tell him how much you loved him. But, why couldn’t you? If he understood, he understood. And if he didn’t, at least you would have it said out loud.
“Caleb…” you whispered, your breath fogging up the window slightly. “Caleb, I wish you could come back to me. I love you so much.”
Suddenly, you noticed a change in Caleb’s twitching. He turned around, facing you, and you almost screamed out in relief when you saw that the yellow ooze from his eyes and mouth had stopped. He almost looked like himself again, save for the occasional twitching and snarling.
“Come back to me, Caleb!” you said again, louder. “I know it’s you in there, come back to me, please!”
The next second, Caleb made a final twitch before he suddenly dropped to the floor with a loud thud. You screamed in shock, banging on the door in vain.
“Caleb? Caleb!”
He didn’t move. You had to find the Doctor, you had to unlock the door. As fast as your legs carried you, you ran through the hallway downstairs to the office. There you found the Doctor, and he didn’t need much convincing to give you the key to the room. Just as quickly as before, you were back at the room’s door, your shaky hands fumbling a bit with the key until you finally got the door open. Rushing into the room, you didn’t hesitate for a second as you knelt down beside Caleb’s body and grabbed it to turn him around on the floor. His back against the floor, his face up towards yours, you studied his closed eyes closely. The yellow ooze was still there, and you carefully dried it away from his face with the sleeve of your sweater.
“Caleb…?”
His eyes remained closed. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you with shaky hands stroked his face.
“Caleb, please wake up!”
Suddenly, you could see his eyes twitching behind his closed eyelids. You gasped and stroked his face again.
“Caleb! It’s me! It’s Y/N!”
The next second, Caleb’s eyes flew wide open. You gasped with happiness, as your eyes met his. It took him a few seconds to recognize you, but when he did, a bright smile grew on his lips.
“Y/N…” he whispered with a hoarse voice. “Is it really you?”
You nodded with an even bigger smile, tears of happiness forming in your eyes. Caleb sat up with a heaving sigh, his body appeared to be hurting still. You wanted to hug him, embrace him, but you didn’t want to test his sore body.
“I can’t believe you found me”, Caleb said, cupping your face in his hands. “Everything was darkness and pain. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear. But somehow, I knew you were there, right outside the door. I… I felt you.”
You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a shriek of happiness, you threw yourself into his arms, to his surprised gasp.
“Easy, there, darlin’!” he laughed, but you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him tightly, finally getting to bury your face into his long hair.
How you had missed his voice. His touch. His smell. Suddenly releasing him from the hug, you remembered something in your jeans pocket.
“Caleb, I’ve got a little something for you”, you smiled, and Caleb hummed with interest.
Taking out the folded up poem, you handed it to him with a shy smile.
“It’s silly, but I hope you like it.”
#dead by daylight#dbd fanfic#dbd#the deathslinger#caleb quinn#the deathslinger x reader#caleb quinn x reader#dbd deathslinger#frank morrison#dbd frank#dbd pinhead#dbd hillbilly
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Gossip: Trapper x Female Reader
Gossip
One week without a day off was no sweat, but two weeks was pushing it, and three was downright grueling. When a day finally came with no orders from Major Houlihan and no casualties either, you planned to enjoy every minute from the start.
Kellye had promised to loan you her nail polish, so nails were on the to-do list, as was serious time spent with curlers on. There were letters from home to answer, but there weren't so many that it couldn't be done in a day, and there were plenty of things horrid things you'd leave out, probably. And there was talk of a movie in the mess hall that night, which sounded like a nice break from everything - if the equipment didn't break down. It did so often, apparently.
But before any or all of that? A shower, though it took time for you to ease into it; you couldn't help, as the water warmed, keeping an ear out for an ill-timed helicopter or the rattle of an ambulance in a rush. Only after a few minutes passed did you begin to relax, and to give your hair the pampering it needed without worrying you'd have to rinse off in a hurry. Shampoo and conditioner today, yes, ma'am.
It was a boost, as was being able to put on your soft lilac robe from home rather than your uniform immediately. It felt like another sign of a peaceful day ahead, not like you were a few miles from the front lines of a war at all. Or so you hoped it could feel that way, if the springtime sun stayed bright and the skies stayed free of the thwack of helicopter blades. You didn't even mind missing the morning meal, knowing you could still find coffee or when you chose to, not when the bugle blasted the call to line up before breakfast. Compared to the last few weeks, it really was luxurious.
Leaving the shower tent felt like greeting the day all over again, just as happily and far fresher-faced than the first time, but your optimism dwindled a little after a few steps. Even on a good day, nothing could slow one down like an uncomfortably twisted sandal strap, and you had to stop walking to lean down and fix it.
You'd almost untwisted it when you heard footsteps jog nearer, and Captain McIntyre's familiar Boston accent. "Hey! Just the L.T. I wanted to see," he announced, and as he got within handshake distance, leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you hear the hot gossip going around?"
Huh? You straightened your sandal strap and then your posture, and shot him a look that had to be confused. "Nobody really, uh, comes to me with the hot gossip," you said quizzically. The gaggle of witty, intelligent nurses were all great and most were nice, but you still felt new from time to time. And doctors you thought were boyishly cute? It was even rarer that their gossip would be thrust in your direction, and it was slightly baffling. "So, no, I doubt I've heard…" Was he being playful in some way? You decided you had the time and maybe just enough curiosity to play along. "You care to enlighten me?"
"Oh, well, sorry, I was sure that everyone'd heard," he stated with such melodrama that you were now sure he was being playful, with some rascally motivation or another behind the telling. "Word's out that Hawkeye is going to the movies with Nurse Marino tonight."
"…Oh?"
Captain McIntyre leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms with a nod. "Have it on good authority."
You couldn't help but laugh. You weren't sure what he was playing at, but it had to be something. "Well, I… guess that could be considered gossip, sure, but I don't think anything, uh, guarantees it being hot…"
The doctor laughed as well. "Ye of little faith in Hawkeye? That or you're insultin' both or either of 'em, and I can't tell which," he admitted with a muted cackle.
He was certainly attractive when he laughed, and the way his tee stretched over his arms wasn't half bad, either. But you hadn't meant the latter half of what he'd implied, and that was more important. "No, no, I didn't- they're both… fine-looking, I didn't mean anything by-"
"Hey, ease up. You got a sense of humor, and that's a good thing out here," he assured, and suddenly his arm was around your shoulders as he leaned in close again. "But, listen, them two going out tonight, I do have a problem with it."
You were surprised. You'd worked with Captain McIntyre before, but he'd never so easily gone straight to touching you. You'd heard stories, though. Maybe he simply hadn't had the time, until he'd gotten a day off, too?
Either way, the warm weight and sight of his hand on your left shoulder flustered you for a moment. What had he just said? "…A problem?"
"Mmm… Y'see," he began, with an air of pretend gravity, "Hawkeye was gonna be my date to the movies tonight."
Your date, huh? Funny phrasing. But you were aware you'd parroted him once already, and didn't want to make a habit of that conversational faux pas, even if he was inscrutable.
And suddenly, his arm around your shoulder made a lot more sense. You fought back a smile, and took a step in the direction of your tent. You didn't mean to throw him off, though. No, you moved more to discern whether he'd follow.
His hand didn't falter. He fell into casual step beside you, and you felt at that point you owed him an answer of some sort.
"So, you're lacking a movie date… and that's why you wanted to find me?" It was very flattering, especially from someone you did casually like, but there was one big deterrent to keep in mind… "And why your married hand is on my shoulder right now?"
He only smiled, the absolute cad, and pointed playfully with his free hand. "Hey, now, I didn't say anything about marriage, just we could go see a picture together."
You considered that oddly charming non-answer as you continued to lead the way towards your tent, and once nearer to home, you slipped out from beneath his arm. "Well, Captain, I'll… I'll think about it," you promised, knowing that married or otherwise, you did have a slight crush and may not need long to decide. "If you're sure it's just the movie," you added, and leaned against the tent's corner pole, looking at him knowingly. "I may not know all the gossip, but I… have heard a thing or two, you know…"
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, patiently, cutely even as he met your eyes and prompted, "A thing or two about?"
You might have been blushing, but managed to get the words out. "That a nice, simple, fun little movie night with you has a way of… of ending up in Supply."
Captain McIntyre hummed thoughtfully and scratched his jaw. "Those nurses… Talkative bunch!"
"Mm, they can be," you admitted with a grin, having fun with having the upper hand.
"Guess it all depends, then," he seemed content to conclude.
"On what?"
That broad, boyish smile returned. "Whether ya like what you've heard."
If you hadn't been blushing before, you were now, and rolled your eyes and averted your gaze to try to hide it. "Captain…"
"Well, am I wrong? You either believe gossip or don't, and either like what you hear or don't," he said simply and good-naturedly. "You don't like any of it, you probably won't drop by the Swamp around six, whet your whistle with a drink before all that popcorn. But now, see, now I'm curious, and I gotta ask…"
He'd stepped closer, and you noticed his gaze wandering downward. Men! While you were more flattered than exasperated, you did close your robe a little tighter, but it was out of adherence to propriety in public more than real feeling. So was the unamused look you shot him, one that implied a warning even as you said, "Then ask."
"Well, you heard some gossip about the movies, but, ah…" He paused, and made sure again to make eye contact. "What precisely do the nurses say about supply?"
Oh, crap.
What you'd heard about him, you weren't about to repeat, though your surprise and sudden speechlessness must have given it all away.
And damn him, but he was smirking like he'd known the answer before he'd asked.
What a jerk. Or not a jerk, but at least a very good flirt. Oh, boy, but you had to say something, didn't you? That, or let him know he had you tongue-tied.
"…like I said…" A good and graceful stall as any, you thought. You inched a little closer to the door of your tent, cracked it open and began to slip inside, and gave him a little farewell wave. "I'll think about it."
Once inside, you shook your head with a disbelieving laugh. He was something else! He'd come on strong, too. Oh, sure, he and Captain Pierce did that with all the nurses, but there was something fun about him, and married or not, maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to get to know him a little better, for fun or a fling or… maybe just a movie with that big arm back around your shoulder, why not… It didn't mean anything to snuggle up close to a warm-blooded, charismatic guy for the length of a film, and surely you couldn't be so easily compelled towards the supply room, unless you wished to be…
Captain McIntyre watched the flimsy door close and snickered to himself. He'd let the lovely lieutenant think, that was just fine, but he personally had a good feeling about the night ahead, and sensed that even better feelings might flourish after the credits had rolled.
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Blog Intro and Info
Slasher’s I Write:
Asa Emory/The Collector
Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull
Michael Myers/The Shape
Jason Voorhees
Danny Johnson/Ghostface
Evan MacMillan/The Trapper
Slasher OC’s:
Persephone Duncan /The Caretaker (Spouse and Killing PartnerOf Jesse Cromeans)
Ivy & Ian Cromeans- Duncan (Twin Children of Jesse Cromeans & Persephone Duncan) (Age Varies Between Baby-Child & Teenager)
Honey Reynolds (Spouse of Asa Emory)
Agnes Emory (Daughter of Asa Emory & Honey Reynolds) (Age Varies Between Baby-Child & Teenager)
Rosemary Douglas/The Northeast Reaper (Adopted Daughter of Owen Douglas)
Owen Douglas/The Northeast Butcher
Artemis Russell/The Beast
Malachi Grey/The Dollmaker
Lunette Scott (Girlfriend of Malachi Grey)
Jonathan West/The Huntsman
Katrina Evans (Girlfriend of Jonathan West)
Samuel Baker Jr/ The Manic
Olive Ryder (Is a Child OC So only platonic Request)
Cassidy Brooks
What I Do Writer:
- Headcanons
- Drabbles
- Slasher x Reade
- Slasher x OC
- Male x Female
- Gender Neutral Reader
- Non-Descriptive Reader Unless Requested Otherwise
What I don’t Write:
- Non/Con
- Underage
- Watersports
- Age Play (Non Sexual Or Otherwise)
- Incest (May allude to such abuse in a characters past but will not write characters doing similar acts)
#Asa Emory#The Collector#Asa Emory x Reader#Jesse Cromeans#Chromeskull#Jesse Cromeans x Reader#Asa Emory x OC#Jesse Cromeans x OC#Michael Myers#Michael Myers x Reader#Michael Myers x OC#Jason Voorhees#Jason Voorhees x Reader#Jason Voorhees x OC#Danny Johnson#Jed Olsen#Ghostface#Danny Johnson x Reader#Jed Olsen x Reader#Ghostface x Reader#Evan MacMillan#The Trapper#Evan MacMillan x Reader#The Trapper x Reader#DBD#Dead By Daylight#Slasher OC#Slashersona#Slasher Sona#Rosemary Douglas
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I need more platonic Yandere trapper and huntress ( maybe them both as a couple)
Platonic Yandere Huntress and Trapper
My amazing sister helped since this request involved her favorite character ever, huntress. We may or may not be going as Huntress and Meg together for Halloween this year ! Thank you so so much for requesting and please feel free to request again!!
The Huntress probably found you hiding and thought "Cute. Mine now" and yanked you from your hiding spot
Trapper met you by Anna. She was showing you off and he saw you and immediately took to you
So Anna and Evan (bootyhole) kinda fought over you then they were both like "You wanna be their bestie? Me too!"
Evan (bootyhole) is a quiet and obsessive platonic yandere. He doesn't talk a lot so he has more of an advantage to study, stalk, you.
Anna is a sweet, jealous, and possessive platonic yandere. If someone other than her or Evan (bootyhole) has your attention then she'll be moody. But she'll bring you something back from a hunt or trial as an apology
Her little trinkets can consist of a lot of things.
It could be shiny, it could be wooden, it could be bloodstained
Either way
They both get weird and jealous when you're around people who aren't them. One of them might even growl at others
Anna loves to comfort you, so when you're scared or something, she'll sing you some lullabies from her childhood.
Evan (bootyhole) likes to spoil you, so expect a lot of stolen goodies
Of course, he was rich before, so he has some goodies from before, but he will mostly steal them for you because he likes finding things that remind him of you.
A lot of times it is probably a piece of art, a shiny rock, sometimes he even brings you little trinkets that the Huntress finds. She just sometimes gets too nervous to give it to you, thinking that you might not like it, so instead she’ll give it to him and he will then give it to you.
Anna loves to cuddle, it doesn’t matter what the situation is, if she is able to cuddle with you, be prepared, cause she is running as fast as she can to give you the biggest bear hug ever.
Evan doesn’t really like physical affection, but he will give you it if you need it.
But most of the time he just passes you off to Anna when you need comforting, or just snuggles in general.
Evan normally is someone who likes acts of servitude. If you are willing to do anything, even as small as pushing in his chair when he forgets to, or even just cleaning up some blood off of his weapon. (Hope you're not squeamish)
His heart will freaking melt, but in a platonic way.
Anna is one that loves physical affection and gifts. She always wants yours and Evan’s attention, mostly yours, but still. She is fine with anyone, as long as she is able to give hugs, cuddles, and just in general, be close to you or him.
Of course, Evan doesn’t like this, but again, he will do it until either he is able to find you and pass her off to you.
Even though Evan doesn’t like being hugged or having any sort of physical affection, he is okay if you are both curled up to him with minimal contact.
Like one of you laying on his shoulder, as long as the other one is laying on the other and not him, he is okay with that.
Any other way and you’re both getting pushed off of him.
Wanna know a way to rile them both up?
Bubbles.
It’s dumb, but they both love bubbles.
A/N: Who doesn't?
Anna had never seen them before and Evan was never allowed to play with them and, even if he was allowed to, he never had anyone to play with him.
So while you are blowing the bubbles, Evan and Anna are going berserk over them.
I (Lyssa) lowkey feel like Anna might attack the bubbles at first with her hatchet then try to bite them
"ANNA NO! ITS SOAP IT WON'T TASTE GOOD!" You yell after her. You're soon met with an Anna with a look of disgust from her and see bootyhole on the ground laughing with tears in his eyes
If you’re not blowing the bubbles, Evan is.
Nobody wants Anna to blow bubbles anymore.
She doesn't know how to
And just spits everywhere.
So she is just on the duty to play with them.
But don’t let anyone know that Evan has shown this side to you or Anna. He will murder you.
Literally.
Blowing bubbles is not your thing? That’s fine Evan and Anna both love reading books too!
Well, more like Evan or you reading to her, since she doesn’t understand English very well. At least, not enough to read higher than a first grade level.
So, while you or Evan are reading to her, prepare to have to explain almost everything to her, since she is still learning.
I (Lyssa) and my sister both believe Trapper is a major bootyhole (I mean have you seen the trapper mains?? They camp and or tunnel. And never wanna be our friends ): Major bootyhole vibes right there)
When you piss off Trapper he might do something mean or say something horrible to you out of anger or just to make you feel sucky too.
When that happens Anna will silently yell at him and stare him down while she cuddles you and tells you that he is just being moody and she loves you. (So sweet right?)
So basically in our opinion, Evan is a bootyhole and we'd rather have Lu (my sister)'s bestie, Huntress, as our yandere best friend <3
Not gonna lie, half of this is crack headcannons while the other half is more serious since my sister took it way more serious than I. I do hope you guys enjoyed it though! Props again to my amazing sister for making the other half of this amazing. This one was sorta different from my others. Please feel free to request anything, I have a pinned post of everything I write for.
P.S., I have a list of nicknames of most of the dbd killers if you guys ever wanna see them.
#yandere x reader#yandere headcanon#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere#ask lyssa#dead by daylight#lyssa's hcs#yandere female#platonic yandere dbd#platonic yandere#yandere dead by daylight#dead by deadlight#yandere dbd#dbd#huntress x reader#dead by daylight trapper#Miss Blue's writing
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𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘽𝙔 𝘿𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏.
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗦;
JI-WOON HAK / THE TRICKSTER,,
to be continued
PYRAMID HEAD / THE EXECUTIONER,,
to be continued
KAZAN YAMAOKA / THE ONI,,
to be continued
DANNY JOHNSON / GHOSTFACE,,
STATIK (to be uploaded)
WASHRAGS ; (FEAR) - it's not like you'd notice.
WHATEVER SIMON SAYS ; (GORE/FEAR) - better pay attention. part two is here
NO ONE ESCAPES DEATH ; (GORE/FEAR) - no one is coming to help you.
WET SAND, MOSS BORN ; (FLUFF/FEAR) - ghostface can't keep his hands off of you.
FRANK MORRISON / LEGION,,
WET SAND, MOSS BORN ; (FEAR/ANGST) - legion can't keep his hands off of you.
EVAN MACMILLAN / THE TRAPPER,,
to be continued
PHILIP OJOMO / WRAITH,,
to be continued
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗩𝗜𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗦;
LEON SCOTT KENNEDY,,
to be continued
YOICHI ASAKAWA,,
to be continued
FELIX RICHTER,,
to be continued
QUENTIN SMITH,,
to be continued
DWIGHT FAIRFIELD,,
to be continued
JAKE PARK,,
to be continued
#gender neutral reader#gender neutral character#gender neutral y/n#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#dbd#dbd x gender neutral reader#dbd x reader#dbd x male reader#dbd x female reader#dbd ghostface#dbd legion#dbd trapper#dbd the oni#dead by daylight#dbd pyramid head
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Hello, hello. Hope all is good. I saw, that your asks are open, so I came. If that's not a problem, I'd like to ask for some spicy hot NSFW headcanons with Trapper and a female reader, please? I love him so much and need things for him. I'd be grateful and thank you right away, if you happen to accept. 😊
Totally alright! And thanks for stopping by, n e ways here is your smoot
-Evan before the fog was the type to take you out on dates, give you gifts, and gently hold you until the sun went down
-he can’t really do those things now, but he will definitely try! He likes to be wined and dined before things get spicy
-the trapper is very cautious and calculated, so if you’re in a relationship with him, you better know that you’re the one and there’s no one else he’d rather have
-now onto the spice, Evan knows he’s a big guy, and will use it to your advantage to pick you up and manhandle you. He likes to see bruises on your body and mark you up with bites and hickeys.
-is very gentle when it actually comes to your first time together, always checking in with you and stretching you out beforehand. He loves to see you soaking wet and squirming under him.
-will absolutely go feral if you call him daddy/master. He does have a thing for being an authority so he is mostly dominant, however he’s okay with being top or bottom.
-only likes positions that he can see your face in.
-Evan is new to the whole idea of kinks/foreplay. Please, show him how it’s done ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
-He knows to take care of you after a rough session, but most of the times he will simply clean you and him up, and then put you in his lap to do something else. As long as you’re close to him afterwards, he’s happy.
-voyeur and no I’m not explaining
-ass and thigh guy 😎
#dbd imagines#dbd headcanons#dbd trapper#dead by daylight#the trapper#evan macmillan#female reader#the trapper x reader#she/her#smoot
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Soft Dealers and Dirty Relations
Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Female Reader/You
Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+ only
Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, slightly sub Eddie, soft brown eyes (dies)
Word Count: 3571
Summary: You have a soft spot for your dealer.
A/N: Here I am. With zero self control. Eddie Munson could get it any which way he wanted. But I really loved the idea of a more sub Eddie. A version of him that played more into that hesitation he talks about in the show and not being brave. Plus, I like the boss bitch x nerdy vibes trope. So, enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗
Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.
Disclaimer: Characters are of age in my fics.
*Masterlist in bio.
***********************
You took a long pull from the joint pressed between your red nails, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You welcomed the inevitable high that would follow. Your eyes looked over the serene and still waters of Lover’s Lake, the moon reflecting high in the night sky. All was calm.
Music hummed from the van’s speakers, the heavy strings of guitars and booming bass almost making the vehicle vibrate beneath you. A breeze swept through the van, causing you to shiver.
“You cold?”
Eddie Munson gestured to his leather jacket discarded behind him. He took note of your body's reaction and the bareness of your shoulders and collarbone. He tried to be inconspicuous about it, but you knew. You could feel those intense brown orbs practically burning a whole through the off-shoulder top you wore. He was sweet about it though. He never made you feel uncomfortable. It was why you always let him take you to the most secluded places to smoke. He knew the best spots and he was willing to share them with you.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks though,” you replied with a smile, tendrils of smoke passing between you both as you shared the joint.
Eddie had been your dealer for the last year. You’d seen him around. Heard his band play. Knew that he was on a roll to becoming the longest reigning senior at Hawkins High. Despite his academic misgivings, he was a good guy. He was funny, albeit a little nerdy. He looked meaner than he was. A quality he used to his advantage.
Over time, you’d come to know the real Eddie. The Eddie that opened doors for you and let you take the first hit of every joint because, in his words, “it’s fucking chivalry”. The Eddie that geeked out over song lyrics and guitar solos. The Eddie that kept meticulous notes on his D&D campaign and stored them in a trapper keeper for safekeeping.
Your drug dealer was as unthreatening as they came. And you liked it.
The Eddie Munson’s of the world were not usually your type. You were more familiar with the hard edges and stoic faces of men who’d most likely done things to wind up in jail. Those men excited you. It was a thrill to know that they could be dangerous. A different kind of high. But Eddie excited you for the exact opposite. He made you feel powerful, whereas most of the other guys made you feel powerless. That’s what it was all about. Power. And for the moment, you wanted some of that power back.
You sat in the back of Eddie’s van, overlooking the water. A comfortable silence sat between you, the joint lingering on his lips as he took another hit. The unmistakable melody of The Knack’s My Sharona wafted through the speakers and you sat up straighter. It was one of your favorite songs. It was a favorite because it never failed to arouse you. Something about the drums and lyrical moaning made you practically feral with desire.
It was perfect.
Eddie’s sneaker tapped along to the beat beside you, his eyes stuck on the motionless lake. He wore his Hellfire shirt, the sleeves pushed up to reveal traces of ink you’d only ever caught glimpses of. You wondered what else he had inked on his skin. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and the many rings that adorned his fingers. You licked your lips at the sight. He shifted his legs, pulling your focus to his crotch for a brief second before you caught yourself.
You decided to implement your own tried and true tactics. You weren’t new to the laws of attraction and wanting someone to notice you. You had your methods. And they always worked. So you’d use them. Because you were horny. And because Eddie Munson had been trying extremely hard not to eye fuck you.
Ooh my little pretty one, pretty one.
When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?
Ooh you make my motor run, my motor run.
Gun it comin' off the line Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up.
Such a dirty mind. Always get it up for the touch
Of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo.
M M M My Sharona
You stood from your perch in the back of his van and walked closer to the water, keenly aware that he was watching you. You stretched a bit, the hem of your ruffled skirt riding up as you did. You let him get his free show in before you turned around, arms behind your back as you approached, your chest pushed out and daring him to steal a glance.
His soft brown eyes were dark, the color shifting and almost melting into his pupil. He still held the joint in his hand as he watched you make your way back towards him, a wicked smile on your painted lips. You stepped into his space, settling yourself between his spread thighs. The action caught him off guard and he straightened, albeit a little slowly. You ran your nails up his denim clad thighs, observing the way he observed you. There was confusion and shock written on his features. But you could see the desire there too. It coated your body like a warm blanket, pulling you in.
“Wh-what’re you doing?”
He stuttered out the words and you had to try hard not to giggle. He backed up as you leant in, stealing the joint from his fingertips. You held his startled gaze as you sucked in smoke. You’d never been this close to him before. And aside from the occasional bump of fingers passing between each other, you’d never touched him.
He felt good.
The joint soon became a roach and you set it on the chrome bumper of his van, freeing your hands. You didn’t move from your position.
“You want me to move?” you asked, an eyebrow arched as you awaited his answer.
He took a long time to respond. He was searching your face. Searching for an answer to your sudden closeness. He’d find nothing but want.
Come a little closer huh, ah will ya huh.
Close enough to look in my eyes, Sharona.
Keeping it a mystery gets to me
Running down the length of my thighs, Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up. Such a dirty mind.
Always get it up for the touch
Of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo.
M M M My Sharona
“No,” came his breathless reply.
You smiled and took that as your cue, running your fingertips higher up his thighs. The muscles tensed beneath you, but you pressed onward. Your lips drifted closer to his, but never touched. You teased him, letting him feel only as good as you wanted him to feel.
“Touch me, Eddie.”
“Where?”
You ran your nose along his stubbled cheek, nuzzling into his hair as your lips ghosted over his ear. “Everywhere.”
His hands tentatively touched your hips, gripping the material of your skirt and then loosening again. He hesitated before letting them roam to your ass. He palmed the flesh and then quickly released, as if he’d been burned.
“Like this?” he asked, his tone unsure.
You kissed along his neck, letting your tongue dart out to taste his flesh. He groaned at the action, his hands following suit and grasping your ass once again.
“Like that,” you praised, voice breathy and low.
He did it again. And again.
Each of his touches were in response to your lips on his skin. You sucked at a patch on his neck, gentle enough to not leave a mark but enough to bring pleasure. He angled his head, allowing you to work him over. Your tongue trailed across his Adam’s apple, his chin, and then his mouth. You both pressed into each other as lips clashed, followed soon by tongues. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as he brought you closer. Every nerve felt like it’d come alive when his lips touched yours. Your breath was running out, but you didn’t care. You both sucked in air when you could, unwilling to separate just yet.
“In the van,” you ordered when you’d both finally broken apart. You tugged at the front of his shirt as you hopped into the back. Eddie followed you, settling against the side of the interior. You made your way into his lap, lips finding his as soon as he was close enough.
He became braver with his touches. He clutched at you with purpose, realizing he could elicit those raspy moans from deep within you. You ground down on his lap, hearing the most beautiful whimper fall from his lips. You did it again, feeling him thrust upwards in response. He was hard and warm and you were desperate to have him inside of you.
You let your fingers fall to the button of his jeans, feeling his stomach go rigid and his mouth pull away from yours. He looked dazed as he tried to orient himself away from your tempting touch.
“Hold on,” he panted, holding your hands in his.
You did as he said, chest rising and falling just as fast as his. You could see remnants of your lipstick on his face as he licked at his kiss-swollen lips. His eyes peered down, seeing the noticeable imprint of your nipples pebbled against your shirt. He sucked in a breath, almost comically and you giggled.
“I’ve, uh…I’ve…,”
You watched as he struggled to formulate a sentence. He seemed nervous again. Almost shy even. You’d never seen him so vulnerable.
You reached out and cupped his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet yours. You smiled down at him in response, seeing him relax slightly.
“What is it?”
His eyes closed and he sighed again, falling into your warm touch and soothing voice. You waited him out, continuing to caress his cheek as he worked up the nerve to say whatever he needed to say.
“I haven’t done this very much,” he finally confessed, still unable to meet your stare.
“What? Kiss?” you teased.
Eddie rolled his eyes and adjusted you in his lap, causing him to connect to your heated core. You bit your lip at the graze, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Noooo,” he drew out, again not realizing that his fingers were rubbing soft circles into your thighs. “Sex,” he finally admitted.
You weren’t entirely surprised by his words. While he may look bad ass, he was actually quite sweet. Something you were sure not many girls your age yearned for. It didn’t make you want him any less though. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
“S’okay. It’s not like I’m a pro,” you joked, enjoying seeing his eyes light up once again.
The coolness of his rings made you shiver as he flattened his hand across your thighs. His fingertips almost disappeared under the fabric of your skirt. You inched your hips closer, hoping he would take the hint.
“Just tell me what you want,” you whispered, the moment back to being electrically charged.
He watched you closely as he skimmed his fingers between your thighs, never reaching the destination you so desperately needed him to. This time, you were sure he knew what he was doing.
“You.”
Your lips met once again. The promise of more overwhelmed you both. Hands grabbed and bodies gyrated as soft moans and low groans filled the back of the van.
“How bad?” you asked, hands drifting to the bulge hidden beneath his jeans.
“W-what?” he returned, confusion coloring his words.
You began to softly rub at him through the fabric, feeling him throb in your palm. His head made contact with the side of the van, eyes squeezing shut as you applied a gentle pressure.
“How bad do you want me?”
“I’m pretty sure you can feel it, sweetheart.”
You took a sick delight in seeing him so strung out. His eyes were still screwed shut and his breathing was picking up speed. He swallowed and your eyes became affixed to his throat.
Without warning, you stopped. Eddie searched for your touch, but you evaded him, instead taking his own hand in yours.
“I want you too, Eddie. Real bad,” you confessed, feeling his stare. You took his long index finger and pressed it between your lips, sucking on the digit. His eyes widened, his mouth agape as he watched you take his finger further into your mouth.
You released the appendage with a pop, satisfied at the feel of him shifting beneath you. He was uncomfortably hard. You could feel it.
You led the soaked finger to the apex of your thighs, encouraging him to push your panties to the side. He obediently did so. After some delicate fumbling, you pressed his finger into your slit, the both of you drenched in warm velvet.
“Holy fuck…,” he groaned, eyes glued to your still covered pussy.
You moaned as he began to finger you on his own, unable to sit still inside you. You gripped his shoulders as he explored with light strokes. You craved more. You wanted to be filled. To feel that delicious burn that came right before the precipice of pleasure.
“Another one…add another one,” you breathlessly demanded, hips now swiveling in his lap.
He did as you requested. And the stretch you ached for came when he added two fingers instead of one. His palm brushed your clit and you gasped, closer to the edge than you’d anticipated.
“Shit, don’t stop, Eddie.”
“I won’t.”
And he didn’t.
You came with a shudder, moans sailing through the air as each rip tide of climax pulled you under. The rhythm of his fingers slowed, as did the obnoxious sound of your walls sucking him in. He let you ride his hand until the very last spasm left your body.
You collapsed on him, pressing your forehead against his. Laughter followed as your body slowly melted into him, your skin still aflame with desire.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie breathed, reverence in his voice. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You straightened to look at him properly, his fingers still very much buried inside you.
“You’re good at that,” you praised, once again surprised by him. He followed direction like a fucking dream. That would come in handy.
“Thanks,” he said sheepishly. Which was laughable considering he’d just fingered fucked you in the back of his van.
You maneuvered yourself off his hand and hissed at the emptiness you now felt. You brought the glistening digits to his mouth and without missing a beat, he sucked on them.
Your thighs twitched while your walls clenched around nothing as he tasted you. That familiar heat began to pool deep in your belly once again. You brought his lips to yours in a visceral show of passion, determined to savor yourself the same way he had.
His rings pressed into the flesh of your ass as you reached for the button on his jeans. You made quick work of the zipper, maneuvering your hand into the constricting fabric.
“I wanna feel you,” you pleaded, frustrated by his uncooperative clothing.
He hurriedly did his best to shift the material down enough so that he was freed from the confines of his jeans. Your mouth salivated on instinct.
You wasted no time in coating your palm with saliva and wrapping it around his length. He bit his lip as he watched your hand manipulate his flesh. He was swelling in your hand, moisture pooling at the tip. He was breathing heavy, limbs so rigid you were sure they would snap off his body.
“Can I ride you?” you purred into his ear, feeling him twitch under your grasp.
“Yes, yes, god yes,” he chanted, making you giggle.
You nipped at his earlobe while he helped you sink onto him. You both struggled with moving your panties to the side and as he placed the tip at your entrance, you insisted he rip the offending garment off.
“What?”
“Rip them off. It’s okay,” you assured him, too horny to give a fuck about underwear you bought at a department store.
And so he did.
The lace came away almost too easy under his hands. The action made you practically drip down his cock. As soon as he cast the ruined panties away, you sank down onto him.
“Shiiiiit,” he groaned, your skirt now pushed over your hips as he nearly tore that to shreds.
A long, low moan that you almost didn’t recognize as your own came from your lips as he sat sheathed inside of your walls. You both pulsed with need, the hum of an orgasm just under the surface.
“You gotta move, sweetheart,” he urged, hips thrusting up to motivate you.
You bit your lip and decided to have mercy on him. Mostly because you were just as impatient as he was. You began to rock your hips, taking him slowly in and out of your clutches. With every stroke, his grip tightened. You could see the veins in his forearms as he struggled to let you go at your own pace. Your hooded gaze caught the black ink resting just under the collar of his shirt and you leant forward. His cock slid against you as you reached out and licked the tattooed image, feeling him jerk and seek out the warmth of your pussy.
“Can I touch you?”
His question made you pause, seeing his hands now edging towards your untouched breasts. You felt that rush of power as you stared into his gentle brown eyes, knowing he was completely at your mercy.
“You’re inside of me, Eddie. You don’t have to ask,” you assured him, pushing your top down to pool at your waist. You placed his calloused hands over your bare breasts, throwing your head back as he massaged them.
“God, that feels good,” you rasped, hips picking up speed as he easily slid in and out of you. You tangled your fingers into his shirt, inching it up his torso. More ink was revealed to your hungry gaze.
The rough calluses of his fingers felt divine against your sensitive breasts. He was watching you closely as you bounced in his lap. It wasn’t until you felt his lips encase a nipple that you understood why. He was reading your reactions. And you gave him one.
“Harder,” you gasped, pushing him further into your naked flesh. His tongue swirled around the pebbled bud before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, making you ground down into his cock.
He switched to the other breast and you knew you wanted to cum just like this. With his cock buried deep while he sucked at your tits, brown eyes peering up at you with pure carnality.
You rubbed at your clit as he bent to your every whim. When you moaned, he repeated his action. Harder and faster. And your eyes squeezed shut as that surge of unforgiving bliss started to rise.
“I’m gonna cum…fuck.”
A delicate kiss to the underside of your chin was all it took. Galaxies passed behind your eyelids as you floated through space. Your hips moved of their accord as you chased the high of euphoria. Every part of you felt like it was going to burst.
“Shit, sweetheart…”
You barely registered Eddie’s words or the way his own hips had started to fuck you, no longer sitting idly by. You gripped his shoulders as he plunged into your depths. His face was buried in your breasts, his hands now attached firmly to your ass as he climaxed. He grunted and groaned, spilling himself inside of you.
Warmth filled you as he got as close to you as humanly possible. You cradled his head, finally feeling his body begin to loosen. His tight hold turned to gentle caresses as he skimmed his fingertips along your naked back, making you shiver.
“That was fucking awesome,” he exhaled, skin sticking to yours as he gazed up at you.
You laughed tiredly, lethargy now seeping into your bones. “Yeah, it fucking was,” you agreed, stroking wayward strands of hair from his face.
You slowly eased him out of you, both of you wincing at the action. You adjusted your clothes, getting off his lap so he could do the same. You dressed in silence, the radio back to being the only source of sound. Another breeze came through and this time it cooled your balmy skin. You settled back into your original spot, legs dangling off the back of his van as the lake gently moved with the wind.
Eddie joined you and pulled another joint from his tin container. He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed, shaking your head as he lit up and offered it to you.
“I might be on the verge of passing out after that,” you teased, hesitating to take it from him.
“You could always crash with me,” he offered, eyes deceiving his nonchalant tone.
You inhaled and released the smoke, not holding it in for too long this time.
You smiled at his words. “We’ll see, Munson.”
That was enough for him.
You both went back to companionable silence while his cum trickled down your thigh and his neck sported a hickey.
It was perfect.
#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things
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My Writing Update - 6 Yautja//Predator One Shots [Coming Soon]
Prey or Mate? - Angst/Smut Feral!Predator x Female! Reader an alternative versions inspired by the Prey (2022 film)
Summary:The Feral Predator conducted a hunt during the month of September in 1719 across the Great Plains and then territory of the Comanche tribe before teaming up with a Comanche healing woman, who's also an aspiring hunter Naru along with her brother Taabe to wreak havoc against the French trappers. Several years later the Feral Predator returns, crash landing on private property owned by Naru's granddaughter.
City of Angels - Angst/Fluff Scout! Predator x Female! Reader an alternative versions inspired by Predator 2 (1990 film)
Summary:After running away from your crazy and obsessive ex, you decided to move out to Los Angeles for a new start. You weren't expecting to be taken-in by the Lost Predators from the Los Angeles hunting party back in 1997 (Viper Predator, who's Snake's younger brother and Clan Leader of the Serpent Clan makes a cameo appearance.)
This I Vow - Angst/Smut Scar! Predator x Female! Reader an alternative version inspired by AVP Alien VS Predator (2004 film)
Summary:When you haven't heard back from your best friend Alexa "Lex" Woods, who's been like a sister to you.. you sent out a search party to find her beneath the ice on Bouvet Island.
Wolf! Predator x Female! Reader - Angst/Smut
I haven't quite figured out the title yet but it'll be another alternative version inspired by AVP Alien VS Predator Requiem (2007 film)
I'll Find You - Angst/Smut/Fluff Fugitive! Predator x Female! Reader an alternative version inspired by The Predator (2018 film)
Summary:During the Project Stargazer of the Fugitive Predator being held captive for experiments, your so-called father noticed that you've been getting too close with the Predator and punishes you for it. The Fugitive Predator notices you getting mistreated and gets overly protective, shortly after the two of you escape. You get separated before the Upgrade Predator shows up.. during the separation you cross paths with three yautja brothers from the Isolated Clan, befriending them along with their human companion Alexa Woods.
Survivors - Angst/Fluff/Smut Crucified! Predator x Female! Reader an alternative version inspired by Predators (2010 film)
Summary:You are the last remaining survivor from your group against the Super Predators on the Game Preserve Planet in 2010 teaming up with the Crucified Predator to take down the last remaining Super Predator,the Berserker after freeing the Crucified Predator by using one of his equipment called wristblade.
#feral predator#scout predator#scar predator#wolf predator#fugitive predator#crucified predator#my writing updates#my posts
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