#BUT ALSO JOKES ON YOU THEY’RE ALL GONNA END UP TOGETHER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ma1dita · 3 months

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crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!”

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?�� he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long.

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right…she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother.

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated?

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual.

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head.

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table….You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime.

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection.

Devotion.

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away.

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not.

But you two are just friends.

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids…and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable…or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin.

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh…I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience.

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin.

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.”

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees. Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stoll brothers put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

“Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places...That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way…I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart.

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on. When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

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Bambi

Eddie thinks he’ll be the one to corrupt her, little does he know she’s already kinkier and more depraved than his wildest dreams.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist

Minors DNI

I keep getting carried away with these, this is over 7000 words! I tried to balance fluffy, sweet and goofy with filthy, smutty and kinky, hopefully I pulled off the combo and it’s not too cringy lol.

@hard-candy-writing is to blame for this one, she put the idea in my head with this post and I just ran with it. It’s maybe not quite exactly the same as that post, but still in the same spirit. Also, check out her fics too they’re brilliant!

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys, Bondage/Handcuffs, Mentions of Oral/Hints of Oral Fixation, Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Collaring, Praise Kink, The Slightest Degredation/Name-calling (Slut), Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader

You practically skip over to his table where he sits surrounded by the rest of the Hellfire Club. Eddie can’t imagine what you’d want with him as you approach him, all frills and ruffles, your hair tied into pigtails with little bows. You come to stand beside him bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands clasped together in front of you over your little, pleated snow-white skirt.

“Hi Eddie!” Your tone sweet as sugar, giving him a bright, dazzling smile.

“Uh… hi there, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” He asks, eyeing you quizzically.

“I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for milkshakes with me?” You ask shyly glancing down, toying with the charm bracelet around your wrist. What Eddie doesn’t realise though, is that your eyes end up glued to his little handcuff belt buckle as your mind races… wondering if he’d have an actual set of cuffs or if that was just part of his ‘style’.

He looks at you sceptically, “Me? You wanna go out… with me?” he points to his chest.

You look back up at him giggling, “Duh, silly that’s why I asked you.”

“Really? This isn’t some kind of joke or something?” His eyes narrow at you.

It breaks your heart to hear him say that, “Of course not, that would be horrible! I would never do that!” You insist, pouting at him.

“Alright. If you say so.” He shrugs, still can’t believe his ears.

“Ok, so I guess I’ll meet you by your van after school?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies unconvinced.

“Ok, well bye guys! See you later Eddie!” You wave to the group before bouncing away.

He spends the whole day thinking this had to be some sort of prank, there’s no way you’d actually be waiting for him. But lo and behold there you are leaning against the side of his van at the end of the day, he watches as you bend to peer in a sidemirror, reapplying your lip-gloss and smacking your lips.

As you stand back upright you catch sight of him, grinning and waving with your arm stretched up high, calling his name excitedly. He almost has to pinch himself, he can’t believe his eyes.

“So… milkshakes, was it?” He confirms as he approaches you.

“Yes, please.” You nod hopping into his van as he holds the door open for you.

The pair of you sit in the diner in a booth opposite one another, he orders chocolate, you order strawberry. When your milkshakes arrive, topped with whipped cream and cherries, Eddie picks his cherry off placing it beside his glass on a napkin.

You pluck the cherry off of yours popping it between your lips, humming in delight, “Mmmh, my favourite.” Then swiping a finger through the cream and sucking it off the tip.

Eddie gapes at you, you can’t know what you’re doing right, there’s no way, but you barely notice his reaction. You eye his cherry greedily, “You gonna eat that?” You point to it.

Eddie chokes in response, “Nope… uh, all yours.”

“Thanks.” You reply swooping in to steal it off his napkin without hesitation.

He’d never tell you, but he’d actually been saving the cherry for last.

He soon finds that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his little princess. All too quickly becoming your personal chauffeur anywhere you wanted to go. He’d even let you listen to all your girly pop music, just to see how happy it made you. Not that he’d ever even pretend to like it, but he tolerates it, for you.

Until one day when you suggest, “Hey, Eds. Why don’t we listen to some of your music for a change?”

And he leaps at the chance, scrambling to find one of his cassettes popping it in for you. He’s surprised to find you actually like it, as you nod along, tapping your foot to the beat.

“What’s this song, Eds?” You hum curiously.

“Oh, uh it’s called Rainbow in the Dark, it’s by Dio.”

“Oh, like on your back patch, right?” You ask eagerly.

His chest swells more than he thought possible, full of happiness, “Yep that’s right, sweetheart. Can’t believe you remember things like that.”

“Is this the sort of music your band plays?”

“Yeah, I guess kinda.” He shrugs.

“Maybe I could come see you guys play at that bar you guys perform at.” You suggest hopefully.

He shakes his head, “Oh, no, no, no sweetheart The Hideout isn’t the type of place for you and plus it’s on a school night.”

You pout in response, going to protest, “But…”

Your protests die on your lips as he offers, “But you could come to band practice… if you wanted.”

“Really? That’s perfect, thanks Eds.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to invite you sooner. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Of course I’m into it. You’re my boyfriend, why wouldn’t I want to support you?”

He jerks in his seat, stuttering awkwardly, “I’m your… your boyfriend?”

Your stomach drops, was it too early, you’d only been on a handful of dates, this’d be your fourth, “Oh, uh yeah… unless… unless you don’t want to be…”

“No! I mean I do… want to be your boyfriend… want you to be my girlfriend … I just… it’s… never-mind. Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.” He settles back into the seat goofy grin plastered across his face.

When you get to your destination, he leaps out trotting around the hood of the van to open your door for you as usual, offering you his hand to help you down. You giggle and take his hand, he shuts the door behind you and you lead him away from the van, his hand still clasped in yours.

An idea strikes him all of a sudden, tugging on your hand gently and spinning you to face him. He’s blurting out, stumbling over his words, “Uhhhh, hey sweetheart, I know it’s not really your style or whatever, but uh… I want… now you’re like officially my girlfriend I want to… to give you something. Show everyone you’re mine.”

He fishes around under the collar of his shirt as he speaks. You bite your lip, without even knowing it, he’s got you pegged right from the start. You wanna be his, let everyone know it, let him claim you.

He pulls out his guitar pick necklace and twists your hand so that it faces palm up. He drops the pick into your hand, slowly lowering the chain to coil up alongside it.

He looks into your eyes nervously, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck “You don’t have to wear it or anything if you don’t want. I can get you something better once I save a bit more money-”

You cut him off with a short kiss to his lips, before slipping the chain over your head, squealing, “No! Eddie, I love it! I’m going to wear it all the time!”

He stares down at your chest as his pick settles between your breasts, wrapped up as they are in your snug, little pink cardigan before gazing back up at you.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, she likes it, thank fucking Christ, he thinks to himself with a dopey grin. Floating back down to earth his grin fading slightly, but not disappearing, he clears his throat, “Alright, come on let’s go before we’re late for the movie.”

He swaps positions with you now taking the lead, making sure he stands curb-side as he pulls you to walk alongside him. You tug on his arm and he pauses turning to you as you speak, “Wait… I wanna give you something too.”

You reach into your hair tugging on the end of a ribbon, you’d had wrapped around like a headband. It falls away and you bring his hand closer to you, looping it around his wrist beside the chain bracelet that’s already there and tying a bow.

He glances down, watching your nimble fingers working the soft, pink material. It stands out on his arm, a pop of colour amidst the darkness. He feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, still can’t believe any of this is real.

He stares at his wrist for a beat, before you break him out of it, “Ok, now let’s go.”

“Yeah, sure thing Bambi.” He mumbles.

He’d started in with that nickname a little while ago, but you’re still not quite sure why. All the little nicknames he called you brought you so much joy. Every ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘princess’… you cherished them all.

Despite being your boyfriend now, he’d never felt like more of a perv than when he’s around you. He wants to take it slow with you, not rush you into anything you’re not comfortable with.

However, he finds he can’t contain himself, stealing your dirty panties, peeping on you in the shower, jerking off into your lotion imagining you rubbing it into your skin the next day.

When you offer up your shower to him one day with a, ‘…why don’t you just shower here, silly. I don’t mind’, he does the same with your body wash this time. He’s surrounded by you, your scent, absolutely falling to pieces.

The smell of you clings to him for the rest of the day, can’t resist twisting his hair in front of his face, smelling your shampoo grinning stupidly. He ends up jerking off about three more times that day.

He feels conflicted about it though, he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that, cute, innocent little y/n. There’s a part of him that wants to corrupt you, give in to all his devilishly, sinful thoughts, have his way with you. But it’s wrong, so wrong and the guilt eats him up.

It takes a while before you convince him to let you visit him at his place, he’s never been embarrassed about where he lives per se but when he compares his trailer to your perfectly, picturesque white picket fence suburbia he feels he doesn’t quite measure up. You on the other hand couldn’t care less.

“Oh, look Eds! A puppy!” You squeal pointing at the dog behind the fence trotting off to get a closer look, dirtying your white trainers in the mud without even noticing.

You bend at the waist offering your hand for the dog to sniff before scratching at its head. Your skirt rides up and flutters with a gust of wind, Eddie catches sight of the black ink at the junction of your hip, eyes bulging out of his skull, almost choking on his own tongue, “You have a tattoo?!”

“Mhmm.” You hum distractedly, fully focused on the dog in front of you.

“Can… can I see it?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” You stand turning to face him.

You scan the street for any potential witnesses, seeing none, you flip your skirt up, the little, trussed up kitten on full display beside your little lilac and white polka dot panties. Eddie chokes out a gasp, barely getting a glimpse at it before he’s rushing over to you pulling your skirt back down to cover you, “Bambi, you can’t just do that in the middle of the street!” He shrieks in a pitchy voice.

“What, why not? There’s no one here.” You protest, his hand grips your wrist and he’s dragging you into his trailer.

As soon as he gets you inside, he rounds on you, answering, “Anyone could see you out there, you don’t know the kinda pervs that live here!”

“Awww, you one of those pervs Eds?” You giggle.

He splutters, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“It’s ok, I’m only teasing.” You prod at his shoulder, “Hey, uh I wanted to ask… um, can I paint your nails?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes.

He looks down at you quizzically, “Uh, why?”

“I think it’d look hot, especially with your rings. Don’t worry I got black, got it special just for you.”

“Oh, sweetheart that’s adorable, you got it just for me?”

You nod eagerly, “Uhh huh. What do you think? Can I?”

He smirks, “You really think it’d be ‘hot’?”

“Yeah, sooo hot Eds, you have no idea.”

“Ok then. Did you wanna do it now?” He concedes.

“Yes, please!” You bounce, unable to contain your excitement and he chuckles at you.

“Come on, let’s head into my room then.”

He leads the way and you trail along behind him, he’d tidied up his room specially for you, hiding away a few choice items he thought you shouldn’t see. You don’t notice when he stiffens a little as he realises there’s something he missed. He spots a pair of your panties, stained with his cum poking out from under his bed he surges forward kicking them further under before doing an odd twirl spreading his arms and shouting a little louder than necessary, “Well, this is it!”

You grin at him, looking around the room you announce, “It’s great Eds, very you, I like it.”

Slipping your little powder blue backpack off your shoulders, setting it down on his bed and digging through it to pull out that bottle of black nail polish. You hold it up triumphantly before sitting on the edge of his bed, waving him over, “ You got some tissues or something around, don’t wanna ruin my skirt.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” He mumbles rushing off.

You take another glance around his room, giddy with excitement, you were in his room, on his bed.

He tumbles back in clutching a box of tissues, thrusting it into your arms, “Here ya go.”

You set the box down beside you, pulling a couple out and laying them over your thigh before looking up at him, “Sit please. On the floor, just there would be good.” You spread your legs a little giving him a space to slot into in front of you.

“Oh… uh… ok I guess.” He sinks to the floor on his knees.

“Thank you.” You grin at him sickly sweet. “Now I just need your hand.”

He nods offering you one and you grip it gently, bringing it to rest on your thigh over the tissue there. His fingers tremble slightly, breath catching in his throat as you let go of his hand leaving it there to open the nail polish.

He’s suddenly hyperaware of his position between your legs, his hand on your thigh. His thoughts drift to the panties under his bed as a blush spreads over his cheeks, down his neck and his dick swells between his legs.

You get to work painting his nails, tongue poking out between your teeth in concentration. When you finish one hand you bring it up to your lips, blowing over his fingers gently. His eyes dart between your glossy lips and your eyes, he has to fight back a moan.

“Next please! And careful with that hand it’s not going to be completely dry yet. Don’t want it to smudge.” You instruct him.

He nods mutely, painted hand dropping to rest on the bed beside you, you grab at the other and repeat the process.

“All done!” You hum smiling at him, “Now you gotta let them dry, you can blow on ‘em too. How about we put on one of your records and just relax for a bit?” You suggest.

He nods in agreement and you extricate yourself from your spot on the bed. Moving over to his record player that you’d spotted earlier, flipping through his collection and picking out one at random you set it up. Music fills the room, through the crackly speaker and you flop back onto his bed. He remains on the floor beside you.

You lean back sighing contentedly staring up at the ceiling when a thought occurs to you, propping yourself up on one arm you turn to him, “Hey, Eds?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why do you call me ‘Bambi’ all the time?”

“Well, it’s cause you’re all cute and innocent.” He states matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not though.” You pout back at him.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“‘M not innocent, don’t know why everyone thinks I am.”

“But you are.” He insists.

“I’m not, you’ll see.” You protest.

He chuckles to himself, “Ok, sweetheart, if you say so.”

“You will see, next time we’re at my place. I promise.”

He scrambles up the trellis outside your bedroom, hoisting himself onto the roof. Just as he pops his head around to peer into your window, hand raised to knock against the glass he sees you. Completely bare… scratch that, bare except for the frilly little panties tangled around your ankle and his guitar pick bouncing around between the swell of your breasts.

His breath catches in his throat, did you forget that you had invited him over? He can finally get a good look at that tattoo on your thigh by your hip. A fluffy kitten, paws under its chin, all knotted up in baby pink rope, a shibari design, the tail end of the rope clasped in its mouth, golden bell hanging off of it, surrounded by berries and leaves. Cute and innocent but also so very filthy at the same time, his mouth waters at the sight.

You’re sitting atop your large stuffed white tiger, Mr Stripes as he recalls from when you’d spread out all your stuffies introducing them all to him by name, one by one.

You’re thrusting away with abandon, grinding against the tigers back, clutching at the stuffed head in front of you, your head thrown back moaning wantonly. He can hear it even through the glass, then suddenly your eyes are drawn to the window and you spot him, crouched there staring at you slack jawed.

You hop off the tiger eyes lighting up, your panties slip away onto the floor as you bounce over to the window calling out his name. Pushing it open you pull him in with a hand scrunched into the front of his shirt.

He stumbles through the window and you drag him over to sit on the edge of your bed. He grabs for the nearest item to shove into his crotch, hiding his raging erection.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” He gasps.

“Eddie don’t be silly, you know what I’m doing, I was just about to cum when you got here… can I… can I keep going?”

“Bambi, I don’t think I should… we shouldn’t…”

“Please, Eds wanna finish. I want you to watch.” You pout at him

“Fuck… I… ok, yeah you can finish.”

You squeal and kiss the tip of his nose, “Thank you. Now watch, ok… and you don’t need to hide behind Miss Flopsy ya know, I already know you’re hard.”

He glances down at his lap and realises he had in fact grabbed your fluffy, floppy eared bunny, slowly removing it and placing it to the side a little awkwardly.

You hop back on top of the stuffed tiger resuming the roll of your hips and bringing one hand up to tweak at your nipple as you look directly into his eyes. He balls his hands into fists at his knees, clenching and unclenching them, swallowing harshly his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

You moan and whine grinding into the fuzz beneath you, when an idea springs to your mind, “Edddiieee… can you take your cock out for me, please? Wanna watch you touching yourself when I cum.”

He splutters and chokes at your words, hesitating before he responds, despite everything in him screaming to do exactly what you just asked for, “Are you sure? Like really, really sure?”

You pout at him, “Yes Eds, I told you I’m not as innocent as everyone thinks I am, ok. Please I want this.”

“And you’re not just doing this to prove a point right? I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.”

“No, Eddie please just let me watch you, let me give you a show.”

His hands fumble at his belt as he breaths out heavily, “Jesus Christ Bambi, where is all this coming from?”

“Hurry up Eds, need to see you, ‘m so close.”

He hurriedly pulls his cock free of its confines, his wet tip glistens and you gasp at the sight, “Yes Eddie, thank you.”

His hand glides up and down his length with ease, precum already bubbling up at the head adding to the slick shlucking sound that is produced as he fists his cock desperately, he’s almost embarrassed at how close he is already.

You moan encouragingly, “Such a pretty cock, look how pink it is… and shiny. Just wanna suck on it. Bet it’s sweet like a lolly, will you let me taste it?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I’m gonna cum… you gonna cum with me Bambi?”

“God yes! Eddiiieee…” You wail as your hips move to match his pace, the dam inside you breaking and giving way to your body wracking orgasm. Your head thrown back, eyes rolling into your skull, hands digging into the stuffed toy beneath you in a vicelike grip as you ride it out.

“Fuck, y/n.” He groans coating his fist in his release as it sprays all over the blush pink duvet on the bed. He falls back limply, eyes drooping, gasping as he tries to catch his breath.

You pant, chest heaving, as you look at his messy hand still clasped around his cock. You slide off the stuffed toy inching closer to him, you grasp his wrist pulling his hand up to your face. His eyes snap open, looking at you curiously. You lick away his thick, white cream, your tongue laving over each digit, paying extra special attention to his ring-clad fingers. He lets out a guttural moan and you suck his pointer finger all the way into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

He pulls his hand away, gasping “Stop, stop. What are you doing?”

His reaction stings, an awful feeling settling in your belly… you’d done it again, gone too far. Tears well up in your eyes, and you blubber, “S-s-sorry…”

The urge to comfort you overtakes all else and he’s scooping you into his lap, completely forgetting that you’re totally naked, that he’s still got his pants rolled down, cock out. He pulls you against his chest, you press your face into the crook of his neck, shoulders shaking as he rubs your back soothingly.

“Hey, no, no, don’t cry. I should have stopped it sooner. You were too far gone, I should have known better.”

All at once he becomes acutely aware of your wet, puffy folds on top of him, his dick swelling in response… Oh god, no not now, not like this, not when she’s so distraught and crying… fuck… that’s it, he’s done for, he thinks.

“No, I’m sorry… I-I…”You whimper.

“Bambi, talk to me. Tell me how I can make it better.”

“Wh-what…?” You look up at him blinking away tears, “You’re… you’re not mad at me? You don’t think I’m gross?”

“What?! Why on earth would I think that?”

You can’t hold back the weepy tirade, and he lets you blubber on, “W-well my… my last boyfriend he… he couldn’t handle the stuff I was into either… he called me a freak, said he never wanted to see me again… an-and I tried to take it slow, hold back with you.”

You take a big, shaky breath before continuing, “Didn’t wanna scare you o-off too… cause I really, really like you Eds… b-but you’ve barely even tried to touch me li-like that and we’ve been dating for weeks now… I was going crazy, I just had to do something.”

He holds up a hand huffing angrily, “Hold up. First of all, what do you mean ‘scare me off’, who said I can’t handle this? That was hot as fuck. And second of all, who the fuck was that creep, there has got to be something seriously wrong with him… if he-he…”

You cut him off squeezing his shoulder, “Eddie, it’s ok, it’s fine forget about him. Please, tell me why you stopped me. Why do you think we should have stopped sooner?”

“Come on Bambi, why do you think? Look at you always so cute and innocent. I shouldn’t corrupt you like that… I shouldn’t be dragging you down with me like this… turning you into some pervert.”

“Eddie, enough with the ‘cute and innocent’ stuff… and I can feel that, by the way. The way your dick twitched when you talked about ‘corrupting’ me…” You grind down on him and he whimpers hanging his head in shame.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is what I wanted, ok. Wait. Wait here a minute let me show you what I really mean.” You slide out of his grip trotting off into your walk-in wardrobe.

You emerge carrying what you had affectionately dubbed the treasure chest, a moderately sized wooden box that you’d covered in stickers. You’d been dying to do a little show and tell with him, just like you had with all your stuffies. Again, in the interest of not scaring him off you’d held off, but now seemed a good a time as any to really make your point.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“More toys.” You grin at him.

“I thought you showed me all your toys, told me all their names and everything.”

“Yeah, I did show you all those toys, but I didn’t tell you everything about them. Let’s start there, ok? So, you saw me riding Mr. Stripes. He’s one of the best for that, firm but soft and fuzzy. Perfectly shaped cushion to sit on, something to grab on to, it’s like he was made for it.”

“Fuck, yeah saw the way you were bucking against him.” You notice his hand twitching, making slight moves towards his fat dick resting between his thighs.

You nod towards his crotch, “You can keep touching yourself if you want.”

“God, sweetheart I don’t know if I can take much more of this. My poor little heart might just give out. How did you keep all of this hidden away for so long?”

“Told ya didn’t wanna scare you off, I care about you too much Eds. Anyway, Mr. Stripes was my favourite stuffie for a long time, but then you gave me my little Eddie Bear.”

He gasps, hand drifting towards his cock gripping it lazily, “Yeah, uhh huh. I remember Eddie Bear.”

He recalls the day he’d gifted that to you, he’d cut a small hole into the bear and fucked it ‘til he came deep inside. Stitching it up carefully afterwards so you’d never notice.

“And when you did, he smelled just like… you. And then I rode him so much, over and over, just thinking of you. So many times, ‘til he didn’t smell like you anymore. I was a bit sad about that, though.” You lament.

He groans, a rumbling sound deep from his chest, as he continues stroking his throbbing cock, thumbing at the tip, “Yeah, what else? Tell me more, Bambi.”

“Well, sometimes I like to make all the other stuffies watch while I ride one of them, but the really fun toys are in here…” You hold up the chest.

“What’s in there sweetheart, you gonna show me like you did with all your other toys?”

You nod eagerly, placing the box on the bed and take a seat in front of it cross-legged, he chuckles at you, “Um these ones don’t really have names… except one. That one is my absolute favourite! Do you want me to show you that one first?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.” His hand drops to fondle his balls for a moment as you continue.

You swing back the lid of the box on its hinges, holding so it blocks his view of everything inside, “Ok, so I call this my little treasure chest…”

“That’s cute, Bambi, I like that.” He remarks as you shuffle around the box in search of a particular item.

“Ok get ready, this one is called Mr. Flopsy…”

He grins at you, but that falters and his hand moves to squeeze the base of his cock firmly, eyes widening as you pull out a six-inch, translucent pink, sparkly rabbit vibrator, it’s almost the same circumference around as it is long. It’s not the most intimidating one in your collection but it is one of your favourites.

He inhales sharply before groaning out, “God fucking damn! That is not what I was expecting when you said ‘toys’. Jesus H Christ Bambi if you asked me yesterday, I wouldn’t have even thought you knew what one of those was!”

“Well, I do mister, so now do you believe I’m not just little Miss Innocent?”

He nods and hums in a strained way, “Uh huh, yep mm hmm.”

“So, see Mr. Flopsy is my favourite cause he’s all pink and sparkly and look a little bunny… that’s why I call him Mr. Flopsy.” You flick the ears on the toy and Eddie groans in response, just the thought of where those little ears have been drives him wild.

“He might not be the biggest in the collection, but he makes up for it in every other way.”

He resumes stroking along his length, whining, “Please can I see you use Mr. Flopsy?”

“Yeah, you really wanna?” You smile up at him sweetly, eyes lighting up.

“Fuck, absolutely sweetheart. You gonna do it for me?”

“Yes, but not now, there’s still a whole lot more to show you first.”

“Can’t we do that some other time?”

“Nope.” You reply cheekily.

“Ugh, do we have to go one by one though? Can’t you just dump it all out?” He groans frustratedly.

“Ok, I guess… for you, but you’ll have to help me pack up later.” You concede, tipping over the chest and letting everything tumble out.

Piles of rope and collars and nipple clamps and chains and dildos and fuzzy handcuffs, and more, in all shades of pastel colours cascade over the bed. He drops his slick, leaky cock, wiping his hand off along the duvet before rummaging through the pile in front of him. His cock bobs up and down in his lap desperate for attention.

“Oh, this is so much better than anything I could have ever imagined. Who knew you were such a kinky, little…” He pauses abruptly, you can tell he’s holding back.

“Go on Eds, call me dirty names, tell me I’m a kinky, little slut… is that what you were going to say? ‘Cause I’ll be your little slut, all yours, just for you. I’ll be your little present all wrapped up in bows, let you tie me up, split me open on your cock…”

He cuts you off pulling you in by the back of your neck, his lips colliding with your own over the paraphernalia laying beneath you. You break apart breathlessly, whining “Need you Eds, please…”

He rushes to strip off his clothing, tossing his jeans clear across the room in his haste. He glances down into the items scattered before him, in search of something…

“You gonna tie me up?” You ask hopefully.

“Sorry, Bambi not this time…” he spots what he was looking for, “…but I will be using these… if that’s ok?” He holds up a pink, fluffy pair of handcuffs, dangling them off a finger.

“Oh, that is more than ok Eddie.”

“I’m going to guess you’re familiar with the traffic light system, right?”

You nod proudly, “Uh huh, sure am.”

“Good, we’ll use that for now, ok?”

“Ok, Eddie, all green from me.” You offer him your wrists without him even asking.

“Oh, what a good girl you are, but first I’m going to need you to make some room on the bed. Just scoop all of that back into its box and set it on the floor, we can deal with it later…”

You nod mutely and do as you’re told while he continues, “… and you can tell me all about every little thing in there while we do. Your stuffies can stay and watch the show though.” He smirks at you.

Once the bed is clear, you kneel in the centre, resting back on your heels, all your stuffies and flowery, fluffy pillows propped up behind you. You look up at him through your long lashes waiting with baited breath for his next move. He cups your cheek, caressing it with a thumb, “You wanna be my good girl, my good little slut?”

“Y-yes please. Can I… can I call you ‘sir’?”

“Oh, Bambi so precious, so cute… yes, you may call me ‘sir’.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anything for you princess. Now, how would you like to be cuffed… hands behind your back or to your bed frame?”

“To the bed, please.” You scoot back closer to the head of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest and squishing up against the toys and pillows.

“Such good manners. Did your mummy and daddy teach you that? Are they home now?” Coming up beside you he guides your hands one at a time, first closing a fluffy cuff around one wrist, then looping it through the bed frame and cuffing the other hand.

You shake your head, sinking down into the mattress your legs falling open, “Nuh uh, they’ve gone out. Won’t be home for hours.”

He moves to rest between your spread legs, humming in your ear, a finger brushing stray wisps of hair away from your face. “Hmmm, that’s strange why did you tell me to come in through the backyard then? Why’d you ask me not to use the door?”

“‘Cause… ‘cause I wanted you to catch me, thought maybe if you did…” You trail off distracted by his breath heating the side of your face.

Drawing back slightly he questions, “What did you think sweetheart? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to control myself? That I’d just take you right there as soon as I saw you?”

“Maybe… something a little like that.” You admit shyly.

“Well, aren’t you lucky then, that worked out quite nicely for you, didn’t it? I think it was very naughty though, don’t you?” He teases with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Sir?”

“I think someone needs to be… punished.” He proceeds cautiously.

“No, sir please I’ll be good. I’m your good girl remember.”

He gives you a slightly concerned look, “Colour?”

You grin back at him, “Green, sir.”

He runs a hand over your thigh, you shiver in response squeezing your legs together around him, “Ok, I have an idea… maybe more of a fun punishment. How’s that?”

“O-ok.” You agree shakily.

He continues “Well, since you decided to tease me with Mr. Flopsy, how about I use him on you… but you’re not allowed to cum.”

You pout, “Aww, that’s not fair.”

“Ah, ah, thought you said you were going to be my good girl?” He tuts at you, “The next time you cum I want that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. Want you to get it all wet and sloppy for me.”

“I-I can do that for you.” You assure him breathily.

“I know, just wait right there for me while I find Mr. Flopsy.” He leans over the edge of the bed and riffles through the ‘treasure chest’.

You giggle, jiggling the cuffs around your wrist, “I can’t go anywhere Eds.”

“Ha got it!” He pulls out the toy holding it up proudly, before fiddling with the buttons on its base.

You’re practically shivering with anticipation as he cycles through the settings getting familiar with it. When he finds the button that makes the shaft thrust back and forth, with a gasp his head snaps to you, “I didn’t know it did that!”

You smirk at him, “Yeah, it’s good, isn’t it?”

“Why, don’t we see just how good it is, sweetheart?” He turns off the vibrations and the thrusting tip before making his way back to you. He trails the toy over your body slowly, lingering when he brings it up between your breasts alongside his guitar pick.

He looks up into your eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, “Why don’t you start by getting Mr. Flopsy all nice and wet for me with your mouth?”

You nod in agreement and he holds the toy against your lips, they part. You lick up and down the shaft, letting your drool dribble all over it before wrapping your lips around the tip giving it a suck.

He groans in response as you try to take more of the shaft into your mouth. He pulls the toy away, “I think that’s enough now, are you still trying to tease me? Still being a naughty girl?”

You shake your head, “No just… just like having something to suck on. It feels good for me too… really like sucking on dick… ‘s like a little treat, like a lollipop, but better.”

“Fuuuuck, baby we are going to have to explore that a whole lot more soon-”

You interrupt him eagerly adding, “Balls! I like balls too! Wanna worship every inch of you Eds.”

A strangled groan escapes his lips, he grits his teeth, “God you really are gonna give me a heart attack ya know.”

“How’re… how’re you doing Eds?” You ask, checking in with him too.

“Oh, I’m green. I’m so fucking green I’m an emerald, ‘bout as hard as one too.”

You giggle at the comparison, “Well, come on let’s get to my… funishment then.”

“Oh, little princess thinks she can give orders now. Well, you’ll soon learn to be careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

He takes the slobbery toy and runs it through your folds, prodding at your clit a few times before turning it on. The vibrations start out gentle as he continues his motions, slowly he begins easing the toy into your slick entrance. You gasp at the intrusion, sighing as he eases it in further and further. The little rabbit ears press into your clit and he starts the vibrations on those to.

“Oh, Eddie feels so good.” You whine.

“Remember no cumming on your toy this time.” He warns.

“I promise Eds, I’ll be good.”

He groans along with you and increases the intensity of the vibrations, “Let me know when you’re close ok?”

“Yes, sir,”

He gives an experimental thrust with the toy gauging your reaction, your wrists pull on their restraints and you moan. He ups the intensity yet again before remembering the thrusting feature, he pushes the toy all the way in and you feel your wetness flood around it.

He starts the thrusting action of the toy then waves his hands around grinning, “Look Bambi, no hands.”

Your giggle turns into a broken moan as he increases the speed of the thrusting toy inside you. His hands moving to cup your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your hips begin to raise off the mattress, attempting to match the movements of the toy buzzing away inside you. You gasp, “Please, sir… please, please, please. I’m so close…”

And then all at once all sensation is gone, ripped away from you right at the precipice as he removes the toy. You whine at the loss, hips still bucking away in search of more.

“Oh, I know, I know…” He coos down at you, pressing your hips back down into the mattress.

“Fuck… Eddie, please I need you. Please fuck me.”

“If only I knew what a little slut you really were, we could’ve been doing this ages ago, you know that right?” He switches off the toy and licks it clean of your juices before dropping it down on the bed beside you.

You whimper beneath him, “Yes, sir I know. ‘m sorry I made you wait. Please I need you now, we can make up for all the lost time.”

“Oh, my pretty little princess, we will be making up for it…” he growls before guiding his slick cock into your wet heat. He slams in all at once. The toy is nothing compared to him and his impressive length, but the preparation and all your arousal is enough to have him sliding in with ease.

He rests there for a moment gazing down at you, before checking in breathlessly, “You… hmmm… you good down there?”

You look up at him nodding, “… mhmmmm… perfect Eds, green.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s pulling his hips back and slamming into you once more. “Don’t… don’t know if I’ll be able to last long… ya got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He manages to pant out. Head hanging forward his hair flopping into his face as he braces himself with his hands on the bed frame by your own.

“I-I think I have some idea… hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweetheart? You still good?”

“Yep, just… hngh… just… can you cum inside me, please?”

His hips stutter and he groans, “God fucking damn, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You look up at him desperate and needy, “Please, sir. Please, wan’ it nice and deep.”

“Fuuuuck… shit yeah, yeah gonna cum soon. Gonna give it all to you.”

You strain at the cuffs in a pathetic attempt to grab a hold of something… tug on his long hair that dangles in his face, crumple the sheets, squeeze your stuffies, a pillow… anything. Instead, you wrap your legs around him, drawing him in deeper mewling desperately with each thrust.

“Are you close?” He pants above you.

“So close Eds, so close… you gonna cum with me when I soak that perfect cock of yours?”

He lets out the most hopeless, pathetic whine, “God… fuck… yes, yes, yes…”

He grabs the discarded vibrator turning it on and pressing it into your clit sending you into orbit, you pulse around him rhythmically, gushing all over his length with a scream and call out his name.

It doesn’t take long for him either, the feeling of you clamping down around him, the added vibrations from the toy. He unloads into you with a cry of his own. The feel of his warm, thick cum painting your walls only prolongs the sensation for you. When he slides his dick out, your combined fluids dribble out, running between your cheeks and pooling on the bed beneath you.

He’s still holding the toy against you as you tremble with aftershocks, “S-stop, ‘m sensitive Eds, please.” You gasp out.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He grins sheepishly, removing the toy, turning it off and tossing it aside.

He hooks a finger into the chain linking your cuffs, “Keys?”

“Bedside table. Top drawer. They’re pink.”

“Of course they are.” He chuckles and leans over to retrieve the keys.

He undoes the restraints and rubs at your wrists soothingly before scooping you up into his arms and manoeuvring you to lay against his chest.

His fingers trail along the chain draped over your neck, settling on the guitar pick, toying with it, “So, you kept this on, huh?”

“Yeah, uh it’s… it’s kinda like a collar in a way, but… more. More personal. More special. Been wearing it more than my actual collars now. More than any pretty little ribbon too.”

He gives it a gentle tug and you whine in response.

“You like wearing it, like it’s your own little special collar showing everyone who you belong to?”

“Yes Eds, God yes.” You breath out, pausing for a beat before asking hopefully, “What about you, do you still have the ribbon I gave you?”

“I could never part with my lady’s favour.” He declares, spinning the bracelet around his wrist to show the chain side where he’d woven the ribbon through the links.

You reach down running your fingertips over it, overwhelmed by your emotions, it has you blurting out, “I love you, Eddie.”

He sighs, “I love you too.”

“Do you think after we clean up, we can go for milkshakes?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart... with whipped cream and extra cherries too.”

You squeal in delight, “Thank you, Eddie! Best boyfriend ever!”

He pulls you in for a lingering kiss, before pulling away whispering, “Alright, then better get up if we’re gonna get to the diner.”

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie x innocent!reader #eddie x innocent!reader #perv!eddie munson #eddie x girly!reader #perv!eddie x girly!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x bambi

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joshlmbrt · 4 months

Note

hi angel, im so excited to read your stories :)

would love to make an angsty Steve x reader request. im forever such a Steve Harrington girl 🥹

an angsty enemies (more like rivals) to lovers. they get roped into the upside down things together, and their mutual love for the kids really brings them together. over the seasons they get closer and closer, silently falling in love. then towards the end, something happens and they all get separated.. and they all think she’s dead? until they’re somehow reunited and realize she’s okay? and Steve’s just a wreck, completely inconsolable thinking that she’s gone. and even more of a mess when he finds out she’s alive?

…or is that stupid… 🥲🥲

Angsty Teens. ( s. harrington x reader )

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; enemies to lovers!!!!, canon compliant, r is dustin’s sibling, r makes a joke about a father leaving during the middle of the night, dustin & erica gets TIRED ( robin enjoys the banter ), they think r is dead, blood, long over-due kissy kiss, sort of changed it a bit - i hope that’s okay! NO ONE DIES! i don’t think there is any use of pronouns, but if there is, let me know!

【𝜗𝜚 an; oh, oh, this is NOT stupid AT ALL!!!! ( no request is ever stupid! ) i was just gonna do 1-3 but then …. i rethought and decided to do all four. i hope you enjoy and this is what you had in mind!!

1983

There’s something about Steve Harrington - Steve ‘King’ Harrington as many people loved to call him - that you hated.

You weren’t for sure what caused this deep hatred. Maybe it was the many girls who he kept wrapped around his finger and he just messed with them, loved to parade it around.

‘Look at me! I have someone, and you don’t!’

Or maybe it was the fact that he used to be your friend and completely ditched you for Thomas Hagan and Carol Michaels.

“Your face is going to get stuck like that.” Eddie notes out loud, a small smirk on his face as he watches your face scrunch up in disgusted as the boy walks past with his goons and the girl of the month.

Nancy Wheeler.

Pretty. Pristine. Good grades. Never in trouble.

Her poor friend Barbra Holland - also known as Barb - was following behind quietly, books tucked close to her chest.

“Shut up,” You grumble to Eddie, slamming the locker door shut. “Hey, Barb!” You wave, giving her a kind smile.

Her head towards yours, waving with a small smile. She continues to follow behind Nancy.

You sigh. “I don’t get why he goes from girl to girl.”

“Well, he seems pretty serious about her.” Eddie shrugs, walking out with you.

“He seemed serious with Vanessa, Tiffany, Erica, Monica, and-”

Eddie clasps a hand over your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Okay. Okay,” He breathes, removing his hand. “I think I know why you feel this way.”

“What way?” You open the passenger door to Eddie’s van and slips in. He shuts the door for you, jogging to the other side.

He opens the door. “Jealous.”

You sputter on words. “What?! Me? Jealous? You cannot be serious!”

He slips into the car, shutting his door. “You had a small crush on Stevie boy and then - boom - he suddenly gets popular overnight with his big hair and nice polos.”

“Okay, first,” You hold up an index finger. “Gag me with a spoon. Secondly, I am not jealous. I could care less who Steve Harrington dates. He’s just. . . a boy.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I just hate that he leads everyone one, making them think he cares for them, then - bam - he’s gone like a father who leaves in the middle of the night.”

He purses his lips and squints his eyes at you. “I feel like you just related Steve to your father.”

“I did.”

He hums, nodding and turning in his seat. “Alrighty, then.”

ও

NOVEMBER 24TH 1983

There’s a knocking on the door that causes you to flinch and Nancy turn quickly, high on alert.

You’d never guess you’d be fighting faceless monsters with your brother and his small friends, plus Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers.

“You don’t think they knock, do you?” You breathe out, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple.

“Jonathan! It’s me, Steve! I just- I’m not looking to cause any trouble, I just wanted-” Nancy is marching towards the door, opening it only a crack. His bruised face is confused when he sees the girl. “Nance? What-what are you doing here?”

“You need to leave.” Is all she says.

His eyes dart over her face, shaking his head. “What are you doing here? What happened to your hand?” His eyes peek over her head and you gulp once they land on your face. “What’s she doing here? What’s going on?”

He pushes his way in, stumbling a bit. He stands straighter, eyes moving over all the lights in the home.

“What is all this? What’s-”

“Steve,” Nancy says, catching his attention. He looks over at her, holding his hands up quickly.

You quickly step in front of Steve without thinking. “Nancy, what are you-” She cuts you off.

“You need to leave. And now.”

“Nancy.”

“I don’t understand what is going on! You all are acting craz-"

“Nancy!” Jonathan finally catches the attention of you all, he places his finger on his lips. “Listen.” He whispers.

Everyone goes silent, eyes lifting towards the roof.

“This is crazy. . .” Steve whispers to himself. “This is crazy! This is crazy!”

He rushes towards phone, picking it up. Nancy yanks it from his hold, slamming it back down. “Leave. Now. While you have the chance.”

And of course, Steve leaves, the door slamming behind him.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

The lights cut off, before flickering. You freeze, eyes darting around.

“Nancy!” You call out. “I can’t see anything! What’s-” A scream leaves your lips, your legs getting lifting from the ground, the blood flowing down to your head quickly.

“Oh, my god! Oh, no! Please! I don’t want to die!” You didn’t feel like you were going to die, but. . . with these things? You never know.

Your dropped onto your back, your breath being knocked from your lungs. A hand grips your shoulder pulling you up.

“Come on!” A voice eerily similar to Steve yells out. You check over your shoulder, before heat suddenly licks up your body.

You flinch back from the fire, staring down at the flames.

“Do you think it’s dead?” Nancy whispers. Jonathan steps forward, her hand shooting out quickly to grab at his arm.

“I’m just checking.” He says. She nods hesitantly, dropping her hand. He kneels down in front of the trap, watching it bubble.

“I think it’s dead.”

ও

Dustin’s head was laid over on left your shoulder, Lucas’ head occupied your right shoulder. Your arms were fuzzy but you weren’t going to complain.

Happy Will was alright and all the kids were fine. . . besides the poor girl who had grown on you.

Jonathan steps into the room, a small smile on his face. “Guys,” Mike was the only one away, slapping at Dustin’s arm. “Will’s awake.”

Mike stands from the seat, slapping both their shoulders now. You laugh softly, shaking your head as both of them startle awake.

“Come on! Will’s awake!” Mike cheers. Dustin grins, shooting up from his seat, Lucas following behind him down the hall to his room.

You’d go visit him later, allowing the boys to have their own time.

You stand from the seat, yawning as you walk towards the water machine, grabbing a small paper cup and filling it.

“Uh,” There’s a throat clearing behind you and you turn around. Steve Harrington. “Thanks for. . . not letting Nancy shoot me.”

“That’s only because I want to,” You shrug. “Not to help you.”

Lies. It’s still in your nature to care for your old friends and it’s tiring. Especially when they wouldn’t do the same for you.

Except, Steve had taken care of you. Made sure you weren’t eaten.

His lip quirks at the corner and he nods. “Right.”

You nod, lifting the cup to your lips, chugging it all. He nods a bit again, turning and making his way towards the door.

“Uh,” You wipe the corner of your lip off. You watch as he stops and turns towards you. “Thanks, too. I guess. For, uh, saving me?”

He nods and smiles a bit. “Anytime.”

ও

1984

You curse yourself for feeling bad for Steve as he watches Nancy stand next to Jonathan, her hand placed on his head.

He steps towards the back door, sitting down on the small step. You sigh a bit, looking out the window above the sink.

“Go talk to him,” There’s a nudge at your side. You turn and look at Dustin. “You know you want too.” He grins.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want too,” You grumble, turning away and resting your back on the counter. “Why did you even get Steve in the first place?”

He squints his eyes at you. “You were on a date.”

“So? Couldn’t you have called someone else?”

“He was just there,” He says. “Literally.”

You let out a sigh, looking at your chipped polish. “I come home to you and Steve chopping up cubes of steak. It was weird.”

He rolls his eyes. “Go. He’s. . . he needs a friend.”

“You both are friends now,” You lift a brow at him. “Why can’t you go talk to him?”

“Because you know him better than me,” He shrugs. “Than anyone really. Weren’t you both best friends?”

“Key word: were. We aren’t anymore.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you know him better than anyone.”

You frown - because Dustin is right. The little brother who you had taught to be nice to everyone, kill them wiyh kindness even, was giving you the same talk you’d give to him if it was between him and one of his friends.

You sigh and push yourself off the counter. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to listen to you all the time just because I do this one time.”

He grins cheekily at you, despite all that has happened tonight, and makes his way towards the table and sits down.

You inhale deeply before exhaling, stepping outside now. You shut the door, stepping next to Steve and placing yourself next to him.

You stay quiet, eyes staring at the small building in the back.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know?”

Your head reels back at the bite in his tone, a frown on your face as you turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You rub your lips together, wanting to keep everything in.

“Just because your girlfriend doesn’t care about you anymore, doesn’t mean you can just snap at other people. It’s not an excuse,” You snap back. It was a low blow, really. Especially after learning what actually happened at the Halloween party. You stand from your seat.

“You are not going to speak to me that way. I won’t allow it. I came out here to see if you were okay, but. . . I can see that was clearly a mistake. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Your cheeks are flushed red with anger and you walk past him, your dress hitting your thighs as you make your way towards the back door. He calls out your name, but you don’t stop and listen to him.

You shut the door.

ও

1985

Your head slams into the metal wall, a groan leaving your lips. “Booby trap.” You whisper to yourself.

“What?” Dustin murmured.

You stand slowly from the floor. Dustin stands next to you. “The canisters that Steve pulled out was a booby trap,” You narrow your eyes on him. “Why would you do that?!” You throw your arms up.

“Do you think I meant for us to get stuck down here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Because you never think!”

“Like I wanted to get stuck on an elevator with you!”

“Oh yeah?” Your brows furrow. “I had a date after this and now I won’t be able to go! Because of you pulling out that stupid canister! I mean, really?! Who pulls something out of a box that comes from Russians?!”

Erica leans towards Dustin. “Oh, they hate each other.” She whispers.

Dustin shakes his head, Robin does as well. “No, they don’t.”

“It’s the angsty teen, enemies to lovers plot.” Robin whispers, fingers giddily fiddling together. Erica furrows her brows. Robin cuts her eyes over to the confused girl. She then quickly looks back. “You’ll understand when you read Pride and Prejudice.”

“Pride and what?”

“Prejudice. It’s a-" Robin looks at Erica who has a brow lifted. She stops, lips rubbing together. “I don’t have time to describe it.”

Erica hums, turning towards you and Steve once again. “You know what,” You grumble. “I’m through with arguing with you! You never change!” You throw your arms up, stepping towards the center of the room.

“Dustin,” You say his name. He’s standing next to you in an instant. “Help me up there. I’m going to see if we can climb our way out of this. . . this literal hell. Especially if it has him in it.” He nods and pulls a chair over. You step on top of it, reaching up and pushing the tile up and over. You grip the sides, grunting as you pull yourself up.

You slide back before standing up, pushing your hair back as you stare up, hands on your hips.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You’re all stuck there.

ও

Your forehead is resting on your knees, eyes closed as you rest on top of the elevator.

It had been quiet the whole time, Dustin trying to get ahold of anyone. But of course, no one was answering.

You almost cry at the feeling of being stuck.

You feel someone’s knee bump into yours, and you know who it is before they even speak.

“Are you, uh, okay?”

You huff out a small laugh. “Oh, yeah,” You nod, lifting up your head. “Perfect. I love being stuck in an elevator with no way out.”

He looks down, fingers intertwining together. “It is my fault. I’m sorry.”

You sigh a bit, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault,” It pains you to say it, but it’s right. It’s not his fault that he pulled out a canister filled with mystery green goop. “We just know now that Russians can’t build elevators now.”

He snorts. “That’s exactly what I said.” You smile a bit.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean what I said,” You let out a sigh. “I was just. . . angry.”

He nods a bit. “I understand,” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I promise to listen to you next time.”

You lift a brow. “Oh, that’s going to be so hard for you, Harrington.”

He nods and scoffs. “Definitely.” You give him a small smile.

Your heart feels a bit warm at the interaction.

ও

1986.

“Steve!” Dustin cries out, his knees digging into the unnatural ground. “She’s. . . She’s not waking up!”

Steve drops the bags, Nancy almost stumbling over the thing before coming to a stop. He jogs over, dropping to his knees.

The color had drained slightly causing Steve to worry. “Okay, move.” He pushes at Dustin’s hands. Dustin looks up at him with a worried express, tears falling down his cheeks and onto your shirt.

“What are you going to do?”

“CPR.” He nods, his hands moving onto your chest.

“You-you know how to do CPR?” Dustin’s voice wavers. Steve nods, huffing as he mutters numbers. He leans down over your mouth.

He lifts back up, pumping once again. After four times, tilts your head back, unhinging your jaw more. His lips press to yours, blowing into your mouth.

Dustin’s eyes dart between you both, eyes wide with worry. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie stand behind him watching.

There’s a deep greedy inhale that has Steve pulling back, allowing you to breath in the air. He pulls you up, hand pushing back your hair.

“Hey, hey. . . God,” He mutters to himself. His hand trails down your back. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Dustin throws his arms around your neck. You wrap an arm around his side, patting his back. “Steve saved you.”

“What?” You pull back.

“I didn’t.” Steve quickly denies, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie shakes his head. “You absolutely did.”

“No, I-”

“Could everyone give Steve and I a minute please?”

Everyone’s eyes dart to you. “You’re not gonna kill him are you? We just literally survived this whole thing.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. Now please, give me a minute alone with Steve.” They nod, making their way towards the trailer.

“Look, I’m sorry about mouth to mouth. I had too, you were-"

“Steve,” You cut him off. “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“Why would I be mad about you saving me?”

“Because you. . . hate me?”

You let out a small sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“I did,” You say. “But not anymore.”

He smiles a bit, pushing some of the strands of hair that had fallen back to your face. “I’m glad.”

You stare up at him quietly, moving to your knees in front of him. He gulps slightly.

You press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, hands moving up to cup his face. “Thanks for saving me.”

His own hands press to yours on his cheeks. “Anytime.”

You grin and lean in again, pressing your lips fully to his this time. He gladly allows you.

Robin grins as she peeks through the window with Dustin.

She leans closer. “Told you.” She whispers.

Dustin makes a face and looks over at her. “Told me what?”

“Pride and Prejudice, my tiny friend.”

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, feedback, likes, & reblogs are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!ও

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #joe keery x reader

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budbuddnbuddy · 4 months

Text

Little obey me headcanons (Pt 1)

(Pt2)

A/n:Just things I think the obey me characters would do/ think/like along with worldbuilding stuff. Nothing too major, but there’s also some suggestive stuff so look out for that. Sorry for not posting in a while school sucks. :(

After seeing all the happy endings in fairytale books and stories or just anything in general, Satan commonly thinks of having a “Happily ever after.” with MC.

While Belphegor, has no ass or tits he does have some cute thighs, when it’s warm in the devildom the chances of you seeing him lounging about the house in booty shorts and thigh highs are up by 70%

The celestial realm and the Devildom are super behind when it comes to technology, while the Devildom is catching up it’s still all over the place, so when MC brings up the moon landings or anything about humans going into space they’re gonna think that you’re joking…..until you show them proof.

“Wow, you really weren’t lying when you said that humans actually made it to the moon.”

“I told you! I’m sure if we get some people who work in NASA down here, we’ll probably be able to go to the moon in the Devildom too.”

“…the fuck is a NASA?”

I’m a firm believer that there is someone out in the human world, wether it be a family member or friend or coworker, SOMEONE was looking for MC when they were first summoned. Argue with me all you want but you will not be able to convince me that one day their boss wasn’t like: “MC hasn’t come into work in like a week.” other people can care about them too >:(

Asmodeus has definitely given some Devildom skincare products to MC. Whether they make you look inhumanly glamorous or burn off half your face is up to you.

There’s BARELY any public transportation in the devildom, no buses, cabs, airplanes or anything like that. You want to get somewhere without driving? Put on some comfortable shoes cause you’re gonna have to WALK.

However Diavolo does send chauffeurs (or carriages if it’s a royal/political event) to nobles and the brothers to get to the castle or if they’re just going somewhere with him. Which is how you guys got to the castle for the 3 day retreat.

You know those pics from hidden paparazzi or fans of celebrity couples out together on a date or walking around holding hands? There’s like a bunch of them with you and the characters in the Devildom. Most common ones to see with you are: Mammon, Beel ,Belphie, Asmo. The ones on the rarer side are: Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo, Simeon, and Solomon. The ultra rare ones are: Barbatos and Leviathan (but both for very separate different reasons)

There’s been a major skyrocket in human attraction, not just in the Devildom but a bit in the Celestial realm too, I guess Simeon was eyeing and twirling his hair at you a little too much for the angels to contain their curiosity. Hehe.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me!#obey me #obey me diavolo #mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me x mc #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me belphagor #om! shall we date #Simeon is so baby girl

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dilf-lover99 · 2 years

Text

6:52 | B.L. / S.M.

Pairings: Billy Loomis x Female Reader, Stu Macher x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is the daughter of an FBI profiler and childhood best friends with Billy and Stu. When a killer starts terrorizing her friends she has to choose between following her head or her heart.

Warnings: death, blood, stabbing, violence, swearing, manipulation, kissing, major character death (deviation from cannon), mommy issues, reader is smart but a little naive, ending is open to interpretation

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: happy halloween !! i know it's been a while but hopefully this long ass story makes up for it. please don't cancel me for this, i'm not immune to the charm of a 25 year old slasher film. let me know what you think !

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

According to some remarkably arbitrary article you skimmed through in a mediocre issue of Teen Beat, it takes the average person six minutes and fifty-two seconds to determine which movie they’re going to watch.

In six minutes and fifty-two seconds you can brew half a pot of particularly unpalatable coffee in your kitchen. You can listen to your favourite Jeff Buckley song with eight seconds to spare, or drain a teeming glass of water.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds is also the precise duration of time in which you’ve managed to evade the knife-wielding psychopath who’s killing your friends for sport.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

Now here you stand in Stu Macher’s kitchen, explicitly parallel to the masked executioner, dread trickling deliberately throughout your body, dancing delicately up the incurvation of your spine.

Panic and confusion mingle together earnestly inside as you notice the killer stop before you, scarcely within arm’s reach. He tilts his disguised head at you slowly, almost as though he’s confounded that an armed maniac has been chasing you around the Macher house for the last few minutes.

“Hey...” He murmurs with a strangely familiar resonance, “I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, Doll.”

Your expeditious breathing slows to a halt. Your face, previously adorned in confusion, is now painted with discouragement as you place who the voice belongs to.

No, you didn’t want to be right. Not this time.

A second unmasked figure appears behind him, holding a horrified and misty-eyed Sydney Prescott in his gangly arms.

“Well,” he draws out with a blinding smile, voice dripping with lunacy, “How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?”

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds, you think to yourself indignantly, what a fucking joke.

You were decidedly not a morning person.

This is your first thought, a routinely reoccurring thought at that, as you move to swiftly silence the shrill reverberations of your alarm clock. There’s a distinct lack of routine to your mornings, though you consider it a win in itself being awake before school starts.

You gradually make your way downstairs, adorning an oversized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt and the first clean pair of jeans you see, offhandedly reminding yourself to do your laundry.

The house is forebodingly silent, you should’ve long since become accustomed to that. Still you can’t help the acrimonious look you aim toward the note sitting on your kitchen counter, rereading it for the umpteenth time before grabbing yourself some breakfast.

Had to leave town for a case, left you some money for food. Call you when I can - Love Dad

At least he left a note this time you think to yourself despondently.

You don’t blame him for not sticking around, god knows your mom couldn’t either. But at least when she left it was for good. She didn’t resurface every few weeks and pretend to know what was going on in your life, vowing to be more present if given the chance, only to leave the next time a murder happened in some backwater town five thousand miles away from the daughter she swore to stick around for. No, that was all your dad.

You used to admire him, ironically enough. Solving murders and catching the bad guys, he used to be your hero. You and your mom used to allocate hours each day waiting zealously by the phone to hear of his adventures. In the course of time your mom got tired of waiting for your dad to call, eventually she just got tired of him in general. She got tired of you in general.

You never faulted your dad for her desertion, how could you? She left him too. Though you did follow her lead in straying from your perch aside the phone. These days it never rang anyhow.

The sharp honking of a car horn redirects your attention from your melancholic reverie, you grab your bag and set the home alarm before locking the door behind you, grateful for the excuse to be anywhere but your empty house.

“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning?” Stu’s voice sounds from the passenger seat of Billy’s car as you smoothly slide into the back.

“What’s ‘a matter? You’re not all freaked about the killer are you?” He questions, turning his lanky body around in the seat so that he’s facing you, his wide dopey grin now on full display.

Right, the killer.

It’s the only story currently circulating on the Woodsboro news, plastered on the cover of every tabloid, not to mention it’s virtually the only thing your friends seem to talk about since it happened.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve Orth were brutally murdered, their remains remorselessly strung up like Christmas ornaments. It should have made you sick to your stomach. But after all the gory photos you’d seen hanging on the cork board in your dad’s office, you couldn’t help the twisted tinge of curiosity that swirled about in your brain. Who did this? Your FBI profiler dad, who specializes in capturing people that commit violent crimes, sure picked a great time to be out of state for work.

“No, but I’m super glad that you always find a way to bring it up. Very well adjusted of you.” You retort with a gentle smile, as you buckle your seatbelt, instantly feeling better at the mere sight of your two best friends.

“Ah, come on. You know we’d never let anything happen t’you. Right, Billy?” He nudges his elbow at Billy, awaiting his agreeance.

“Course not.” Billy states, his voice is gentle but his tone is stern, and you don’t miss the indicative look he flashes Stu. What’s all that about?

“O..kay then.” You make it a point to remember that look. It’s peculiarly akin to the look he gave Stu at the fountain the other morning.

“I didn’t kill anybody” Stu abruptly defended.

“No one’s saying you did.” Billy shot Stu an ominous look of warning.

What the hell are those two idiots hiding?

“My knights in shining armour, truly. However could I repay you?” You deadpan sarcastically, coming to the conclusion that there is definitely something going on. You’re always right about these things. Whatever it is, you’re going to figure it out eventually.

You’ve known Billy and Stu since elementary school, they can’t hide things from you. At least Stu can’t. His facade will shatter like glass if you look up at him with big eyes and an amiable smile. Billy on the other hand, had spent copious amounts of time with you sifting through your father’s research when you were kids, which gave him the invaluable knowledge of how to get away with lying. That and his prodigious poker face.

“Well- And I’m so glad you asked, there’s actually a super easy way to do that. Wouldn’t take too long either-” You don’t even need to look at Stu to know this is another one of his empty-headed innuendos for sex.

“Wouldn’t take too long is right. At least that’s what Tate told me. You might wanna work on that.” You tease, gently squeezing his arm in mock sympathy.

Billy lets out a modest chuckle of approval at your childish rebuttal, sending you a wink in the rear-view mirror when he catches your smile growing at the sound.

You try to ignore the hastening uptick of your pulse at the simple action. He has a girlfriend, you remind yourself remorsefully, he’s your best friend and that’s all.

“Oh really? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” Stu’s resplendent crystal eyes hold an edge of irritation, but before you can discern the connotation of it, they’re overtaken by the playful mischief you’re certain is a permanent fixture in them.

“Speaking of this whole killer business,” You swiftly steer the subject back, aware of your best friends’ infatuation with the topic, “How’s Sid holding up?”

Of all your friends, the killings had the strongest emotional impact on Sidney. When taken into account that the same thing happened to her mom almost exactly a year ago, it’s something of a wonder that she’s showing up to school at all.

Though Cotton Weary was tried and convicted for the murder of Sidney’s mother, you and your dad always shared a covert belief that somebody else was to blame. When you combed through the evidence, albeit evidence you weren’t legally allowed to see, something felt off about it all. Your dad agreed, stating as much to the local police who were less than receptive of his findings. In essence, they told him to fuck off, that they’d closed the case without the help of the FBI.

You never wavered on your belief that the true perpetrator escaped undetected, and now with the same m.o. being used to kill Casey and Steve, you’re adamant that these cases are connected. Of course you’ve kept this ideology to yourself, not wishing to dredge up any more pain for Sid, the poor girl’s already been through more than her fair share of it.

“More frigid than usual I bet. If that’s even possible.” Stu jokes incautiously.

Billy swats Stu firmly in the chest, glancing at you in the mirror again as Stu lets out a minor yelp, “She’s not so good. I tried to make her feel better, but you know how I am with that sort of stuff” he says unhurriedly.

Unfortunately I do, you think to yourself. Of all the things you love about Billy, patience and understanding are not exactly the top contenders. You imagine his version of consoling Sid ended with her feeling worse.

“At least you tried. That counts for something.” You add optimistically, already preparing to check in with Sid the first chance you get.

“I’m not sure it does,” His eyes are surveying your every feature through the rearview mirror and you’re becoming acutely aware that he’s barely spared a glance at the road since he started driving, you being the sole focus of his attention, “Not with her anyway,” He mumbles out the last part but you manage to piece it together inquisitively.

If you were thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect, you’d have picked up on the nuance of his words and the uncharacteristic benevolence of his gaze. You’d have pieced together sooner that you actually had a chance with Billy Loomis.

The trajectory of your life, the lives of your friends, could have been exponentially juxtaposed if you had only continued to prioritize your mind above your heart.

“Fuck!” Oh god, oh god, oh fuck! Not the most eloquent thoughts in the world, but they’re about all you’ve got since you caught sight of the menacing masked figure jumping onto Sidney, armed with a particularly sharp-edged blade.

You’re vehemently regretting tagging along to what was initially intended to be a girls night with Tatum and Sid.

“Safety in numbers,” Tatum smiled impishly, tugging on your arm in that way she does when she wants something bad enough, “Besides, your dad’s gone too! You and Sid would be much safer at my place.” She brought up a valid point. Although you weren’t as unnerved as your friends at the prospect of being murdered, your strong distaste for spending another night alone in your house was enough for you to give in to your friend’s wishes.

“Alright. I’ll come. But no cheesy rom-coms, we’re watching Seven.” You conceded sooner than Tatum expected. She had a whole speech about the sanctity of friendship planned, but she intended to save it for another time.

“You’ll have to convince Sid. You know how she feels about horror movies.”

“I also know how she feels about Brad Pitt,” You teased with a grin, earning an emphatic giggle from Tatum, “Besides, it’s a thriller not a horror. Randy would die just to roll over in his grave if he heard you right now.”

The plan was to go back to your houses separately and grab your things, Tatum would pick you each up on her way home from practice. The plan changed after you observed Sidney throughout the day. You could tell she was jittery and nervous, despite her fruitless attempts at covering it up, so you went straight to her house together after school.

The two of you briskly passed out on opposite ends of the couch, only awoken by the piercing ring of Sid’s telephone. “Tate’s gonna be a while, she got held up at practice.” Sid relayed the message to you, gingerly rubbing the evidence of sleep from her eyes.

You nodded in understanding, moving from your previous position on the couch and deftly stretching the tender muscles in your back.

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?” You asked Sid as the phone resumed ringing, she shook her head no with a comfortable smile and answered the call as you walked toward the kitchen and out of ear shot.

You moved around the kitchen with an air of familiarity, taking your time filling the glass. Your walk back to Sidney turned into a swift jog, confusion and mild alarm made their presence known on your face as you heard her yell “Fuck you, cretin!” into the phone with conviction.

“Sid- Hey, what’s going on?” You moved to comfort her frenzied form, taking over for her shaking hands you swiftly locked the chain on her front door.

“The killer- He… Oh my god!” Her frenetic speech died a merciless death on her lips as she heard the door of her hall closet swing open. Before either of you could register what was happening, the killer was on top of her.

“Fuck!” Sid yelps, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape from the masked lunatic’s grip.

You froze for a moment back there, you aren’t proud of it. All the self-defence lessons and step-by-step protocols for how to survive in a dangerous situation seemed to have vanished from your mind. But now you can hear his voice in your head, stern but compassionately reassuring like it always was, “C’mon (y/n), this is life or death. As much as I wish I could, I can’t always be here with a gun and a vest to protect you. So come on, how are you gonna fight back?” You used to hate it when he did that. Why should a girl your age worry about those things?

Thanks Dad, you silently praise, guess you make the time we spend together count.

You snap out of it instantaneously, bringing down your half-empty glass of water over the killer’s head with considerable force, shattering it to pieces and stunning him long enough for you to send a brutal kick to his side, temporarily removing his looming figure from atop Sidney. You suppress a wince as you notice one particularly long shard of glass has embedded itself deeply into your palm, blood trickling evenly from the gash as you gingerly remove it.

You waste no time grabbing Sidney from the floor, pulling her along with haste as you reach the staircase and begin your ascent. “Wait- The front door is-” She starts before you cut her off, “It’s locked Sid. We don’t have time, he’s right behind us.” She turns to gage the distance and her eyes widen substantially as she sees just how correct you are. He’s right there.

In a matter of nanoseconds the killer grabs ahold of Sidney’s foot, giving it a solid tug. Her hand slips from yours as he drags her down the steps.

“Anything can be used as a weapon, especially when you combine it with the element of surprise.” Your dad’s voice rings through your ears once more as you stormily grab hold of a bulky framed painting from the wall and smash it down onto the killer’s head. He groans and trips back a half-step, just enough distance for you to pull Sidney back up, taking care to hold on extra tightly as you resume your course to her bedroom.

Hightailing it to her room, the two of you close the door behind you, Sidney rushing to alert the police as you make a half-assed attempt to barricade the door shut, working at warp-speed.

The door jolts violently behind you as the killer manages to squeeze his arm through, prompting Sid to bellow out a short scream of terror. You push back on the door with all your body weight, a triumphant smile fighting its way to the surface as you hear the vociferous groan of pain emitting from your pursuer. He pulls his arm back with haste, allowing the door to shut fully behind you.

It’s agonizingly silent. What’s he going to do now? He’s much stronger than you or Sidney, surely he could break down the door. Or stab it with his knife, stab you with his knife. You’re eagerly awaiting his next move. Sid, on the other hand, needs this to be the end of it. She manages to contact the police through her computer, and you can’t deny the pride you feel for her, carrying on despite the clearcut terror she’s just experienced.

You both turn toward the window on high alert, a noise informing you that you’re not alone. You grab the first thing within your reach, Sidney’s hairbrush, and hurl it with impressive force at the figure entering her bedroom.

“Ow! Jesus (y/n)! What the hell’s goin’ on? I heard Sid screaming. The door was locked. Are you guys okay?” Billy questions, pulling himself through the window once he recovers from the hairbrush hit to his temple.

I heard Sid screaming.

How did he know it was Sid who screamed? And what exactly was he doing here anyway?

No, you cut yourself off, there’s no way! It’s Billy, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

When you and your dad made the profile for Maureen’s killer, you determined that it had to be a young adult male between the ages of 16 to 24. You also theorized that he had to know Maureen, the level of rage present in her killing was too personal for a stranger to carry out. Your dad threw around the idea that maybe there were two killers, one with a hunger to be in control, the other just along for the thrill of the hunt.

You remember the day you brought the profile up to Billy and Stu.

The three of you were watching some cheesy 80s slasher in Stu’s spacious living room, Stu’s arm around your waist as your head gently laid on Billy’s shoulder.

“My dad agrees with me you know?” You start, voice overtaking the synthetic screams of whichever big-breasted actress was getting slaughtered on screen, “That it wasn’t Cotton Weary. He actually thinks there were two of ‘em.” Billy and Stu both tense up, causing you to observe them from the corner of your eye.

There was a brief look of alarm on Stu’s face causing your eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. Perhaps you should have kept your reaction subdued, as Billy picked up on it instantaneously. He delicately grabbed ahold of your chin, the pads of his fingertips setting your skin ablaze beneath them, turning your face to his he muttered coldly, “Since when do you care what that asshole thinks?”

Your gaze dropped from his, a frown taking over your lips. He’s right, in a way, but he doesn’t have to say it like that.

“Hey, come on Sunshine, turn that frown upside down, huh?” Stu was his usual sanguine self again in the blink of an eye, that beautiful broad grin already back in its rightful place on his lips, “Who needs him anyway? You got us.”

“Yeah,” You smiled back despite yourself, “Guess that makes me pretty lucky.”

For someone who loves talking about murder so much, he always manages to brazenly shut it down whenever you bring up the profile. The profile that he fits.

How did you never see it before?

“Sid,” You start slowly, taking a gentle step toward the girl who’s wrapped in her boyfriend’s embrace. You’re attempting this with the utmost care so as not to alarm Billy, in case he’s hiding the familiar blade on his person, “This cut on my hand is pretty deep,” It’s true, though you couldn’t care less about it, “Can you come help me with it, please.”

Shit.

Your voice broke on the last syllable and you’re definitive that he noticed.

Billy turns to you with a look of confusion, it’s almost as though he can read your mind. “Your hand?” He questions, not releasing Sid from his grip, “What happened to your hand?” He seems genuinely concerned and you’re beginning to doubt your own instincts. Until Sid pulls away from his grip, a soft thump resounding as something falls from Billy’s pocket.

A mobile phone.

The kind of mobile phone a killer would have if he had just made a menacing, life-threatening phone call to his girlfriend.

Why did you have to be right?

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. You don’t time it, but that’s how long it takes for you to change into your pyjamas, or in this case one of Dewey’s old t-shirts that less than flatteringly falls below your knees in an Ebenezer Scrooge sort of way, and get situated beside Tatum in one of her twin beds.

Despite the cataclysmic series of events you’ve just been through, you manage a loose smile as you watch Sidney ice her hand after landing a particularly impressive punch on Gale Weathers’ face.

“The pain’s gonna fade in the morning but the pride’ll last. At least mine will, you’re kinda badass, Prescott.” You jest, attempting to quell the foreboding thoughts you’re sure are threatening to chew her up and swallow her whole.

“Ditto,” She motions to your injured hand, all bandaged up thanks to Dewey’s gentle insistence, “I’m sorry it happened, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt saving me.” She concludes, ever the saint.

“Sid, no. Okay? None of that should have happened in the first place.” And I should have seen it coming. You keep that one to yourself.

“Do you really think Billy did it?” Tatum questions from beside you.

“He was there, Tatum.” Sidney replies solemnly.

You zone out of the conversation, even after Sidney leaves the room. You can’t stop thinking about the look Billy gave you as they pushed him into the back of the police car. He was desperate, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too, it was almost like he was heartbroken.

Why would he look at you like that?

Maybe he was upset that you figured him out before he had the chance to gut you like a fish. Maybe it was because he knew Sid would never speak to him again.

Or maybe it was because he couldn’t fathom you believing this about him, you ponder remorsefully, maybe he was innocent.

You’re on edge, anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see that. But it’s not for the reasons they’d think. You’re not scared of some masked psycho reaching out and slicing your throat. You’re perturbed at all of the eyes that are drawn to you like moths to a flame.

You’d had enough of it before the first period bell even rang.

“How does it feel to be almost murdered?” An immensely insensitive reporter shouted, hovering the microphone unreasonably close to Sid’s face, onlookers gathered around you, awaiting her response with bated breath, “Keep holding that thing in her face and I’ll be happy to ask you the same question.” You threatened half-heartedly, gently maneuvering Sid and yourself through the crowd.

“Hey pretty lady,” Stu’s congenial voice sounds from behind you, firmly knocking this morning’s unpleasant memory from your cranium. He wraps his gangly arms around your middle and bends down a farcical distance to rest his chin upon your shoulder, “Star in any good horror movies lately?” He questions, letting out a chortle at his own words.

“You’re a really emotionally intelligent guy Stu. Anybody ever tell you that?” Your acerbic undertone isn’t lost on him for once as he registers your discomfort.

“Hey- That was- You know I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re joking, you’re just not very funny.”

Removing his hands from your body, too soon for your liking, you think, he throws himself dramatically against a row of lockers, hands on his heart as he groans in mock agony, “Take it back! Please, take it back!”

He’s an idiot.

An idiot with perfectly carved dimples and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. And you want so desperately not to give in to his theatrics, but you can’t help it, not when those eyes are shining at you like the cascading glimmer of the moonlight. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.

“Ahhh, there it is,” Stu’s voice still holds that ever-present joking tone, but his eyes are sincere, like he’s desperate for you to pick up on the emotion hiding beneath it all, “Can’t live without that smile. ‘M never gonna let you go.”

Your heartbeat rapidly increases in pace and you all but force yourself to look anywhere but his imprudently handsome face. Stop that, you internalize, best friends, nothing more.

“(y/n), hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” You don’t need to redirect your gaze to pinpoint the source of the voice.

It’s Billy.

“See ya later, Sunshine.” Stu bids you farewell, placing a gentle lingering kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“I have to get to class.” You turn to walk from Billy, not in the mood to hear whatever tales of deception he’s concocted in the confines of his imagination.

“Just-” He reaches out for your arm, stopping dead in his tracks when you flinch away from his touch, “Give me ten minutes okay? If you hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone for good.” The sorrow in his voice is enough to keep your feet firmly planted.

“You’ve got,” You spare a quick glimpse at the clock on the wall, mentally calculating how long it’ll be before you’re late to AP Chemistry, “Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Take it or leave it.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.” He attempts a smile but it falls faster than it formed.

“I’m not an idiot Billy. Or- Or maybe I am, because I didn’t see it sooner, but-”

“Don’t do that,” His voice resembles a whisper, his eyes are pleading but there’s also an edge in them that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, “Don’t- You know me, right? We’ve been friends since we were kids. Look at me,” His fingers reach out for you, a near imperceptible smile twitching at the sides of his mouth when you don’t immediately recoil, “You know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

You know in your mind that there’s no reasonable explanation for how it all adds up. He fits the profile. But in your heart, you know he’s telling you the truth. The look in his eyes confirms his words, he wouldn’t hurt you.

Against your better judgement you lean into his touch, his hand finds its way to your cheek, drawing indistinguishable circles above your zygomatic bone with his thumb.

“What about Sid? Have you talked to her?” You feel his body tense up, though he does a good job of keeping his emotions unreadable.

“Yeah. We talked.”

“And?”

“And,” He breathes agitatedly, “We broke up.”

“You what? Well- Are you okay? Is she okay? Oh god, I should go find her.” You softly attempt to maneuver from his grip but his hold tightens slightly.

“She’s the one who dumped me, so I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Does she still think-?”

“No. No, she knows I didn’t do it. But I guess it just wasn’t working out.” If he’s lying, he should make a career out of it. You’re studying every inch of his captivatingly handsome face, and you can’t find a hint of misrepresentation.

“It’s for the best really,” His honeyed gaze settles on your own eyes, your breath hitching noticeably as you take in their mahogany-toned opulence, “Otherwise I couldn’t do this.” His lips are on your own without a moments hesitation.

You know the only intelligent response is to pull away and race to AP Chem, pretending like it never happened. But today you’re letting your heart think for you. And it feels precariously marvellous. You kiss him back with more passion than you knew you were capable of mustering, the years of feelings you’ve hidden away, even from yourself, come spilling out from your lips and land delectably onto his.

Billy moves his unoccupied hand into your hair, giving it a gentle tug, expertly sliding his tongue into your mouth the moment your lips part to release a gentle moan. If this is what it feels like to prioritize your heart above your mind, you’re not entirely confident you’ll ever use your brain again.

The vociferous ringing of the warning bell unwillingly splits the two of you apart, though his forehead still rests contentedly against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Doll.” His eyes are looking at you with a plethora of unknown emotions and your heart is beating far too fast for you to decipher them.

“Worth the wait?” You question softly.

“Absolutely. Glad the wait’s almost over though.”

The wait’s almost over.

Maybe it was the warning bell, or your AP Chem teacher’s disdain for tardiness, or your ever-hastening heartbeat and affections for a certain brown-eyed boy, but you missed it.

The one and only slip-up he made all day and you were too lovestruck to notice.

Those six minutes and fifty-two seconds would cost you big time.

“Ahh, there’s my Sunshine. Perfect timing!” Stu swings a lanky arm over your shoulders as you catch up to him in the school parking lot. “I just finished spreading the good news,” He states with a cheeky grin, as if you should have any idea what he’s referring to.

“Oh, well are congratulations in order then? How far along are you?” You press a teasing hand to his stomach, grin growing as he sticks his tongue out at you, moving his hands to your sides and giving you a short tickle.

“Oh, ha-ha. She’s a real comedian today, huh?” He narrows his eyes in jest, “I’m talkin’ about the crazy killer get outta school free bash I’m throwin’ tonight. You’re coming of course,” He tells you rather than asks you, though you’ve never had much luck saying no to Stu.

“Another one of your million dollar ideas I presume? ‘Cause there’s nothing totally birdbrained about throwing a curfew-breaking rager with a masked psycho killer on the loose.” You’re not keen on the idea of showing up to some party with everything that’s been happening, not to mention what Sid must think of it all.

Not that you have a right to act all sanctimonious when it comes to Sidney’s feelings, her relationship with Billy was barely over before you had your tongue down his throat.

“Come on, Sunshine, it’ll all mean nothing without you there.”

It’ll all mean nothing.

“What’ll mean nothing?” You question gently, careful to hide the inquisitive edge to your query.

Stu’s eyes widen sizeably as he clears his throat, “Just- Nothing. You’re- You’re coming right?”

After that? You’re definitely going. Tonight you’re figuring out once and for all what this boy’s been hiding from you.

You tried to stay away from Billy, honestly. But the second his eyes met yours in Stu’s living room, you knew it was a futile attempt.

The two of you expeditiously wandered upstairs into one of the many vacant bedrooms available in the Macher house, barely closing the door behind you before your lips were melding together.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,” Billy hums against your lips, placing another searing kiss there before moving his way down to your neck.

Engaging in a moment of passion at a party while an unidentified serial killer roams on the loose may not have been your finest moment but, unintelligently, that was the furthest thing from your mind. Billy’s hands were now sliding delectably slowly underneath the hem of your shirt as his lips continued their pursuit on your neck, that was the sole occupant of your thoughts.

At least it was, until you saw him.

Before you could verbalize the killer’s sudden materialization to Billy, it was too late.

The masked figure hastily removed Billy from your grip, his cold steely blade acrimoniously slashing Billy with ease, ostensibly the knife was even sharper than it looked. Billy’s blood splattered onto your face and you made the split second decision that, this time, a glass of water and a painting weren’t going to protect you.

“(y/n), I need you to remember this part, okay? No matter how scared or tired or hopeless you feel, if you can run, you run! Alright?” You’d heard your dad’s voice more in your head these past few days than you had out loud in months, but at that moment you were simply grateful you’d ever heard it at all.

You didn’t chance a single look behind you, expertly weaving your way through Stu’s house and out the back door. You didn’t glance back even after you’d escaped the house and almost crossed the property line.

Where did all the cars go?

If there were any other choice, you wouldn’t have ran back into the house. But your friends were nowhere to be found and, peculiarly, neither was the killer.

If he was out there looking for you, surely he’d never expect you to go back inside. All you had to do was reach the phone in the kitchen and call 911. The last sight you were prepared to see was the killer’s masked face parallel to your own.

“Well... How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?” Stu grins wickedly from behind Sidney.

The deep crimson remnants of the scene you thought you’d witnessed are still making their way down your face, trickling along your tepid skin like raindrops on a car window. You wipe them away fervently, the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you becoming more than you can bear.

It’s not even real blood.

“What is this?” You utter nauseously, gesturing to the foreign substance coating your face.

It’s probably the least important question you could be asking right now but you’ll admit the two of them have put on quite the performance. You’re sickened, but you’re curious.

Billy removes his mask, stepping closer to you and wiping a drop of the mystery liquid from your cheek, ignoring the way you flinch at his touch and placing the finger onto his tongue he lets out a low hum of approval, “’S’Corn syrup, Doll. Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”

Jesus.

Sid freed herself from Stu’s grip, him and Billy now distractedly gazing at you with distinguishable looks of pride. You gesture your head near-imperceptibly toward the entryway, a silent request for her to run while she has the chance. She hesitates, clearly apprehensive about leaving you to fend for yourself with two armed maniacs, but you need her to go. You can attempt your own escape when you know she’s safe.

“You had me fooled,” You start in a desperate effort to maintain their attention, “I mean, I had my doubts- But that whole fake death scene upstairs? You guys really sold it.” Sid discreetly makes her way to the entryway, stopping to look at you with a final questioning look on her weary face.

Nodding your head near invisibly, you make the devastating mistake of sweeping your eyes over her frame to survey her injuries. It was quick, a nanosecond at most before your gaze was back in front of you, but it wasn’t quick enough to go unnoticed by Billy, who grabs ahold of his knife and has it pointed against Sid’s throat in a matter of seconds.

Billy and Stu launch into a certifiably demented rant, their words exploding on Sidney in a particularly violent manner.

Why would they have it out for Sid specifically?

Oh.

Billy turns toward you and ends his dialogue without warning when he recognizes the look of understanding on your features.

“You killed her,” You breathe a near sigh of relief, finally understanding the bigger picture, “You killed Maureen and you’ve spent the last- Who fucking knows how long you’ve spent, just planning this- All to torture Sid.” It’s all making so much fucking sense and you can’t believe the amount of time it’s taken you to piece it all together, “You killed Casey Becker too, ‘cause she sits next to Sid in English. You knew she’d see that empty seat every day and be reminded of her mom. Psychological warfare…”

Billy looks uncharacteristically proud watching you piece it all together, “Got it in one, (y/n).”

“You’re- You’re sick! Why? Why the fuck would you do that?” Sidney struggles in Billy’s hold as he explains his motive behind her mother’s murder.

Mommy issues. Figures you’d have that in common.

Stu looks outwardly surprised at Billy’s reveal, indirectly confirming your dad’s two person theory. One killer with a personal connection to the victim and the other just in it for the thrill of the hunt. Dad’s gonna be so pissed he missed this, you regard inwardly.

“How are you gonna do it then?” You question the two unjustly handsome lunatics.

“Do what, Sweetheart?” Billy asks benevolently from beside Sid, still holding the tip of his blade to her neck.

“How are you gonna kill me?” You probe.

The question is a test. You’ve got a theory that they didn’t plan far enough ahead to remember that your dad will hunt them down to the ends of the earth after you die, especially since they haven’t seemed particularly keen on covering their trail. If you figured them out this quickly, your dad would have them behind bars in no time.

“What?” Billy asks, all previous traces of jubilance promptly removed from his face.

“How are you going to kill me?” You repeat tauntingly, if your best friends since elementary school were going to kill you like it was nothing, you were going to enjoy the thought of them spending the rest of their lives in florescent orange jumpsuits, “Spare me the gory details but, you do know what FBI stands for, right? Good luck getting away with it this time.” Thankfully, your voice manages to come out far more confident than you’re feeling inside.

Stu moves from beside you to in front of you, gently placing his sizeable hands on either side of your face. Has he always been this tall? Craning your neck to look up at him, the smug smile you managed to plaster on slides off and morphs into confusion as you notice the doleful look on his face. Why is he looking at you like you just kicked his puppy?

“You can’t really believe that,” His voice is so gentle, you could almost forget the sheer lunacy that was dripping from it moments ago, “What did I tell you, Sunshine? I’m never gonna let you go.” He’s looking at your lips like he wants to kiss them, and if you were under any other circumstance, there’d be nothing to keep you from it. He leans in and you almost move to do the same before you hear Sidney’s panicked voice calling out.

“Leave her alone! Please. If you want to kill me then fucking do it already, just let (y/n) go!”

Right, this is an active hostage situation.

Stu let his guard down to console you. Both of his hands on your head means he’s no longer holding the gun, but there’s no easy way to go about gaining control of it. You could kick him in the shins and hope he stays distracted long enough, but your dad’s voice runs through your mind once again, “You can’t reason with a psychopath (y/n), but sometimes you can play along with their fantasy to gain their trust.” You know this isn’t what he had in mind, but you’re running out of options.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up on your toes and kiss Stu with fervour. It’s a good kiss, one of the best you’ve ever had, in fact. There’s a moment, just a split second while you’re reaching for the gun behind his back, that you wish it was for real. He pulls you in deeper and you try to convince yourself that you’re only kissing back to make it believable.

Finally you feel the cool metallic handle of the gun, gripping onto it firmly you muster up the strength to pull back from Stu’s embrace. Aiming the barrel between him and Billy, you can almost feel your heart crack at the look of betrayal painted upon Stu’s face.

No, you remind yourself sternly, they kill people. For fun. They’re not your best friends anymore, they’re murderers.

“Let her go.” You ignore the internal war waging between your heart and your mind.

“(y/n)…” Billy’s not as shocked as Stu. As a matter of fact, Billy’s not shocked at all. He knows you, almost better than you know yourself, “Put the gun down. You’re not gonna shoot us.” His voice is stern, his words a cross between a warning and a command.

He’s right, as usual. The one thing your dad could never get you to do was shoot a gun. You fucking hate those things.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Your voice is even, but you know he picks up on the slight shake of your hands as you aim the gun toward his chest, “As long as you let her go.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Doll.” He shakes his head, frustration rapidly becoming anger “I’m not asking you again (y/n). Put it down. Now.”

“Or what?” You bluff in a last ditch attempt to maintain a facade of bravery.

Billy’s anger finally reaches its boiling point and he answers your question wordlessly.

It’s different than it looks in the movies. The blood doesn’t trickle out slowly and melodramatically. It spews out like a faucet and it never stops.

You drop the gun after that, rushing to sit at Sid’s side on the floor in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a single deep slash, clean across her throat. The quiet gurgling sounds of blood filling her lungs finally subside after her last breath sounds, and your crimson stained hands remove themselves from her neck.

“Now, are you gonna start listening to me? Or do I have to do somethin’ like that again?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You know what’s wrong with him, with both of them. They’re psychopaths. But you can’t prevent the question from slipping past your lips, you’re desperate for some understanding as to what exactly is it is they intend to gain from their whole plan.

“What’s wrong with me? I told you to put the fuckin’ thing down!” Billy’s still angry, what’s new? “Shit! That’s not how it was supposed to go.” His agitation fading slightly into discontent. Clearly he wanted to take his time killing Sid. At least you spared her some suffering.

“We gotta get out of here Billy. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up.” Stu’s voice sounds, entirely indifferent to the scene he just witnessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Billy runs his left hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, his right hand latched firmly on the gun you dropped after he slit Sidney’s throat, “Shit! Alright, let’s go.” He gestures his head to the door, his eyes haven’t left you since your little standoff, making it clear that he’s talking to you.

“What?” Your voice is laced with perplexion. He can’t seriously expect you to walk out of there with them.

Right?

“C’mon, Sunshine. You already got him in a mood, don’t make it any worse.” Stu’s voice holds that ever present hint of amusement, as if this is just like old times, when you and Stu would make one too many jokes at Billy’s expense and he’d spend the rest of the day sulking.

“I’m not- You can’t actually think I’m going anywhere with you,” You chuckle in disbelief, “You just killed my best friends!” You don’t have explicit confirmation that Randy and Tatum are dead too, but considering the current state of affairs, it’s reasonably obvious.

“We’re your best friends, (y/n). We’re more than that, actually.” Billy kneels down in front of you on the kitchen floor. His anger has finally subsided, he’s speaking in a normal tone, the sticky crimson remnants on your hands serve as the only reminder of his previous outburst.

“That was before-”

“Oh come on, Doll,” He cuts you off, calloused fingers wiping the excess corn syrup from your face, “You ever wonder why the daughter of an FBI profiler couldn’t figure out there was something off with us?” His grin is wicked but his touch is gentle, almost comforting, “It’s ‘cause you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want anything to get between us, because you feel the same way about us that we do about you.”

You want to tell him to fuck off. That he’s crazy and you have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t. Because he’s right, he’s right and he knows it.

Taking your silence as confirmation he continues, delicately tracing your cheek with his nimble fingers, “You love us,” Stu makes his way to your side, smiling with dimples on full display as Billy speaks, “And you can try and deny it, if you want to. But we all know the truth.”

“So what if I did?” You finally find your voice, it’s shakier than you’d like but it’s there, “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know there’s no way in hell I’d go anywhere with you after this.”

“You wanna know how well I know you?” Billy’s voice is sharp, bitter, you’re getting under his skin again, “I know you, (y/n). I know you’re not afraid of masked killers, or watching your friend die,” He releases you from his grip, standing back to his full height as his words permeate your brain, “I know your worst fear.” He gestures for Stu to follow as he takes small leisurely steps toward the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and panic on Stu’s face at the prospect of leaving there without you.

Stu reluctantly follows Billy toward the exit, not removing his eyes from your enervated form. When they finally reach the doorway Billy resumes his speech, a contemptuous tone lacing his voice, “Being left here all alone.” He says simply.

This is your own fault, really. Allowing someone to get so close to you, learn everything about you, use everything they’ve learned against you.

You could argue that he’s wrong, but he’s not.

You could go out fighting, but you don’t.

You could stay sitting on the floor until the police inevitably discover you, but you won’t.

Billy walks back over to you, offering you a hand with a mischievous glint present in his eyes, “So,” He starts devilishly, “What’s it gonna be, Doll?”

#scream 1996 #my stuff

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n6ptunova · 5 months

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can u do chris bf headcanons

boyfriend headcanons • chris sturniolo

a/n: ofc pookie!! thank you for the request🫶

warnings: none

- chris would try to act a bit more “chill” and “nonchalant” before you guys date, but once it’s official he turns into the sweetest boy ever. he becomes almost soft spoken when it comes to you and you only.

- he goes to you for fashion advice since he can’t really match clothes. you take him shopping and dress him up in a way that he’s comfortable with but also looks so fine. he might even make one of those tiktoks “my style before and after my gf.” he also loves matching with you for sure.

- speaking of clothes, he LOVESSS when you wear his shirts and hoodies. it doesn’t matter if they’re baggy, tight, or well-fitted on you, he just thinks you look so beautiful in his clothes and he thinks it’s cute how giggly you get and how you burry your face in them admiring his lingering scent. he’ll let you keep your fav hoodie of his too.

- he cannot go to sleep without you. we all know how he’s always sleeping in nick and matt’s rooms, but ever since you got together, he only sleeps in his bed, yours, or the couch but you HAVE to be there or else what else is he gonna cuddle??

- his favourite is when he’s the small spoon laying on top of you and resting his head on your chest (not for that reason but it’s def a bonus) and you playing with his hair till he falls asleep. if he wakes up and you’re separated he’ll whine and cuddle closer to you.

- i think it’s a given that he likes when you play with his hair, it’s his weakness fr. but sometimes when you’re bored you start braiding his hair or trying different hairstyles on him like man bun, piggy tails, space buns or your personal favourite half up half down with some strands falling out. he acts like he’s annoyed when you do this but he melts at the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

- he’ll just be looking up with heart eyes at you focusing so hard to perfect the hair style for him and secretly smiling every time you get excited at how cute he looks and the little kisses you cover his face with. he’s so whipped it’s crazy.

- he’s a part of the sassy men apocalypse idc. being in a relationship with chris is mostly joking around and poking fun at each other. so when he’s in a goofy mood and you shrug him off bc you’re busy or not focused he’ll go “oh so you don’t love me anymore?? i see.”

- “babe literally what’s more important than me rn this is insanity.” you always call each other bro but when hes feeling sassy and you call him bro he’ll say, “are you bro/friend zoning me rn. what the fuck.” and sometimes he doesn’t even respond and just crosses his arms dramatically looking away until you say his name or “babe/baby”

- he takes pictures of things he noted you like before eg. the sky, sunsets, flowers, cats, etc. and sends them to you bc it reminds him of you and he knows how excited you get over them.

- he’s a mama’s boy i stand by that, so it’s important for him that you get along with mary lou, which you do! mary lou loves you so much he starts to get jealous of both of you because you’re “stealing” his mom and you’re spending more time with her that chris starts to miss you.

- i feel like in general chris is a bit touch deprived, like in vids he’s always reaching for his brothers’ hands or resting on them, hugging them, leaning on them when laughing etc. now that he has you, you get all these little touches, playing with your fingers subconsciously, tracing circles on your thighs occasionally squeezing it, rests his arms on your shoulder when you’re standing somewhere, always hugging and kissing you on the cheek, forhead, corner of your lips, and even boops your nose sometimes 😭.

- he definitely is always looking at you with loving heart eyes all the time that fans start to make edits of “the way he looks at you” and you both eat them up.

- when he’s sick he turns into a literal child, you have to baby him or else you’ll never hear the end of his whining and complaining. but it’s okay bc when you’re sick he does the same.

- overall that man is just whipped for you fr and his brothers tease him for it sometimes but he doesn’t care (he literally punches their arm almost every time and tells them to shut up but we move!)

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo headcanon #n6ptunova

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yngtort · 4 months

Text

—skintight ❄️

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Kinkmas day 3

xfem!reader mdni. 1.6kw. In which Chris really likes that dress you’re wearing

Baby, what’s taking so long?

“We’re gonna be late.” Chris said he knocked on the bedroom door.

He waited impatiently for you to come out, not knowing what was taking you so long. He just wanted to make it to his parents dinner party on time.

Like he gets that you want to impress his family, but it’s not really that big of a deal. His mom and dad already loved you for who you are, and he felt like you didn’t have to go all out every-time you see them.

“Y/n, come on.” he said, finally opening up the door.

his plan was to come in and drag you out the house, half naked if he had too. But when his eyes landed on you, wearing the cuntiest mrs.claus dress he’d ever seen, he changed his mind.

He was losing it, looking at how the dress hugged everything just right, showcasing every curve that he’s touched and kissed.

And those fucking fishnets.

The way your thighs strained against the diamond pattern made his mouth water. it took everything in him not press your face into the mattress and fuck you until bed gives in.

“What do you think?” the question was almost taunting as Chris watches you do a little twirl.

“I think I want to stay home.” He moves closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I don’t want anyone seeing you looking this good.”

You chuckle softly, “sorry, love. But we can’t ditch your parents.”

Chris groans, dramatically throwing his head back like a child. As much as he knew his parents wouldn’t actually care if you didn’t show up, he also knew that you were really excited to see them.

“Fine, fine.” He pouted and you can’t help but place a kiss on his soft lips.

“One more-“ “Chris.”

From the moment you stepped in the house, chris just couldn’t keep his hands off of you. with every step, he was trailing behind you, keeping his hand latched to your side.

you tried to brush him off as you talked with his mom, helping her set up the dinner table. And you’re more than happy when mrs.bang declines his offers to come along as well.

“What’s gotten into that boy? It’s like you casted a spell.” mrs.bang jokes as she sets the last plate down.

“It must be all the eggnog.” You reply and the older woman laughs.

“Whatever it is, I hope it gets me some grandkids.”

This was the reason why you adored his parents so much. They’re so lovable and easy to get along with, much like their son.

“What are you two over here gossiping about? The foods gonna get cold!” Mr.bang says with a hearty chuckle, taking his designated spot at the dinner table.

You watched as the rest of the family followed suit, sitting down at the table. you do the same, taking the empty seat beside chris.

“Hey you.” He says with a cheeky grin, hand automatically landing on your thigh.

“Hey.” you reply

Throughout the course of the dinner, his fingers just kept playing with your fishnets. Slipping his them through the holes, feeling the thin layer of stockings that your wore to keep you from getting cold.

His mind went rampant, thinking about ripping them right off you and using them to tie your hands together.

“Right, babe?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts in an instant.

“Huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He said blinking at you like a dear in head lights.

A sigh leaves everyone’s lips at the table.

“your mom suggested that we stay here for the night, since it’s so late.” You explained.

“And you agreed?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Because he wants to go home and hear you scream his name, that’s why.

Chris press his lips into a line, not saying a word. you had already taken up his parents offer and he really didn’t want to make a scene by begging you to leave.

So in the end, he’ll just have to fuck you here.

you’re at the sink, watching the dishes on your own after offering to do so.

Of course everyone protested, but you convinced them that it’s the least you could do since they’re letting Chris and you stay there.

you sigh to yourself in relief as you get down to the second to last plate, hands tired and pruned from all the washing.

“Love,” a voice calls from behind and you don’t budge when two bulky arms wrap around your waist.

“I’m almost done, Chris. go to bed.” You say, rinsing off a dish.

“But I wanna help you." He whispered, grip only getting tighter as his head fell into the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses there.

“I don’t need help.”

"Yes, you do." He insisted, his voice husky with desire. “You’re taking so long already.”

“You’re so stubborn. Just go-“ your breath hitches, feeling his innocent kisses switch to sucking and biting.

“C-Christopher stop it.” You slap his arm, “that hurts.”

Chris hummed softly, letting go of your skin with a soft pop. “Can’t help it. You just look so delicious standing here.” He whispered, rocking his against you and you gasp.

“you’re hard..?”

"Been like this since I saw you in this dress." He admitted, his voice rough. "I want you so bad, y/n."

his hands slid up to cup your breasts, pinching and rubbing your nipples through the thin material.

“We can’t do this in your parents' house.” You protested despite how turned on you were getting.

"I don't care." Chris rolled his eyes, "We’re going to make love. Right here, right now."

he pushed you against the sink, his thick, hard cock rubbing against your backside. You don't even have a chance to think before your fishnets and stockings are being ripped open.

“Wait, wait.” "No more waiting." He hissed, sliding his hands over your lace panties and pulling them to the side.

"I want you bare for me." his fingers traced the slick folds before sliding inside you, filling you up with two fingers.

“Y-you’re insane”

“You love it," he grunted, punctuating his words with hard slaps against your ass. “You love being taken like this.” He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching your tight channel.

You absolutely fall apart on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he pumps you restlessly.

“Gonna come on my fingers, hmm?” He whispers into your ear, nipping at it right after. “Go ahead then, beautiful.”

you bite back your moans as your orgasm rushes in, still trying to be mindful of the people within the house.

“That's it." Chris praised as you coat his digits. He pulls them out slowly and your hole puckers for more. it was such a pretty sight, ripped tights, soaked thighs— his dick twitched in anticipation.

Chris hands shook slightly as he pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles. He positioned his tip at your entrance, teasing it just to get a reaction out of you.

“channie, please.” you whine, wiggling your ass back.

Your boyfriend chuckled, “soon, sweetheart.” he said before sinking inside. He hissed at how tightly your wrapped around him like he hasn’t fucked you enough.

“fuck, you’re so big.” You mewled.

"Not big enough." He growled, starting to move within you, his hips thrusting hard. The feeling of his cock stretching you walls drove you wild, every nerve in your body was in flames. “Wanna break you open, make sure you can only fit me.”

The kitchen was filled with heavy breaths and the sound of the water running. You had no idea if his parents could hear you from their room, but at this moment you didn’t care. Just wanted to be used by the man behind you.

Chris' thrusts were hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he took you from behind. every time he hit your g-spot he got closer and closer to cuming.

“I love you so fucking much.” He groaned into your ear, hips stuttering. “wanna cum inside today. Can I? Fill you up with my seed?”

“yes, please” you granted, feeling your peak rise for the second time. “I need it.”

“Take it.” his fingers tore into your skin as he emptied himself inside. His cock throbbed, pulsating with each powerful stroke, leaving you quivering and sated. the white liquid dribbles down whatever’s left of your outfit, eventually getting soaked up in the fabric.

“I’ll have to buy you a new pair, won’t I ?”

“Not if you’re just gonna fuck em up again.”

Tinytag list (open, comment if you wanna be added) : @foxinnie8 @panjakes @sydnerss @sunnyyangie

#kpop fanfic #stray kids imagines #kpop imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #straykids x reader #bangchanxreader #stray kids smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x you #bangchan fanfic #bangchan fic #straykids smut #kinkmas stray kids #nnipadz

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something.

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam.

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him.

Apparently, that didn’t matter.

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once.

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look.

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge.

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around.

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle.

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?”

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all.

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues.

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included.

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani.

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening.

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump.

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain.

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown.

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head.

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively.

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem.

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain.

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman.

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back.

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver.

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce.

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring.

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm.

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair.

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.)

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life.

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him.

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel.

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired.

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking.

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments.

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you.

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night.

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved.

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green.

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips.

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter.

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning.

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months

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OMG BESTIEE can I pleaseee request Angel Dust x gn! reader headcanons about how they’re getting to know each other/open up? Like at first Angel was kind of indifferent to reader, didn’t really think much of them, but they ended up bonding and connecting really well and Angel just can’t stop looking at them like this 😍 and can’t help but be soft and sweet with them pretty much all the time. Mans is also so tempted to kiss them, often staring at their lips, but he wants to respect their boundaries too so he just tries to focus on being around them 24/7. THANKS SO MUCH BESTIEE I LOVE YOUR WORK🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

YAASSS BESTIE I LOVE ME SOME SPIDER TWINK 🩷🩷🩷 I love the idea of Angel being so horny and flirty and raunchy all the time but being softened and wooed by someone so much more innocent and romantic than him. Cuuttteeeee 🥹 enjoy, nonnie~

TW: Angel being a p*rn star, suggestive jokes, lots of swearing

Bonding with Angel Dust Headcanons 💖🕸️

Boy meets so many new people every day, he probably doesn’t even remember your name after you two meet. Like…he fucks guys and doesn’t even know their name first. He’s totally gonna forget your name for a while after you join him at the hotel.

“Good morning, Angel.” You mutter softly as you pass him in the hall one morning, your eye bags particularly prominent today.

“Heya! Good morning….uh toots!” Hes a bit taken aback, having not seen you until you spoke up. And he scrambled to find a simple pet name to call you bc he can’t for the life of him remember your name!

And this becomes a morning routine for you considering you lived in the same block of rooms as him and you pass each other around the same time every single day.

“Good morning, Angie.” You yawn as you pass him yet again.

“Morning, hun.” He forces a small, sleepy smile at you as he passes by, continuing his walk to the front of the hotel.

Angel comes to expect to see you every morning now, lowkey falling in love with your groggy, raspy morning voice and your bed head and your glossy, squinted eyes.

Slowly, Angel starts to become more friendly towards you, finally remembering and using your name to greet you.

He’ll totally start teasing you about your bed head and laugh when you try to smooth your hair out frantically.

There’s one morning when Angel walks into the hall and looks down both ways, confused as to why he didn’t see you yet.

Boy, does he flip his lid when he realizes he’s been standing in front of his door waiting for you to meet him in the hall for like 20 minutes.

It catches him off guard that…maybe he really likes you. Maybe he’s even…caught feelings?

Angel would probably panic a bit bc feelings? No, he’s used to one night stands and fucking for cash. Hes a party animal, a porn demon for fucks sake! How could he have feelings for you?

But nonetheless, Angel decides to go knock on your door. Maybe you just slept in today…?

Would totally find himself nervous asf bc 1) he just started to ponder the idea of having a little crush on you and 2) he’s never been in your room or even seen inside before.

Comes to find you’re sick that day! And gets sad bc he can’t start his day without his daily dose of you~

He would also totally not tend to you while you’re sick bc boy is scared you’ll see his true feelings for you. He wants to keep that under wraps for now. So he’d tell Charlie and Vaggie bc he wants someone to care for you still and obvi Charlie puts everything on hold to baby you and nurse you back to health. She’s too sweet, my teeth hurt.

Gradually, you two find yourselves together more often than not.

Sitting next to each other at the bar or during one of Charlie’s circle time, team building exercise things.

Finding each other in your rooms just to say hi and check in with each other and maybe even hang out

Angel isn’t shy about his line of work, as we all know. So you’re very much aware he’s a porn star. Hell! He’s even shown you one of his pornos before, bragging and gloating as you watch awkwardly, face tomato red bc fuck he’s so hot and now that you’ve actually seen him naked, you can not stop thinking about what his soft silky body would feel like against your own skin

He loves that you’re accepting of him tho, that you never judge him or give him any looks of disgust or contempt.

It might embarrass you to see him so…vulnerable but you’d never look at him in a negative light. You’ve just never watched a porno while sitting next to the porn star themselves.

Angel eventually gets comfy enough to start invading your privacy just a bit, asking you about your sex life, any relationships you’re in, what your life before was like, how you died and why you ended up here bc he thinks you’re too sweet and pure to be here

If you’re one to immediately open up, he listens but will accidentally interrupt you from time to time to tell you about his own life and try to relate to you.

If you’re not ready or willing to open up to him just yet, that’s cool! He’s gonna spill his guts to you anyways…and he hopes that him opening up to you first will make you want to do the same to him.

He tells you all about his past life, how he died, his regrets, the people he misses most, his shitty situationship with Valentino, about his bestie Cherri Bomb.

Once Angel realizes you’re trustworthy and a great listener, he comes to you often when he’s upset, in need of advice or just looking for a shoulder to cry on.

He doesn’t open up to others too often and will strongly uphold his cocky demeanor and his flamboyant attitude around the rest of the group at the hotel.

But you’re different…you always seem to find each other on your best and worst days to share your emotions with the other.

When Angel has had a particularly rough night on set, his body sore and his mind foggy and exhausted, he’ll barge in your room without knocking, flop down on your bed and shove his face in your pillows. He’ll probably shed a few tears into the fabric on your bed, silently and without letting his body shake. He doesn’t want you to know he’s crying, but you can tell. When he’s abnormally quiet like this, he’s usually crying and holding his breath as to not let any sobs sound from his mouth.

He’d inhale deeply, trying to calm himself by manually breathing but it’s not the air that soothes him, it’s the scent of you on the pillow case that fills his nose and puts him at ease.

He’d then pour his heart out to you, truly appreciating the fact that you’re such a good listener and you look at him with such soft expressions of empathy.

Angel is always willing to switch and be your shoulder to cry on if needed, but really loves when you have some good news or something interesting to tell him bc he loves when you burst through his door with a giant, dorky grin, yelling “BITCH GUESS WHAT?! I HAVE SOME PIPING HOT TEA FOR YA!” Before gossiping to him between laughs and dramatic faces.

I think once he’s come to terms with his romantic feelings for you, he’d start to get a bit more touchy. But not sexual touches…he actually really really enjoys touching when it’s parts of him that aren’t normally touched by others. Does that make sense?

He gets manhandled, fucked, roughed up and pushed around nearly every day so he’s used to being touched on his hips and torso, he’s become accustomed to hands firmly gripping his ass and his throat, he’s used to bitting and being bruised by the end of the day.

So when you gently caress his cheek or run a hand through his white, bouncy hair or link your pinky with one of his or gently rub his back as you pass by him, he nearly loses all composure.

You treat him so well, he’s really starting to fall in love with you and the innocent way you show your affection for him.

You can’t help but notice how his gaze has changed recently, how his face contorts completely when you’re around. Instead of his usual 😎😏💋 attitude it’s more like 😳☺️❤️‍🔥

What used to be cheerful smiles and playful nudges has turned to shy giggles and playing with each other’s fingers mindlessly as you sit together, not at all focused on the task at hand.

On several occasions, you’ve caught him staring at your lips as you talk to him. While it made you a bit self conscious at first, you slowly start to catch his hints.

Him staring at your lips, his smile becoming soft and sappy when you hold his hand for even just a second, the way he perks up and watches as you enter a room, the way he always wants to pair up with you or sit beside you during group time but closer than normal, the way you noticed a few clothing items of your were missing and one day you noticed one of your shirts sloppily tucked under his pillows.

He totally had a crush on you…and you did not plan on letting this go.

You confront him about the shirt hidden in his pillows as soon as you see it and his response is surprising. You’ve never seen this side of Angel Dust.

He’s bright red from his neck all the way to his ears, he can’t seem to focus his eyes on you, all his hands are frantically trying to find something to fiddle with on his clothing, he’s a stuttering mess, unable to form any full sentences.

He’s not used to all this sappy shit. But he’s loving it. Plz don’t stop.

Now’s your chance to tease him back, just like he always does to you. Go ahead, flirt with him, tease him about using your shirt as a pillow case, tell him your feelings too, that’ll help calm him a bit, to know that you like him back.

“Wow, who would’ve thought? Famous little sex demon Angel Dust has a crush on lil ol’ me? Aww, am I making you soft, babe?” You tease, watching him malfunction bc he’s never been flirted with so innocently. Like you’re not telling him in excruciating detail all the dirty, naughty things you want to do to him. Instead, you’re calling him sweet names and confessing your feelings as well and even poking fun at how cute he looks all flustered.

“Q-quite the opposite, actually.” He replied jokingly, still not letting his eyes meet your gaze.

You can’t help but laugh at his dirty response. Of course he would…💖

After some talking, maybe some boundary setting and talk of expectations in a relationship together, Angel might consider having a steady relationship with you.

He would love nothing more than a kind, caring, stable partner to come home to every night. Will you…plz be that for him? Baby boy needs cuddles and words of affirmation every day okay? Take care of him~

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin anthony #hazbin Angel #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel hazbin hotel #angel x reader #angel dust x reader #Hazbin Angel x reader #angel hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x y/n

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aspenthewriter · 5 months

Note

hi! i was wondering if you could do some nsfw headcannons or a fic for a fem reader with velvet? if not that's ok!!

cruising down the street in my lam- HMMM?? A note I see.. let’s open it!!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do some nsfw headcannons or a fic for a fem reader with velvet? If not that’s okay!”

WHY OF COURSE ANON!!!

AGED UP‼️🔞

Fandom: Trolls 3/Band together

warnings: Nsfw.. nsfw alphabet to be specific- idk what else you’d put here-

pairing: velvet x Fem! Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She makes sure your okay before doing anything else, she’ll run a bath and clean you up, then she’ll get your favorite snacks and some water while you sit there cuddling and watching a movie (ik she’s full of herself but she’s probably love drunk rn okay!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

thighs. Thighs. THIGHS. She loves your thighs. She loves squishing them, probably gives them small kisses and bites before and after she eats you out

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves seeing her fingers coated in your cum after she completely fingered your raw hole into oblivion

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

she has an entire album saved on her phone and an actually photo album of pictures of you while she pleases you

she’ll never tell you about them or show them to you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

she’s probably doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing but she will find out what spots make you shudder under her touch and which ones don’t

she knows how to please you, in EVERY. SINGLE. WAY.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary, she loves seeing your face as she pleases you to no end

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

she’ll crack some light hearted jokes but overall she’s more serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Probably doesn’t like the feeling of any hair being on her other than her hair and eyebrows so she’s just cleanly shaven

so bald asf (like her forehe-)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

EXTREMELY ROMANTIC

lights up candles and plays music in the background

rose pedals are all over the bed and she kisses you with such passion as she thinks of all the things she’ll do to you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not one to masturbate tbh

like if she’s really needy and your away or something then she’d probably do it to get some form of release but other than that nope

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink. She loves giving you praise as well as you giving her praise, she’ll tell you how good your doing for her while you tell her how good she’s making you feel

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

bedroom or bathroom

she doesn’t like the feeling or the thought of doing it anywhere else

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

wear anything purple and lacey and your not gonna walk for a little bit

she loves the look of Lacey lingerie on your body

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

she’ll never hurt you, the thought of hurting you just makes her head spin (not in a good way)

call her mommy and she’s done for the day, probably ignores you for weeks

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

she loves giving it, the only thing she prefers to receive is gifts

she’ll eat you out like she’s been starved for days, weeks, months doesn’t matter she’s EATING YOU OUTTT

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends how your feeling, if your in a more saddened mood then she’ll go slow and senual

While if your a little bratty she’s rough, she’ll fuck that attitude right out of you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

she only likes quickies if they’re before a show, she probably started thinking of little scenarios while getting ready and a really nasty one popped in her mind so now she has to put those fantasies into reality

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

she’ll experiment just depends with what.

Fucking Out in a public? Maybe but it’ll take a lot of convincing

trying a threesome or an open relationship? Hell no she wants you all to herself

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

she can last a whileeeee

10 round max (like an hour each round)

Really depends how long you can last

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

omg yes! STRAP ON BABY!!! Besties fr

probably owns like 10 vibrators, specifically for you

it’s all for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

she’ll be so unfair

she’ll edge you on until your practically begging for her to touch you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet moans, not too loud but still loud enough for you to hear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

she’ll fuck you against her vanity before veneer comes back from giving people unibrows and when veneer does come back and your a sweaty mess she’ll play it off as if nothing happened while he was away

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

uhh wtf do I put for this?- I guess we can talk about the dildos she uses on tou

she has about 3 big ones, 9.5 inch’s, 10.8 inch’s, and 12.3 inch’s

then 2 medium size ones, 6.4 inch’s, and 7.3 inch’s

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?

medium sex drive, not too high, not too low, she’ll fuck you whenever but she’s not like a feral fuck machine

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

won’t sleep until she knows your taken care of, when you are she falls asleep so fast, cradling your body with her long arms, sweet kissing on your forehead before she slips off into dream land

HOLY FUCK- this was rushed- it’s fucking 2am and I need sleep

hope yall enjoyed it.. anyways bye yall :3

-Aspen out

#velvet trolls #velvet and veneer #velvet x reader #trolls band together #trolls 3 #smut #headcanon

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 6 months

Text

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2.5 of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Eddie Brock and Venom:

I'm pretty sure its Canon in the comics and like, Canon adjacent in the 2nd movie??? Idk I just watched the first one sooo, anyways, this isn't propaganda i just couldn't remember if you said they needed to be Canon so I put what I rembered about that here, idk I'm proboboly just gonna send the propaganda in the ask box at a later date

They eat people:) venom is an alien symbiote and Eddie is the host and they have melded together into one being. They care for and protect each other and are so intimately intwined they are only ever separated by force. Also they’re both absolute disasters and they periodically bite and eat the heads off their enemies.

They eat people <3

For Will and Hannibal:

Ive previously only heard the term "murder husbands" refer to hannigram so it feels flitting. The whole series culminated with a murder they did together bathing in blood.

The show and ship that coined murder husbands. It’s in the text in s3 from a journalist side character. They do Many murders either together or as a message to each other. Usually this involves turning the dead body into an art piece. The show ends with them killing a guy together in a slo mo scene backed by porno music.

They're both batshit and manipulative.

ALRIGHT so they're not canonically together but it is HEAVILY implied and they have some sort of fucked up psychosexual obsession with each other. in the later parts of the show they start committing murder and cannibalism together and they're soooo unhinged but it's awesome

kill people for each other. maim each other. kill people together. most batshit insane metaphors. send each other to jail. ruin everyone’s lives. someone can probably say this better than me but these gay people are insane

Literally THE murder husbands. They kill for each other. They've tried to kill each other. They're canon in all but name, like the homoeroticism between these two is the driving force of the show.

one time hannibal folded a guy into an origami human heart

They are in love and they kill and eat people. They are called Murder Husbands in canon.

The original murder husbands (literally, that's not just their ship name, they get called that in canon)

The show begins with Will working for the FBI and trying to catch Hannibal, but because Hannibal is so intrigued by the way Will is able to see the world and the motives behind the killings so easily, it becomes a game of Hannibal isolating Will even more from the people around and seducing him to try and kill. By the time Will starts embracing the side of him that Hannibal sees, he starts oulling back and trying to distance himself so that when the time comes for Will to fully embrace himself and Hannibal, no one really suspects what they have planned.

hannibal literally does murder as courtship and it works bc will is also a fucked up little guy

I'm actually quite offended they aren't included by default (joke). They are THE murder husbands!!!!!! (mod note: they should have been, but I wanted to see how many submissions they'd get. They got 19, making them a little more than 6% of total submission count).

do i have to say it. they literally get called murder husbands IN THE SHOW

There are 3201 works for Hannibal on ao3 tagged Murder Husbands. They are the ogs, they are the pioneers we owe it all to them.

THEE murder couple. You know it. I know it. They commit crimes at each other as courting and then commit crimes together and then fall off a cliff to wash up somewhere and live on to serve cunt. Get referred to as 'murder husbands' in canon. What more do you need

Hannigram were literally called Murder Husbands in canon, they are the og, they are THE blueprint. They were gay as hell and comitted so much murder so many crimes. THEY RAN OFF TO EUROPE TOGETHER.

#gay wrongs tournament round 2 #venom #hannibal nbc #hannibal #symbrock #hanningram #eddie brock #venom symbiote #hannibal lecter #will graham

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munson-blurbs · 2 months

Note

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix.

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus.

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance.

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started.

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans.

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides.

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera.

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland.

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself.

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt.

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear.

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side.

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture.

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button.

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother.

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face.

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him.

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin.

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all.

“I’ve never been happier.”

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