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natsarrownecklacx · 5 months

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Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt. 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 4,722

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- 18+ fic, minors DNI, Smut, Mean Mob Nat, Mentions of killing, confusing relationships dynamics/ feelings, descriptions of violence (noting too bad)

Series Masterlist

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

If a few days ago you had even a fleeting thought that you might be in this situation right now you would have admitted yourself for a voluntary seventy two hour hold. Natasha Romanoff, THE Natasha Romanoff, the mob boss, mass serial killer, ruthless, cold hearted woman that she is, just introduced you to her “babushka’ as her finance.

Eh, no. No thank you. This has been quite enough insanity for one bad dream. You’d like to wake up now. Be back in your home in your nice, warm and comfortable bed with your favorite stuffie, the one you’ve had since you were thirteen years old, tucked between your arms and your chest, holding the bear close to your heart where it belongs. Giving you every ounce of comfort you will need once you wake from this nightmare any moment now.

Seconds pass and you just stand there in shock. Unmoving. Not saying a word.

For the other two people in the room the whole thing is a little awkward. You, however, are simply waiting until your brain decides to stop having a stroke and wake you from this madness.

Any second now. Just gonna wake up. With everything but subtlety you bring your left hand to your right forearms and pinch. Hard. You wince slightly at the pain but that's it. Nothing else happens. Not waking up? Okay then.

Natasha clears her throat and snaps you from your panicked state of delusion. Damnit. Why couldn’t you be dreaming.

You look to the redhead, the question of what the fuck is going on right at the tip of your toung ready to be unleashed. Natasha only has to raise her brow at you, daring you to open your mouth, to shut you up.

You let your mouth fall closed and you instinctively swallow your words, nodding vaguely in submission before turning your sights on the other, older, women in the room. You smile at her apologetically and do your best to smooth things over. “Hi.” You say, more awkwardly then you would have hoped to. So you clear your throat again. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You mumble, whipping your now sweaty hands on your pants.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” The older woman says softly and you can see in her smile that she is doing her best to reassure you. She waddles toward you, well, more to do the old woman shuffle, and although you have no reason to fear her, you have to resist the urge to take a step back.

If the older woman notices your tense posture she chooses not to act on it, which you are grateful for, because the second she puts her arms around you in a warm embrace you feel the tightness in your chest ease. You all but melt in her comforting embrace and for a slip second it

makes you forget about the situation you're in.

It's the first time since you left that bar that you feel almost completely at ease. A tear wells up in your eye as you think of it, as you let yourself have this comfort. You might have even let that tear fall, let it track its way down your face as a sign of your exhaustion with the whole situation and the fear you feel.

But Natasha is looking at you with a tilt to her head, a curious look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. It almost looks as if she likes that you and her grandmother are getting along. Disgusting. If there was one thing in this life that you would absolutely NOT be doing, it would be causing that evil woman to smile that way. As if something inside her cold, dead, void of a heart might actually start beating again.

You glare at the woman and turn your face away, unable to look at her stupid green eyes anymore.

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” You say, pulling away from the embrace but the older woman keeps you in her grasp, her hands holding your forearms loosely.

“Oh please.” The woman scoffs lightheartedly, as if the two of you knew each other well. “Call me Galina. We are going to be family after all, are we not.”

You let out a nervous chuckle at her words, hoping for your sake that it sounds more like a genuine laugh. “I… suppose we are.” You smile at her, not completely hating the idea of being related to the woman, but her granddaughter? You’d rather sleep on a bed with nails then tie yourself to that woman in such a way.

Galina, gives your arms a comforting squeeze, sending you another smile before pulling away and moving in the direction of the living room. She stops just as she passes Natasha and reaches out to squeeze her arm, similarly to how she did yours.

“I like her, Natalia.” She says, in an approving manner. “She’s nice and very polite.” She leans in closer then, as if telling her granddaughter a secret. “And she’s very pretty.”

You smile at the woman bashfully for her comment, your eyes drifting from her to the redhead beside her when you feel green eyes looking at you.

“Yeah.” Natasha says, her eyes locked on you and looking strangely soft as she does. “She really is, isn't she.”

You blush at Natasha’s words and try to taper down the surge of self loathing you feel at the uncontrollable reaction you have to her. You suddenly find the floor very interesting and decide to examine the tile in favor of keeping your eyes away from the woman.

Galina pats Natasha on the arm then and shuffles off to the living room as if nothing had happened. Natasha waits for her granny to be out of the room before turning to you, one brow raised and a shit eating grin on her face as she takes in the sight of your blush tinted cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t really have to. She seems to have this natural talent to annoy you without even saying a word.

She opens one arm out and gestures toward the hall Galina had disappeared down, silently commanding you to follow her. You narrow your eyes at the widow, making yourself look as annoyed with her as you can, while still trying to tamper down the red on your face. Wordlessly, you brush past her, making sure not to look at her and follow Galina into the living room.

———————

Natasha is sitting next to you on the couch, nearly on top of you with how close she is, her hand resting comfortingly, or threateningly, on your thigh. She’s leaning her side into yours, an easy, natural laugh passing her lips every so often and a permanent smile on her face.

Sometimes she runs her thumb over your thigh or squeezes the plush skin softly in her hold. You can’t help but let your eyes drift to the action each time, nor can you help it when your eyes drift to her face right after, or the immediate frustration you feel when you see that she’s already looking at you, an unfamiliar look on her face. Then, seconds later, a sly smile slides its way over her lips. Every. Single. Time.

Oh what you wouldn’t give to be able to just reach your hands up and whip that self assured, cocky look off her face. To just grab her and bash her head against the table. Harshly. Repeatedly. Until either she, or the table, breaks.

It seems as though your brain, all sides, rational and irrational, want the same thing and have decided to work against you for that common goal, because without even realizing it you’ve raised your hands to cup Natasha’s face. Her dark green eyes widen a fraction, her brows shooting up almost into her hairline.

You can see the confusion and intrigue swimming in her eyes. Dammit. You get lost in those graphic thoughts from seconds ago, staring into Natasha’s eyes. You could just tighten your hold on her and give her a good smack against the table in front of you. Or the back of the couch. Or your knee if you angled it just right. Or-

Natasha’s eyes slip closed, her head turning to nuzzle into your left hand and oh god. Why does she look so adorable right now? Without even realizing it you’d begun to rub your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing motion. Your bodies are both turned to face each other fully, how did that happen, when did that happen.

You want to stop. You should stop. But she looks so comfortable, so content. A thought crosses your mind, when’s the last time anyones held her like this? And your heart cracks just a little, the solid ball of hatred you hold for her melting, even just slightly.

“Aww look at the two of you.” Galina, coos from her seat opposite to the one you and Natasha currently occupy. “You two truly make quite the pair.”

Thank god for this woman and her comments. The old woman's words bring you back to yourself, your hands retracting from the widow's face as though her skin and physically scorched you.

You send Galina what you hope is a polite, shy smile and lean back into the couch, brushing Natasha’s hand off your thigh inconspicuously in the process.

Natasha takes a few seconds before opening her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the tingle your touch has left on her skin. When she does open her eyes she looks slightly out of it, but she doesn’t try to touch you again. She simply sits and makes polite small talk with her babushka, and sometimes you, until the woman decides to leave.

“It was lovely to meet you, dear.” Glina says, as you all stand at the front door saying your goodbyes. The old woman leans in to give you another hug, this time giving you a light squeeze as she does so.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romanoff.” You say, quickly correcting yourself when you see the playful glare the old woman sends your way. “Right, Sorry. It was nice to meet you, Galina.”

The older woman pats your back in approval and pulls away smiling, making sure to send an appreciative wink your way before turning to take her granddaughter into her arms. Natasha seems to melt against the other woman, the tension in her body all but disappears the second she’s in her arms. Maybe she just has that magic effect on everyone.

The sight is almost endearing, if it didn’t spike an odd, unwelcome feeling in your chest. It makes a daunting realization fall on your shoulders with a weight you're not sure you’ve ever felt before.

Natasha is just a woman. Just a person, like you or anyone else. She’s a daughter. A granddaughter. She isn’t evil in its purest form. Not Satan made flesh. She wasn’t just dropped on this earth one day to test humanity. Yet she still commits the most heinous crimes. Kills in the most disturbing ways. Still finds art in her cruelty.

She tried to follow the warmth of your hand when you’d pulled away from her face earlier, you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d seen it, convinced yourself that it was a trick your eyes played on you. Because that would mean she needed something. Needed kind and gentle touch, human interaction beyond her work, her killing. Killing she enjoys, you remind yourself and push away the borderline hurt in your chest at the idea that Natasha might be touch starved.

Natasha pulls away from her grandmother after a minute and offers to drive her home herself, to “make sure she gets there safely.” There’s a smile on her face, a kind and caring one and a look in her eyes you can’t quite place. You would have never guessed her to be an attentive person, even towards her grandmother.

You have to look away from her, turning your head to the side before you can lose yourself trying any other traces of humanity in the redhead.

Natasha notices the movement out of the corner of her eye but she chooses not to comment on it, instead keeping her attention on the older woman in front of her, who is now telling Natasha that she worries far too much for her safety and she will be perfectly fine with her driver.

————————————-

“Why did you tell your grandmother we’re engaged?” You ask the second Natasaha comes back from walking her grandmother to the car, the door barely closed fully behind her.

Natasha sighs and leans her forehead against the cool glass of the door. She takes a deep breath, counting to ten in her head and trying to stave off the irritation she feels at your question. She turns from the door toward you, her eyes catching on the way your arms have crossed protectively over your chest, causing your breasts to peek out over your top.

“Natasha?” You push, snappily and Natasha has to yet again swallow her irritation in favor of keeping on your good side. Or as close to your good side as she can get. All she really needs is for you to be compliant, to not cause a fuss or get any ideas of running away. That would cause far too much of a headache then she could handle right now. But she wants more than that, so she has to behave herself, at least as much as she can. She does still have to teach you a lesson on teasing her though.

She wants to tell you exactly that. That you should just stop talking and get on your knees. Put your mouth to better use and fix her building frustrations by burying your tongue between her legs.

But in all honesty right now she’s a little too caught up in the fact that you’ve just said her name. Just let it roll off your tongue as if it's the most natural thing in the world. God what she wouldn’t give to hear you say it in much different circumstances. Though you do look cute being all mad at her, a downward, almost pouting lilt to your lips, your brows furrowed and your arms crossed over each other in a defensive stance.

Instead she lets an easy, teasing smile slider over her face. She watches amusedly as your eyes narrow at her, as if knowing she wasn’t about to give you any form of straight answer.

“Why were you so quick to play along, Angel?” She taunts, taking a teasing step toward you. “Do you like the idea of being my wife?” You visibly gulp at her words and a hot feeling flares in her stomach as she watches you falter and take a step back.

“What? No.” You answer, a consciously added tone of disgust in your voice as you watch her continue her stalk toward you and you continue to walk blindly back.

“See, I think you're lying, pretty girl.” She says, a lilt to her voice that makes you think she’s doing more than just teasing now, she’s daring you to disagree, challenging you to prove her wrong.

Your back hits a wall and your breath catches in your throat. You watch, frozen, as a sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, a borderline ravenous look in her eyes as she slowly takes you in, her tongue swiping over her lips, wetting them as if preparing to press them to something, anything, in a few moments. You don’t know if you want her to or not.

“I think you love the idea of being my pretty little wife.” She’s standing in front of you now, less than a shaky breath away, her chin tilted down slightly to be able to look you in the eye.

She leans forward, her hand landing with a silent thud against the wall right next to your head, the other hand makes its way from your thigh up tp your hip, starting out as a light touch, her finger tips barley grazing your skin, only for her hold to tighter, possessively, wantingly, when she finds the dib of your hip.

“You're delusional.” You bite back, having just about enough of this woman. She doesn’t get to force you into these situations and then tell you it's what you want, nor does she get to call you a liar for denying her.

“Oh?” She taunts, moving forward more, her body now mere inches from yours, effectively changing you in. “So you wouldn’t like to be my pretty little stay at home wife.” She raises her brow questioningly, a faux skeptical look on her face. “You don’t want to have absolutely no worries? Just let me take care of everything? Take care of you?”

Natasha traces the hand on your hip back down to your thigh, hooking her fingers under your knee and pulling your leg up to rest on her hip. Your eyes widen, her actions having left you more open to her, more vulnerable.

“I could spoil you, Angel. I’d do anything for you, get anything for you. Whatever your heart desires. Say it and it's yours.”

You should look away from her, you should WANT to look away from her. Avert your eyes from her dark green eyes and her full lips, the ends of them curled into a smirk. Something in your chest screams at you to look away, take your eyes off this demoness before she swallows you whole. She has too much power already, you don’t want to give her anymore. You won’t.

But with her standing this close you can feel the heat radiating off of her, see a look in her eyes that seems something scary like genuine. She steps closer, closing the gap between you, your heart now thudding so hard in your chest you're sure she must feel it against her own.

You watch as her eyes drop to your lips for a full three seconds, her tongue swiping at her own again, before her eyes flick back to yours. She removes her hand from the wall and brings it to cup your cheek, the warmth and gentleness of it taking you by surprise. She tilts her head down more, drawing her lips closer to yours, her eyes almost pleading as she whispers, her breath fanning across your face as she does. “Let me take care of you, Angel.”

You take a sharp intake of air and the following sound that passes your lips is entirely involuntary, only you're far too swept up in her to care. You see something pass through her eyes, there and go faster then you can decipher what it is or what it means. Then again, do you really care? With her standing so close, touching you so gently, holding you like this and saying all the right things.

“Please.” You whisper back, hoping she doesn't know how much you mean it. Hoping she doesn’t catch the hint of longing and submission in your voice.

Natasha smiles and leans in to let her lips hover over your, she barely lets them touch, just grazing them before moving to trace them over the skin of your cheek, over to your ear. She smirks to herself at the noise of protest you let out, wanting her lips on yours in a more forceful way.

“What's wrong, Angel?” She asks, knowing damn well what she's doing. She moves her kisses down your neck, smirking against your skin when she feels you tilt your head back, giving her more room to work. She feels your leg held on her hip tighten against her, one of your arms up around her neck, holding her close to you and a quiet moan falls past your lips when she nips at your pulse point. She doesn’t think this can get any better for her right now.

“Natasha.” You say breathly, a hint of neediness laced through her name. “Please.”

Jesus Christ. How is she meant to go through with this now? How is she meant to pull away when she knows that's just a taste of what she’ll get if she carries on. Fuck it. She can indulge herself a little longer.

“You want it, Angel?” You nod fervently, a whine bubbling up in your throat as you push your body more against hers.

Natasha pulls away, finding a sinister satisfaction in the desperate look on your face. “Say it.” She says, already catching the hesitation in your eyes. “Say you want me to fuck you.” You swallow at her words and finally find it in you to look away from her.

Natasha however only wants your eyes on her. In one fluid motion she has her leg slotted between yours, a delicious pressure hitting your core. You moan lowly and press yourself against her, giving your hips one greedy thrust against her.

She stops you with a hand on your hips and your eyes snap back to her. “Tell me or I’ll stop.” She says firmly.

“I- I want…” You manage to say but seem to lose your voice and find yourself unable to finish your sentence.

“You want what Angel? You want me to make you come?” Natasha says, moving down to place open mouth kisses on your neck, marking you as hers. “With my fingers?” She says between kisses. “My mouth?” Another kiss. “You’d feel so good coming apart on my tongue.” You groan at her words and try to grate your hips against her.

“Would you take my strap if I asked, Angel? Let me fill you like the good girl I know you want to be for me.” Your breath hitches at her words and Natasha makes a mental note to use your apparent praise kink against you whenever she can.

“Or maybe you're happy to come as you are. Riding my thigh just like a desperate little thing. You gonna make a mess on my new pants, angel?”

“Yes.” You gasp, the pressure between your legs becoming borderline unbearable. “Please let me ride your thigh Mo- Natasha. Please let me come.”

A sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, her hold on your hips loosening, allowing you to move a little. “Go ahead Angel. Make yourself feel good on mommy’s thigh.”

You moan loudly at her words, wasting absolutely no time before rolling your hips against her. Natasha watches in awe as you grind yourself against her, the need between her own legs building at the sight.

She tries to move her hand from your hip but your eyes snap to her with a pleading look and your hand grabs her wrist keeping it in place. “Guide me.” You say, no trace of embarrassment at voicing your needs and Natasha can’t help the hot arousal she feels. “Please.”

“Well when you ask so politely, Angel, how am I supposed to say no.” Natasha moves both her hands to your hips, grabbing at them greedily, guiding you against her thigh. The reaction it draws from you is immediate. You push yourself harder against her, a lewd moan falling past your lip when you feel her tense her thigh beneath you.

Your hands fly to her shoulders, using her to anchor you, to pull her closer. “Feels good.” You murmur, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, face down in her shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She answers and even though you can’t see her you know her brow is raised and a smirk rests on her face. “Is mommy making you feel good, angel.” She teases, tensing her thigh and lifting it against you while pressing you down with her hands.

You nod against her shoulder and turn your face against her neck, your hot breath hitting her sensitive skin. You whine, your left hand coming up to weave into the hair at the back of her head. You're so close. You can feel it. Natasha can feel it.

You let out a shuddering breath and Natasha knows she either has to pull herself away now or let her plan fly out the window, and with it, her vantage point. She has to teach you a lesson, she has to show you how it feels, to know that you're at least half as sexually frustrated as she is.

Her body is hot against yours, her all consuming presence both grounding and drowning you at the same time, and you're ready to let yourself fall into her completely.

She pulls away, rips herself from you and the startling cold of the now empty space where she was is altogether too sudden. You whine and reach out for her, wanting her to come back, wanting her warmth, wanting her to finish what she stated.

You look up at her through tearful eyes, the knowing, smug look on her face hitting you just as hard as the wave of cold moments ago. “Now you know how it feels.” She says, her arms hanging lazily by her sides, as though she is completely unbothered by any of this.

You don't say anything in response. You don’t even want to look at her. You turn away from her, silently and make your way toward your room, eyes trained straight ahead of you until you close and lock the door once you are inside.

You don’t see the way Natasha’s face drops. Or the way she moves to reach out to you but ultimately decides against it.

You need a shower, a warm one. You walk toward what looks like a bathroom door, removing your close as you go, uncaring of what you'll do with yourself afterward. You open the door and just as you thought a nice, decent sized bathroom is revealed. You don’t even take the time to look it over, simply make your way toward the shower, turn the water to hot and step inside.

You need that warmth back. She took it from you too soon, you were too comfortable, too close. How could you have believed what she was saying, that she would take care of you? That she wanted to? How stupid could you be?

It feels wrong, everything does, you do. Having been that willing feels wrong. Missing her arms around you feels wrong. The lack of her heat feels wrong. The fact that she’s not here feels wrong.

You close your eyes and sigh. This has all gotten so confusing. You hate her, there that’s it, not so confusing. But you wanted to believe what she said. You wanted to believe that she touched you the way she did, whispered in your ear the way she did, for a reason beyond just lust or amusement.

You want her. No. Yes. You can’t. You huff, annoyed with yourself and your dumb confused brain.

You think about her, trying to make ssense of it all. You remember the way she held you, the feeling of her lips on your skin. The way you felt when she touched you, when she told you she wanted to take care of you. That she wanted you to be her wife.

You remember her hands guiding you, you remember asking her to. You remember letting yourself call her mommy, in a way you’ve never been compelled to do with anyone before. You remember the way she looked when you said it, the way she called herself it right after.

Your hands trail over your wet skin and drop between your legs, your fingers roaming warm skin until they find what they are desperate to touch.

You drop two fingers to circle your clit, letting a moan fall past your lips. You slip one finger inside, then another. You come with one hand covering your mouth, head leaning back against the cool tiled wall and two fingers buried deep inside you.

If only one thing was going to come out of it today, it would be the fact that you were now significantly less frustrated. The same couldn't be said for Natasha, who heard your moan as she was on her way to speak to you.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- this took ages because I’ve genuinely been up the walls and barely been able to write 😭 hope ye like it tho

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut

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fuckmyskywalker · 6 months

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NSFW Alphabet — Dilf!Anakin.

— CW: 18+! Smut. Age gap. Kinky shit (Letter D mentions fauxcest so if you are uncomfortable with it, do not interact) Anakin is 40 - Reader is 23!

— a/n: Oh my god! Anya! Finally more Dilf!Anakin content?! Yes! I had this idea a while ago and I couldn't get it off my mind </3. This will also give more context to my lore of the DA!Series. Enjoy!

— Anakin Masterlist ! ! !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When he was young, Anakin couldn’t care much about aftercare. He was used to random hookups and leaving before sunrise (That is until he accidentally got his high school sweetheart pregnant… with twins). So, he was never big on it; he didn’t know how much it meant and how important aftercare was. Needless to say, he was kind of a bitch.

As he grows older, he realizes sex is more than penis in vagina action. Yes, Anakin actually matures by the time he meets you, he is a whole different person; He will kiss you, ask you if it was good, if he hurts you, he will make sure you are satisfied. Anakin takes great pride in how he treats you after sex. You want dinner? He’s on his way, you want a bath? You won’t move a finger. You want more? Say the word and this man will be on top of you again. When he is particularly rough with you, and if you feel the urge to cry, Anakin will keep you close to his chest and caress your hair, kiss your tears away, and tell you how proud he is of you for allowing him to use your body, and that no matter what he says/does during sex, he loves you.

“You did so good, darling. Let me take care of you now, okay? Let me spoil you.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dilf!Anakin loves his hands. I see him as a very physical person, so he enjoys touching you and feeling your warm skin underneath his fingertips (even if he has a prosthetic arm but… that’s a story for another day). He gropes, squeezes, slaps, touches anything within his reach, He will always have a hand on your waist, your hips, on your lower back, and since age made him a hopeless romantic, holding your hand.

His favorite body part on you is either your breasts or your legs: The first one because like I said, he loves to touch. He will cup your tits and play with them, jiggle them; and of course, Anakin could spend entire hours toying with your nipples until they are puffy, swollen, and aching… ready for him to suck them. The second one goes in a similar fashion, he loves to caress your legs from your ankles to your thighs, but he also loves to have them wrapped around his hips as he fucks you and squeezing his head as he eats your pussy until you cry from overstimulation.

“I could die happily in between your tits…”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Before he wasn’t a big of coming inside; it was messy, risky, too many problems. But Dilf!Anakin loves to come inside you. Not only because he has a huge breeding kink— but because the sensation gives him ten more years of life. Don’t get me wrong though, Anakin will gladly allow you to swallow his cum (which with age get’s heavier, more sticky, and less liquidy) and it’s not a secret that he enjoys covering your tits and ass with cum. But let’s be honest, this man will always prefer to cum inside, to let you feel how good he fills you, and definitely with the intention of getting you pregnant.

“I’m gonna fill you up real good, darling— gonna fuck you until you are full of my cum, uh-uh? Until you are round and swollen with my baby.”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay. Okay. This is dirty.

Anakin likes it when you call him “Daddy” while he fucks you, sure. But, there is something that he never really thought about until he started formally dating you and that is… being called “Dad” instead of “Daddy” during sex, and not even during sex!

He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to it, but he is. It gets worse when sometimes due to the age gap between you guys, he ends up scolding you like an actual dad would do. He would rather die than ask you to do it, but the ick is always there. The dirty thought is constantly circling around his head. He wants you to call him dad and cry for him to fuck you harder, the mere idea gets him hard as fuck and he has to rush and find you to release the tension. Maybe one day he will gather the courage to speak.

“You are taking Dad’s cock so well… do you like it, baby? Say it.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I’d say very experienced. Age gives you that experience, and it’s no news that Anakin had multiple partners before he “settled down”. He knows how to use his dick, his hands, his tongue… yeah, he knows how to find the clit and what to do with it. Dilf!Anakin knows what he is doing, and he will use that experience to make you cry and beg for more. Believe me, you will never experience better, bigger orgasms than the ones this man gives you.

“No one will fuck you like I do, sweetheart.”

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Either cowgirl or doggy; depends on his mood.

Cowgirl because he likes to see you work for it. The way your face melts into a burning pleasure, how your tits bounce, and despite you controlling the pace he still can control you. Anakin will slap your thighs, use your ass as leverage to bounce you up and down his cock, and definitely suck your nipples while you ride him.

Doggy for when he is feeling more dominant, frustrated, even angry; Anakin will yank your hair, slap your ass, even your back if you let him. This is when he is the most rough. The view of your ass and thighs jiggling every time slams his hips against yours gives him all the relief he needs.

“That’s it, ride my cock dollface. Bounce your tits for me.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more on the romantic side than goofy. He can still smile and chuckle, but more at you than with you. He will mock you constantly, and most of his jokes are derogatory. However, Anakin will be dead-serious if he is in full dom-mode. Not even a smile, and if he smiles it’s going to be a mean, venomous smile (probably followed up by an insult).

“Look at you darling, all stupid for my cock. You are gorgeous.” He says with a breathy chuckle, kissing your sweaty jaw.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed, but not completely shaven. When he was young, he was barely groomed, so you can imagine the difference. Now, he shaved not because he thinks it’s better, but because he feels more comfortable keeping it at bay. Plus he hates how itchy it is when he shaves completely. If you want him to grow it more, he’ll do it, he isn’t picky in that manner.

On you, he doesn’t really care; I can see him having a preference for his partner not shaving regularly (I don’t know why, Dilf!Anakin just gives me those vibes). But as long as you are comfortable he is pleased.

“I don’t care about that baby, I’ll eat your pretty pussy anyway.”

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Very intimate! He likes to make it private, memorable, even if you fuck a hundred times Anakin will do his best efforts to make sure you are satisfied. From the first time, he emptied his load inside you the words “I love you” escaped his lips; and that’s a trait that never wore off. Since his youth, Anakin was extremely passionate and obsessive, and the few times he fell in love he was head over heels for his partner. For a while he thought that part of him died (after his divorce and the bad experiences of an unhappy marriage), but when he met you and began dating you, that side of him lost gone was back. Like I said he is a hopeless romantic and he will spoil you rotten.

“I love you, sweetheart. You make me the happiest man in the world.”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to jack off twice a week, maybe three if he was too stressed (either work or the twins who got on his nerves). He isn’t a fan of it so he would do it quickly, He isn’t a fan of visual porn so he might just use his imagination and call it a day.

Now, that he is with you, he can use you instead.

“Your hand looks so tiny around my cock, baby.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: Speaks volumes. Anakin realized with age that he wanted a larger family, but after the twins, his ex-wife wasn’t thrilled with the idea of another baby. You are young, pretty, fertile. After discussing it and after you gave him the green light, Anakin will be a menace. Fucking you over and over not only because he wants you and loves your body, but because he is dying to see you carry his children. The ownership undertones that come with it are absolutely thrilling.

Cum play: He is nasty. He is disgusting. He is filthy. He loves to gather the cum that leaks down your thighs and push it back with his fingers. He would even lick it and spit it in your mouth. Anything related to cum is okay with him. Anakin thinks that men who are disgusted with kissing their girl after she gave them a blowjob aren’t real men.

Free use (this one includes other kinks such as degrading, housewife kink, ownership, even dumbification but I will use it as a generalization): This is more of a guilty pleasure. And once he makes sure you are comfortable with it he won’t stop. Anakin will be rough, pushing you against the kitchen counter, against the shower wall, against his desk just to fuck you, claiming is his right as your boyfriend. You aren’t allowed to deny him (and being honest, you don’t want to), and if you try to push him away, he will punish you by fucking your face or slapping you with his belt.

“Shut up and spread your legs for me, that’s all you are good for.”

L = Location (favorite places to do they do)

He prefers his house because is more intimate, he can take his time, but Anakin won’t deny an opportunity. He can (and has) fuck you in his car, your place, in a restaurant’s bathroom… if he can make it quick he can put up with fucking you in a more public setting. His favorite places will always be his bed and the couch.

“You have five minutes to cum before the waiter returns or I’ll leave you high and dry here.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He is still as horny as when he was 20; so, pretty much anything you do will turn him on. He has a preference for when you do housework, he thinks you look hot (and it kind of makes him feel guilty), and when you are mad. Anakin is hard as a rock when he sees you arguing on the phone with one of your coworkers, that fiery attitude, witty responses, and aggressive body language… be ready for a long night.

“I can’t help it, you look so gorgeous making dinner for me…”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Dilf!Anakin is still very much possessive. So, sharing you is a big, red no. He is strictly monogamous so the thought of a threesome of seeing you with someone else, or even him being with someone else makes his stomach twist with jealousy. You belong to him and him only.

“Say you belong to me. Say it. Scream it so the whole neighborhood knows only I fuck you this good.”

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

When he was young he was more of receiving, he was kind of selfish and pretty much an idiot. Now, he loves to eat you. Anakin could spend hours buried in between your legs, lapping at you and forcing orgasm after orgasm until you are so drowned in pleasure you can’t even talk. This old bastard knows how to use his tongue well. He sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue, and he loves to spit on your pussy. Still, he is very much a fan of receiving so he will never deny you if you want to suck him off. He can be a little rough so prepare for a lot of facefucking.

“You taste so fucking good, come for me, darling. Make a mess on my face.”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is fast and deep. He likes to see your body shiver with pleasure and when he gets rough he throbs at the view of your tight pussy struggling to accommodate his size. When he is feeling more gentle he will slow down but normally he still fucks with his whole soul in it.

“Take it, take my cock like a good girl, okay?”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he needs it, he will take it. Not his favorite but it works. Anakin will prefer a quickie if he has to leave in a bit and he is really horny, for example, he has to pick up the twins in 20 minutes, or he has to leave for work in 15 minutes. He prefers to take his time to pleasure you and he firmly believes in the importance of foreplay.

“I gotta go dollface, let me fill you up before I do.”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He is more versatile now. He listens to your proposals and opinions. The only risk or experiment Anakin will never consider is a threesome. You managed to introduce new activities to your sex life and Dilf!Anakin learned that being pegged and having his ass eaten is actually pretty good. If his partner wants to try something new, he will try it first before he judges it.

“Where did you even buy a strap that size?”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Three to four rounds. But they are long and heavy. Like I've said before he prefers to take his time. Anakin will at least make you come one or two times before he does. Even overstimulates you if he feels like it. Each round varies on his mood as well! From 40 minutes to almost two hours. He always says there’s no rush. He can go from 9 to 5, 5 to 9.

“Gimme me another one, princess. Just one more okay? And it’s done.” (it’s a lie!)

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Young Anakin was stupid. He used to say he would never allow a toy to replace his cock but now he is more than happy to leave your hands tied up and press a bullet vibrator against your clit. He will even make things that aren’t toys into toys. This one time he won a back massager at a Christmas lottery at work, and he used it on your for hours. The massager was kinda shitty so the motor burnt after an hour or so, and multiple times he has used the handle of your hairbrush to fuck you. He isn’t opposed to toys on him, and his favorite (embarrassing!) is a prostate stimulator you surprised him with.

“Spread your legs further baby. if you can fit my cock in you, you can fit this.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. He is so mean when he feels like it. Anakin won’t stop until you are begging for him to let you come, for him to stop, for more… it makes him feel young again and gives him a surge of power that keeps him going.

“You can take it, shut up. I’m not even halfway done with you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t loud but he groans and moans with that husky, deep voice of his. When he is about to empty himself inside you he might get slightly louder, more aggressive even. He is very talkative though. He will never shut up with both praises and degrading.

“I’m gonna come inside you baby— don’t fucking move. I’m gonna fill you up— fuck— real good…”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is into anal play. And it’s entirely your fault. When you finger his ass while he is fucking you missionary, he climaxes almost instantly. He wasn’t sure in the beginning but he is so happy he listened to you. Subsequently, he also enjoys having his ass eaten.

“You are such a dirty whore eating me like that.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

OH— 8.5 inches, not 9, God isn’t that graceful. It’s more thick and slightly curved upwards. Uncut. Due to age his balls are heavier and his sack hangs a bit but it’s hotter. Even his dick is dilf material. His pubes are a slightly darker blonde color than his hair and he has a pretty vein on the side that pulses every time he comes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit.”

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. High. High when he is next to you. He is a horny old man. I won’t say he fucks you daily because you both have work schedules and things to do, but he will gladly fuck you daily if he has the chance. You make him feel like a hormonal teenager all over again.

“It’s not my fault you are so hot, dollface. I just want to make you scream my name all day.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He sleeps until you are asleep. He makes sure you are comfortable and pleased. Anakin loves spooning so prepare for him to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face on your neck. When he sleeps he snores a bit so sorry if that’s a problem… it is not, shut up. Cuddling and waking up tangled in each other's arms is always guaranteed with Dilf!Anakin.

“Sleep well baby, you did soo good. You make me so proud, I love you.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you

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spidernuggets · 17 days

Note

Hi Micah!!! It’s missy (@indulgentdaydream. You can’t ask questions with a side blog :( oh well)

Something I’m always thinking about is jason falling for reader so hard, only to realize she’s never actually been in a relationship before/never had any romantic experience

I’m on the fence of whether he would immediately just try and shower her (sparingly, of course, not to overwhelm her) with affection, giving her flowers, buying her gifts, taking her all on kinds of dates, kissing her silly, following her lead on how fast she wanted to go with the relationship, etc

he immediately just takes all his feelings for her and folds them into a neat little box inside himself (like he does with every other feeling of his, i feel) because he feels like she deserves someone better than him to be all her firsts

I CANT DECIDE

-♥️Missy

MISSSYY HELLO MWAH

OKAY, as a person who has no romantic experience whatsoever and the only relationship I've been in was with a psychopath (quick storytime: Few years after i broke up with her, i coincidentally worked at the same place as her brother. mind you, i was working there before him. Then she started telling her friends I WAS A STALKER?!?!?) Anyways. I THINK ABT THIS ALL THE TIME TOO

I know that in all universes, Jason has a significant amount of love interests. But I don't actually think that he's the best at expressing his emotions even when in a relationship. But at the same time, it takes him time to really fall in love, so when he falls, he falls HARD. Like face first into concrete.

He would notice quickly or right away that Reader has never reached this far into a relationship - As in, she never felt anything like this with anyone else. Like, it's a milestone.

Since Jason isn't good with expressing how he feels, I think his love language would be gift giving and quality time.

First, he'd take Reader out on a date and give her a small gift. Maybe like some sort of accessory. He doesn't get anything designer or really expensive, so he doesn't freak Reader out or try to be an extra asshole and flaunt his (Bruce's) money

He very closely observes Reader's reaction. Every twitch, blink, and breath.

Reader would probably give an incredibly cringe worthy and awkward thanks. But it actually means, holy shit, you're so nice, first date and you're already the best boyfriend ever.

BUT Jason doesn't see that. Jason likes to know what's going on at all times, and he seems to be straightforward. So when he drops Reader home, he asks if she's ready to be in a committed relationship or if she wants to take things slower. He's so obsessed with Reader, like if Reader says she doesn't want to kiss him until marriage or something, he'd shrug and say, of course, anything else?

So Reader admits the obvious saying she doesn't know what she's doing. She really really enjoyed the date and also wants to do all that cliché boyfriend girlfriend stuff but doesn't know where to start.

And Jason literally submits himself to Reader.

Like the fact that she enjoyed the date that HE planned? And Reader wants to do boyfriend girlfriend stuff with HIM?

To be honest, if Reader hated anything about that first date, Jason would've buried himself AGAIN.

So he tells Reader that it's okay. That they can do the things all couples do, test things out. See what Reader likes and doesn't like and build their way up from there.

I think it would be the moment returns to his own home that he thinks "What the fuck am I doing? Dragging this poor girl down to hell? Maybe I should tell her I'm not ready. Or ghost her." Poor baby goes through all possibilities. He even comes with the idea of setting Reader up instead with his friends or even his older brother.

But in the end, he promised Reader that they try this relationship thing out. So they do!!

Maybe within 2 or 3 months, Jason is really starting to doubt his role in the relationship. Like every time Reader sleeps over, he's scared of waking her up just because he's having a nightmare, or he's scared he might have an outburst for no reason.

To be honest, it's most likely he'd self-sabotage on purpose and make himself look bad so Reader would have a reason to break up with him because he knows she can find someone better.

Either that, or he'd restrict himself of his emotions, replying or talking to her in a monotone voice, showing no interest.

But Reader would look through his facade and have a little chat with him.

Through the couple of months they've been dating, Jason and Reader have discovered what they like in a relationship. And Reader has discovered how incredibly touch starved Jason is, and that he's a sucker for words of affirmation.

So after their little chat, Reader is just perched on his lap, pressing feather light kisses all over Jason's crying face, telling him what a good boyfriend he is, how perfect he is, and that he's worth more than he thinks.

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babydollmarauders · 5 months

Text

COUSIN — MEDIA MANAGEMENT: BONUS EDITION

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 579,824 others

y/ndevils00 hi, people are more than a little confused and beginning to get suspicious and i’ve even seen a few baseless rumors about me floating around, so i’d like to clear the air;

to most people, this is ✨Sidney Crosby✨, the 1st overall pick of the 2005 draft, and captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

to me, this is my older cousin, Sid (or Father Sid, as i like to call him, but he says that makes him feel old… as it should, because he is.)

i haven’t been extremely open about my relation to Sid, particularly because: do you know how many embarrassing stories this man has to tell about me? but also because i’ve never wanted people to look at me any differently. i’m just y/n, and to me, this is just Sid.

but i’m about to get a little mushy. for as long as i can remember, Sidney has been my rock, my best friend, and my protector. a little fun fact for you guys, i moved in with Sidney when i was 14. sick of life in Cole Harbour, and missing my Sid, i attended high school in Pittsburgh. i did homework at Pens practices, i played high stakes games of old maid with Geno, and i got grounded by Sid for sneaking out (and usually got ungrounded by the next day because… who can stay mad at THIS face?). Sid was the first person i told about thinking of going into social media management in the NHL, and he was also the one who told me to go after my dreams and never let anyone tell me i couldn’t.

when i was born, Sidney, at 14, immediately took his role as big cousin a step further. in his eyes, i wasn’t just his little cousin, but a second sister. and 22 years later, he says i’m the reason for his gray hairs (you’re welcome!). i couldn’t have asked for a better cousin, big brother, and father figure all wrapped up in one.

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user66 JACK HUGHES IS DATING SIDNEY CROSBY’S COUSIN?!

jackhughes you were the cutest child, and i’m so glad you love Sidney. but it’s still a bit weird walking through our apartment and having his grad picture hanging up in the hallway

y/ndevils00 that sounds like a you problem <3

jackhughes i’m taking it down

y/ndevils00 YOU WILL NOT!

jackhughes you’re not here! you can’t stop me!

user27 AWWW LITTLE Y/N WITH COUSIN SID 🥹

user83 i thought she couldn’t skate?

y/ndevils00 i can’t, that’s why Sid is picking me up 🥲 that was the first, last, and only ‘skating with sid’ i ever did— he gave up on me pretty quickly

jackhughes i can’t say i blame him

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes aren’t you supposed to love me unconditionally?

jackhughes not yet, we aren’t married

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes and who’s fault is that?

trevorzegras i’m never forgiving you

y/ndevils00 oh god, what did i do?

trevorzegras YOU TOLD HIM TO PUSH ME

y/ndevils00 i did not! you’re spreading lies on my name 🤧

trevorzegras HE LITERALLY PUSHED ME AND SAID “Y/N SAID TO DO THAT”

y/ndevils00 well he’s old and senile and didn’t know what he was talking about

john.marino97 i’m telling him you said that

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 tell him. i’m not scared of him!

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 YOU ACTUALLY TOLD HIM?! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS?! I’M PRETTY SURE HE JUST GROUNDED ME?? AND IDK HOW BUT I KNOW HE’LL FIND A WAY TO SEE IT THROUGH

user15 y/n getting getting grounded by Sid even at 22 and no longer living with him is so… 😭😭

jackhughes i’ve been recruited. give John your phone for the next 24 hours

y/ndevils00 NO!

jackhughes okay, then iceberg goes in the microwave

y/ndevils00 NO! YOU CAN’T DO THAT! HE’S A PENGUIN, HE HAS TO BE COLD! DON’T MAKE HIM GO THROUGH GLOBAL WARMING

jackhughes he’s a stuffed penguin…

y/ndevils00 can you just give me 20 more minutes? 🥺

jackhughes 20 minutes and then you hand it over

user07 “my sid” oh look i’m crying 🥹

ryangraves27 Crosby told me to tell you to give John your phone?

y/ndevils00 RYAN!! MY SWEET VAMPIRE BABY!! I’VE MISSED YOU!!

ryangraves27 1) i’m older than you. 2) i’m still not a vampire. 3) we text every week and you saw me tonight after the game.

y/ndevils00 aww you’re still just as stoic and bland as a piece of white bread 🫶🥹

ryangraves27 just give John your phone, please. i’m begging now.

y/ndevils00 aww even your begging is boring!

user64 but… does that mean her last name is Crosby?

y/ndevils00 indeed! y/n Crosby! can you believe Jack never caught onto the fact that i’m related to Sid until i TOLD him AFTER we started dating?

jackhughes HEY! i wasn’t gonna assume! Crosby isn’t a super uncommon last name! and i’m not the only one because nobody else on the team has just assumed you’re related to him either!

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 ah, yes, Dawson fainted when he found out!

dawson1417 I DIDN’T FAINT! I TOOK A NAP!

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 whatever you have to tell yourself in order to keep your dignity <3

dawson1417 YOU TEXTED AND TOLD ME RIGHT BEFORE MY PRE-GAME NAP BEFORE MY FIRST GAME AGAINST THE PENS??

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 and then in your 8th game against them, you got your first hatty!! and i was so proud!!

user90 HUGHES X CROSBY COUPLE— WE ALL KNEW JACK AND Y/N WERE A HOT AND POWERFUL COUPLE BUT OH MY GOD

e.malkin71geno Miss you little one always

y/ndevils00 i’m always missing you, uncle G!! and missing Nikita even more!!

e.malkin71geno Crosby say give your phone to Marino

y/ndevils00 well you can tell Sid i said he’s not the boss of me anymore!

e.malkin71geno try me, kid - Sidney

y/ndevils00 shit, no, nevermind

user39 NOT Y/N GETTING CROSBY TO USE SOCIAL MEDIA ON GENO’S PHONE IN ORDER TO THREATEN HER

lhughes_06 still kinda bizarre tbh. how did Sidney Crosby have a hand in raising your wild ass

y/ndevils00 his routines are what made me this way!

_quinnhughes how?

y/ndevils00 @/_quinnhughes they’re how i learned that i prefer chaos and fun <3

edwards.73 YOU’RE A CROSBY?!

y/ndevils00 yes??

edwards.73 SO A CROSBY IS SCARED OF ADAM FANTILLI?!

y/ndevils00 DON’T SAY HIS NAME, YOU’LL SUMMON HIM

adamfantilli i promise i’m nice! you met me this summer, you know i am!

y/ndevils00 LUCA SAID YOU BITE

jackhughes so do you? constantly.

john.marino97 Sid introducing me to you 4 years ago is both a blessing and a curse ♥️

y/ndevils00 AWWWW THAT’S SO SWEET

john.marino97 now give me your phone

y/ndevils00 see you guys on saturday 😪 guess i’m going on a 24hour phone detox

user74 BYE! I’LL MISS YOU TOMORROW!!

john.marino97 and i won’t! finally, silence on my instagram!

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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alexa-fika · 1 month

Note

I don't know how but I had these ideas while working out

1- Rayleigh x winged!child!reader (w)

W gets sent back in time and meets his grandpa and Roger Pirates

2- sanji x ghost!child!reader

Okay so the reader is basically Danny phantom and he doesn't die (because he's already dead yohohoho sorry) and doesn't need to eat so a story about that idk

3-law x son!reader

Okay you wrote a story about laws son being able to see dead people so he gets kidnapped by Doffy and ghost Corazon trying to reassures him until his dad rescues him

🐼💕~

Adventures in the past ( Roger Pirates x gn!child! Reader)

A/N here we gooo, Im kinda meh on this one and I ‘ll be honest I din’t even noticed that it was a winged!reader request until I was done so I had to kinda mix it in? But regardless here we goo, I can’t tell you how many times I went back and rewrote it again and again cause I kept getting stuck 😩

Reader here is Replaced by Dokucha which means reader in Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Dokucha groans, wriggling their way out of the barrel they had found themselves in, looking around their surroundings, shaking their wings

“Grandpa is gonna be mad that I ruffled them again,” they mutter

They squeak as a knife flies past them, digging into the wooden walls behind them

They slowly turn around, staring at the entrance of what looked to be an office of sorts, spotting two kids, a red-head with a straw hat holding a sword menacingly and a blue-haired boy with a red nose, holding an array of small knives between his fingers

The two seemed to be young but still relatively older than they were

“Um… hi”

“Who is it, Shanks, Buggy?” a voice calls behind the two young boys

“Uh…” Shanks lowers his sword, staring at the scared child in front of them

“It’s a Bird-kid!” buggy, never one to be at a loss for words, exclaims

They stare at the man for a few seconds, their eyes glancing at the familiar marks on his chin and grin, flying towards the man and crashing into him

“Grandpa!”

The boys give the man a side eye from where they stand

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know this kid!” he exclaims, looking down at the child who was now holding onto him and hugging him

“Kid, I think you got the wrong person…”

“No! You are Grandpa Ray!”

“How do you know my name,” he says slowly, looking at the child hugging him

“Because you’re grandpa!” They cry

“How old do you think I am, kid.” he frowns at the child clinging to him

At those words, the child pauses, taking a closer look at the man before him; it was their grandfather, that was for certain; the scar and the markings were unmistakable, not to mention the powerful aura their grandfather carried.

But the closer Dokucha looked, the more they noticed something was not okay; the silver-white long hair was now short golden yellow locks. The markings that characterized him, although there, rather than framed by his beard they, were now inked on his chin, the beard nowhere to be seen. And his face that was before marked by time was now much younger

“Um, Granpa Ray…. This joke is not funny. Why do you look so different?” They said, poking the man’s cheek, trying to find their ‘disguise.’

“Wait, wait, you actually think I’m your grandpa?” he asked in disbelief

“Who put this idea in your head?” he asked before letting out a slight chuckle

“Shanks, Buggy, is this your doing?”

“Hah? I didn’t do anything!”

“Not me either.”

Dokucha turns their head at the mention of their names, glancing down at the two teens

“Uncle Shanks? Uncle Buggy?”

The two looked a bit surprised; how did this kid know their names

“Uh, yeah,” Shanks said nervously

“How do you know who we are?”

“Umm, what year is it?”

The two exchange glances before looking back at the little kid in front of them; it was an odd question

“It’s… 1486.” the teen with the hat said

“Uh oh”

The two look at each other again a, very concerned looks on their faces

“W-what do you mean, uh oh?”

“W-Well, Grandpa Ray said it was 1522.”

Dokucha now had found themselves on Crocus's lap, the latter performing a quick examination on the latest visitor of the Oro Jackson

“I'm okay, Uncle Crocus,” they said, inching back at the cold feeling of the stethoscope

“Are you sure?” He asks, repositioning the stethoscope

“Your wings seem fine, no broken feathers or anything embedded in them, no lacerations or damaged blood vessels.”

“No fever, Heartrate is good, breathing is good, the pulse is normal.. they’re good,” he said, giving the rest of the crew his approval as he put his tools away

“Yay! I'm free!” They said hoping off and flying off

“Not so fast, Sweet thing!” laughs Roger, effortlessly picking up Dokucha

“Awe”

“So, what brought you here?” Roger said while carrying Dokucha in his arms

“A barrel did,” Dokucha responded

“You got yourself trapped in a barrel?” Cuts in Buggy

“Yeah, I couldn’t get back out because of my wings.”

Shank lets out a slight snicker at that

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Dokucha exclaims with a pout

“It’s quite funny, you got yourself trapped in a barrel,” Shanks said, snickering harder

“Haha, yeah, it’s quite funny.” Buggy joins, laughing along with Shanks

“Fight me!” They said, lunging at them

Roger lets out a belly laugh, holding back Dokucha

“There, There”

“They’re being mean, Uncle Roger!”

“I think they’ve only teased you lightly; they haven’t really been mean per se,” he responded, patting Dokucha’s arm

“Your future self sure raised a wild one, Rayleigh.”

Rayleigh rolls his eyes, walking closer to his Captain and plucking Dokucha from his lap

“Grandpa Ray!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re back to Grandpa Ray now?”

He chuckled, patting the kid on the head

“Grandpa Ray looked so handsome when he was young,” the child exclaimed, moving Rayleigh’s head around and inspecting the younger version

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment now and an insult in the future…”

“Don’t worry, Grandpa Ray looks handsome as he is now, too; he got to be with grandma after all,” they said, giving the man a thumbs up

Rayleigh rolls his eyes at this

“You’re something else, kid

“Now-Grandpa Ray says the same!” They chirp

playing around with his sweatband

“I'm sure he does,” he stated, putting the sweatband over their wrist

Dokucha smiles at this, glancing at the new addition and, sliding down his arms and walking to the two teenagers

They observe them for a while until a pout comes on their face

Shanks just stares at the kids as they pout

“What? Is something wrong?” he asks

“I wish I had gone back farther… I'm still shorter than Uncle Shanks and Uncle Buggy.”

Shanks chuckles a little before giving a small pat on Dokucha’s head.

“It’s alright, kid. You’ll catch up to us soon.” Shanks’s voice is kind and reassuring

Buggy just giggles at the situation

“No, I won’t; when I'm as tall as you are now, you’ll be all grown up, just like you are in my time! And then I ‘ll still be smaller.”

“Why do you wanna be tall like us anyways?” asks Shanks with a raised eyebrow.

They shrug

“to make fun of you.”

Buggy lets out a hearty laugh

“That’s the most honest reason anyone could give.”

Shanks snorts at this and lets out a laugh of his own

“I know”

“You are something,” said Shanks

“A lil brat,” says Buggy

They gasp,

“Says the red nose!”

Buggy’s eyes light up with pure rage.

“What did you say, bird-brat?” he growls

They stick their tongue out of them and running of between Rayleigh and Roger, who just observed the situation amusedly

“Are you going to let a little kid get to you, Buggy?” Rayleigh chuckles with a raised brow as he watches Buggy’s rage get the best of him

“Dokucha!” He growls

“Come and get me then!”

Buggy shoots off like a bullet, lunging for the small child

“Come here Dokucha!”

The kid laughs and giggles as Buggy tries to snag them.

Roger chuckles at this scene, watching the two

“Dokucha!”

Dokucha looks around as Buggy’s voice soon begins to shift, becoming echoey and distant, changing into two familiar voices

“Dokucha!”

Dokusha blinked their eyes open, looking around and finding themselves in their room, Their grandfather and grandmother glancing down at them

“Good morning,” smiles Shakky, puffing out a wisp of smoke

“Geez kid, that was one heavy dream you were having,” Laughs Rayleigh

“Grandma, Grandpa?”

“Look like you’re still half-asleep. I'm going to get breakfast going,” Shakky says as she leaves the room

“What did you dream about?” asks Rayleigh, lifting the child from the bed.

“…”

“Still asleep? Hmm? Say, Dokucha, when did you get that sweatband?”

“Huh.” they look down, confused, only to look at their wrist and spot the familiar red and white wristband, a grin growing on their face as they realize what it meant

“Someone gave it to me!”

“Huh... I used to have one just like it; it brings me back.”

“Hey, Grandpa?”

“Yeah?”

“You looked really handsome when young. I can see how you got with grandma.”

“Hah?!”

Here we go thoughts? It’s not kicking your legs type but hopefully you got a chuckle, I will start working on the other one’s now 👀

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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slut4thebroken · 8 months

Text

That Night.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x Wayne!reader

Summary | Jason missed yet another date, but this time it was your breaking point.

Warnings | angsttt, emotional neglect?, break ups, Jay is just a lil stupid but we love him, fluff, comfort, Dick is the older brother I wish I had smh

Words | 3k

Notes | Not saying I wrote this because of a personal thing I’ve been going through with a friend… but I wrote this because of a personal thing I’ve been going through with a friend.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You sighed and dropped your purse onto the couch, then flopped down beside it. This was the third date night he’s missed in a row. What makes it infinitely worse is that this was your anniversary dinner.

A year. An entire year you’ve been understanding, supportive… but all that’s done is make him realize that you’ll tolerate that behavior. So it got worse and worse. It started with showing up late to things, or having to cancel but getting you flowers and promising to make it up to you. Now though, half the time he doesn’t even remember that he forgot.

With a heavy breath, you bent down to unclasp your heels and toss them to the side. You felt stupid. The original plan was to meet there, rather than both of you leaving together, since he needed to do something beforehand. That should’ve been your first warning. But you still had faith he'd show up. In fact, you had faith for about 45 minutes before paying for your wine and leaving, getting looks of pity from staff and customers alike on your way out.

He also hasn’t planned anything for the past couple of months. It was always you. Honestly, part of you thought he’d forget he even had a girlfriend if it weren’t for you trying to plan dates or dinners or just spending time together. But on the off chance that he could actually show up, he usually had to leave early.

You’ve been trying so hard to make this work, but you’re getting tired. You missed the boyfriend you had a year ago— the one who made you a priority, who took you on a date at least once a week. And you know that if it were earlier in the relationship, you would’ve left by now. But you love him more than anything so you tried to fight and make it work. But it was only you trying, so it was doomed from the start.

Breaking up on our anniversary would be pretty poetic, you reasoned, trying to make the terrifying thought a little less scary. You got up to get another glass of wine, then sat back down on the couch, thinking.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before the front door was opening and closing quietly, but your glass was long empty by now and if you weren’t so anxious, you would’ve fallen asleep.

“What are you still doing up?” He asked, looking at you in surprise since you’re usually in bed when he gets home.

“I need to talk to you.” You said quietly, clearing your throat and adjusting your position on the couch.

“Okay… That sounds awfully ominous.” He chuckled nervously, taking a seat next to you. “Why are you so dressed up?” Any doubts you might’ve had instantly disappeared because of that one innocent question. You swallowed thickly and looked at your lap, trying to wait until after you at least said it to start crying.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You did your best to speak clearly, even as your voice started trembling.

“What?” You’ve never heard him sound so caught off guard.

“I- I’m breaking up with you.” You forced out, taking a deep breath. But the worst of it wasn't done yet.

“Baby,” He reached for your hands but you gently pulled them away.

“Please don’t make this harder for me, Jason.” Not Jay. Just Jason.

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly, hands going back to his own lap. “Can you please look at me?” You bit your lip and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to see his face so that you wouldn’t change your mind. When you looked up, his brows were furrowed as he examined you.

“Can you at least tell me why?” A tear escaped your waterline when you heard the way his voice quavered.

“Seriously?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t know! I-“ He cut himself off when his gaze focused on your dress and then on your heels near your feet. “Fuck- oh fuck. Baby, I- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just repetition compulsion.” You offered a rueful shrug. “Dating a vigilante with no time for a personal life was my own fault, I should’ve realized it would’ve been the same as being Batman’s daughter.”

“No- no, princess, please. Just- let me make it up to you. Please.”

“Jay, please don’t.” You whispered.

“Baby, c’mon, please let me try.”

“Do you even remember why we were going on a date tonight?” You snapped, eyes filling with more and more tears the longer he remained silent. “It was our anniversary.” You said quietly, brushing away the tears falling down your cheeks. “I’ve put up with this for almost a year because I loved you and I wanted this to work so badly, but I can’t do it anymore.” You all but whimpered, averting your gaze.

“Loved?” He said through a breath, making you sigh. “You don’t love me anymore?”

“I— I don’t know…” You do still love him. But admitting that would make it harder to walk away.

“Oh.” You chanced a glance at him and watched the way he rapidly wiped the tears from his cheeks, trying to keep his composure. “And there’s nothing I can do to fix this?” He croaked, not able to look at you.

“You’re not going to give up the mask anytime soon, so no, Jason.” You said quietly.

He was the one who left that night, saying he was going to stay at Roy’s to give you space. He didn’t come home the next day either though. You spent the entirety of that time either crying or sleeping. The amount of messages on your phone— that made your heart break just a little bit more every time you realized it wasn’t from Jason— was getting overwhelming so you turned it off, just wanting to be sad in peace. But that peace was interrupted on the second day after that night.

You groaned at the knock on your door and continued laying on the couch, hoping they’d leave. But they knocked again, more urgently this time. Letting out a heavy sigh you forced yourself to get up and open the door.

Dick’s expression went from irritation to confusion to complete pity in a matter of seconds.

“Can I come in?” He asked and you just shrugged in response, then walked back to the couch, letting him close the door. “I was going to ask if something happened with Jason but based on your general appearance and the state of your apartment, I’m guessing the answer is yes.”

“What do you want, Grayson?” You sighed, watching him sit down next to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“We broke up. Is that what you want to hear?” You snapped, looking away from him as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“That makes sense actually. Are you okay?”

“What do you mean that makes sense?” You asked, looking back at him with furrowed brows.

“…Red Hood,” He almost seemed hesitant to say his name, “has been significantly more… violent, the past two days. Bruce and I thought something might’ve happened. We didn’t think it’d be this though.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Of course he is.” You spat bitterly. It always used to hurt knowing how much harder he fights for his reputation and the people for Gotham, than for you. You felt like the other woman most of the time. “Will you let my dad know I’m probably going to stay at the manor for a couple weeks until I can get a new apartment?” At least he wouldn’t ask as many questions as Dick. You weren’t looking forward to Alfred’s unwanted, but very accurate, input and guidance on the situation though.

“Sure… So it’s really done then?” He asked tentatively, testing the waters.

“I’ve put up with this kind of behavior enough from my dad. But at least he never forgot any important dates. So yes, it’s really done.” He was silent for a moment, probably trying to piece together what date Jason forgot.

“Anniversary?”

“A year.” You confirmed, almost apathetically.

“Jesus.”

“Yep. I’m the one who planned the dinner and made the reservation, which he forgot about. He also didn’t get a gift, like we both decided we’d do.”

“I’m sorry, kid.” He frowned, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine. It’s been like this for a while. That night was just the final straw for me.” You shrugged, trying not to give into your emotions. His hand remained on your shoulder and you bit your lip as it started trembling.

Why does this have to hurt so fucking bad? Maybe you should just get back together because at least that pain was better than this. This pain made you want to cut your heart out of your chest to get a break from the constant ache you were feeling.

You let out a choked sob and Dick pulled you into him, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cried. You clutched onto his shirt and tried to calm yourself down, to focus on his warmth and the way he was lightly rubbing your back. But it all reminded you of Jason. The way that he used to hold you when he was actually home for longer than ten hours a day.

“Is it me?” You whimpered, trying to take a deep breath, but having it waver as you let out another sob.

“What?”

“Am I— am I just not as important as the rest of Gotham?” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you.

“Hey, don’t say that. Bruce never really got the hang of the family-vigilante balance. Even right now with Tim he’s still struggling. And as for Jason…” He reached up to lightly brush the tears from your face as he frowned. “It’s a learned behavior. Trust me, I only unlearned it after Kory threatened to fly me into space because of it.” You let out a quiet chuckle, the feeling of humor feeling weird mixed with the heartbreak you’ve become accustomed to. “And even then, I still struggle with it. My point is, he loves you so much. I’m sure if you threaten to fly him into space he’d try to fix it.”

“I don’t know… I’ve been trying so hard for months, Dick, and I’m so tired… I just can’t.”

“You’re not the one who needs to try.” Right. You didn’t think about that. Would it really be worth it though? Old habits die hard after all. “Look, you don’t have to take my advice, but I’d give him another chance. The second he starts slipping back into his old ways though, it’s done. But at least let him try to fix it. You might be surprised.” You let out a heavy sigh and looked down, playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of your hoodie.

“You’re probably right. I’m just scared, Dick.” You said quietly.

“I’ll make you a deal. If I’m wrong and he fucks it up again, I’ll take your place at any charity galas or events Bruce hosts for a year.”

“A year?” You asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“A year.” He nodded.

“You know that’s like at least five right?” You smiled.

“That’s how confident I am.”

“Fine. But only because I want to get out of all those events.” You both knew that you were hoping for the opposite outcome though. You wanted him to try— to be better. You wanted to be important enough for him to want to change.

Pls come home when you can.

Causal enough. But your heart was fucking racing.

You cleaned up around the apartment, then took a shower and changed into some clean clothes before texting him. Part of you was absolutely terrified. What if he doesn’t even want to try? What if you make a fool out of yourself? The only pro would be getting out of going to events for a whole year, which was enough for you to just send the text anyway.

You were sitting on the couch when the front door quietly opened, the scene feeling eerily similar to that night. The door closed softly and his footsteps were even softer. He stood in the living room, hands in his pants pockets, and you studied him, frowning at the darkness of his under eyes.

“Do you want to sit?” You asked, when he just stood there. He nodded and tentatively moved to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible.

“I’m not sure where this is going so I don’t exactly know what I should say…” He admitted sheepishly.

“I don’t want to stay broken up.”

“You don’t?” He asked with wide eyes.

“No. But if we get back together, things need to change. I’ve felt second to Gotham my entire life, I don’t need that in a relationship too. I’m not asking you to give it up completely, but I’m tired of being the second priority.”

“I’ll give it up.” He said suddenly. “If you want me to, I will… I just need you. Without you, I need the mask and I don’t want to be that way. I like who I am with you— you make me better.”

“You don’t need to do that, Jay.” You said softly, trying not to let the butterflies in your stomach consume you.

“Maybe not, but I would.” He moved closed, then hesitantly reached for your hands, waiting for you to pull them back again, but you never did. “With you, I’m not the angry little kid using this to escape my emotions or the angry, traumatized zombie hell bent on revenge. I’m just Jason— just Jay.”

“Did Roy help you rehearse that?” You chuckled, trying to bring the attention away from your blushing cheeks and flustered demeanor.

“He called me crazy when I practiced it— made a bet that I wouldn’t be able to last a week without it.” He laughed quietly with you, then brought your hand up to softly kiss your knuckles. “But these two days were the worst pain I’ve ever felt— I’d honestly take a crowbar over this any day.”

“Oh my god- don’t say that.” You giggled, lightly slapping his arm, your blush intensifying.

“It’s true though. Every word. You want to settle down, get a nice little house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, maybe a dog and some kids? I’m game. I just need to be with you.”

“Woah there, cowboy. You need to propose before you start talking to me about being a suburban family with a dog.”

“Is that your way of saying that if I proposed, you’d say yes?” He teased, but you could tell he was trying to play it off and not seem like he was genuinely asking.

“Probably, to be honest.” You shrugged, nonchalant. The answer was yes though. If he proposed, you’d say yes before he could even finish asking.

“Good to know. I’m not getting your father’s blessing though. I’d say it’s out of respect for you as an autonomous woman in the 21st century, but it’s more just out of spite.”

“I figured.” You chuckled. “But seriously, Jason, I’m not asking you to give that up. If we do decide to settle down and have kids, that’s a different story— there’s not a chance in hell I’m continuing the cycle of an emotionally and physically absent father, so you better be ready to drop it all in a heartbeat.”

“What about… guys night once a month where Roy and I get together and beat the shit out of some bad guys for old times sake?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but couldn’t hide your smile.

“You drive a hard bargain… but fine. Guys night once a month and that’s it.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grabbed you and effortlessly placed you onto his lap. “I love you.” He murmured, placing a soft kiss on your neck to hide his blushing face. “More than anything. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said quietly, wrapping your hands around him and placing one on the back of his head to play with his hair.

“It’s not okay though.” He said, pulling back. “Part of the reason I love being with you is because you never put up with any of my shit. You always used to call me out, never let me walk all over you.” He reached up and lightly pushed your hair behind your ear. “So I- I didn’t realize that anything was wrong— I’m not trying to make excuses and it shouldn’t be your burden alone to tell me to get my act together, but every once in a while, if you’re noticing a pattern you don’t like, please don’t just put up with it.” He cupped your cheek as his eyes bored into yours in an almost hypnotizing way.

“I love you so much and I’d do anything for you. You deserve so much more than being someone’s second priority and I’m sorry that I haven’t acted like it.” You gave him a small smile, trying not to get nervous and distant because of the affection— another thing you have your dad to thank for.

“I love you too.” You said quietly. “Thank you for the apology, I appreciate it.” The corners of his lips turned up and he leaned forward to give you a quick kiss. And to think, only yesterday you were content to wallow in self pity and sadness, accepting the fact that you tried as hard as you could, but somethings just aren’t meant to be.

“Dick was right.” You suddenly realized, making his expression turn into one of confusion. “God- he’s going to hold this over my head for the rest of my life.” You groaned, leaning forward so your head was in the crook of his neck.

“What was Dick right about?” He asked, trying to sound amused, but the confusion was clear in his tone.

“That you’d change and just need me to threaten to fly you into space to remind you to keep your act together.” He snorted a laugh, but you could tell he was still very confused.

“Yeah that sounds like Dick. I can’t say I’m too upset about it though, since he got you to change your mind.”

“Don’t ever tell him that.” You warned. “His ego does not need to get any bigger.”

“Trust me, princess. That’s the last thing I want.” The chuckled, placing his hands on your hips.

me 🤝 not knowing how to end one shots

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #angst #fluff #comfort

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clubkira · 5 months

Note

okay but!! childhood friends to lovers shoyo where whenever the two of u wld play house at school, he’d always insist that u two get to be mom and dad… he thinks uve forgotten it once u get too old for playground games but its always been his dream to marry his childhood sweetheart n actually make his puppy crush reenactments a reality…

ANON HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOU RN FOR THIS… I ACTUALLY SOBBED HAPPY TEARS JUST READING THIS I’M SUCH A SUCKER FOR CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS… AND WITH SHOYO? PASSES OUT AND DIES!!!

and i wrote a lil blurb abt this:3

content. jealous and puppy lovesick shoyo <3 childhood crushes and established relationship (in highschool). timeskip takes place third year of hs. lowercase intended. not proofread bcs self indulgent and i’m writing this as i go hehe I WANT TO TURN THIS INTO AN ACTUAL FIC

“nooo,” shoyo whines loudly, pulling the little barbie doll out of your classmate’s tiny hands, “i want y/n to be the mommy!”

she whimpers when he rips the toy away from her, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, “but you always let her be the mom though, i want to play too!”

shoyo looks around the toy bins nearby and picks up a dog toy halfheartedly before handing it to her dully, “here, you can be our doggie.”

“that’s not fair!! i’m not a doggie!”

“but me and y/n are the mom and dad!!”

in between them sits you, sitting cross legged on the floor while pretending to cook a dinner for your dysfunctional family as the kindergarten teacher begins to seperate the two bickering kids to your sides. the plastic toy eggs are starting to burn by the time she realizes your two friends are fighting.

“aya, shoyo! stop fighting!”

shoyo refuses to let go of the barbie regardless of how much your teacher pleads with him to let aya have a turn, and when she scolds him he huffs, plopping down beside you angrily after tossing the doll away to aya’s feet.

he looks so upset, normally shining eyes now downturned and staring at the carpet floor. you turn off the little kitchen playset’s stove and wrap your arms around him in a hug, his fluffy hair tickles through your sweater.

“we can still play house, sho,” you comfort him to the best of your four year old abilities, “i can be the doggie this time so aya can be mommy and daddy with you!”

“but i don’t want her to be the mom..” shoyo pouts, leaning into your touch. “i want you.”

his stubbornness isn’t anything unusual for a kid his age, but shoyo’s always been very insistent on playing house with you and never letting your other classmates join. and if they did they were only ever miscellaneous side characters such as a couch or various pets.

“hey, y/n..” shoyo brings one of your hands into his, looking up at you with a hopefull look in his eyes, “we should just get married when we’re older, so we can always be mommy and daddy when playing house.”

you smile, not noticing the way shoyo’s cheeks flush when you hug him closer. “of course, sho! that sounds so fun!”

a little hesitant, shoyo’s stiff posture slowly relaxes once again, returning with a bright grin of his own to match yours. “yeah!”

that was years ago; and now you’re both in highschool, where you and shoyo’s old toys you’d use to play house with have now been replaced for videogame consoles and volleyballs strewn across his room whilst laying atop his bed in his chest, using his remote to scroll through the channels on his t.v.

it’s comfortable, just as it’s always been between you and shoyo.

“hey, y/n” shoyo mutters into the crook of your shoulder, his hands wrapped loosely around your waist tighten a little. “do you remember back in kindergarten when i said i’d marry you so we can always play house?”

“mmm,” you hum, still absentmindedly flipping through the different channels (mainly comprising of volleyball and sports, because it’s shoyo’s t.v of course) “yeah, why?”

“oh, you do?” he sounds surprised, shifting to sit up in bed and pulling you in with him, “i sort of figured you’d forget all that.”

“well, when my best friend keeps fighting with our classmates over playing house with me everyday how can i forget?” you chuckle, letting a comfortable silence overtakes the room once again but this time it seems a little different.

normally shoyo would’ve responded with a teasing quip of his own, but no such thing comes.

you turn around, tearing your eyes away from a volleyball highlights reel to notice shoyo’s downcast eyes, leaning back into his plush pillows and staring at the ground beneath his bed.

“sho?”

he gulps unsurely, still adverting his gaze. “just uh, forget i said that.”

that response definitely makes you suspicious, coming from shoyo who wears his emotions on the sleeve of his shirt. your boyfriend, who is never afraid to say what’s on his mind now seems hesitant.

“what is it, sho?” you ask softly, bringing a hand to his cheek to turn him towards you, “you can tell me anything, sho.”

shoyo eyes soften when seeing your concerned features; and like from when he was a child he leans into your touch once more, the only difference being your childhood friend turned boyfriend is all grown up now, and realizes the implications of what his words really mean now.

with a gentle kiss to your palms, shoyo brings you in closer by the waist, placing your head right above his chest, allowing you to hear his quickening heartbeat.

“… what if i said i was serious about marrying you?”

#shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo fluff #hinata fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #( 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝒻 : 𐚁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒞𝓁𝓊𝒷 )#𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝒷 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓁!#⊹₊ ⋆ sent by anon.

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plutonianeris · 3 months

Text

❝mars in the 6th house❞

This is how mars in the 6th house has manifested for me.

With my 6th house mars placement I tend to make my daily activities into games or challenges. In my head I’m always like okay let’s see how long it takes me to do xyz. It makes me feel accomplished to get stuff down.

The downside to all of that is the stress I put on my body. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop and I keep pushing through until I feel burned out. Over the years I have gotten better and reminding myself to slow down and be more mindful throughout out the day.

I have always had very high paced busy jobs. The couple times where I had a more low stakes, relaxed job I would start off thinking I was going to enjoy it and then I would hate it. It would just make the day drag on so long. I like feeling challenged and when I am busy the day goes by faster. When I was around 15 I got my first job at a restaurant and it would get extremely busy and chaotic as fuck and honestly I loved it. The dining room would get so full, people were chattering all the time and we would all be in the back running around like chickens with their heads cut off, bumping into each other. Some of my coworkers would get frustrated which is fair but honestly it felt like a game to me. I worked there until I was 19. I have a higher paying, more “professional” job now but to this day that was the most fun job I’ve had.

I have worked at many different places, but the posts that state mars in the 6th house will give you coworkers being jealous and trying to start shit are 100% right. In every job I have had there were coworkers that saw me as threat or would try to start shit with me. I once worked at a hospital when I was in college and the girls working with me (Who were 2-3 years actually older than me) were so hateful and weird. They would constantly be looking at me, gossiping (or straight up trying to argue) and one time one of them lied to the supervisor saying I was slacking off when I wasn’t (literally trying to sabotage my job).

A male coworker there at the time told me they were just hating. I do believe that they were because they were being weird and messy but I also think he was trying to flirt with me..

The rumors are true about your coworkers crushing on you with this placement. And vice versa for me as well at times. It has gone from flirting with coworkers to me actually sleeping with a coworker once. However those times it was never anything serious, more like in the moment things. 6th house placements really know what it means to have a work husband/ wife lol.

another thing about jobs, when people try to start shit it use to get me riled up and I would let people get under my skin (when I was younger). NOW, I laugh and even though it still makes me annoyed, it makes me feel even more motivated to be the best at what I am doing.

I am also quick to leave a job once it has run its course. I am not that emotional when it comes to leaving and starting over somewhere else.

I lose weight very fast. I don’t mean in the sense that I have high metabolism. I mean that if gain weight and I decide I want to lose it, I do simple workouts and in a relatively short time its gone. Its not an unhealthy or harmful way. It makes sense considering mars is action and speed and the 6th house is daily routines and my body and health. Honestly if you have this placement and you are stressing over meal plans or planning specific workouts, just do simple ones and walk more and it wont be as hard as you thought.

I do have a high libido, especially when I am in a relationship. Having a healthy and satisfying sexual relationship is important to me.

I don’t get sick very often and when I do, I fight it off in 1-3 days.

I can be very impulsive in my daily and routines, sometimes harshly. Like I might brush my hair very roughly without realizing or apply lotion onto my skin in a heedless manner. That is something that I did not like and I try to remind myself to treat my body with gentle hands.

My impulsive behavior was worse when I was kid. For example, if I could not get a necklace off of me or bracelet, it would make me so angry and kind of panicked, I would rip it off even if it meant it might break I didn’t care. Me doing what I wanted and feeling free mattered more than whatever I was wearing. This was however another thing I tried to improve on.

Growing up, in my daily routines people use to be mad aggressive towards me as well. Don’t get me wrong, I knew when I was annoying or pushing someones buttons, but the random spurts of anger at me would be very unwarranted.

I feel like at times I can be very guarded as well or tense. When I am angry, I feel it first in my chest and then my stomach will hurt. I don’t like getting worked up because although I can emotionally regulate, it still takes my body a while to calm down. When I was a teenager it would take a long ass time of me practically seething or cursing. Now after a couple deep breaths I’m good.

Mars is aggressive and the 6th house is my health and body and I have definitely taken my anger out on myself as well. My home life had always been very chaotic as a kid and I started self harming at 12 years old and then I stopped when I was around 17 years old.

On a more positive note, I love taking care of my body now. I would never treat it like my enemy or be so careless with myself like I use to. I like working out. I like feeling strong. And also theres a bonus of feeling hot as fuck when I am naked. When Megan thee stallion said, “ When I'm in the gym I think about bitches that I'm shitting on,” I really felt that 💋🔥

#astrology #mars in the 6th house #6th house #mars #personal astrology observation #astrology observations #astro observations #fire mars #mars in astrology #random astro #mars in capricorn #mars in virgo #mars in sagittarius #mars in aquarius

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applejuicefruit · 1 year

Note

hey, could you do a, trigger warning by the way, where the reader was harassed in the street/ and or in the workplace and she comes home sad, but doesn't tell kylian anything, he tries to talk to her about what it happened, and in the end she ends up telling him and he comforts her and in the end you decide, if you can and feel comfortable, thank you. <3

thank you for requesting this one!

also tw : violence, harassment , verbal abuse , non consensual touching, don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable!!!

kylian mbappe x reader

Fairytale

You loved your work.

You really did.

You worked for a big photography company based in Paris. Always working with famous photographers coming from all over the world. Your company worked for important museums and events all over the country and that’s how you met Kylian. You and your colleagues were sponsoring the company during some football event and when he was asked to take some pictures for it he couldn’t help but be mesmerised by you. Your beauty and kindness made him fall in love with you.

You started dating a couple of weeks after your first meeting and now, two years into the relationship things were going wonderfully amazing, both for him and you.

A few things were changed inside the company, as it began to expand internationally your boss decided to hire more people so they could help with the amount of work you all had to do.

One of this people was Luis. He was kind and shy at first. He was a little bit older than you but not that much. You’ve been his mentor when he first started, he knew he could rely on you especially when there were so many things do to and he had no idea of where to start. You were always welcoming with anyone who asked for help so you didn’t mind spending more time at the office helping him out.

He tried to ask you out once but you stopped him right away, telling him you actually have a boyfriend.

He got the memo and never made any kind of requests to you, instead he asked you to forget about his failed attempt so you could be just friends - of course you agreed, in the end he was your colleague and you wanted to work with good energy.

One friday night you and Luis were staying over finishing some project that you didn’t want to finish the next day. You already texted Kylian telling him you were getting home late because of work and, even if he sounded sad he knew how much you loved your work so he couldn’t really complain, not after all the nights you spent awake waiting for him to come back from training.

“I think we’re almost done” Luis said writing something on his computer.

“Yup. I’m all done with these pictures…” you showed him and closed the computer waiting for him to be done.

“Give me a minute and I promise you that you won’t see me again until next Monday” he joked and you laughed a bit.

Once he was all done you stood up from your chair and went to grab your jacket but Luis hands stopped you.

He took your wrist and turned you to him.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, concern evident in your voice since he was acting a bit strange.

“Why don’t we stay here for a bit longer? No one’s here…” he whispered and something told you that you had to turn around and run as far as you could but his hands still on your wrist stopped you from doing so.

“Luis I think we should go home…and rest, we’re clearly very tired…” you tried to calm him down, panic surging in you.

“Perhaps…you should come home with me? What do you think?” he said taking a few steps over and putting his hands on your hips “I could show you some things that your football boyfriend doesn’t know…he doesn’t deserve you. He’s probably fucking a new girl every night when you’re not home…I could really show you some things” he said while one of his hands grabbed your butt and squeezed it a little.

“Please Luis stop…just let me go and I won’t say anything about it…” you said, tears falling from your eyes.

“Why? Why should I let you go? You know what I’m saying is the truth…in these past years he has probably cheated on you every single time you weren’t there…” he said and you tried to not let those words into you. You’ve always been insecure about your relationship, mostly because you didn’t look like any kind of models Kylian dated, and you didn’t look like any other football player’s girlfriends. You were just you with a normal job and a normal life, no one special or famous. Even now that you and Kylian were dating you wanted your life to remain private, not looking for money or fame.

But Luis knew your weak spot and he was trying to get into your head.

“It’s not true…I love Kylian…he would never do something like that” you said back and he laughed.

“Maybe…or maybe he’s fucking a model while you’re here all alone with me…” he said, his lips ghosting over your ear and it made you shiver. You were completely terrified. And alone.

“We could have some fun now…” he squeezed your ass again trying to get into your panties.

You were scared and you had no idea of what to do, but adrenaline was rushing through you so, with your knee you reached his lower parts a kicked as strong as you could. You saw him leaving his grip on you and clenching down from the pain and in that moment you ran outside the building, not even caring about your jacket or laptop. You only got your bag and your car keys and you reached for your car. Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t focus on the road but your main goal was to reach home and kylian’s comforting arms.

You were driving too fast but you didn’t care.

Once you reached home you didn’t even bother to park your car, you just left it there once the gate was opened.

Kylian was currently laid on the couch scrolling through his phone when he heard your engine stop, sign that you were arrived.

You opened the front door and Kylian swore he almost died when he saw the state you were in. Your eyes red and puffy and your face wet with tears, your body was shaking and you couldn’t breathe.

“Y/n? Babe? What happened?” he ran to you when he saw you couldn’t even stand by yourself.

You tried to speak but no word came out of your mouth.

“Princess talk to me…are you hurt? What happened…baby? Please talk to me…” he said reaching for your hands “can I touch you baby?” he asked softly and you nodded. He wrapped his arms around your body and you let your tears fall while he softly stroke your back.

“Shh…it’s okay baby” he whispered trying to soothe you “can you tell me what happened baby?”

“He…he touched me and I just-I didn’t do anything, I was paralyzed” you explained and he was fuming, someone touched you without your consent.

“Who baby?” he asked even if he knew who did it.

“Luis…he-he tried to…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence that you began crying again. Kylian got what you meant and he was so mad at Luis that he was sure he wouldn’t have his job the next day.

“It’s okay baby, it’s over now…you’re here and he can’t hurt you, you’re safe baby” he comforted you and that’s all you needed.

“Why don’t we sit on the couch for a bit? I can prepare you a cup of tea if you want to…” he suggested but you shook your head.

“No please, I just want you…” you said hugging him, holding him for dear life.

“I’m not leaving baby, I promise you” he helped you sitting on the couch while he sat next to you.

You were still pretty shocked, still trembling but your cries stopped.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked you but you said no.

“Did he…” he didn’t even want to ask you that but he had to know if anything bad happened.

“No he didn’t. I stopped him before he could do anything…he just, his hands were all over me and I felt my body completely numb, I wasn’t even reacting…” you said feeling guilty about what happened. Kylian sensed it too but he comforted you.

“Baby, it wasn’t your fault okay? None of this…he’s just a dick who can’t accept a no, it wasn’t your fault…you’re just a victim but I’m glad you’re okay…you’re safe” he kissed your forehead and held you in his arms.

“Why can’t people be nice? Sometimes I wished I was fucking Cinderella and I lived in a fairytale, why can’t that be the real world?” you asked and Kylian soften a bit.

“You’re too good for this world baby…we don’t deserve you” he said kissing your cheek, making you smile a bit.

“He’s dead…his career’s over, I promise you he will never hurt you or anyone ever again” Kylian said with a poisonous voice. You knew Kylian was pretty famous, especially in France, he was seen as a God, capable of incredible things and you also knew he had his contacts. Plus your boss was a huge PSG fan so he only needed to call him to have Luis fired.

Kylian didn’t care if he was going to ruin a man’s life. He couldn’t care less, not when that man harassed you, tried to get his way to you, touched you without your consent and scared you. Kylian was so mad he could have killed him but you needed him and his comfort and he was going to take care of you as long as you needed him.

#kylian mbappe #kylianmbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe x you #psg #paris saint germain #equipe de france #football fan #football imagine #football drabble #football blurb #football x reader

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tommydarlings · 1 year

Text

Tous les mêmes | t.w

pairing: toto wolff x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.9k

summary: You absolutely hated it when men raised their voice at you, what was pretty much your fathers fault… you really though that it would be different with toto but let’s be honest, what did you expect when you started dating a man that could be your father.

song suggestion: tous les mêmes by stromae

my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! <3

You hated it when people yelled at you. You despised it. Especially when men were the ones that were doing it, thinking they can yell at you wherever and whenever they want because you are such a tiny and almost breakable little women that never opens her mouth.

You especially hated it because it always reminds you of how your father yelled at you back then.

His voice was always loud and deep, sometimes you still hear it ringing in your ears and just hope that it’s gonna go away as quick as it came. He never touched you or harmed you in any physical kind of way but definitely mental.

As soon as you left your father, you thought that it would stop. That you would never need to hear and face a man yelling at you ever again but your love life had different plans.

No man ever hit you or generally raised his hand, but definitely his voice. You were yelled at, cursed at, and other not really enjoyable things in the past from your ex-boyfriends and you thought that it would be different with him but let’s be honest… stromae was right with his song 'tous le memes', they are really all the same.

And also… what did you expect when you started dating a 51 year old man that could actually be your father. Of course it reminds you of him then but you were always a bit to oblivious and dumb when it came to loving someone, especially older man.

You bit your lip while tears blurred your vision as you looked up at your way taller boyfriend, hands grabbing your shirt in a rather tight grip. You were really angry and you couldn’t be angry at someone, especially the man that you love, without being on the edge of crying.

“Y/n! For the last time, I know Sandra for years, okay?! Longer than you!” Toto yelled at you from across the kitchen. You only shook your head, bottom lip already trembling.

Toto obviously noticed that, “Do not cry right now little one, you have no right to cry now.” He quickly told you with a tiny grin on his lips.

He was even smiling.

You gulped, “A-Are you serious Toto? It doesn’t matter!” You usually never raised your voice but you felt like you couldn’t hold it back anymore. “You were talking to her way more than to me!”

Your angry boyfriend sighed loudly, “What should I talk about with my own girlfriend that I’m seeing everyday, y/n!” He shouted at you from across the room.

You felt the first couple of tears sliding down your cheeks, eyes still focused on how his jaw was clenching and how his furious eyes were starring at your trembling figure.

Did you already mention that you hated men yelling at you? Probably.

“I-I don’t know-”

“Look!, you don’t even fucking know yourself y/n!” He said in a really uncomfortably loud tone. Finger angrily pointing at you.

You choked back a sob, bottom lip now trembling even more whilst your fingers were still clenching the bottom of your oversized T-shirt that was actually his bit you kind of wished it wouldn’t be his right now.

You were looking like a child getting yelled at for eating the candy that you weren’t supposed to eat because you’ve already had enough and Toto knew that.

“Like c'mon little one, don’t argue with me about utter bullshit, you know that I hate that.” He argued, voice now a bit quieter but still filled with anger and probably also slight hatred. You nodded, not knowing what else your supposed to do,

“I'm s-sorry.” You sniffled, tears not really stopping as your head hang low.

You raised your hand and wiped some of the tears away as new ones were already making their way down your cheeks again but then you felt two big hands grappling your wrist and pulling your hands off of your face.

You raised your head again and looked up at your still kind of angry looking boyfriend but now with a tiny not so mean grin on his face. The older man lowered your arms and grabbed your cheeks with his big hands, thumbs now wiping your tears away.

He sighed, “It’s okay y/n baby, it’s okay.” Toto muttered quietly while he was rubbing your back. You drew your gaze up to the way taller man infront of you and went on your tippy toes, leaning forward. He chuckled,

“Oh come here.”

He said to you before his hands got a hold of your hips and picked you up, carrying you now and leaning forward to capture your lips in a lovely kiss, thumbs stroking your skin.

You smiled into the kiss before you wrapped your arms around his neck. Toto also smiled, fingers squeezing your flesh. You squealed and briefly broke the kiss before you went in for another one as you felt him making his way up to the stairs.

“I am so sorry that I yelled at you baby, I know you hate that.” He apologised while he opened the door to the bedroom.

You retreated your lips from his and looked at him, “it’s okay-”

“No it’s not little one and you know it.”

You didn’t say anything, instead, you leaned forward and kissed him again, hands now intertwining themselves into the roots of his soft short hair.

“I love you so much.” Toto mumbled quietly before you two went on kissing. “I love you too.” You quickly told him as your kissing got a bit rougher and faster, both of you losing themselves in each other.

#fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #toto wolff mercedes #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #Toto Wolff Angst #Toto Wolff fluff

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moodyhaaze · 10 months

Text

❛ when you run into your ex… ❜ pt2 — younger bros

synopsis. it’s been years since you’ve seen your ex. but on an excursion to your hometown in the human world with your boy, you run into them…

tags. headcanon | slightly NSFW | gn!mc

< part 1 - older bros | part 3 - dateables >

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚

— 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

I think would be pretty stoic about it because he knows you’re his. Doesn’t feel the need to even spare a glance at your ex… Until they do something stupid like approach you and place a hand on your arm. Then Satan is stood between the two of you telling them to fuck off. He gets pretty mad pretty quickly, saying things like “Touch them again and you’re dead!” while his horns begin to peak through his hair. It takes all of your strength and persuasive abilities to convince Satan to leave with you, but you’re finally able to get out of there with no bloodshed. Once you’re home Satan drags you to his room, pressing you against his bookshelves smothering you with kisses. “I won’t let them touch you again. Only I’m allowed to touch you. Tell me, tell me only I’m allowed to touch you…” Proceeds to plow you until you’re numb and can only think of him.

— 𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎

just laughs. He keeps looking them up and down and can’t help but laugh. “This—” he says, pointing his finger at them, “This is your ex? Look at them, absolutely horrendous!” Asmo’s really playing it up, though, only because he’s actually incredibly pissed and doesn’t want to show it. He knows it’s a waste of time to get into an altercation because there’s better things to do with his time, but the longer he looks at them, the angrier he gets. “I can’t believe they had their filthy hands all over my precious darling. How disgusting,” He mumbles through gritted teeth. It’s rare to see Asmo worked up like this, but it’s oh so hot when he is. But to spare the bloodshed, you grab his hand and pull him the opposite direction. The look on his face is still pretty serious as you’re walking away, so you ask him if he’s okay. “Oh, of course I’m fine!” At least it seems he’s back to his normal bubbly self, “But I want us to stop by the shops and pick out a new lipstick for me. I want the prettiest shade we can find! Because tonight I’m going to be marking what’s mine.” His last few words spill with a certain venom that make a heat grow between your thighs. Asmo’s not letting you out of his sight today.

— 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋

couldn’t care less. Honestly. He is yours and you are is, he knows this and that’s enough for him. I think the only problem that could arise is if your ex tried to touch you. Then, all hell breaks loose. Other than that, he’s chill, though he really doesn’t want you talking to them nor does he want to. Beel won’t admit this, but what bothers him the most is the thought of somebody else having previously been intimate with you. But that just means he needs to make sure you never want to be with anyone else ever again. “Babe, I’m hungry,” Beel says, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you the opposite direction the two of you were walking. You insist on continuing the way you were already headed, mentioning the countless restaurants and food stands on the way. “No, I said I’m hungry.” Get ready to have your legs shaking and mind go numb for the next few hours.

— 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐄

is possessive and isn’t afraid to show it. He’s too tired for theatrics like some of his brothers, so he keeps his hatred a little more low key. Like Beel, Belphie knows that you two belong together, so he has no fear of a past lover coming to sweep you away. So instead of wasting time with a brawl, an argument, or a grand show, Belphie simply grabs your arm and tugs you away as he shoots a deathly glare at your ex. You explain to him that it was rude to abruptly rip you away from your conversation, but Belphie shoots back, “So what? Why waste your time with them? We’re going home.” You try to argue but Belphie simply ignores you and continues to drag you back to the House. Once inside, your brought to the attic and guided towards the bed where Belphie barely gives you enough time to kick your shoes off before throwing himself over you for an impromptu nap. You shout at him to at least let you get comfortable, but he instead nuzzles into you, his arms snaked around your shoulders possessively. “You’re mine. You don’t get to waste our time together on your ex. We’re staying here in bed until I feel like you understand.” You figured that was the end of it, until you felt something hard against your thigh.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚

cross posted to ao3.

#˗ˏˋ moodys headcanons ˊˎ˗#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#om swd #swd om #obmswd #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc

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eagerbby · 2 years

Text

angel | e.m

pairing| college!Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You’ve wanted him for so long. Dreamed of him, yearned for him, but could never have him. Then one chilly, October night, you make your move. Let the games begin.

an| this was supposed to be a small little fic but then I apparently became possessed and now its 9k+ words. I'm so proud of this, its definitely the best thing I've ever written, and I hope you all enjoy it.

warnings| college! eddie but literally has nothing to do with college, she falls first he falls harder trope, reader is very horny for eddie, part 1 of 3, talks of death, eddie’s scars, handjob, oral (m receiving), ball play, worshiping eddie hours babes, 18+ you know the deal

You could feel the heat coming off your cheeks as you watch him, on the other side of the room, talking to Marcy Simon’s next to a table full of miscellaneous liquor. How he cocks his head to the side at something she says, his fluffy curls shaking around his pale face. His smile wrinkles his cheeks, eyes glossy, and you hope it’s the alcohol making his eyes twinkle and not her.

When she touches his arm, long blue nails scraping over his bare skin, your hand clenches around the plastic cup you hold and the amber colored fluid spills down your wrist.

You weren’t searching for him. Not really. But when you saw Gareth, who you knew was still a senior and had no real reason to be here, you had a feeling deep in your gut he had actually come. Had stepped out of his comfort zone and came to his first college party. It made you giddy in a way that annoyed the hell out of you, that made you want to remove the fluttering butterflies in your belly and rip their wings off.

But then you found him talking to her and you thought that maybe, just maybe, your chest was gonna explode. Felt like you might puke on the yellow shag carpet beneath your feet. Jealousy rearing its ugly head, it seems.

You hate the crush you have on him. The way it festered over the years, spreading through your bones like a fatal disease. You hate it because it’s ridiculous. You don’t know anything about Eddie Munson. Okay, that’s a lie. You know a lot about Eddie Munson, being his neighbor let you indulge in his life. Observe him like a fly on the wall.

It wasn’t creepy, at least you hope it’s not, you just found it hard not to be drawn to him. He had a magnetism about him, something that drew you in like a moth to flame. You had small conversations over the years. Nothing too substantial, but it was enough to feed the crush you harbored for the boy the town saw as evil but you found to be a ray of sunshine.

Your feet are moving before your brain even registers it, pushing through crowd, trying to get as far away from the scene before you make the stupid mistake of walking over and ripping that pretty blonde ponytail straight off her head.

This was the hard part - acting like you didn’t want him so badly it made your chest hurt. It was a mastered skill of yours, especially after dating Gareth’s older brother for the past year and a half. Watching Eddie and the others practicing in Gareth’s garage, or raiding the kitchen for munchies, or piling into the living room to watch some horror movie. You’d spent some nights forcing your eyes to stay off Eddie as you sat under Grant's arm. But Grant left for his fancy east coast college, leaving you in the dust, single and finally able to do the one thing you’d dreamt about for years.

Make Eddie yours.

But Marcy beat you to it, it seems, dug her nails in the boy you’ve loved since you were nine. You couldn’t really blame her, Eddie was sweet and caring and unbelievably handsome. She was beautiful and smart, of course he liked her. But it didn’t stop the ache.

So you find the small group you came with, fake a couple laughs, and chug down drink after drink until the heat in your cheeks is from the alcohol and not from seeing Eddie smile at her like that.

Once your body has a steady buzz and you’ve fought off a handful of horny guys that couldn’t pry their eyes from your cleavage, you decide you’ve had enough. You need to breathe air that isn’t laced with the smell of sweat and beer. Your friends don’t notice you abandoning them, not that you really expect them too, which makes your escape into the front yard rather painless.

The early October breeze whips past you, carrying with it the smell of a bonfire somewhere in the distance and notes of pine. You didn’t know where you were exactly and as much as you wanted to you couldn’t just leave. You came with your friends, your car sitting broken down back at the trailer park, so you wander around the long dirt driveway humming to yourself.

You hear the heavy guitar chords before you catch sight of his van further down the road, parked haphazardly by the woods. The windows are down and the back doors hang open, a pair of dingy white reeboks kicking back and forth against the chrome bumper.

You’re walking over before you can even think about it, the heels of your black platforms crunching the fallen leaves as you approach. Your hands are clammy, knees wobbly from the alcohol and when you turn the corner of the white metal door your head spins wildly, the motion too much for your intoxicated brain. Your hand grasps for the metal, the hinge squealing loudly, and you can’t help but giggle at the noise.

Eddie’s head snaps up to the sound and when you finally unclench your eyes you find him staring with this bemused look on his pretty face.

God, what a pretty face.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your voice is silvery and you cock your head, offering him a smile. The corner of Eddie’s smile quirks up the more he watches you.

“Hello, Angel. You okay?” His owlish eyes blinking up at you. You ease yourself away from the door, only swaying a little bit before you're standing directly in front of him in your tight red dress with your hands held behind your back. Eddie can’t help but notice the glossiness of your eyes, the way your eyeliner is smudged in the corners of your waterline.

“I’m okay. Funny seeing you here, are you having fun?” You ask airly, closing your eyes briefly as a chilled breeze caresses your hot cheeks.

“Not really my scene. Gareth wanted to come. You know how it is.” You nod as he speaks, because you know all this, figured it out as soon as you had seen them both. This wasn’t Eddie’s idea of a party.

There’s a bit of silence after that, the both of your shuffling in your spots before he scoots over a bit and gestures with a ringed hand, “You can sit if you want, lookin’ a little wobbly there, Angel.”

Angel. Angel, angel, angel.

That nickname will haunt you. Be used late at night when your fingers are swirling your sensitive clit.

Angel.

“Mm, surprised you remember that, Eddie.” You say as you take a seat next to him, his scent invading your senses the moment your butt hits the tan carpet in the back of the van. Cigarettes, the musk of his leather jacket, the slightest hint of spearmint gum. Eddie was always chewing something. Gum, the chain of his guitar pick necklace, the cap from a pen. Watching the clench of his jaw had become a sort of hobby for you.

Eddie laughs softly, peering at you from behind his brown curls. “It was fitting, you were always so sweet. Mrs. Martin knew what she was talking about.”

You laugh at this, running a hand over your cheek in embarrassment that he remembers your teacher's pet streak from third grade, how you were always the ‘Class Angel’ -a twisted way of making children behave- with your gold star and little pipe cleaner halo.

“All the other girls were so jealous of you.” He chuckles to himself, picking up the pack of Marlboro reds next to him. The silver chain dangling from his jeans jingles as he digs through his front pocket for his lighter.

“Stop, they just wanted to wear the halo.” You giggle, taking the lit cigarette as he passes it to you, an unlit one hanging from his plump pink lips. “Thanks.”

Eddie gives you a nod, taking his time in tossing the pack back to its spot on the carpet, flicking the flint of his zippo until the red orange flame ignites. You swallow roughly at the sight of him, dark brown eyes reflecting the amber flame, he looks like a work of art.

“Course. So, uh, where’s Grant?” Eddie knew that Grant left for college. Knew because he spent every Monday in Gareth’s garage practicing with the rest of Corroded Coffin. But he still asked and you still answered.

“Grant left for Brown.” You stare off into the night and Eddie watches you take a drag from your cigarette, eyes caught on the dark red ring of your lipstick painted onto the filter.

“That must be hard. The long distance.” He says thoughtfully.

You scoff lightly at this. “I guess he foresaw that, because he dumped me the day he left.” You feel a little more sober now, between the cigarette and the chill in the air, your tipsiness has subsided to a gentle buzz.

Eddie’s quiet beside you, no doubt remembering that day -which just so happened to be a monday- and how he and his friends witnessed the moment from the safety of the garage. Grant hugged his parents, his little brother, and when he got to you he didn’t reach for you like you expected him to. He just patted you on the shoulder and said, “I think we should end this. Sorry.”, before he got in his car and drove off.

“It’s fine.”

“He’s an idiot.”

You both speak at the same time, eyes meeting the others somewhere in the middle of your words. “What?” You ask, not really sure if you heard him right.

“He’s an idiot.” Eddie says it so matter-of-factly, so assuringly, that it must be true. You suddenly felt queasy.

“It is what it is. He wanted to go live his life, without me in it. Guess I should just be grateful he didn’t cheat on me.”

Eddie doesn’t agree, but he can also see the way your shoulders slump, your body folding in on itself at the memory so he drops it. Instead he bumps his shoulder into yours, observing the way you fight the smile threatening to erupt on your face the more he does it. Eddie likes when you smile.

“Why’d you leave the party?” He asks after a while, another cigarette burning between his fingers. “Thought you liked this type of shit.”

His question makes you smile, dark red lips turning up in the corners. “Have you been thinking about me, Munson?”

He feels his cheeks flush but he plays it off, bumping his shoulder against yours again as he scoffs. “In your dreams, Angel.”

If only he knew what he was really doing in your dreams.

“Wasn’t feeling it anymore. What about you? Did your conversation with Marcy get stale?” You cover a wince at the way it comes out, accusatory and bitter, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“She saw us play at The Hideout last week, she wanted to know if I could teach her how to play guitar.” Eddie’s head snaps to you when he hears you snort. “What’s so funny, little pig?”

“You know she doesn’t really give a fuck about learning to play, right? She wants to fuck you, Eddie.”

“No she doesn’t.” He chastises, slapping the back of his hand against your bare skin, eyes mesmerized by the jiggle of your thigh. The sting throbs straight to your core and you try your hardest to push the thought away, slapping him back.

“God, you can’t be that fucking oblivious, Eddie. She was practically eye fucking you.”

“Jealous?” Yes.

“Ha, you wish, big boy. But seriously, did you really not catch her vibe?”

Eddie seems to be racking his brain, thinking back to the moment. “I guess she was a little touchy.” He mumbles, shrugging.

“Are all boys this stupid?” You ask with a laugh and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I’m a man, Angel.”

“Okay. Are all men this stupid?”

Eddie can’t believe you. He’s known you most of his life, not as friends of course, but he thought that you were at least acquaintances. He has a good idea of who you are. He knows that you love music of any genre, your taste eclectic. From Otis Redding to Fleetwood Mac. Iron Maiden to Pat Benatar. Knows that you used to babysit Henderson. Knows that you took two years off after you graduated to take care of your dad who was sick. Knows your mom left when you were too little to even remember her. He’s spent years hearing his uncle and your dad talking about life out on his porch, beers in hand, faces sullen. But he’s never had a true conversation with you before. Never gotten to see first hand how sarcastic and playful you are. He likes it, a little more than he expected to in fact.

“You’re an asshole.” He chuckles, a cheesy smile on his face as he stubs his smoke out in the ashtray. “Do you, uh, do you need a ride home?”

Eddie looks so hopeful at the thought of driving you home, his eyes a little wider and his smile soft, and it makes those butterflies you hate so much turn into crazed birds rickashaying off your ribcage.

“What about Gareth?” You ask, remembering who Eddie came with, but Eddie brushes it off without hesitation.

“He came to meet up with a girl. I haven’t seen him in, like, an hour. So I’m sure he’s fine. So, do you want that ride?”

“I don’t want to go home, Eddie. It’s lonely, you know, with dad gone.”

His face drops at your words, remembering the fact that your father isn’t here anymore, he wants to slap himself for being so clueless. Being around pretty girls did that to him. Made his brain a useless glob of mush, shocking if he could even form a coherent sentence, but he’d never felt quite like this around you before. You were always pretty, he recognized that fact when you both entered high school, but you were also so reserved. Not shy, but you kept to yourself, your nose usually stuffed in a book or magazine.

You had walked around school with your head held high, an air of confidence that left people intimidated, focused solely on getting good enough grades to score a scholarship. A way to get the fuck out of this one track town. But when your dad got sick at the end of senior year your dreams were washed away like the tide. He saw you change then. You spent a lot more time at home, tucked inside your trailer. He could see your bedroom window from his. Had watched you rip your room to shreds one night. He wanted to follow you into the woods that night, be a shoulder to cry on, but he barely knew you.

“Do you want to go somewhere else, m-maybe?” When you nod Eddie lets out a shuddered breath. “I’m sorry, by the way. I-I wanted to come over and… I don’t know. I figured you were tired of all the condolences.”

You smile at him, patting his hand lightly. “Thanks. It’s better you didn’t. I’ve been a wreck. I’m just now catching up with my classes.”

“College sucks.” Eddie drags his hand over his face just thinking about it and it makes you giggle. He’s right, college does suck.

“Where’d you have in mind?” You ask, mind stuck on his question from before. Of course you wanted to go somewhere else, you didn’t care where as long as you were with him.

“Oh, well, uh,” His voice trails off as he speaks, his tongue poking out of his mouth. “I don’t know. I was gonna say lover's lake but that seemed…”

“A little forward?” You offer and the two of you share a laugh as he nods.

“Just a little bit.”

“I’d be okay with just hanging out, Eddie. Just don’t wanna be alone.” You were really packing it on thick -batting your lashes at him with your bottom lip pushed out just a little bit, just enough to draw his eyes down to your painted lips- you were actually surprising yourself. It was a strange thing, playing the role of temptress, but it feels good.

It feels powerful.

Even more so when Eddie starts eagerly nodding his head, wide eyes stuck on the sight of you all pouty and cute. He truly is a fool, so easily lured in by your act.

The ride back to Forest Hills is a rather quiet one. Eddie is humming to himself, sneaking glances over at you every couple minutes and you sit there on the torn tan leather of the passenger seat pretending like you don’t notice. But you do, of course you do, it’s hard not to when his humming ceases as he eyes the bare skin of your thighs or how he fidgets with the tattered steering wheel cover as you lean only two feet away from him to dig through the black milk crate that held all his cassettes. He clears his throat rather awkwardly, shamefully, when you catch him lean over and take a sniff of you.

Peonies -his mother loved those, it was a smell he’d never forget- but there was a sweeter scent there almost like candy. It makes his mouth water and he thinks, for a brief moment, about what you pussy might taste like.

His cheeks are flushed crimson, plush lips opening to say something, but he never speaks. He knows he’s been caught, finds no reason to dig himself any deeper. He doesn’t want you to think he really is a freak.

When he turns into the trailer park you sit back, looking out the window as you pass your empty trailer, moths fluttering around the porch light you hadn’t turned off in months. Ten months to be exact. The night your father died. Just the sight of your empty home floods your gut with dread. Dread that eventually you’ll have to return to the empty double wide by yourself.

But for now you watch it fade in the rear view mirror the deeper into the park you get. Eddie and his uncle's trailer sits at the very back of the park, after the earthquake ruined their old one the god fearing people at Hawkins Baptist church bought the men a brand new two bedroom trailer. A peace offering after the nightmare the whole town put Eddie through; after accusing him of being a Satan worshiping murderer and all. It had shocked the small town when Eddie resurfaced, bloody and injured, with the presumed dead Chief Hopper. But his reputation was cleared, the real killer revealed -Jason Carver, which wasn’t a big shock to you at all- and Eddie was deemed a hero having saved spunky little Max Mayfield from a similar fate as the others.

If you thought about it, like truly thought about it, none of it really made any sense. But you were positive that Eddie was innocent.

The town's opinion had always been that Eddie Munson was evil and scary, Satan's devil spawn- but years of watching him from afar has allowed you to form your own opinion about the metal head.

There was the obvious; he likes his music heavy, his weed chronic, and never really knew when to shut up. But there was that other part of him. The part that always helped his uncle carry in groceries or how you’d catch him up on his roof watching the stars late at night or how, back when your father was alive, you’d catch Eddie sitting with your dad in the front yard reading The Hobbit to him because he knew how much your father loved to read and that because of his illness his eyesight was deteriorating.

He was good with cars and animals and kids. He laughed with his whole body and cared deeply for others. He was unlike anyone you have ever met, and despite the dirty thoughts that bounced around your brain every time you saw him, you deeply admire his ability to be true to who he is. No matter what people say about him.

“Are you okay?” His cautious voice rips you away from your thoughts and when you finally peel your eyes from the rear view mirror, you find that you’re parked in front of Eddie’s place. The van is turned off, his music no longer filling the silence, and he’s sitting in the driver's seat eyeballing you while his fingertips rapidly twist his onyx ring around his finger.

“I’m fine, Eddie. Just lost in thought.” You grace him with a small smile and his shoulders deflate a little.

“If you don’t wanna hang out just say the word and I’ll walk you home.” He can’t help the way his voice sounds so defeated. He noticed the way your mood changed when he drove into the park and he doesn't want you to feel like he expects anything. Because he doesn’t.

“I don’t want to go home yet, Eddie.” You place your hand on his wrist, index finger smoothing over the knuckle of his thumb visible under his pallid skin.

“Are you hungry? I, uh, I make a mean grilled cheese.”

“That sounds delicious.” And when his bright white smile breaks out across his doleful face you can’t help but think of how delicious he looks.

“Sorry it’s a mess.” He apologies as he brushes past you into the house. After helping you out of the van Eddie had unlocked the door and, with a goofy bow and a cheeky smile, gestured you into the house. But as you cross the threshold he remembers the mess he’d left in the living room the night before and panic rises in his chest.

You watch him snatch piles of dirty clothes from the floor and the tan couch, rushing down the hallway to deposit them into the hamper in his room.

“Sorry, my uncles out of town so I’ve been sleeping in here-” He’s apologizing again, frantic brown eyes searching for anything that could change the way you see him -not like he even knows the way you see him- when he trips on the cord from the amp Steve and Robin had gifted him when he got out of the hospital last year and falls face first into the brown carpet. There’s no time to catch himself, falling so fast that he only yelps before his face hits the floor.

Eddie scrambles back to his feet faster than you can ask if he's okay, brown eyes wide and skin ashen, he brushes himself off and heads into the kitchen. You move to follow after him quietly amused by his boyish need to play it cool. You think his nerdiness endearing especially in this moment when your eyes fall onto an open composition notebook sitting on the arm of the sofa. Across the only two visible pages are charcoal sketches of a monster with almost tentacle-like skin and bats with sharp razor teeth dripping blood. There's a broken oar wrapped in vines at the bottom of the right page and scratched at the top of the page, in sharp thick lines, is the name Vecna.

In the kitchen, Eddie is hard at work making your grilled cheese, mentally punching himself as he drops butter into the hot frying pan watching it sizzle around the cast iron as its melts and he thinks to himself that he fucking blew it. You were making him all flustered and you weren’t even trying to, which made it worse. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Doesn’t understand what you’re doing to him. These things he’s suddenly feeling as foreign to him as the Upside Down.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Your voice is cheery as you come up beside him, eyes flicking from his angsty face to the sandwich he’s flattening to death with a spatula.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweet thing.” Eddie almost gags when he realizes what he’s just said. Twenty two years he’s been on this earth and not once has he ever called someone sweet thing. He wants to look over to you, see if your expression is as grossed out as he feels right now, but he can’t gather the courage to. Sweet thing. That’s something he’s heard from those old guys, who only get away with the things they say because they're old, whistle at ladies in public.

“I bet so.” You say softly pushing up on your toes so your mouth is only an inch or so away from his ear. Your voice so suddenly invading his ear makes his whole body shiver which, in turn, fills your chest full of pride. God, he’s so easy.

Your body is away from him so quickly he can feel the complete loss of your body heat. When he turns to see where you've gone he finds you perched on the kitchen counter, bare feet kicking out in front of you.

“I saw your notebook. I wasn't snooping or anything, by the way, it’s open on the arm of the sofa. You’re really good.” You bat your eyes and smile and he feels like his whole being is screaming at him to touch you.

“I-It’s okay, I didn’t think that. Obviously I’m not the tidiest of trolls.” He says as he places your sandwich on a small black plate. When he hands it to you, your fingers brush and your whole body zings.

“Thanks.” You can only mumble at him, your brain void of thought as the rush of endorphins flood through your nervous system.

As he starts on his grilled cheese he feels your eyes roaming the expanse of his body. From the crest of mousy brown curls on his head, to the curve of his shoulder underneath his red plaid button up, the way his black t-shirt is tucked into the waist of his weathered blue jeans and you realize you’ve never seen him in these jeans before. They fit just like his well loved black ones, knee holes and all, but these are a washed navy blue fading in color at the seams. His silver chain hangs from the belt loops and he’s wearing that belt with the handcuff buckle that made you choke on your Razzles the first time you saw it.

“Do I have something on me?” He asks, looking down at his pants and spinning in a circle for a better view. You can’t help but laugh at him, his face pulling into a puppy dog pout as he stops spinning.

“No, no, there's nothing on you. Well, except those jeans.” You nudge his knee with your toe, leg extended out between the two of you.

“Oh, yeah, the jeans.” His voice is doom and gloom and he pinches at the fabric with two fingers pulling the material from his leg. “Do you hate them? I feel like I look like a farmer.”

You scrunch up your face and cock your head to the side, narrowed eyes observing said jeans in dramatic fashion. Eddie shuts the burner off and plates his sandwich.

“I'm getting pastor at a youth retreat, vibes, honestly.”

Eddie slaps the spatula down as he braces himself against the counter, his head bowed to his chest. He groans softly at first until it becomes a long cacophonous wail, rumbling against your eardrums.

“Fuuuck. I was afraid of that. I definitely can’t wear these to the satanic temple then, huh?”

You laugh. You laugh so fast and hard you snort, more earnestly than you had earlier in his van, but much like then when he hears the sound he’s snapping his head back to look at you with your hand held to your mouth. Mortified, your hot cheeks sear against the coolness of your palm, and you squint your eyes as you look at him expecting to see him staring at you with that amused smirk of his but it’s not there. It’s been replaced with a stormy haze in his brown eyes and a slack jawed gape of his mouth.

He can’t find it in himself to tease you like he had earlier when right now with you sitting on his kitchen counter -in his house, only a few feet apart- he realizes he’s a complete fucking goner.

You are the cutest, sweetest little thing, Eddie Munson has ever seen.

What gets him the most is he can’t even pinpoint when it happened. He can remember having a crush on you when you were both children and crushes were just sweet fleeting moments to be lost in time. But after that the film reel in his head flickers, flashes of his dad being handcuffed, his middle school bullies slamming his thin frame into the metal lockers, the very first time the principal looked him in his eyes and told him he failed his senior year. At some point you had become just the neighbor girl. The one he’d speak to every now and again, mostly when his uncle and your father got together to shoot the shit. Maybe things changed after his brush with death. When he thinks about the time after the Upside Down, after 001 as Dustin has started calling it, he can picture your face more. Wayne kept him on a tight leash after Eddie was released from the hospital, even going as far as taking the keys to Eddie's beloved van in fear that Eddie would run away from him again, which left Eddie stuck in Forest Hills, bored and slowly going out of his mind.

His friends had set him up a neat little spot outside, a place they could spend time with him without being crowded into his trailer, and from there he was able to watch all your comings and goings.

But not, like, in a creepy way. Eddie had to make sure of that, he couldn’t take being accused of anymore heinous crimes. It was just enough to keep him wanting to know more.

“I must say,-” You start, tearing your gaze away from his heavy one. He’s been staring at you for a good minute as you take bites of the grilled cheese he made you and you feel like you might just combust if you don’t lighten the tension permeating the air. “This may be the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had.”

Eddie chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck underneath all his thick hair. “What can I say, I’m flattered. Just call me the master of grilled cheese.”

“Aren’t you already the Dungeon Master? Would this be considered a side quest? Do dungeon masters even have side quests?” Your questions make him laugh. “So many questions, so little answers.” You finish with a huff, popping the last bite into your mouth, and Eddie can’t fucking breathe as he watches you suck the slight sheen from the butter off your fingertips.

“I am the master. T-the dungeon master. For Hellfire Club. Yeah.” Eddie couldn’t be any more lame if he tried, he thinks to himself. But then you giggle all fucking sweet and shit and you wish he could recognize how fucking adorable he is. Feel how wet it’s making you.

You always had a thing for nerds -being a bit of a nerd yourself- and Eddie was one hot fucking nerd.

“So, I have a question.” Eddie says as he leans against the counter adjacent from you.

“I have an answer.” There you go, cocking your head to the side, giving Eddie a clear view of your pretty neck.

“Would you ever want to come to one of our shows?” He asks so tentatively, like he thinks you’re gonna turn him down.

“For Corroded Coffin?” You ask.

“Yeah, we’re doing this thing for Halloween at The Hideout, with costumes and shit. We actually draw a crowd, surprisingly.”

“Drunk people?” You tease. Eddie plays with his hair, bringing the strands over his mouth to hide his smile.

“Five of them. Impressive crowd, really. Rockstar's wet dream.”

You look down at your bare feet, feeling bashful all of the sudden. “You know, I’ve actually seen you guys play a couple times.”

“Really?” Eddie smiles at you completely dumbstruck, idly tapping his rings against the counter top.

“You were wearing this cool red bandana on your head and you did this guitar solo that I thought was fucking wicked.”

“Wicked” Eddie repeats the word like you said it, lips curling into a devilish grin. “That was the first time we ever covered that song, you know. I thought it was shit.”

“I didn’t. I actually went to the record store the next day and fucking sang what I could remember to the guy that worked there. He- he looked at me like I had two heads.”

“You freak. You could have just asked me.” Eddie was starting to drift closer to you, fiddling with the black pick hanging from his neck. A sudden rush of bravery fueling every step he made until your knees brushed his thighs.

“Hm, didn’t think of that.” You swallowed dryly. He was throwing you off your game and you were starting not to mind.

“Did you ever figure it out? The song?” He was stuck watching your pursed red lips, the dark lipstick smudged ever so slightly.

“Heaven and Hell. Black Sabbath.”

“Wicked.” He mutters.

“Very. You did it justice.”

“What happened between you and Grant?” The question throws you completely off guard and your brain stutters.

“W-why?” It’s the only thing that manages to escape your dry throat, which is apparent by how croaky you sound.

“You guys were together for so long.” He says.

“Not that long.”

“Like a year, that's pretty long..”

“A year and half, actually.” You say, eyes glued to the silver chain around his neck because you refuse to look him in the eye. To see whatever expression he may be wearing.

“So what happened?” He asks again, steady in his determination to get an answer out of you.

“We just grew apart.” You mutter back and Eddie scoffs loudly.

“That’s such a fucking cop out. You loved him didn’t you?”

“No. I-I don’t think so.” Eddie pushes your chin up with his knuckle, eyes searching your avoidant gaze until he catches you. Locks you into the most intense stare you’ve ever been apart of.

“No?” He’s honestly surprised by your answer. On the surface, whenever he saw you two together you looked like what he expected love to look like. Not like he had much to go on.

“I think I did, at first. But the longer we were together the less I felt it.” You feel transparent under his watchful eyes, an open book spilling things you’d never spoken to anybody before.

“Why?”

With a sigh you push him back, hopping down off the counter and standing in front of him with your hands clasped together anxiously in front of yourself.

“It’s embarrassing, Eddie.” You say, looking up at him with such sad eyes he starts to regret prying so hard, but then you shake your head a little and release a deep breath.

“Grant wasn’t sexual, at all. At first I thought it was because of our schedules, he just didn’t have the time, but then I’d go out of my way to make the time and he still didn’t want to. I started thinking maybe he just didn’t want to… with me.”

“Angel-” Eddie’s heart and fists clench at your words, at the way you look so forlorn, as you stand in front of him believing you were undesirable in the eyes of the boy who was supposed to love you.

“I can count on both hands how many times, in a year and half, that we had sex.” You raise your hands up in show, your palms facing yourself, fingers splayed apart.

“Why didn’t you leave that fucking turd?” Eddie asks, tone rather abrasive.

“Because… because I didn’t know I could. We were supposed to go off to college together, get a little apartment, maybe a cat. I had planned what our life would look like once we left Hawkins. There was no other option in my mind.”

It sounds so pathetic when you say it out loud that you openly cringe, clenching your teeth together as you wait for what Eddie has to say next.

“You weren’t happy.” It’s an observation, not a question, and you nod.

“No, not after the first couple months. I wanted- I wanted-”

“What did you want, Angel?” He’s so much closer now, eyes drawn down to yours with a flaming intensity that ignites that fire in your stomach. White hot heat oozing like lava through your bloodstream.

I wanted you. You have to bite your lip to stop the words from leaving your mouth. Despite being true, you aren’t ready to put all your cards on the table just yet.

“I wanted him to look at me and see a girl that would get down on her knees for him. I wanted him to see me for the sexual being I was and instead he saw me as a child. Talked down to me like one when I tried something new…” You could feel the moment creeping closer and closer, the courage inside yourself growing as Eddie’s pupils blew wide, his brown irises swallowed almost whole.

“Something new?” Eddie’s mouth feels dry as the Sahara, the words tossed between his chapped lips with uncertainty.

When you step closer, bridging the space between your wanting bodies, Eddie goes rigid. You take his belt buckle into the palm of your hands, crawling delicate fingers around the warm metal until you're suddenly holding him in place -holding him to you- and Eddie’s entire world tilts. He can’t do anything but watch you bat your mischievous eyes up at him, the red flesh of your lip bitten between your sharp teeth.

“He was so boring, Eddie. When we would have sex it was always the same. There was nothing new, nothing exciting about it. I wanted to be wild, to feel naughty. Do you ever just want to be naughty, Eddie?”

Eddie feels naughty and how couldn’t he with the way his hardening cock strains against the rough denim of his jeans. With the way his eyes keep slipping back to your cleavage, the red velvet of your dress looking so tantalizing against the soft expanse of your chest. Eddie wants so badly to smooth his fingertips over the skin there but he fears if he moves, even just an inch, you’ll completely vanish and he’ll wake up from this dream. It has to be a dream. There’s no way you are standing in front of him right now with the most sexy, inviting, look in your wide eyes.

“Eddie?” Your voice is so soft but your hand so firm as you cup his heavy bulge in the palm of your other hand. “Do you want to be naughty with me, Eddie?”

And Eddie can’t fucking believe you. Can’t comprehend what you're asking as his whole body trembles in need. Eddie’s not a virgin; but he’s not an expert on the matter either. He never had a girlfriend, but he has fucked a couple girls, girls whos names he can’t remember and whose faces blur together like a kaleidoscope. It was enough to have an idea of what to do, and add the porn he’s watched and the Heavy Metal magazines hidden deep under his bed, Eddie has a good grasp of what he thinks he’ll like in bed. But all that knowledge flies from his brain when you ask him this.

“Yes.” He’s speaking without even realizing it and your face breaks into a wolfish smile, one he didn’t know you were even capable of, and then you’re backing him up until the counter behind him digs into his lower back.

“Mhm.” You’re humming as you undo his belt, trying to tame the shake in your hands as you pop the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper.

His hands linger in the air as you sink to your knees, fingers lazily untying his laces like you have all the time in the world, but Eddie’s burning from the inside out. You look so pretty sat before him, biting your lip as you free him from his shoes, tossing them off to the side where they skip against the linoleum. He can’t hold your eye contact when you peer up at him, fingers grasping the hips of his jeans, admiring him from your position.

“Eddie?” Your voice is like the sweetest honey, molten, sending flames straight to his throbbing cock and god, if you don’t feel like the most powerful woman on the planet. But you need him to watch you, need him to see how badly you want him. So you bite softly at the inside of his clothed thigh pulling a sharp gasp from him and his head snaps down heavily.

“Y-yeah?” His voice is fucked, making you smile up at him proudly. You have him right where you want him.

“Do you wanna try something new, Eddie?” You ask so nicely, as if you’re giving him an opening to back out, because you don’t want to do this unless he really wants it.

Eddie nods fervently, guiding your hair behind your ear with shaking ring clad fingers, and he wants this. Thinks he wants this more than anything ever.

“Yes. Please. ‘M yours.”

Those words go straight to your core and you throw your head back with a moan, clenching your eyes shut, before you're finding his wide round eyes in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Don’t say shit like that, Eds. Gonna get a girl's hopes up.”

Eddie tries to wrap his mind around that -because what’s that supposed to mean- but you’re already shucking his jeans down his hairy legs, hands hooked on the backs of his knees as you pull them over his sock clad feet. You toss them to the side once they’re off, your nails scraping up the meat of his calves, the hill of his knees, the sensitive skin of his thighs, before you’re leaning forward to kiss his bulge through his precum stained blue boxers.

“You’re so hard and I’ve barely even touched you yet.” You say, toying with the waistband of his boxers, pulling the elastic away from his skin just to let it snap back in place. Eddie hisses at the feeling, his head falling back against the cabinet behind him hard, but then your fingers are slipping under his shirt and Eddie chokes on his tongue -his fingers flying down to grip at your wrist roughly.

“Stop.” His voice shatters the tension in his little kitchen and your eyes glisten up at him with surprise.

“I’m sor-” You’re ripping your hands from his grip, fingers rubbing the ache away as you fall back to your heels. Eddie cuts you off before you can even finish your apology, shaking his head and kneeling down in front of you.

“No. It’s not…”

You and Eddie kneel in front of each other in silence, your eyes held together by some invisible force because as much as he wants to look away he can’t, so he’s stuck sitting in front of you on his knees with his sickly shame and pounding heart.

“Eddie?” You want to reach out, but your wrists still throb from his grip, so you settle for his name in hopes he’ll swim out of his head and back to you.

“I have scars.” He says, fast and quick, like he’s ripping off a band aid. “From… from last year. They’re.. They’re pretty gross.”

You mull over what he’s said before you are reaching out for him, smoothing your knuckle down the column of his throat as his adams apple bobs in anticipation.

“That’s okay, Eddie.”

“I don’t… I don’t want them to scare you off. I really am a freak now.” His sentence trails off and the wretched tone of his words make you ache in a different way than just ten minutes earlier.

“You’re not a freak.” Your own voice sounds strangled, forced, and you lay your hand against his stubbled cheek.

“Ha.” His laugh is painfully sardonic. “Haven’t you heard-”

You cut him off before he can say more. Can’t stand to listen to him say more.

“I never thought you gave a shit what others thought of you?” Your words are honest. Eddie walked around like he could care less what others think of him, he always has. But maybe you shouldn’t have been so blinded by his false confidence. The tremble in his lips and the sad gleam in his eyes as he tries to push you away from him, because he did see himself as a freak.

“You don’t know me, Angel.” He scoffs, finally tearing his eyes away. He stares out the kitchen window at the weaning moon high in the sky. Wishes he hadn't brought you here. He was just embarrassing himself.

When your lips hit his cheek, plush and soft and so warm, Eddie’s eyes widen.

“You’re wrong.” Another kiss. Dark red lipstick painting your kisses across his pink freckled skin. “Can I see, Eddie? Please?”

“It’s gross.” He closes his eyes when you leave another painted kiss, this one right on the corner of his mouth. “Like Frankenstein's monster.”

“Can I make my own opinion? Please, Eddie?” You ask so sweetly he can’t help but agree, gazing at you from the corner of his eye as he nods softly. “Stand up, Eddie.”

Eddie raises to his feet, back into the spot he was before, eyes downcast at his feet.

“Will you take your shirt off for me, pretty boy?” You keep your hands busy rubbing up and down his legs, trying to sooth the swarm of nerves you can see wrecking his body. He sheds his flannel before he reaches up behind his head, pausing for a second, and then slowly pulling his shirt over his head. Once it’s off, he holds it in front of his stomach, still unsure of how he feels about letting you see this. He could barely look at himself in the mirror now, he can’t imagine what you’ll think once you see.

You give him a minute before you take the shirt from his hands, placing it gently to the side, keeping your eyes down until he invites you. You don’t want him uncomfortable, want him to want you to look at him even if it's hard. He must catch on, because soon his hands find your cheek and he’s guiding you to him.

He’s so rigid, standing there in only his boxers and socks, he can’t remember a time he’s felt so clinically naked. But then he makes the mistake of looking down at you and finds you staring in awe at his bare, scared, body like he was a piece of art.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t mangled webs of pearl colored skin, taunt at the sides and puckering in the middle. The scars are etched across his left hip, crawling up the right side of his rib cage in an arch of angry red scar tissue, the scars peppered along the expanse of his collarbones lighter in color, the closest to his skin tone like they healed faster than the others. He must have been in so much pain, it makes your heart hurt just thinking about it, but it does nothing to deter you from him. Scars, no scars, he’s still the most beautiful man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“Hey,” His voice is soft, edging on cautious, as you trail a finger from his left hip across his tummy to the angry red web on his ribs.

“Do they hurt?” You ask him, peering up at him from your knees, they were starting to ache but you didn’t care.

“A little. If I move the wrong way.” He’s whispering back to you, transfixed on the way you seem to be admiring him. “What do you- what do you think?”

Poor baby, he sounds so shy, which only pushes you to kiss him in the places he hates most. Leaving red lip prints on the scars you can reach with your lips, ghosting your fingers across the ones you can’t.

“Mhm, I think I want to suck your cock. Would you like that, Eddie?” You don’t wait for a response, the twitch of his dick is enough for you to pull his boxers down his legs leaving them pooled around his ankles, licking your lips at the sight of his cock springing forth.

Eddie sounds like a whore, wantonly moaning when you kiss the tip of his dick, and his cheeks flush deeply at his own noise. He’s starting to think all those things he thought he knew about you are wrong. He always assumed you were a sweet bookworm, untainted by the world around you. But he’s realizing quickly, especially as you lick a fat stripe from his base, that you’re a devious little thing. Dirty, evil, wicked, girl.

He was so wrong about you.

You’re taking your sweet time licking him, almost like his dick is a lollipop, starting at the base of his shaft and working your heavy tongue along the curve of him. When you reach his tip you suck it into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his salty precum, nails digging into his thighs.

Eddie’s losing his fucking shit above you, head smashed against the cabinet, but he’s staring down at you with half lidded eyes. His hands hold tight to the counter, knuckles white, his mouth parted open. He wants to touch you so badly, hold your cheeks while you bob on his cock, but his tight grip on the counter is the only thing keeping him up at this point.

It’s not his first blow job, but it’s without a doubt the best, so far beyond what he thought a blow job could be. You’re mouth is so hot, so wet, so fucking good, he feels delirious. He didn’t know a blow job could be this fucking good. Could have him so close to cumming when you’ve barely even done anything. Just bobbing up and down. Up and down. It hits him that you’re teasing him when you take him to the back of your throat, but only for a second, and then you're back to swirling your tongue around his leaking tip.

“Don’t be mean.” He pants when he catches on, and your laugh is muffled by his cock deep in the back of your throat. The vibration has him keening, hands flying down to grasp a hand full of your hair in his shaking hand. “Oh-oh my fucking god.”

He wants to cry when you suddenly pull off him, your lipstick smeared around your mouth, mascara tracking down your cheeks in black streaks. You look so fucking pretty. Drop dead gorgeous.

And then you lean past his cock, sucking one of his balls straight into your watery mouth, moaning at the heavy taste of him. He can’t breathe. Holy shit, he can’t fucking breathe. Thinks he might die with his fucking balls in your fucking mouth. But then your hand grabs him at the base and gives a strong steady stroke, and it’s like whatever dam had formed suddenly collapses and he moans so loudly it makes you jump, his other ball slipping into your warm mouth.

“Jesus H. Christ. Who are you? F-fucking naughty girl. You love this shit don’t you?” He’s gasping, voice so ragged it hurts his throat, and you only giggle at him while you suckle at his sack. “Evil fucking woman. Ruining me for anyone else.”

You bat your eyes, pulling away from him, a string of spit following after your swollen lips. Your hand still steadily jerks his cock, firm at the base, twisting across his tip. You have this look in your eyes, this strange yearning that he finally understands, can’t believe he ever missed before.

“Thats- oh fuck that feels so good- that’s what you fucking want isnt it? Wanna r-ruin me for the others?”

You say nothing, only bat your eyes at him, leaning forward to kitten lick his cock head.

“Y-you want me to be yours?” His getting close, the realization dawning on him. Earlier you brought up Marcy, how you saw him with her, he asked you if you were jealous. You denied it, but you had cast your eyes down to his lips before telling him he wished. He’d seen it then, that flicker of your eyes as you looked to his lips, but he’d brushed it off.

You take a break from sucking his soul from his body to roll your eyes, switching from your skillful mouth to your just as skillful hand.

“You said it.” It’s all you say before cupping his sack, rolling him around your hand softly, your grip on his cock slow and agonizing. He’s so close, can feel that heat burning down his spine, his chest heaving. He’s so close but he feels like he needs to hear you say it. Will go crazy if you don’t.

“Please, p-please just- fuck, Angel. Please just answer me.” He’s whining, thighs shaking, breath stuttering. You want to take pity on him, want to tell him yes, yes you want him to be yours. Only yours.

But that would end this game and you are too deep to give up now. So you sit up off your heels, line his cock up with your mouth, and kiss his tip.

“I want you to cum, Eddie.”

Then you’re engulfing him into your mouth, deep in your throat, and it burns and tears sting your eyes but you keep going. Fight through your gags, swallowing around him, pump his base with one hand while your other fondles his balls.

Eddie can’t take it, the pleasure and your noises too much, he grips both sides of your head and holds you there as he shoots rope after white hot rope of his cum into your throat. He’s whining and begging, pleading with you not to stop -never stop- as he cums so hard his vision blurs into white stars and swirls of light.

Desperately needing air, you swallow what he's given you and pull off until only his tip sits in your mouth. You suck and kiss and lick his delicious tip until he pulls you away from him with shaky hands and a whiny -"s'too much baby, please, s'too much."

You wipe the back of your hand against your mouth, ignoring the faint lines of red that trail after it. Eddie can't stop looking down at you, can't believe you just made him cum that hard.

"Taste so good, Ed's." It's all you say as you hike his boxers back up his legs, standing on shaking knees from kneeling for so long. You can feel your wetness seeping down your inner thighs, clit throbbing with need. You choose to ignore her, instead you reach your hand out and wipe some drool from the corner of Eddie's mouth.

"I'm gonna stop calling you Angel." He says on a pant, trying his hardest to calm down from his high, but the waves of pleasure are still ebbing at him.

"Are you now?" You ask with a little cock of your head and a sinister little smirk.

"Yeah, you were sent from hell. I'm almost positive. F-fucking succubus." He wants to kiss you, can feel his body being pulled to yours like a magnet. But you're already walking backwards, reaching down to grab your heels from the floor.

"I like when you call me angel, Eddie." You're leaving, and his chest clenches because he doesn't want you to go. He misses your warmth already.

But this was part of the game. Leave him wanting more.

"I'll see you around, Ed's." It's the last thing you say before you're gone, the trailer door slamming shut behind you.

Eddie can't help but allow his body to fall forward, hands clenching the counter top, he breathes in. Breathes out. Tries to find some semblance of his sanity. But then his eyes fall onto something black and lacey, hung on the doorknob.

He walks over slowly, face blanching when he realizes the black lace are your panties. You left him your fucking panties.

Eddie clenches the fabric in his hand, they're wet in the crotch and they smell like you.

Dirty, evil, wicked girl.

Eddie holds the fabric to his face and groans. "Angel my ass."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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